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Current Literature A Magazine of Contemporary Record

VOL. XXII., No. 1 "I have gathered me a posie of other men's flowers, and nothing but the thread that binds them is mine own." —Montaigne. JULY, 1897

EDITOR'S SYMPOSIUM An open table-talk round the literary board, whereat any may speak whose art is not too awkward

to unite truth and brevity with courtesy and wit

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T was in April that we here discoursed for a mo- "a course of work for the study of current events

ment or so on possible methods for meeting and the literature of the present century, more largely, practically, beneficently, the "democratic, especially of the latter half of the century," myriad-voiced, but eminently wise and worthy so- would say promptly, draw in your lines; you will licitation, 'Tell us what to read.'”

get more pleasure, and more profit, with less labor, Note, just for amusement, how we rounded those by a stronger concentration. And yet, we would remarks to their moorings: "Would any be glad to add, hold to variety; variety is good. To another know how to help in such work?”—wrote- club of ladies, "Lotus," by name, we must confess

"drop a line to the editor of this we are not "directing a course of reading for a numTo the Universal Fraternity--orSorosis_magazine; possibly he knows

ber of literary clubs,” and have no “terms, etc.”— of Systematic Readers some one who will answer it” — only suggestions, your rejection of which will of

Of course he knew! Would he fend nobody. One such we shall presently drop, have committed himself that far if he did not? which may be of some value to both these clubs, Hmm! editors are too cunning for that-they're the and to another one "of farmers' wives" with "good shrewdest people in the world! But notice, again, common-school educations,"wives leading-ah! who the interrogative part of the quotation. Does it questions it?—"very busy lives”; a club which has read—“Would any be glad to be helped,” etc.? O already been eyeing current events and reading the no! Catch an editor in such a corner as that! Look lives of its favorite authors, through twenty-four at it: "Would any be glad to know how to helpmeetings. See the difference! That difference saved the editor One small suggestion we will drop, as we say; from nervous prostration under an avalanche of let- there being no room at present for two; we may add ters.

more another time. Meanwhile we hope yet to print Nevertheless here are letters enough. Not one

than

two well

Cannot We Pool Our of them is unwelcome, understand, but virtually all

worked-out reading programmes

Reading of them are from people, sometimes solitary, some

from correspondents seeking times in clubs, who, very laudably, want to know "how to help”—others and themselves. For surely, how to help—themselves, bless you! but do not pro- surely it is as unecessary as it is pitiful that in a land fess any eagerness to help any general brotherhood as full as ours of fair, kind, book-lovers willing and of man or sisterhood of women. Well, that is prob- glad to widen human happiness, clubs of "farmers' ably owing to modesty, and beyond all doubt the wives—very busy,

wives—very busy," or of library-starved readers editor ought to blame simply himself for this one- away yonder in Texas, or lone, half-educated young sidedness of response. Obviously he did not put the fellows like one who writes us from Boston, having question with sufficient emphasis and the ladies in "no one in whom to seek advice regarding it, their "all but numberless clubs” appear, oddly should have to pay in "terms, etc.," hard money, enough, to have been talking at the time. Fact, he that is to say, for the mere programme

of a season's should have put it somewhat thus: “Would any

be course of good reading! Send us one-you-you! glad to know HOW TO HELP in such a work? Drop Here are yet other applications, one from the bora line”-etc.

ders of Kansas, and one from farthest Oregon. Opportunity to drop this line, to great unselfish advantage, is still open. Some men, not a few, and UR single suggestion of the moment is this: that hundreds of women, some of them widely read, certain books, whose preparation has required highly trained, and others thoroughly capable research and whose character requires them to cite though without these showy qualifications, are now the literary sources from which they have drawn, laying out the programmes of their own literary become by their nature admirable programmes of clubs for next season. Why may they not send such topical reading. Here, for instance, is Professor schedules to this magazine to be modified, adapted Moses Coit Tyler's newest work, his Literary Hisand published for the grateful guidance of thou

tory of the American Revolution. sands whose inner or outer resources, through no

