ue, and that the intellect of Europe might drift into dreary
monotony. The Universities always have been, and, unless they are diverted
from their original purpose, always will be, the guardians of the freedom
of thought, the protectors of individual spontaneity; and it was owing, I
believe, to Mill's want of acquaintance with true academic teaching that
he took so desponding a view of the generation growing up under his eyes.

When we leave school, our heads are naturally brimful of dogma--that is, of
knowledge and opinions at second-hand. Such dead knowledge is extremely
dangerous, unless it is sooner or later revived by the spirit of free
inquiry. It does not matter whether our scholastic dogmas be true or
false. The danger is the same. And why? Because to place either truth or
error above the reach of argument is certain to weaken truth and to
strengthen error. Secondly, because to hold as true on the authority of
others anything which concerns us deeply, and which we could prove
ourselves, produces feebleness, if not dishonesty. And, thirdly, because
to feel unwilling or unable to meet objections by argument is generally
the first step towards violence and persecution.

I do not think of religious dogmas only. They are generally the first to
rouse inquiry, even during our school-boy days, and they are by no means
the most difficult to deal with. Dogma often rages where we least expect
it. Among scientific men the theory of evolution is at present becoming,
or has become, a dogma. What is the result? No objections are listened to,
no difficulties recognized, and a man like Virchow, himself the strongest
supporter of evolution, who has the moral courage to say that the descent
of man from any ape whatsoever is, as yet, before the tribunal of
scientific zooelogy, "not proven," is howled down in Germany in a manner
worthy of Ephesians and Galatians. But at present I am thinking not so
much of any special dogmas, but rather of that dogmatic state of mind
which is the almost inevitable result of the teaching at school. I think
of the whole intellect, what has been called the _intellectus sibi
permissus_, and I maintain it is the object of academic teaching to rouse
that intellect out of its slumber by questions not less startling than
when Galileo asked the world whether the sun was really moving and the
earth stood still; or when Kant asked whether time and space were objects,
or necessary forms of our sensuous intuition