Nature, as if inspired by a divine instinct, is ever engaged in refining her materials. The laws by which she works are as applicable to mind as to matter. In man we see both mind and matter combined,—two natures, the intellectual and the physical. But in order to learn what we are and what we should be, we must first understand the relations in which we are placed. In attempting to do this, we must study man as well as Nature, and advance step by step, if we would achieve the highest attainments of which we are capable.

He only is a man in the true sense whose mental, moral, and physical capacities have been fully developed. To be "twenty-one years of age and six feet high" does not of itself constitute a man. He must attain to something more than this,—he must have the head and the heart and the soul of a man. He must appreciate the true character of his position, and have the moral courage to discharge his duties,—in short, he must live for others as well as for himself, act from generous impulses, and in all he does, yield to "the divinity that stirs within him," if he would comprehend the import of his godlike destiny.

The highway to knowledge, though rugged, is equally free and open to all. Whoever will, may enter the temple of Nature, interrogate her face to face, unlock her treasures, appropriate her wealth, and subject her subtle agencies to human service. This the nineteenth century has already done to a considerable extent. Thus far it has been a bold century, and has taken many bold steps. It has "knocked holes through the blind walls" of the last ten centuries, and exposed to daylight the "moles and the bats" of antiquity; and still it demands more light. Such is the spirit of the age,—a demand for naked truth in all its beautiful proportions. Never, until this nineteenth century, have the masses really discovered their mission,—the great fact that they were created to think as well as work, and to govern as well as be governed. And yet the world may be regarded as still in its infancy; nor has the human mind, as compared with its possibilities, emerged from its cradle, or even thrown off its swaddling garments.

Though capable of sublime achievements, man at birth is not only one of the most helpless, but one of the most ignorant, specimens of animal existence. It is said by physiologists that an infant can neither smile nor shed a tear until forty days old. In his infancy the world to him is but a panorama of strange objects. In due time, however, he discovers that he has everything to learn, and needs to learn everything before he can comprehend himself or wield the power which Heaven has assigned him.

The degree of culture required to render man what he should be—godlike in his character—admits of no compromise with ignorance, superstition, or sectarianism, but on the contrary, involves the necessity of establishing and sustaining such an educational system as will be adapted to the needs of the masses, and work in accordance with the laws of matter and of mind.

It is to the masses that our country must look for her best material, and for her future intellectual giants. In every age of the world more or less great men have been produced. At a time when most needed, our own country produced a Washington, a Jefferson, and a Franklin, who distinguished themselves and the age in which they lived,—the age which gave birth to human rights. At a later period appeared a Jackson, a Clay, and a Webster,—the defenders of the Constitution and of the Union,—who have left behind them a brilliant record; but notwithstanding their conservative efforts, there came a spirit of reform, sowing dragon-teeth, which soon sprang to life and filled the land with armed heroes, who bravely met in deadly conflict and decided forever the great question of human freedom; and consequently we now have, instead of a few, a great many men of world-wide renown, who have made for themselves and for their country a proud history.

In order to preserve our liberties we must have men of large hearts and wise heads,—men who can wear the armor of giants because they are giants. In short, we must recognize the great fact that every child in the land has a God-given right to an education,—a right which no parent should be allowed to sell for "a mess of pottage." Our national watchword should be "Education;" and the system should be so constructed as to reach all classes of youth by methods not only efficient but attractive.

It will be said by some, perhaps, that it is quite impossible to educate the masses in the higher branches of learning, unless they be withdrawn from the indispensable labors of the field and the workshop, and thus be compelled to neglect the industrial pursuits on which they must depend for their physical comforts,—bread, raiment, and shelter. However plausible this objection may seem, it certainly does not afford a sufficient reason why the facilities of acquiring a good education should not be equally extended to all classes.

Manual labor and a high degree of intelligence are by no means incompatible, but on the contrary, must be associated, in order to achieve great or brilliant results. It is true, however, that the physical wants of man must first be supplied before you can proceed successfully with the cultivation of his intellectual powers. The fact is every day exemplified that bread is much easier gained by an intelligent than by an ignorant laborer. Whatever faith may do, it is certain that science and labor must be combined if we would either tunnel or "remove mountains;" and though native talent may have been distributed with more liberality to some than to others, all are under the highest obligations to improve such as they have, whether it be one talent or twenty talents.

The farmer, the mechanic, the merchant, and even the busy housewife, have more or less leisure hours,—long winter evenings, holidays, and sabbath days, amounting to nearly half a lifetime,—which might with great profit be employed in the acquisition of useful knowledge through the medium of choice books and interchange of thought. Indeed, almost every one who has received a common-school education may so improve the fragments of time which fall in his way as to acquire in the course of an ordinary lifetime a pretty thorough acquaintance with the sciences, and with general literature.