familiar friends: of these he gains a part to his own cause; irritates the rest against him; and shows to all men, who are aiming at a certain elevation in doctrine and life, what they have to look for from the world. And thus, for the noble portion of mankind, his walk and conversation are even more instructive and profitable than his death: for to those trials every one is called, to this trial but a few. Now, omitting all that results from this consideration, do but look at the touching scene of the Last Supper. Here the Wise Man, as it ever is, leaves those that are his own, utterly orphaned behind him; and while he is careful for the Good, he feeds along with them a traitor, by whom he and the Better are to be destroyed."

This seems to us to have a deep, still meaning;' and the longer and closer we examine it, the more it pleases us. Wilhelm is not admitted into the shrine of the Third Religion, the Christian, or that of which Christ's sufferings and death were the symbol, as his walk and conversation had been the symbol of the Second, or Philosophical Religion. "That last Religion," it is said,—

"That last Religion, which arises from the Reverence of what is Beneath us; that veneration of the contradictory, the hated, the avoided, we give to each of our pupils, in small portions, by way of outfit, along with him, into the world, merely that he may know where more is to be had, should such a want spring up within him. I invite you to return hither at the end of a year, to attend our general Festival, and see how far your son is advanced: then shall you be admitted into the Sanctuary of Sorrow."

"Permit me one question," said Wilhelm: "as you have set up the life of this divine Man for a pattern and example, have you likewise selected his sufferings, his death, as a model of exalted patience?"

"Undoubtedly we have," replied the Eldest, "Of this we make no secret ; but we draw a veil over those sufferings, even because we reverence them so highly. We hold it a damnable audacity to bring forth that torturing Cross, and the Holy One who suffers on it, or to expose them to the light of the Sun, which hid its face when a reckless world forced such a sight on it; to take these mysterious secrets, in which the divine depth of Sorrow lies hid, and play with them, fondle them, trick them out, and rest not till the most reverend · of all solemnities appears vulgar and paltry. Let so much for the present suffice- *** The rest we must still owe you for a twelvemonth. The instruction, which in the interim we give the children, no stranger is allowed to witness: then, however, come to us, and you will hear what our best Speakers think it serviceable to make public on those matters."

Could we hope that, in its present disjointed state, this emblematic sketch would rise before the minds of our readers, in any measure as it stood before the mind of the writer; that, in considering it, they might seize only an outline of those many meanings which, at less or greater depth, lie hidden under it, we should anticipate their thanks for having, a first or a second time, brought it before them. As it is, believing that, to open-minded truth-seeking men, the deliberate words of an open-minded truth-seeking man can in no case be wholly unintelligible, nor the words of such a man as Göethe indifferent, we have transcribed it for their perusal. If we induce them to turn to the original, and study this in its completeness, with so much else that environs it, and bears on it, they will thank us still more, To our own judgment at least, there is a fine and pure significance in this whole delineation: such phrases even as 'the Sanctuary of Sorrow,' 'the divine depth of Sorrow,' have of themselves a pathetic wisdom for us; as indeed a tone of devoutness, of calm, mild, priestlike dignity pervades the whole. In a time like ours, it is rare to see, in the writings of cultivated men, any opinion whatever bearing any mark of sincerity on such a subject as this: yet it is and continues the highest subject, and they that are highest are most fit for studying it, and helping others to study it.

The following passages, of a pedagogical character, are taken from Goethe's Wilhelm Meister in Carlyle's version:

In order to accomplish any thing by education, we must first become acquainted with the pupil's tendencies and wishes: that when these are ascertained, he ought to be transported to a situation where he may, as speedily as possible, content the former and attain the latter; and so if we have been mistaken, may still in time perceive his error; and at last having found what suits him, may hold the faster, and the more diligently fashion himself by it

The child's desire to have distinctions made in his ideas grew stronger every day. Having learned that things had names, he wished to hear the name of every thing supposing that there could be nothing, which his father did not know, he often teased him with his questions, and caused him to inquire concerning objects, which but for this he would have passed unheeded. Our innate tendency to pry into the origin and end of things was likewise soon developed in the boy. When he asked whence came the wind, and whither went the flame, his father for the first time truly felt the limitation of his own powers, and wished to understand how far man may venture with his thoughts, and what things he may hope ever to give account of to himself or others.