Moses Coit Tyler's

Read it. It is rich, stimulating, fault of their own, are unequal to a like task. We

informing and delightful. And it promise to utilize anything sent us of that sort at is not only fascinating, itself, but it is a luminous its best value. We await your reply.

guide into the whole abundant, varied and alluring A word to those who have sought our counsel. field of our revolutionary literature; poetry, bellesTo one who "for a class of twenty-five ladies” wants lettres, biography, history, travel and crackling con

OY

New Volume

we are to

troversy—a whole season's reading though you loss, make up the outdoor furnishment of our daily should read as closely as it is pleasant or good to life and intellectual intercourse. The odd thing is give oneself to a single group of themes.

that this new interest does not with more energy Has it not pleased you to notice how large a pro- include the rocks and the stars. portion of these thousands of our people in town "Here is Thomas Wentworth Higginson," conand country, who are reading each year more and tinues our correspondent, "presenting us to a Promore systematically, are choosing the books that cession of the Wildflowers. He has left the realms tell the story of our own country and recount the wherein his vigorous common sense and plain lives of the men and women who in their several speaking have wrought with such good effect, to turns have been foremost in making it. Our read- tell us of his love for nature and to champion the ing clubs are nothing if not patriotic. From such New England climate, as he does every person or a class of readers no serious work which has ap- thing that is suffering from injustice or slander. peared for months, or years, has deserved or re- There may be nothing so very new in his book”— ceived a wider welcome than this volume of Profes- but his critic nevertheless quotes him with zest, sor Tyler's is likely to find.

thus: There is another class among us, but far smaller Absence is the very air of passion, and all the best deand, for the most part, difficult or impossible to scription is in memoriam. As with our human beloved, identify, which will owe him a gratitude no earlier when the graceful presence is with us we cannot analyze or historian of our revolutionary times has half so fully

describe, but merely possess, and only after its departure earned: to wit, the descendants of the revolutionary

can it be portrayed by our yearning desires; so it is with

Nature: only in losing her do we gain the power to deloyalists, grandchildren's children of the long re

scribe her, and we are introduced to Art, as viled and even still dishonored and disowned “tor

Eternity, by the dropping away of our companions. ies.” Now, as Professor Tyler reminds us, the co

Thence our grouper of nature-books turns to lonial tory was neither a rogue, a sneak nor a fool. He was as often a gentleman and a patriot—from Tree-tops and finds it all very good; making bright

Mrs. Olive Thorne Miller's latest work, Upon the his point of view—as his gentlest or deadliest polit- quotations for which we wish we had room, and ical or military opponent. He had exactly the same right to his convictions; and his children of to-day falling into amiable discussion with her concerning

the shrike or butcher-bird. Mrs. Miller knows of have the same perfect right to remember him. proudly as though his lost cause had been that of

one case wherein positively, and several wherein '60-'65. Shall we ever have among our proud so

upon all reasonable inference, the butcher was a cieties of ancestored dames one pluming itself as

perfect gentleman; silent, methodical, dignified, an

attentive husband, a kind father, and as blameless Daughters of the Revolutionary Loyalists? Fancy it! No, no; if there were nothing else to prevent

as you or I of his reputed habit of killing other

birds' young and impaling them on thorns. Our such a thing, there is a flaw, or universal shortcom

friend in manuscript, though professing a more liming in our human nature, because of which no

ited experience than Mrs. Miller's, is moved to tell peace-party in a nation that wins a war ever leaves a

of some of her own off-setting observations, though proud fame behind it. If there has ever been an ex

“accepting Mrs. Miller's amendments.” As thus: ception to this rule name it and you shall sit at this

On one occasion a shrike, which had been shot in one symposium.

