WHAT IS A UNIVERSITY?

If I were asked to describe as briefly and

popularly as I could, what a University was, I

should draw my answer from its ancient

designation of a _Studium Generale_, or "School of

Universal Learning." This description implies 5

the assemblage of strangers from all parts in one

spot--_from all parts_; else, how will you find

professors and students for every department of

knowledge? and _in one spot_; else, how can there

be any school at all? Accordingly, in its simple 10

and rudimental form, it is a school of knowledge

of every kind, consisting of teachers and learners

from every quarter. Many things are requisite

to complete and satisfy the idea embodied in this

description; but such as this a University seems 15

to be in its essence, a place for the

communication and circulation of thought, by means of

personal intercourse, through a wide extent of

country.

Mutual education, in a large sense of the word, 20

is one of the great and incessant occupations of

human society, carried on partly with set

purpose, and partly not. One generation forms

another; and the existing generation is ever

acting and reacting upon itself in the persons of its

individual members. Now, in this process, books,

I need scarcely say, that is, the _litera scripta_,

are one special instrument. It is true; and 5

emphatically so in this age. Considering the

prodigious powers of the press, and how they are

developed at this time in the never intermitting

issue of periodicals, tracts, pamphlets, works in

series, and light literature, we must allow there 10

never was a time which promised fairer for

dispensing with every other means of information

and instruction. What can we want more, you

will say, for the intellectual education of the

whole man, and for every man, than so exuberant 15

and diversified and persistent a promulgation

of all kinds of knowledge? Why, you will ask,

need we go up to knowledge, when knowledge

comes down to us? The Sibyl wrote her

prophecies upon the leaves of the forest, and wasted 20

them; but here such careless profusion might be

prudently indulged, for it can be afforded

without loss, in consequence of the almost fabulous

fecundity of the instrument which these latter

ages have invented. We have sermons in stones, 25

and books in the running brooks; works larger

and more comprehensive than those which have

gained for ancients an immortality, issue forth

every morning, and are projected onwards to

the ends of the earth at the rate of hundreds of 30

miles a day. Our seats are strewed, our pavements

are powdered, with swarms of little tracts;

and the very bricks of our city walls preach

wisdom, by informing us by their placards where we

can at once cheaply purchase it.

I allow all this, and much more; such 5

certainly is our popular education, and its effects are

remarkable. Nevertheless, after all, even in this

age, whenever men are really serious about

getting what, in the language of trade, is called "a

good article," when they aim at something 10

precise, something refined, something really

luminous, something really large, something choice,

they go to another market; they avail themselves,

in some shape or other, of the rival method, the

ancient method, of oral instruction, of present 15

communication between man and man, of teachers

instead of learning, of the personal influence of a

master, and the humble initiation of a disciple,

and, in consequence, of great centers of

pilgrimage and throng, which such a method of 20

education necessarily involves.

If the actions of men may be taken as any test

of their convictions, then we have reason for

saying this, viz.: that the province and the

inestimable benefit of the _litera scripta_ is that of 25

being a record of truth, and an authority of appeal,

and an instrument of teaching in the hands of a

teacher; but that, if we wish to become exact and

fully furnished in any branch of knowledge which

is diversified and complicated, we must consult 30

the living man and listen to his living voice....

No book can convey the special spirit and

delicate peculiarities of its subject with that

rapidity and certainty which attend on the sympathy

of mind with mind, through the eyes, the look,

the accent, and the manner, in casual expressions 5

thrown off at the moment, and the unstudied

turns of familiar conversation. But I am already

dwelling too long on what is but an incidental

portion of my main subject. Whatever be the

cause, the fact is undeniable. The general 10

principles of any study you may learn by books at

home; but the detail, the color, the tone, the

air, the life which makes it live in us, you must

catch all these from those in whom it lives

already. You must imitate the student in French 15

or German, who is not content with his

grammar, but goes to Paris or Dresden: you must

take example from the young artist, who aspires

to visit the great Masters in Florence and in

Rome. Till we have discovered some 20

intellectual daguerreotype, which takes off the course of

thought, and the form, lineaments, and features

of truth, as completely and minutely, as the

optical instrument reproduces the sensible

object, we must come to the teachers of wisdom 25

to learn wisdom, we must repair to the fountain,

and drink there. Portions of it may go from

thence to the ends of the earth by means of

books; but the fullness is in one place alone. It

is in such assemblages and congregations of 30

intellect that books themselves, the masterpieces

of human genius, are written, or at least

originated.

The principle on which I have been insisting

is so obvious, and instances in point are so ready,

that I should think it tiresome to proceed with 5

the subject, except that one or two illustrations

may serve to explain my own language about it,

which may not have done justice to the doctrine

which it has been intended to enforce.

