Convocation Addresses of the Universities of Bombay and Madras/Part 2/J. D. Mayne, Esq., B.A.

2364279Convocation Addresses of the Universities of Bombay and Madras — Third Convocation Address of the University of Madras1892John D. Mayne

THIRD CONVOCATION.

(By J. D. Mayne, Esq., B.A.)

Gentlemen,—I feel peculiar pleasure in being chosen to address you on this occasion, since I have been personally acquainted with almost all of you, ever since my arrival in this country. In my capacity as teacher, I have had the opportunity of watching your progress in various branches of study; and as few can be better acquainted with the zeal and energy which you have displayed, so I am sure that none can more sincerely and heartily congratulate you upon the success which you have won. And it is no empty compliment when I speak of this Degree as a success. The Degree of Bachelor of Arts. In England the mere Degree of Bachelor of Arts has been so eclipsed by the Honor Examinations, that it has become little more than a matter of form, and as it may be attained with very slight merit, so its attainment carries very little weight. Here the reverse is the case. It has been wisely considered that an infant University, like that of Madras, which has still got its name to make, should commence by only acknowledging realmerit. It has been determined that as far as can be, her stamp should only be impressed upon sterling gold, and not upon tinsel or pinchbeck. And accordingly the Examination for the Degree of Bachelor of Arts has designedly been made very arduous both from the number of subjects, and from the high standard of answering required. It is the unanimous opinion of the Examiners that it is fully as difficult to obtain a first rank among the Bachelors of Arts in Madras, as to obtain a second Honor in England, and those who receive the diploma of this University will go forth into the world, stamped as the possessors of knowledge far more extensive and accurate than would be evinced by the acquisition of a similar diploma at home.

But, gentlemen, while I congratulate you upon this high distinction, I must still, Success in school and success in after-life. ungracious as it may appear, warn you against assuming that this success will ensure a similar measure of success through life. I know it is common enough to tell those who have gained prizes as students, that the same qualities which placed them before their fellows in early life, will procure them equal prominence in their after-career. This is partly true, but it is not the whole truth. It is partly true, for industry and talent will always bear a market value; but it is not the whole truth, otherwise we should not see so many instances of clever school boys and brilliant University men who turn out utter failures in after-life. Every one who has watched the career of their own contemporaries, will know how often this happens. I believe the fact to be, that distinguished success in practical life calls for qualities, mental and moral, which you have not been required to display as students, and that it is upon the possession and exertion of these qualities that it depends, whether you will ever emerge from the rank of respectable mediocrity. Not only is this so, but there are habits of mind engendered by a long course of study which are in themselves unfavourable to active exertion in real life. It is only in proportion as you guard against the one and develop the other, that you will maintain your present position in after-years.

I have seen it remarked, I forget by whom, that reading Why some men of great learning fail. is often only a form of indolence, where we study what others have thought, in order to save the trouble of thinking for ourselves. Now this is a form of indolence into which successful students are very apt to fall. As long as you are learners, reading is the end. When you come to be doers, reading is only the means. Hitherto your success has depended upon the extent to which you could remember what others have written. Henceforward your success will depend upon the extent to which you can apply it. Knowledge is like good food. It is always pleasant, but it will only make you able to work if you digest and assimilate it. Before it can be of any service to you, you must have made it your own, and learnt how to employ it. And this is the reason that men of great learning are often beaten, even in their own pursuits, by others of inferior acquisitions. The man who has only one weapon which he can use, will always conquer the man who has a dozen which, lie cannot use. And therefore I would warn you against trying to keep up your knowledge on too diffuse a scale. There have been men, like Pascal, Voltaire, Lord Brougham, and Lord Macaulay, who seemed capable of grasping and using every species of learning. But such, men are rare, and you can hardly expect to be of the number. Select that knowledge which will be of use to you, and make accuracy in that your first object. Take care not to be brilliant smatterers, just sufficiently acquainted with every subject to make mistakes in it.' Hitherto your education has been intended to fit you for every path of life, but you can only travel along one. Make up your minds which, that one is to be, and then sedulously collect every scrap of information which will fit you for it. Do not be content with reading, or even with remembering what you read, but think it into shape; so that when an emergency arrives, you may be found with principles of action, and not merely with a chaos of facts at your command.

But, gentlemen, a mere knowledge of principles is not sufficient without that skill in their application Combine experience with knowledge. which is only to be acquired by experience. The daily problem of real life is how to produce some effect. For that purpose you require not only an acquaintance with the principle, but also with the subject-matter to which it is to be applied. The former can be obtained from books, the latter only from experience. You can acquire the theory of swimming to perfection, without seeing more water than would fill a basin. But if you were to rely solely upon this, you would be drowned the very first time you ventured out of your depth. And so it is in every profession. A Medical student may be acquainted with the use of every drug in the Pharmacopoeia. He may be perfect in describing the symptoms of every disease; but the first time he is taken to a sick bed, and told to ascertain from the languid eye, the feeble pulse and incoherent answers of the patient what his illness is, the chances are a hundred to one that he goes wrong. The point in which the student is excelled by the great master of his art, consists not in a superior knowledge of anything that may be learnt out of books, but in the intuitive skill with which that knowledge is adapted to new states of facts. This can only be acquired by patient study of the realities of life. And I tell you this not to discourage you, but to show you that you must not consider your education complete though you have mastered, everything that can be found in books : that you must summon up your energies for new, and at first, very disheartening labours, and must try to evolve mental qualities, of whose very existence you are as yet almost unconscious. Reading can only give one-half of your education. The remainder must be acquired by practice; and it is well that you should know this, as it will serve both to check that excessive confidence, which is always felt at first by a clever youth overflowing with book knowledge and to soften the disappointment and sense of failure which he will always experience, when he first comes into competition with the trained intellect of an experienced man.