wing, was brought to us, and we kept it in a cage for a few days. When meat was given to him he tried in vain

to hang it on the wires of the cage. We realized at last to read, and we can neither answer each one what he wanted, and fastened a twig of thorns in an upseparately nor expect one reply to satisfy all. And so, right position, when he straightway suspended his game to those who do not incline to history for summer

and tore it to pieces with the greatest satisfaction. reading—which is often a pity—but who insist upon

The presence of the shrike among the small birds, as I fitting their reading closely to the season, we assent

have observed it, causes as great a commotion as that of that this is the time for books which quicken our

a bluejay, but perhaps they are needlessly alarmed, as

they are at a screech owl. One winter day I saw a hairy eyes to the sights and sounds of An Arm-fall of Nat

woodpecker and a shrike playing a queer game. They nature. They are not scarce; ure-Books

were in a spruce tree in a neighbor's yard. The wood“What," asks one of our present pecker was dodging about the trunk, the shrike following company, "is the meaning of this sudden fever for

in the branches. Up and down they went, and round and nature-study—this outburst of books on the sub- round, silent for the most part, but now and then, with an ject?"

excited note from the pursued. Then the woodpecker Begging our questioner not to get excited

went down into the bath and the butcher bird onto the mostly it is lovely woman who has caused this ex

fence near by. Finally they rose into a maple tree, and plosion, and we believe the fact is due to the contin

then flew off out of sight, pursuing and pursued, a deep

snow preventing my following. I have wished many times ued expansion of her outdoor liberty and of her

since that I knew the outcome of the maneuvering. If it outdoor companionship with father, brother, lover,

came to a close fight, I should say that the woodpecker's husband and children. There is also a new mascu- pickaxe was as powerful as the shrike's hook, and the latline demand of course—under the circumstances. ter was doubtless aware of that fact, so that, though Besides, science grows every day more democratic, pressed by hunger, he hesitated to attack. more intelligible to us, "the general," and makes its Upon the Tree-tops, our friend considers "in no disclosures with such modest reverence for small way inferior to other works by the same author.” things and with such winning absence of conde- Mrs. Miller's fame, we are told, has not tempted her scending airs, that it enriches, as never before, the to relax her vigilance of observation or carefulspiritual value of the things which, without cost or ness of statement for a moment. This kindly critic

BUT here are other correspondents asking us what

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in our

of Mrs. Miller has abundant praise also for Mr. one length, at any rate, and are not longer than our Baskett's Story of the Birds, "a pleasant introduc- great journalist allows, for he heads his list with one tion to their study and a spur to further investiga- of Shakespeare's sonnets and ends it with a poem of tion,” quoting from "a charming chapter on Ac- eighty-five lines, to wit: Rudyard Kipling's Gunga quaintance with the Birds."

Din--stop laughing! Don't you suppose Kipling, Another pleasant member of our company com- that truly masterful poet, knows as well as we do, mends F. Schuyler Matthew's Familiar Trees and that Gunga Din—though, for reasons, it is fine-is Their Leaves with its descriptions and illustrations not one of the best ten even of his own poems? of more than two hundred varieties, and especially But suppose we were limited to sonnets. There finds it unsurpassed as a hand-book on the ever- would be some intelligence in that, and a pleasure greens. “The classification in regard to colors is in choosing. One would begin, of course, by taking simple enough for the most uninitiated botanist," at least five of Shakespeare's—for there's not a word the illustrations “needing nothing but the coloring said to forbid us entering as many short poems from to be perfect."

one poet as we may choose—inside of ten, that is; The same correspondent finds an excellent coun- we musn't go beyond ten. Still, we should not try reading-book in The Plant World, its Romances want to draw upon Shakespeare for more than nine and Realities, a prose and poeticalcompilation edited at the utmost, for there is Sir Philip Sidney. by Frank Vincent, M. A., with chapters on beauti- Imagine Sir Philip confronted with “standing room ful historic gardens, on marine plants, on plant lore, only" and Gunga Din--that “limping lump o' brick subterranean vegetation, carnivorous plants, and dust, Gunga Din," grinning at him from a seat like subjects.

