Nothing tends more to soften the asperities that necessarily arise than friendly meetings for the entertainment and instruction of each other. In a community like ours something of the kind is essential. In the race of life we jostle each other hardly; and in politics every subject is discussed with such freedom, that every man says and writes almost without restriction whatever he feels inclined. In such a state of things it is but natural that differences should arise, and angry passions be sometimes excited. Everything, therefore, that tends to calm or mollify such passions, and render us more considerate and tolerant the one to the other, has—indeed, must have—a salutary effect. And what is better fitted to produce such an effect than meeting for the friendly discussion of topics connected with arts, science, and literature?
In a social point of view, therefore, the advantages which will result from a flourishing institution, such as this Institute may become under vigorous and careful management, should not be overlooked or depreciated. However devoted we may be to the necessary occupation of our lives—however anxious to push' ourselves forward in the worldly career we are pursuing—it is essential that some time should be set apart for, and devoted to, recreation and amusement. It is indispensable for re-invigorating the faculties, and preparing them for renewed exertion in our vocations. But much time is unfortunately spent—harmlessly perhaps, but unprofitably. This is the more to be regretted, because at least equal employment, combined with profit, might be as readily obtained. Pleasure, no doubt, is to be derived simply from the acquisition of knowledge—knowing that which we knew not before—although it may be of a useless or trivial character; but how much more satisfactory to a thinking man is the reflection that he has added an important truth to his stock of knowledge, and how much is that satisfaction enhanced by having clearly fixed in his mind the proofs by which that truth is established. But of how far more importance than mere amusement are the advantages which ensue from the steady pursuit of scientific knowledge. There is not an occupation in life which cannot be assisted by science; and in a newly-settled country like New Zealand there are especially some sciences the knowledge of which would have pointed out the way to fortunes, or saved from ruin many who have passed away or are still amongst us.
Of what service, for instance, may I ask, would not a competent knowledge of geology, mineralogy, and chemistry have been to many of us? It is not long since that some mineral specimens were brought to Auckland by men who were impressed with the belief that they had made a great discovery. They were persuaded that they had found quartz and gold, and, led on by delusive expectations, had expended time and money in explora-
