Page:Essays and Addresses.djvu/610

 were least alive to their national duties and responsibilities. I shall not attempt to offer a defence for the academic shortcomings of the eighteenth century. But, if the censure is not to be too sweeping, it is well to observe certain points. First—we should remember that those studies which Universities seek to foster cannot really thrive unless they are animated by at least some touch of ardour, some spark of a generous enthusiasm. They are sensitive to the atmosphere about them, and are apt to be chilled by a surrounding apathy. The eighteenth century, correct, judicious, observant of measure and obedient to common sense, gave little encouragement to large aspirations or lofty ideals. These, however, are the breath of life to young students, and most of all to the best. Never, perhaps, did scholars work with greater intensity than the great schoolmen of the thirteenth century;—Duns Scotus, for instance, dying, it is said, at thirty-four, left the equivalent of thirteen printed folios;—and they could do so, because the ideal before them was so grand. The eighteenth century was in this respect at the opposite pole from the thirteenth. There was little in it to feed the sacred fire. If the Universities were torpid, their fault was at least so far the less, that they were breathing an unfavourable air. In the next place, it should be noted that the torpor was not unbroken or universal. Like the heroes in the battles of the Iliad, the two Universities have their respective moments of pre-eminence; and in regard to the