the original sources of literature, the great books, ancient or modern, they may never have directly resorted, never even have seen them from afar, nay, never so much as heard of them; but they drink from them all the same, every time they take in a thought or a fancy, however brought within their reach, that once sprang up first in some great human brain, and was then immortalized in a tale, an essay, a history, a poem. Thus much for the extent or quantity of the influence for good to men exerted by literature. It certainly is not too much to claim for literature that it is an interest broad enough in its range and reach of power to be called a general, if not a universal interest of civilized mankind. We have next and last to consider the kind or quality of this expansive influence. As I have said, it is not to most men a material good. Only to those who live by literature, to those who make books, to our men and women of letters distinctively so-called, is literature a material interest. To the vast majority of us all, literature is chiefly a spiritual, an intellectual, a sentimental good. This I fully admit. But I am far from admitting that because this is so, therefore literature is less a real good than anything else whatever, no matter what, the most solidly material interest of mankind that you can name. For what is our life? It is no doubt partly animal. We need, first of all, to subsist somehow, and then, if possible, to subsist comfortably. Beyond these two ends, subsistence and comfort, our animal nature has little or no craving. Give us a chance to go on living, and living with comfort, and we as animals ask nothing more. Science greatly helps us to accomplish these ends, and for so much we owe to science a large debt. But beyond this limit what does science do for us, for us, I mean, the generality of mankind? I wish to be perfectly candid and to concede to the claim of science everything that is justly hers. But what, I ask, beyond helping us live, and helping us live comfortably, does science even aim or aspire to do for the majority of the human race? For the scientists themselves, I acknowledge, for that comparatively small number of men who engage in the pursuits of science as a business of their life, science does much more. For these men science affords a means to vast enlargement and ennoblement of mind. The brilliant hypotheses, the bold speculations, the broad generalizations, the stimulating guesses, the expansive conceptions, with which science deals—what can be thought of more fitted to feed the imagination and reason of man and advance him to the strength and stature of angels than is such occupation of mind as these afford? And then no doubt also, mere patient observation for the collection of facts is a work more humble, indeed, yet worthy to be reckoned a true discipline and reflection of the intellectual nature. But then we are to remember that these relations to science are for the few and not for the many.