SIR HERCULES ROBINSON ON COLONIAL YOUTH.

Press, Volume XXIX, Issue 3896, 17 January 1878, Page 3

SIR HERCULES ROBINSON ON COLONIAL YOUTH.

At the annual celebration of the Sydney Grammar School, the prizes were distributed by His Excellency Sir Hercules Robinson, who took the opportunity of addressing some words of encouragement and advice to the scholars. In the course of his speech, he ■aid—As this is possibly the last prize day that I may be present at, I will just say a few words to you—words in which there will be no pretence at either originality or depth— but words of honest, plain- spoken counsel— counsel which is prompted solely by an affectionate interest in your welfare. [Hear, hear.] And first allow mc to say as regards the youth of this country—l am speaking generally, and without speoial reference to this school—that they seem to mc to be as intelligent, manly, generous, affectionate, j and unselfish as any., boys in the world, j [Cheers.] These are their strong points. Their weak points appear to mc to be that they lack modesty, are too independent, and are wanting in deference for age and authority. [Hear, hear.] The typical I Australian youth of the period is generally sketched as a young man who "fancies himself" considerably. [Laughter and cheers.] He- evinces the most complete | belief in himself, and confidence in his own judgment and knowledge of the world. He thinks himself wiser than his elders, and , often looks upon them and treats them as the ] old fogies—estimable, no doubt, as far as their lights go — but old-fashioned, and scarcely ug to his idea of what is what in the present day. [Laughter and cheers] This description is, perhaps, somewhat of a caricature j but I must honestly say that the impression left on my mind after fire years' experience is that there is at all events some foundation for it. Many of you have, no doubt, read Trollope's amusing description of Australian "blowing," but perhaps few of you have read a charming little book by Kingsley —"The Boy in Grey." I was reading it the other evening to my own little boy— whose performances, by the way, in the blowing line are of no mean order —[laughter] —when I came upon a passage which I endeavored to explain to him as pointing a moral especially applicable to his case. The " Boy in Grey " and " Prince Philarete " were going round the world in a birch-bark canoe, and in the description of what they saw on their tour the following passage occurs: —" Well, they saw something when they approached the Australian shore. All the male adult colonists were down on the shore ; and every man had brought his grandmother, and every man had brought an egg, and was showing his grandmother how to suck it. [Laughter.] ' Come here,' they cried, as Gil and the Prince coasted along; 'come here, you two, and learn to suck eggs. We will teach you to suck all kinds of eggs, not merely those of the emu and talegalla, but those of the bluethroated warbler. And we will teach you to suck eggs which we have never seen. Come ashore, come ashore.'" [Laughter.] _ Now, my boys, I do not mean to say that this story is especially applicable to you, but we all know how easy it is to acquire bad habits from those about us, and so I would just give you three words of advice—Don't blow ; don't think you know more than your grandmothers ; and above all, be modest. Remember that of all the charms of youth modesty is the most engaging and attractive. [Cheers.] And next I will say a few words about the part which many of you will probably take in public life after you leave this school. In this country the responsibilities of citizenship are brought home to all. As educated men you will all take an interest, and many of you will doubtless be engaged, in public affairs. I would say, then, do not jump at conclusions on public questions without the same degree of thought and care which you would feel bourd to exercise in regard to your private concerns. Strong convictions often accompany very limited knowledge. Accustom yourselves, therefore, to look at both sides of questions, notwithstanding that such a course, as Don Quixote satirically remarks, is apt to confuse, and keep your minds open to reasoning until you are satisfied that you have sufficiently mastered a subject in all its bearings" to qualify you to frame_ a sound judgment upon it. Upon this point Faraday well observes:—" Let mc endeavour to point out what appears to mc to be a great deficiency in the exercise of the mental powers in every direction; three words will express this great want —deficiency of judgment. I do not wish to make any startling assertions, but I know that in physical matters multitudes are ready to draw conclusions who have little or no power of judgment in the cases ; that that the same is true of other departments of knowledge, and that generally mankind is willing to leave tha faculties which relate to judgment almost entirely uneducated, and their decisions at the mercy of ignorance, prepoaaes—iona, the paasions, and even accidents." [Cheers.] Then, again, I would say, in arriving at a judgment upon public questions, do not allow your mind to dwell much on popularity. I should say that popularity, as a rule, is too much thought of in Australia. The only popularity that ia worth having — and

