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Such a man was Mark Hopkins, Noah Porter, James McCosh. Such the leading men in every seminary should be. The plan of education must be of principles, not of facts. The university research-men gather facts, and scientific men everywhere collect, analyze, and classify them.
Who can say but some such divine yet free constraint may be exercised in the life to come? It will be seen that I do not think of freedom as the prime faculty of the soul. I rather think, with McCosh, that conscience is supreme. And why? For two reasons: First, conscience deals only with questions in the moral realm. This gives it a peculiar dignity and sacredness.
Another thing that morning reminded her of that mysterious "vibgyor" of the old times. Master McCosh told them they could clasp Alexander's generals; then Pauline Hayes gave their names Cassander, Lysimachus, Antiognus, Seleucus and Ptolemy. Marjorie had that to tell Miss Prudence.
For example, Dr. McCosh, a thorough-going opponent, regards Mill's influence as the most active and effective philosophical force now alive in Great Britain, the strongest current of philosophic thought even at Oxford; and M. Taine, who some years ago discovered at Oxford that the British nation was not wanting in "general ideas" or principles in its modes of thought above the requirements of the accountant and assayer, found these principles in a really living English philosophy, which has brought forth one of M. Taine's most elaborate critical studies in his work on "Intelligence."
He unites the sharpness of the scimetar and the strength of the battle-axe. Westminster Review: From the days of Plato there has been no life of more simple and imposing grandeur than that of Jonathan Edwards. President McCosh, of Princeton: The greatest thinker that America has produced. Lyman Beecher: A prince among preachers. In our day there is no man who comes within a thousand miles of him.
Offer it now unto thy governor; will he be pleased with thee, or accept thy person? saith the Lord of hosts." Closing the book she returned it to Marjorie's lap. "You mean that God will not accept my excuse for not feeling like reading to-night?" "You said that Mr. McCosh would not accept such an excuse for your astronomy." "Miss Prudence!" Marjorie was wide awake now.
"Then why should you give God's book just half a minute, or not so long, and Wayland and Legendre and every body else just as much time as the length of your lesson claims? Could you make anything of your astronomy now?" "No, I knew I could not, and that is why I am leaving it till morning." "Suppose you do not study it at all and tell Mr. McCosh that you were too tired to-night."
Let there be a Waterloo in belles-lettres and rhetoric and mathematics and philosophy. Let us see whether the students of Doctors McCosh, or Porter, or Campbell, or Smith are most worthy to wear the belt. About twelve o'clock at noon let the literary flotilla start prow and prow, oar-lock and oar-lock. Let Helicon empty its waters to swell the river of knowledge on which they row.
That morning Marjorie, who did not know what she was in the class, went from the foot through the class, to the head three times; it would have been four times but she gave the preference to Pauline Hayes who had written the correct date half a second after her own was on the slate. "Miss Hayes writes more slowly than I," she told Master McCosh. "She was as sure of it as I was."
Mary found Biddy McCosh, the servant-girl, wringing her hands and running about not knowing what to do, while her youngest sister was asleep, and the next was crying, seeing that something was the matter but not knowing what it was, Mary's first thought was to place her little sisters in safety, the next was how to put out the fire and save the furniture.
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