among the upper ten. Very likely one reason why books on nature have Suppose again, that, not being limited to sonnets, so come into vogue is that our methods of educa- we should include songs; for our distinguished tion, more now than formerly, teach us the art of litterateur, "after giving much thought to the matobservation. Thus to a far greater number of us ter, has settled upon” three poems that are than of our uncles and aunts these books become songs—without counting Gunga Din, which, as glossaries to nature's own volume, promising, and its brilliant author certainly and rightly intended, at times rewarding, the most unpretentious of us,

is a howling good clog-dance; that and far without rude dangers or heavy toils, with the de

One of these songs is Burns's Scots Wha lights of original-or to us original-discovery. A

Hae. Did Burns never write a better song than Long Island friend, the sort of man that, each year, Bannockburn? Is that going to outlast—wellis the first in his neighborhood to hear the note of even-Auld Lang Syne? But never mind that. An the blue-bird, writes us thus:

odder fact is that none of these three songs, and About a year or so ago I placed among the trees sur- therefore none of these "best ten short

poems rounding our home a few bird-houses. It was my intention language," includes Shelley's Lines Set to an Indian to rent these cozy quarters on easy terms-a mere song- Air, or Ben Jonson's Drink to Me Only With exclusively to the wrens, but some saucy sparrows--the spar- Thine Eyes. They left out, and Gunga Din inrow, you know, builds earlier than the wren-seeing the va

cluded—Why, sir,-oh pshaw ! cant apartments,peremptorily took possession, and immediately settled down to housekeeping. The following spring,

Need we say what we think of Mr. Kipling as a however, I closed the door of the bird houses against poet? We think he is not at all best in barrackthese interlopers until the time, at least, when the wrens

room ballads and that even there he is sometimes began nesting. The wrens took possession; and, evidently superb. in fear of the sparrows, began to fill their houses with twigs until each one became a compact network of sticks.

OES it signify anything more than one man's ecThrough this ran, in each case, a hole just large enough to admit the wren's wee body, and behind this woody bar

centricity, and if so, what, that in this selection rier they reared their young unmolested by the spar

of our "ten best short"-to which we promise not to rows thenceforth.

Mr. Howells's Esti

allude again-only one poemmate of Mr. Kipling and it twice as long as the next

Criticized IKE the classical pease-porridge, never too good

longest and only one line shorter but no worse for the keeping, there comes to our

than five of the others combined—is from a living symposium board, perfectly kept since month before

author? One thing it inevitably implies; that if this last, an invitation, from one of the

is true critical justice then, as to short poems at greatest journals in this or any

least, Mr. Howells is right in calling Mr. Kipling country, to follow the example of

"the chief poet of his race in his time.” its distinguished editor and litterateur, and try to

Ah! well, we are not prepared to say yes, although name the best ten short poems in the English lan

we gladly confess again Mr. Kipling is a masterful

singer; and if we were ready to say no, we should guage. Well! Of all the rough and ill-defined challenges than there is left for the editor at this month's sym

want more time to say it so that it should stay said, that newspaper hurry ever tossed into the arena of literary criticism, isn't this the most so! What is a

posium. But now, as host at the board, it is our welshort poem, any way? How many verses must a

come duty to bid a guest* who mentions the matter poem have to be a long one? If one were asked to

speak as he is moved.

To take up arms against the critical judgments of so confine himself somehow, somewhere, within terres

accomplished, graceful and popular a writer as Mr. Howtrial limits, he might find a point from which to

ells may seem to many an audacious action. Has not Mr. draw a few venturesome comparisons. Suppose, Howells years? Has he not fame, style, depth, accufor instance, he were required to name the best ten sonnets in the language; sonnets are virtually all of * Mr. Calvin Dill Wilson.

