Lesley.] «J<30 [March 15, 



five years — skim the thickest of the cream from his milk 

 pans, and make a bold (or a shy) present of it to the Society, 

 it is quite evident that every year of its existence would he 

 a twelve months' festival. 



Gentlemen, the Hall of the Philosophical Society is no 

 club-house. It is a rendezvous for thinkers. Its Society is 

 a republic of men who have inherited knowledge — who 

 have themselves manufactured and sold knowledge — who 

 are more or less disciplined to tell wdiat they know — whose 

 function it is to diffuse true information — whose very nature 

 it is to be hungry for truth, jealous for the truth, thankful for 

 the truth, proud of the truth, believing and trusting in truth 

 as the alpha and omega of the principles of things animate 

 and inanimate, and apt in the use of all the truth they can 

 get for the conduct of life. 



Let me say a word of the spirit which should characterize 

 a Philosophical Society like ours. 



When I began to attend its meetings many years ago — I 

 was an ardent young man then — the first thing that struck 

 me was the coldness of the room. I do not mean to conceal 

 the fact that there was a bright anthracite fire in the grate 

 on winter nights. But when anything too earnest or a 

 little enthusiastic was said, there was not only no applause, 

 but commonly no response. Chilling silence like a fog fell 

 upon orator and audience. Among the elders I could notice 

 a great regard for forms and precedents. Certainly a 

 younger man was always respectfully listened to, but some- 

 how or other he seemed to have no heart to speak again. 



The meetings, too, were often as short as they were formal, 

 an adjournment was moved as soon as might be after the min- 

 ute.-, obituary notices and nominations had been attended to. 

 Then a few old cronies would gather around the fireplace, 