worth having only in so far as it may increase your influence for good —is the popularity which grows gradually, without your seeking it, from the public conviction that, whether you may be right or wrong, you always honestly act up to your light and gifts, and fearlessly abide the consequences. [Cheers.] Any other popularity is not worth walking across the street to secure, and woe to the man who lays himself out to obtain it. Popularity and unpopularity are both often equally undeserved. Human nature is very much the same now as it was in the time when the barbarous people of Melita, who showed Paul no little kindness, declared at first that he was a murderer, and then, changing their minds, said that he was a god. The only difference is that nowadays the process is often reversed. [Laughter.] You have all doubtless read the Athenian fable of the old man and his son, and their ass, and the result which followed on their attempt to please all mankind. Well, boys, when you embark iv public life make up your minds to one thing—that come what may, you won't carry the donkey. [Laughter and cheers.] Now, a word on style. When you have formed a judgment, to give effect to it you must either write or speak, and, as the French say, "Le style e'est Vhomme. Avoid an inflated, grandiloquent, "and redundant mode of expression. Let clearness and simplicity be your aim. You seldom find a man credited for sound judgment if he has caught the trick of expressing himself in an involved and pompous phraseology, and on the other hand, many men have got, fand daily do get reputation for greater capacity than they really possess, because they have acquired the art of putting their ideas, whatever they may be worth, in few, clear, and well-selected words. [Hear, hear.] I would also urge on you the due observance of courtesy in the intercourse of public life. Many of you must know the often quoted lires in Ovid r— I: Ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes, Emollit mores, nee sinit esse feros." If yon profit as you should do by the softening influences which Mr Wcigall bringg to bear on you here—[cheers] —you will have learned when you leave this to subdue savage impulses, and to show habitual consideration for the feelingß and opinions of others. Remember that opinions may vary without insincerity or dishonesty, and that a case is always weakened by vulgar vituperation. A time will no doubt come to each of you in \ public controversy when your blood will wax warm, and when the hitting will become hard and fast; but however hot the combat, remember these simple rules:—Treat your adversary fairly—never impute motives—never descend to personalities—in a word, never hit below the belt. [Cheers.] There are graver matters upon which I scarcely dare to touch. We live, as has been truly observed, in an age when the traditional solutions of the great mysteries which surround our life—solutions which were generally accepted as formulas by our fathers and grandfathers—are now subjected to' ruthless scientific examination and criticism; and when many brains are bewildered, and many hearts are made to ache, by the vain effort to solve problems impenetrable to human reason. I scarcely like even to allude to such a subject, but I know that you cannot fail, evei"y one of you, before long to feel the influence of the restless probing spirit of the age in which you live, and I will, therefore, say to you that in my opinion the happiest state is that in which a man can cling with firm unquestioning faith to the belief, whatever it may be, in which he was brought up at his mother's knee. But if you are irresistibly drawn by a sense of responsibility to examine for yourselves into such profoundly interesting, yet perplexing questions, I would say, do so in a humble, reverent, and truth-seeking spirit, keeping your doubts and difficulties and perplexities to yourselves, and not seeking to make other share them with you. It is comparatively easy to shake a person's belief in the faith in which he was born, but it is most difficult to get him afterwards to hold on firmly to any other. The subject, too, is so illimitable, and the time and opportunities available to most so scanty, that few can attain by personal investigation to more than a mere .smattering on the subject. Be content, therefore, I repeat, if you can, to hold, 'on to the dogmas in which you have • been brought up—try to prove the efficacy of the doctrines which you profess by leading pure, and simple, and noble lives—-and instead of seeking to sound unfathomable depths, strive to find out simply what your work in life is, and do it. [Cheers.] Each one of you, my hoys, has your duty in life if you will only recognise it; and believe mc, that true happiness is only to be found in the fulfilment of each individual duty that lies in your path, whether pleasant or otherwise. Happiness may be sought elsewhere, but it will never be found, for, as has been beautifully observed, " duty is not a thing of choice, it is a stream that flows from the foot of the invisible throne, and its course is by the path of obedience." You may choose not to do your duty —you may choose to avoid the trouble that it often brings—but you will go forth into the world, my young friends, and you will find trouble without duty bitter herbs, and no bread with them.