D

L

*** Best” Poems and

Poets

mean

ex

racy, insight, judgment? What does he not have? Is he son cannot Swinburne be named with Kipling as a poet? not in many respects the heir of our great New England

There are many supposedly competent critics to-day, school of writers? Does he not know these writers better who certainly would name him so. than any one else does? Has he not caught their spirit? Mr. Howells quotes from The Seven Seas the poem Is he not the Elisha, upon whom the mantle of all those An American, in which the American Spirit speaks; and Elijahs has fallen? And when he speaks, does he not he gives as his judgment that it is "the most important speak with the united authority of Lowell, Emerson, thing intellectually," in the volume. He calls it a "very Holmes, and the rest? To run a tilt with this admit- extraordinary poem,” in which the writer has "divined tedly mighty man seems indeed almost absurd.

our actual average better than any American I can think Yet we must protest that this mighty man seems to us of offhand. The American Spirit speaks here as if a literary danger; in short a misleader of the people. He with the blended voice of Emerson and Ironquill. It is a discoverer of new gods, and occupies himself every gives a sense of his penetration and grasp.” now and then in erecting altars, and calling upon all of us Surely Mr. Kipling must have been amused by reading to bow down and worship at the shrines he builds. How this criticism. The poem shows no original insight into many altars has he built, anyway? Can any one tell us? things American. It is as evident an echo of Walt WhitThe land is thick with them. Hear his Commandments. man as was ever put on paper. The knowledge of the “Thou shalt worship Tolstoi. Thou shalt worship Zola, American Spirit has all the appearance of having been Howe, Paul Dunbar and the poetry of Rudyard Kip- obtained by diligent reading of Leaves of Grass. The ling."

adjectives are Whitman's; the spirit is Whitman's; everyNo one can help but admire Mr. Howells' generosity thing is Whitman's, except the regular metres. How and unstintedness of praise, when he gives at all. He Howells could have blundered in this manner is singular. puts the altar right on the mountain top. His gods are all It is as absolutely certain that Kipling was chock full of great, or he will have none of them. Surely he is an ex

Whitman when he wrote that poem, that he was lookample of author turned critic with a yet hospitable and ing through Whitman's eyes, as it is that Kipling is not unembittered heart. Himself a fine and popular writer, the greatest poet now writing in English, and that he is he gives laurels with a free hand, without envy or dis- not as great a poet as Swinburne, and that he is not conparagement. He is a noble-hearted man.

tinuing the "great tradition of English poetry.” That But are his literary judgments sound? Is he not given

he is a poet, a real one, possibly a great one, is quite to extravagant and misleading praise of writers who take

another matter. But why cannot so strong and bright his fancy, or whose work is in keeping with the cut-and

a man as Mr. Howells gives us calmer literary judgdried literary standard he has adopted?

ments. In the March number of McClure's Magazine, Mr. At a later date we hope to speak to this point, but Howells published an essay on Rudyard Kipling, as The

are sure only that we shall have large tribute to offer Laureate of the Larger England. Does this mean that

to the genius that has sung the Songs of Seven Mr. Kipling is a better poet than any other English

Seas and—as some one said yesterday, "widened the writing poet born outside of England, and within

field of human sympathy.” If we the British Empire? Does it that he

never follow presses best in his poetry the greatness and the

worse misleadings than Mr. Howells's we shall at spirit of that Empire? It means both, and more. Mr.

least never stumble into an ignoble view of Men Howells says that Kipling is "the chief poet of his race

or Letters. But let us return for just a moment to in his time.” Now, there is an assertion for you. A our nature-books. slight familiarity with the history of literary criticisms will Another reason why nature-books, now that they enable any one to recall the fact that judgments such as are so universally intelligible and attractive, find so this have been made before. But they have seldom been

many readers comes to our mind. For while critics approved by the wide-reaching good sense of the genera

of history are debating as to what is true and critics tions in which they have been uttered. Is it not possible that Mr. Howells, smitten with a desire to prove that our

of romance and poetry are differing as to what is age is too wise to overlook a Keats or Shelley of its own,

good and right, nothing else looks quite so absohas gone to the other extreme of discovering that which

lutely innocent as this converse with things so todoes not exist?