For instance, the polished manners and 10

high-bred bearing which are so difficult of attainment,

and so strictly personal when attained,--which

are so much admired in society, from society

are acquired. All that goes to constitute a

gentleman,--the carriage, gait, address, gestures, 15

voice; the ease, the self-possession, the courtesy,

the power of conversing, the talent of not

offending; the lofty principle, the delicacy of thought,

the happiness of expression, the taste and

propriety, the generosity and forbearance, the 20

candor and consideration, the openness of

hand--these qualities, some of them come by nature,

some of them may be found in any rank, some of

them are a direct precept of Christianity; but

the full assemblage of them, bound up in the 25

unity of an individual character, do we expect

they can be learned from books? are they not

necessarily acquired, where they are to be found,

in high society? The very nature of the case

leads us to say so; you cannot fence without an 30

antagonist, nor challenge all comers in disputation

before you have supported a thesis; and in

like manner, it stands to reason, you cannot learn

to converse till you have the world to converse

with; you cannot unlearn your natural

bashfulness, or awkwardness, or stiffness, or other 5

besetting deformity, till you serve your time in

some school of manners. Well, and is it not so

in matter of fact? The metropolis, the court,

the great houses of the land, are the centers to

which at stated times the country comes up, as to 10

shrines of refinement and good taste; and then

in due time the country goes back again home,

enriched with a portion of the social

accomplishments, which those very visits serve to call out

and heighten in the gracious dispensers of them. 15

We are unable to conceive how the

"gentleman-like" can otherwise be maintained; and

maintained in this way it is....

Religious teaching itself affords us an

illustration of our subject to a certain point. It 20

does not indeed seat itself merely in centers of

the world; this is impossible from the nature of

the case. It is intended for the many not the

few; its subject-matter is truth necessary for us,

not truth recondite and rare; but it concurs in 25

the principle of a University so far as this, that

its great instrument, or rather organ, has ever

been that which nature prescribes in all education,

the personal presence of a teacher, or, in

theological language, Oral Tradition. It is the living 30

voice, the breathing form, the expressive countenance,

which preaches, which catechises. Truth,

a subtle, invisible, manifold spirit, is poured into

the mind of the scholar by his eyes and ears,

through his affections, imagination, and reason;

it is poured into his mind and is sealed up there 5

in perpetuity, by propounding and repeating it,

by questioning and requestioning, by correcting

and explaining, by progressing and then recurring

to first principles, by all those ways which are

implied in the word "catechising." In the first 10

ages, it was a work of long time; months,

sometimes years, were devoted to the arduous task

of disabusing the mind of the incipient Christian

of its pagan errors, and of molding it upon the

Christian faith. The Scriptures indeed were at 15

hand for the study of those who could avail

themselves of them; but St. Irenæus does not

hesitate to speak of whole races, who had been

converted to Christianity, without being able to

read them. To be unable to read or write was in 20

those times no evidence of want of learning: the

hermits of the deserts were, in this sense of the

word, illiterate; yet the great St. Anthony,

though he knew not letters, was a match in

disputation for the learned philosophers who came 25

to try him. Didymus again, the great

Alexandrian theologian, was blind. The ancient

discipline, called the _Disciplina Arcani_, involved the

same principle. The more sacred doctrines of

Revelation were not committed to books but 30

passed on by successive tradition. The teaching

on the Blessed Trinity, and the Eucharist

appears to have been so handed down for some

hundred years; and when at length reduced to

writing, it has filled many folios, yet has not been

exhausted. 5

But I have said more than enough in

illustration; end as I began--a University is a place

of concourse, whither students come from every

quarter for every kind of knowledge. You

cannot have the best of every kind everywhere; you 10

must go to some great city or emporium for it.

There you have all the choicest productions

of nature and art all together, which you find

each in its own separate place elsewhere. All

the riches of the land, and of the earth, are 15

carried up thither; there are the best markets, and

there the best workmen. It is the center of

trade, the supreme court of fashion, the umpire

of rival talents, and the standard of things rare

and precious. It is the place for seeing galleries 20

of first-rate pictures, and for hearing wonderful

voices and performers of transcendent skill. It

is the place for great preachers, great orators,

great nobles, great statesmen. In the nature of

things, greatness and unity go together; 25

excellence implies a center. And such, for the third

or fourth time, is a University; I hope I do not

weary out the reader by repeating it. It is the

place to which a thousand schools make

contributions; in which the intellect may safely 30

range and speculate, sure to find its equal in

some antagonist activity, and its judge in the

tribunal of truth. It is a place where inquiry

is pushed forward, and discoveries verified and

perfected, and rashness rendered innocuous, and

error exposed, by the collision of mind with mind, 5

and knowledge with knowledge. It is the place

where the professor becomes eloquent, and is a

missionary and a preacher, displaying his science

in its most complete and most winning form,

pouring it forth with the zeal of enthusiasm, and 10

lighting up his own love of it in the breasts of

his hearers. It is the place where the catechist

makes good his ground as he goes, treading in the

truth day by day into the ready memory, and

wedging and tightening it into the expanding 15

reason. It is a place which wins the admiration

of the young by its celebrity, kindles the

affections of the middle-aged by its beauty, and rivets

the fidelity of the old by its associations. It is a

seat of wisdom, a light of the world, a minister of 20

the faith, an Alma Mater of the rising generation.

It is this and a great deal more, and demands a

somewhat better head and hand than mine to

describe it well.

Selections from the Prose Writings of John Henry Cardinal Newman For the Use of Schools · 第 51 / 82 题