THE UNIVERSITY COURSE.

Evening Star, Volume IX, Issue 2622, 13 July 1871, Page 3

THE UNIVERSITY COURSE.

PROFESSOR MACGREGOR’S OPENING LECTURE. Last evening the University Hall was literally crammed with ladies and gentlemen who assembled to hear Professor Macgregor’s first lecture on Mental and Moral Science. The lecturer was introduced by the Rev D. M. Stuart. After some observations on the nature of the human mind and its emotions, he went pn to say that the subjects'included in mental science were most difficult, and it was not to be wondered at that its past history was such as he had described, and that the noblest of the human race, having no subjects for thought, but having only a maze of words to reason upon, which they mistook for things, should have instituted systems not calculated to unravel the mysteries of the conscience nor tend to truthful inferences. Thus it had been in past ages. There was nothing to saf sfy the longing of the mind; iind, ju the absence of scientific facta they bnilt on sand. There were plentiful crops of systems of philosophy, but all at last found themselves in the beaten track of those who had gone before, none of whom could find their way to truth. They resembled mariners without a chart or compass Was there then no hope of ultimate hap )ine: s ? Was there no spot of earth on which to find shelter ‘I No promised land in which to rest ? Must man perish ? If so, to what purpose was he endowed with such faculties as ho possessed ? Why were hfa faculties so highly disciplined by his confinnajice here, if the inevitable result of

their exercise was to make him dis ßa tiffied with his lot? Instead of being benefited his Creator must have formed him solely to make him miserable. But not so. Man did not perish when the body rotted. This want of to our circumstances was designed to make us feel that this is not our rest—that here we have no continuing city —no fixed place of abode. There was a means of bridging the abyss, and this it was not the province of science to'do. It became then a question how far science could legitimately go ind at what [joint she must give place to religion. In vouths’ golden days of life its mental capacity was for enjoyment. Men were blindly confident in their consciousness, and judged of others by themselves. Theories were built oa slender grounds ; but when the foundations of faith were weakened, then came the change. Reason asserted its prerogative, and doubt asked that proof might ■o given. Man made up for believing too uucli by believing ’oo Itt Ic. That was the critical time of a man’s existence. No vender that many made shipwreck of their bnth and of a uood conscience. As in the unreflecting times of youth, so it was in the young ages of the world. Reli .ion was so surrounded by superstitition, that she could not have floated had she not thrown the umber overboard. It was still laden with ui ch that would ultimately be found to be the traditions of mm. All that was inevitable. Kcligious men had a dread of what science unravelled. In fact religious and scientific men lived in dread of each other, and fought because they were loyal, and because truth was supposed to be imperilled by each other. They had resolved facts into the natural and supernatural; but as knowledge aud science advanced, it was found that that which formerly appeared mysterious and was classed with the supernatural, was really simple; and many facts which had appeared the most simple had been discovered to be most mysterious. As knowledge accumulated facts hitherto counted natural were classed with the supernatural, while facts that science took away from religion ■■ ete shewn to bo capable of easy explanation. Far f:om being a hindrance to religion, science was found to be a safe guide. utterly she had brought classes of facts under general laws. But there was a danger of the leading men of science abandoning faith. Each succeeding effort plunged them ..me deeply in unbelief. Hitherto the ■hronic antagonism had been fostered, but .jw to the wisest men in both camps, lie millennium was becoming clearer—the ime when men would beat their swords into ploughshares, and form their spears into ouiiing hooks, th ough having clear views of the boundaries between religion and science. He asked their patience, while in .he prosecution of his plan he went more deeply into the relations between science and religion. It was briefly that between the latter and the science of metaphysics. There were men who said unless metaphysics mended our manners, they were useless, for whj>t had the science done to unraval the secrets of mind ? He was free to admit it had done nothing excepting imparting mental discipline. There were those who said “We cannot abide men with Scotch philosophy and Scotch metaphysics.” Let it suffice there was no power of choice in the matter, livery son of man who thought at all, must be a metaphysician. Ho held that to be a settled point. The vitality of the science was indestructible. It was founded upon impulses which could n< t be kept under, to suppose that metaphysics could ever cease bo be studied, was to believe that men had ceased to think. Let people decry -be science as they would, they knew it oo be the strongest manifestation of mental power that could be adduced, as it furnished useful practical suggestions for cultivating to the utmost the mind’s powers; and if mental science were true, it must furnish the means of curing mental diseases. Clearly some change was necessary in, dealing with the subject before the mind could successfully investigate it. Metaphysics was now included in the circle of the sciences, ,aud it had come about in this wise : it had -nine to be thought that the: e was one egui,..al force from which all forties uro. needed, icntal force must bp pu? pi the correlated . lorces. Hqw far-was that true ? What was mind ? It was a force, and force was hides- ; structible and persistent. It was not force of muse e that enabled him to grasp the Cable— that was plain ; for as soon as the force of will was withdrawn, the muscles ceased their grasp. Force existed, so men could become conscious of it. nil force was imperishable. "Wherever it existed it could not be lost; it only appeared in a new shape. Take heat, for instance ;it became molecular, originally moler. What was the process ? In consequence of the expansion of the particles on which it acted, they required more room, and motion took place—molecular expansion. What was the metaphysical and logical bearing of the subject? In tbe .enquiry at that moment ho must content himself to somo extent with that idea of force, for it was not logical to compare together things that were unlike ; and muscular force ami mental force could not bo compared. Bat the moment the mind grasped the result of force, it referred the existence of sensible forces to a central force. And what was known of that central force? Was it personal or impersonal? It must he clearly seen why scientific men were so impressed with this idea of force as connected with knowledge. It was ever present, and had impressed itself on matter. The lecturer closed with reading a quotation from a late writer, showing that there was an expenditure of carbon in all operations of mind as well aa in motion. Among particles of matter he stated that if the combustion of carbon was employed to give motion to the brain it was at the expense of the muscular system. If, on the other hand, carbon was chiefly employed in setting the muscles in motion, the mind would be at rest and probably robust health would result.

At the close of the lecture Dr. Webster, on behalf of the Provincial Council, proposed a vote of thanks to the three Professors for the intellectual treat afforded hy their lectures during tl\e last three evenings, with a request that their lectures might be printed, which was enthusiastically carried.