tally unspotted from the blight of “sinful man's" If we were not terrified by the immense prestige of Mr. strivings and strayings. And such reading is so Howells, we should feel like reminding him that there is restful! Yes, and yet let us not throw ourselves a poet still living, by name Swinburne, who as a poet, too recklessly into the arms of Nature. “Beware (however lamentable some of his material,) has shown of her,” once wrote Emerson to that true lover of some right to the claim of being foremost since the

man, the naturalist John Muir; "she's a glorious deaths of Tennyson and Browning. If it were a

mistress, but an intolerable wife.” On the

page

next matter of matching assertion against assertion, we should

this we print a masterly essay of Professor Thomas feel at liberty to place even against Mr. Howells' dogma

Davidson which though under a distinctive heading this, that Swinburne is at this moment the chief poet of the English-speaking race. What has Kipling produced,

is intended to be regarded as a part, the very best or shown sign of capacity to produce, to be measured

part, of this symposium. In his lucid forth-setting against Atalanta in Calydon? Kipling may be, and prob- of the true reasons why we seek and bestow eduably is, a great writer. But is he a poet of the stature of cation he assigns to nature and our interest in Swinburne? That is the question.

nature their proper place thus: “Man, then, with Mr. Howells declares that Kipling is “the English poet his intelligence, affections and will, stands over who continues the great tradition of English poetry most against a world of means and a world of ends—a conspicuously;” “there is no one else (except William

world of nature, and a world of culture. Watson) to name with him." How is it possible for

He must know both as well as he may; he must any man deeply versed as Howells is in English poetry

love both, with affection distributed according to to claim this? Does Kipling continue the "great tradi

the value of each thing for the ends of [humantion" of Shakespeare and Milton? Does he continue the "great tradition" of Dryden and Pope, of Byron, Shelley,

spiritual] freedom.

He must know, love Keats? Of Tennyson and Browning? Who can agree

and treat nature as a means; man as an end." But to this? Is not this praise gone mad? For what rea- turn to the page and read him.

mere

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THE UNITY OF EDUCATION * [Editorial Note.-Thomas Davidson, the distin- knowledge of Aristotle and Dante. He was one of the guished scholar, whose paper on “The Unity of Educa- most prominent leaders of the old Concord School of tion," and the elements which rightly enter into it Philosophy, and after that stopped he himself conducted here follows, born

Fetterangus, in Aber- for several years a similar school in Farmington, Conn. deenshire, Scotland, on October 25, 1840. At twenty This subsequently gave place to the Glenmore School of he graduated from the university of his native shire with the Culture Sciences in the Adirondacks. Here in the the Simpson Greek prize and the highest classical honors. wilderness, on the foot-hills of Mt. Hurricane, is gathered He was then for several years rector of the Grammar every summer a goodly company of people, living in cot(Latin) School of Old Aberdeen, after which he studied tages or tents scattered over the hillsides, in pursuit of a and traveled on the continent. In 1867 he came to the common ideal of knowledge and freedom. Lectures are United States and here, with the exception of a residence delivered in a large hall during July and August. Glenof some few years in Italy, he has since lived and worked. more, unlike Concord, is too far away for the newspaper His work has been that of a scholar and educator in the high- reporters, but its unique life, under the genial inspiration est and best sense. What that sense is may be gathered from of its founder, should make it famous. Mr. Davidson his address: education means for him spiritual freedom lives now the greater part of the year at Glenmore-in the through rational insight. This idea has given unity to a mountains among his books, probably the finest private wide range of scholarly activity that might otherwise ap- library of its kind in America. His publications include, pear incoherent. Of remarkable linguistic attainments and among others, Rosmini's Philosophical System (1882), vast erudition, he has devoted his life to mastering and ex- the translation of Rosmini's Psychology (3 vols. 1884pounding the great forces that make for spiritual freedom 1889). The Parthenon Frieze and other Essays (1882), the in the history of human culture. His aim has been to un- translation of Scartazzini's Handbook to Dante (1887), derstand in themselves and in their origin the ideas ex- Prolegomena to Tennyson's, In Memoriam (1889), Arispressed in the literature, the art, the science, the religion totle and the Ancient Educational Ideals (Great Eduand the philosophy of civilized humanity and to so real- cators Series, 1892), The Education of the Greek People ize these ideas and make others realize them as to develop (International Education Series, 1894), the article on that rational insight into the existence, the nature and the Longfellow in the Encyclopædia Britannica, and numermeaning of the spiritual universe which is the basis of true ous contributions to the Journal of Speculative Philosofreedom. With this aim, he has studied, written and lec- phy, the International Journal of Ethics, the Forum tured much on the cultural elements derived from Greece, and other literary and scientific magazines. He is at from Christianity and the Orient, from mediæval and mod- present engaged on a large work on Mediæval Philosoern literature and philosophy. Especially thorough is his phy.