You admit that poets must be born such; you admit this with regard to all professors of the fine arts; because you must admit it, because those workings of human nature can scarce be aped with any plausibility. But if we consider strictly, we shall find that every capability, however slight, is born with us; that there is no vague general capability in men. It is our ambiguous dissipating education that makes men uncertain; it awakens wishes when it should be animating tendencies; instead of forwarding our real capacities, it turns our efforts towards objects which are frequently discordant with the mind that aims at them. I augur better of young persons who are wandering astray along a path of their own, than of many who are walking rightly upon paths, which are not theirs. If the former, either by themselves, or by the guidance of others, ever find the right path, that is to say, the path which suits their na ture, they will never leave it; while the latter are in danger every moment of shaking off a foreign yoke, and abandoning themselves to unrestricted license.

Without earnestness there is nothing to be done in life: yet among the people whom we name cultivated men, but little earnestness is to be found in labors and employments, in arts, nay even in recreations, they proceed, if I may say so, with a sort of self-defense; they live, as they read a heap of news papers, only to be done with it; they remind one of that young Englishman at Rome, who told, with a contented air, one evening in some company, that 'today he had dispatched six churches and two galleries.' They wish to know and learn a multitude of things, and exactly those with which they have the least concern; and they never see that hunger is not stilled by snapping at the air. When I become acquainted with a man, my first inquiry is: With what does he employ himself, and how, and with what degree of perseverance? The answer regulates the interest, which I shall take in him for life.

The invaluable happiness of liberty consisted, not in doing what one pleases, and what circumstances may invite to, but in being able, without hindrance or restraint, to do in the direct way what one regards as right and proper.

Art is long, life short, judgment difficult, occasion transient. To act is easy, to think is hard; to act according to our thought is troublesome. Every beginning is cheerful; the threshold is the place of expectation. The boy stands astonished, his impressions guide him; he learns sportfully, seriousness comes on him by surprise. Imitation is born with us; what should be imitated is not easy to discover. The excellent is rarely found, more rarely valued. The height charms us, the steps to it do not; with the summit in our eye, we love to walk along the plain. It is but a part of art that can be taught; the artist needs it all. Who knows it half, speaks much and is always wrong; who knows it wholly, inclines to act and speaks seldom or late. The former have no secrets and no force; the instruction they can give is like baked bread, savory and satisfying for a single day; but flour can not be sown, and seed corn ought not to be ground. Words are good, but they are not the best. The best is not to be explained by words. The spirit in which we act is the highest matter. Action can be understood and again represented by the spirit alone. No one knows what he is doing, while he acts rightly; but of what is wrong we are always conscious. Whoever works with symbols only is a pedant, a hypocrite, or a bungler. There are many such, and they like to be together. Their babbling detains the scholar; their obstinate mediocrity vexes even the best. The instruction, which the true artist gives us, opens up the mind; for where words fail him, deeds speak. The true scholar learns from the known to unfold the unknown, and approaches more and more to being a master.

True art is like good company: it constrains us in the most delightful way to recognize the measure, by which and up to which our inward nature has been shaped by culture.

It was the history of art alone, which could give us an idea of the worth and dignity of any work of art; that we should know the weary steps of mere handicraft and mechanism, over which the man of talents has arisen in the course of centuries, before we can conceive how it is possible for the man of genius to move with airy freedom, on the pinnacle whose very aspect makes us giddy.

Men are so inclined to content themselves with what is commonest; the spirit and the senses so easily grow dead to the impressions of the beautiful and perfect; that every one should study to nourish in his mind the faculty of feeling these things by every method in his power. For no man can bear to be entirely deprived of such enjoyments: it is only because they are not used to taste of what is excellent, that the generality of people take delight in silly and insipid things, provided they be new. For this reason, one ought every day at least to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.