But mental qualities alone are not sufficient without the moral qualities which give them stability and direction. Cultivate the principle of honor. All your talent, and learning and industry will be worthless, unless you can be trusted. And therefore I implore you first of all, and above all, to cultivate that principle of honor, without which all your intellectual powers will only be a snare to yourselves, and a source of danger to others. The more eminent you are in other respects, the greater will be your temptation in this, for you will be capable of being of more service to others who may wish to twist you to their own bad ends. Gentlemen, there is nothing so easy to preserve as your honor, as long as it is jealously watched. There is nothing so impossible to regain, if it is once lost or tainted. And therefore I would earnestly entreat you to guard against the first slight deviation from strict integrity, the first prevarication, which will inevitably have to be backed up by a lie—the first dishonest gain, which will be renewed till you become hopelessly corrupt. The dishonest man does a three-fold injury. He injures himself, and he injures the person whom he defrauds, and he injures every other honest man, by weakening that confidence which we are naturally disposed to place in the integrity of others. Result of honesty and reason for honesty. And while you are strengthening yourselves in the resolve to be honorable, let me warn you against taking that utilitarian maxim that "Honesty is the best policy," as an accurate compendium of ethics. It is a very true maxim, if you do not confound the result of honesty with the reason for honesty. Honesty is the best policy^ but the man who is honest because it is politic, will be apt to reverse the maxim, and to think that what he fancies to be most politic is honest. The man who does this is lost. He is exchanging a star which is certain to guide him safely, for an ignis fatuus which will lure him to destruction. We are seldom mistaken in what is honest, but we are very apt to be mistaken in what is politic, and we are quite certain to consider that course to be politic, to which our inclinations lead us at the time. Be honest because it is right, and you will find the policy following, perhaps in a manner which you never looked for. You may not be rewarded by places or rupees, you may even be considered by your associates to have been merely scrupulous fools, but you will reap your reward in that self-respect and contentment, which, always follows upon a consciousness of having done your duty, which places and rupees can never bestow, and the want of which places and rupees can never supply.

Gentlemen, these are trite truths, and I wish they were so fully recognised The failing of the natives of India. and acted upon in this country, as to render it a waste of time for me to dwell upon them. But unfortunately it is not so. Many and brilliant exceptions there have been, but as a general rule, the natives of India have still to earn a character for integrity and truth. And, however it may suit the policy of those who wish to flatter you, to conceal it, the fact still remains, that it is this failing chiefly which has kept you back, and which, so long as it exists, will keep you back from the place which you ought to occupy as a nation.

I trust that a brighter era is now dawning. The night is now past, and I hope that a glorious day is at hand. Responsibilities of graduates. What that day may be, mainly depends upon you, and those who are now being educated like you in this country. It is a solemn reflection, that at regular intervals the world is given over into a fresh set of hands. The school-boys of this generation are the masters of the next, and the fathers of that which is to follow—and then they have to answer to futurity for the way in which they have discharged their trust. Gentlemen, your turn comes next. Are you prepared to undertake it? From the position you have won, as possessors of wide attainments in a country where such attainments are rare, you will have great advantages, but you will have equally great responsibilities. In your persons, the cause of education is on its trial. I have often heard it said, that education in India is a perilous experiment. I believe it to be neither a peril nor an experiment. I believe that it is our duty to spread education as widely as we can, and I believe that whatever is inherently right, must be more certain and more safe than any other course that can be pursued. But these truths are not established at once, and it depends upon you whether the proof shall be .speedy or slow. You will go into the world as the heralds of a new system. Take care that you do not disgrace it. You will find every one willing to receive you and trust you as something better than those whom they have known. But if they find that you are no better, then they will never trust your race again. I appeal to you, not merely as individuals who have to make your own way in life, but as patriots who are going forth under new banners, to a new fight, to rescue their country from that worst of slavery, moral degradation. You have the noblest opportunities before you which I believe were ever offered to the natives of this country. Everything is open to you if you will only prove yourselves fit for it. Will you show yourselves worthy of the occasion, or will you not? In your persons, the mass of your countrymen will be judged. Will you betray them, or will you not? I am certain that you will not. I am certain that you, as far as in you lies, will strive to keep the hoods which you have this day received, without tarnish or stain. I trust that you will be the foremost of a long race of whom the University of Madras will have cause to be proud, men as remarkable for their integrity as for their learning. I trust that you will prove that virtue knows no distinction of country or colour. That India, as well as Europe, can rear up her own sons to be gentlemen, without fear and without reproach.