The Ideal of
Education

will say:

Of the many and crying defects of education at trust the realization of it almost entirely to strangthe present day, none is more obvious or more fatal ers, being themselves, so they say--and, indeed, than its want of unity, its want of system. The the Philistine or irreligious person, always is—too cause lies in our lack of any clear idea of the end of much engaged. The parent, from their embarrasseducation, for every department of activity finds its ment and want of an ideal, has in a manner abdiunity in its end, or purpose. Very few persons, in

cated, and it has become necessary to set apart a deed, have any definite notion of what result educa- special class for the cultivation of parental feelings

tion is seeking to reach. Some and duties. The modern schoolmaster should

"We want to make change his name, for he has become a kind of stand

our pupils good citizens,” or per- ing or professional parent.”+ haps “We want to make them good men and women;" Let us try briefly to outline that ideal of educabut what constitutes a good citizen, or a good man,

tion which the modern world, rich beyond all earis not so easily discovered or stated. “Look," writes lier conditions in means to culture, seems to require, a well-known English author, with no reference to and to which the scientific and philosophic study of American education, but in words almost perfectly man's history and nature seems to point, and to true of it: "Look," he says, "how the English peo- make an attempt to show how that ideal may be ple treat their children. Try and discover from the realized. For, after all, if the world's colossal indusway they train them, from the education they give try is not a means to the realization of man as man, them, what they wish them to be. They have

as a spiritual being, it is of no more value than the ceased, almost consciously ceased to have any ideal industry of ants and beavers. If man is merely an at all. Traces may still be observed of an old ideal

industrial animal, he is the most pathetic object on not quite forgotten; here and there a vague notion

the surface of the globe. of instilling hardihood, a really decided wish to The study of man's history makes it clear that the teach frankness and honesty, and, in a large class, aim of all human life and culture is the realization of also good manners; but these, after all, are negative the free, self-directing man, and that in his freedoin virtues. What do they wish their children to aim lies the unitary principle of all education. at? What pursuit do they desire for them? Ex- In tending to freedom man tends away from boncept that when they grow up they are to make or or dage in four main forms, (1) bondage to physical have a livelihood, and take a satisfactory position in needs, (2) bondage to passion, (3) bondage to essociety, and in the meanwhile that it would be hard tablished institutions, (4) bondage to unseen powfor them not to enjoy themselves heartily (we should The savage and, to a large extent, the barbarsay "they must, under any circumstances, have a ian are compelled to spend most of their time and good time.") Most parents would be puzzled to

strength in an often unequal struggle with nature say what they wish for their children. And, what- for the necessaries of existence; most of what is ever they wish, they wish so languidly that they en- left is placed at the service of lust, jealousy, hatred,

ers.

* Original in Current Literature.

† Natural Religion, by the author of Ecce Homo, p. 128.

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