But while in this world we scarcely make a beginning, yet everything depends on the character of that beginning. As is the beginning, so will be the conclusion. In the direction taken in time will we progress in eternity. We may repent of our mistakes here and correct them, but there is no repentance beyond the grave. There are no mistakes corrected in eternity. Hence the necessity of a proper use of time.
I have selected the word culture to express the idea which I wish to convey, and yet I must confess that it does not express it as happily as I should desire. Where the Greeks had their paideia, the Romans their humanitas, we have the more elastic and accommodating word culture. I use it in this address in the sense of drawing out and developing the nobler powers that are potentially in fallen humanity. It is not so much the development of all the faculties in man to their highest extent, as the directing and training of the better ones to their true end. We are dealing here with beginnings, not endings. The perfection of man in all his capacities is not a thing of time. In time, the character must receive its mold; in eternity, its highest polish.
By self-culture I mean, of course, the power that one has, and ought to use, of cultivating himself. "To cultivate anything," says Dr. Channing, "be it a plant, an animal, a mind, is to make grow. Growth, expansion is the end. Nothing admits culture but that which has a principle of life, capable of being expanded. He, therefore, who does what he can to unfold all his powers and capacities, especially his nobler ones, so as to become a well proportioned, vigorous, happy being, practices self-culture." This may apply to those who have not the advantages of schools and colleges, and to the after education of those who have.
We hear much in this age about a "finished education at college." There is, alas! too much truth in the expression. Generally, the more superficial our collegiate education, the more completely is it "finished" on the day of graduation. How few young ladies and gentlemen meet the expectations raised by their educational advantages! How few years sadden loving hearts with disappointed hopes! How many stars shine brilliantly within college walls, then go out to be seen no more! And all this the result of a "finished education!"
Most of these failures are the result of wrong views of education. Our school days are but a beginning of our earthly education, as this is but the beginning of that which is to come. It is not what we learn in school, but what we learn after leaving it, that determines our success or failure. These advantages are but for the purpose of laying the foundation; the building is the work of after years. And he who does not build, does not even preserve the foundation. Alas! how many well-laid foundations have moldered into ruin! No sooner does the plant cease to grow than it begins to decay. Therefore, he who would live must grow, and he who would grow must be active. There is no success to him who stands with his hands in his pockets. This is an age of intense activity. Competition in every calling is sharp; the professions are crowded, and there is room only at the top. Therefore, the path to success is not strewed with flowers and tinted with the rainbow's hue. As Carlyle truly says: "The race of life has become intense; the runners are treading upon each other's heels, woe be to him who stops to tie his shoestrings."
Many a young man fails because he thinks himself a genius, and therefore does not need to study. The sooner you get rid of the idea that you are a genius the better. The old idea of a genius that never has to study is the pet of laziness and the ruin of manliness. Sidney Smith truly says: "There is but one method of attaining to excellence, and that is hard labor; and a man who will not pay that price for distinction had better at once dedicate himself to the pursuit of the fox, or sport with the tangles of Neæra's hair, or talk of bullocks and glory in the goad! There are many modes of being frivolous, and not a few of being useful; there is but one mode of being intellectually great."
It is common for those who have not the wealth to afford them a luxurious college course to bemoan their misfortune and content themselves with being nothing. If culture were attained by complaining of misfortune, many would soon reach perfection. To some, extreme poverty is doubtless a misfortune, but to many others it is a blessing. The world's grandest heroes and benefactors have struggled with poverty; and, but for this, they would have died unwept and unhonored. The great men and women of earth were not dandled in the lap of luxury. Lord Thurlow, Chancellor of England, when asked by a wealthy friend what course his son should pursue to secure success at the bar, is said to have thus replied: "Let your son spend his fortune, marry and spend his wife's, and then go to the bar; there will be little fear of his failure." The Chancellor well knew that, with his wealth, the young man would not do the work that success demanded. How many men, and women, too, were never anything till they lost their fortune! Then the world felt their power. What a fortune, then, to have no fortune to lose! True, poverty brings difficulties, but difficulties develop men. They show the material out of which one is composed. While they dishearten the irresolute, they stimulate the brave. The wind that extinguishes the taper only intensifies the heat of the stronger flame. Gnats are blown with the wind, but kites rise only against it.
All culture is, in a large degree, self-culture. Our teachers are only helps. They can teach us, but they can not learn us. We must do our own learning. Wealth can not buy it, nor luxurious surroundings impart it; it must be made ours by personal application.
I am not contending that all may or should be scholars in the proper sense of that word. There is a difference between culture and scholarship. A man of culture may or may not be a scholar. I plead more especially for the training of the mind, for the development of the nobler faculties of our nature, that we may fulfill the true end of our being.
I do not mean that all should be great, in the popular acceptation of that term. This is neither desirable nor possible. If all were great, then none were great. But God has designed us all for positions of usefulness and happiness; some in one direction, some in another. These positions we should seek and fill to the full extent of our ability. And it is with reference to this ability that I am making the plea for self-culture. It is not simply preparation for a position, but development in it, for which I plead. There is much said in this age about education for a position, and this education is all right; the more thorough the better. But the trouble is, too many seem to think that this is all. Here is the ruinous mistake. There is a world of difference between being educated for a calling, and being educated in it. That may be obtained in schools and colleges; this is a work of subsequent life. That is important; this is indispensable. Without that, this may be a grand success; without this, that is next to worthless. Many men are highly educated in their calling who were never educated for it. This is self-culture in its true sense.