If we can conceive it possible that the Creator of the world himself assumed the form of his creation, and lived in that manner for a time upon earth, this creature must appear to us of infinite perfection, because susceptible of such a combination with its maker. Hence, when we feel a certain disagreement with Him, and remoteness from Him, it is on that account the more our duty to seek out every property and beauty of our nature, by which our pretension to a similarity with the Divinity may be made good.

THE EDUCATION OF YOUTH.

BY CHARLES ROLLIN,

Principal of the University of Paris, Professor of Eloquence in the Royal College, etc.

INTRODUCTION.

This introduction will contain two articles. In the first I shall show the importance of the good education of youth. In the second I shall inquire whether public instruction is preferable to private.

1. Importance of Good Education.

The education of youth has been ever considered by the great philosophers and the most famous lawgivers as the most certain source of the tranquility and happiness, both of private families and of states and empires. For what else, in short, is a republic or kingdom but a large body, whose health and strength depend upon the like circumstances of private families which are the members and parts of it, and none of which can fail in the discharge of their function but the whole body must suffer for it? Now what is it but good education which enables all the citizens and great men, and princes above the rest, to perform their different functions in a deserving manner? Is it not evident that youth are as the nursery of the state? That it is renewed and perpetuated by them? That from among them all the fathers of families, all magis trates and ministers; in a word, all persons placed in authority and power are taken? And is it not certain that the good education of those who are one day to fill those places will have an influence over the whole body of the state, and become, in a manner, the spirit and general character of the whole nation?

The laws, indeed, are the foundation of empires, and by preserving a regularity and good order in them, they keep them in peace and tranquility. But whence have the laws themselves that force and vigor, but from good education, which trains up men in subjection to them, without which they are but a feeble barrier against the passions of mankind?

Quid leges sine moribus vanæ proficiunt ? *

Plutarch makes a judicious reflection on this subject which well deserves to be considered: "Tis in speaking of Lycurgus. "This wise lawgiver," says he,‡ "did not think it convenient to set down his laws in writing, as judging that the strongest and most effectual means of making cities happy and people virtuous, was the impression that was *Horat. Od. xxv. lib. 3. + In vit. Lycurg.

Arist. lib. 5, v. Polit. cap. 9.

made in the manners of the citizens, and rendered familiar and easy to them by custom and habit. For the principles which education has engraven in their minds continue firm and unshaken, as being founded upon an inward conviction, and even upon the will, which is always a much stronger and more lasting tie than that of force; insomuch that this education becomes the rule of youth, and serves them instead of a lawgiver." Here we have the justest notion that can be given of the difference there is between the laws and education.

The law, when it stands alone, is a severe and imperious mistress, áváуk, which lays a man under restraint in what he holds most dear, and whereof he is most jealous, I mean his liberty; which torments and contradicts him in everything, is deaf to his remonstrances and desires, never yields to any relaxation, speaks always in a threatening tone, and presents him only with correction. Thus it is not surprising that men should shake off this yoke as soon as ever they can without punishment, and that, giving ear no longer to its troublesome directions, they should give themselves up to follow their natural inclinations, which the law had only restrained without changing or destroying them.

But the case is far otherwise with education. "Tis a mistress that is gentle and engaging, an enemy to violence and constraint, which loves only to act by motives of persuasion, which endeavors to make its instructions relished, by speaking always with reason and truth, and tends only to make virtue more easy by making it more amiable. Its lectures, which begin almost as soon as the child is born, grow up and gather strength with it, in time take deep root, soon pass from the memory and understanding to the heart, are daily imprinted in his manners, by practice and habit become a second nature in him, which is scarce possible to be changed, and do the office of a present legislator all the rest of his life, putting him in mind of his duty upon every occasion, and engaging him to the practice of it. 'Haidevõiç voμulétw διάθεσιν ἀπεργάζεται περὶ ἕκαστον αὐτῶν.

We must not wonder, after this, that the ancients have recommended the education of youth with so much care, and looked upon it as the surest means of making an empire stable and flourishing. It was a capital maxim with them that children are more the property of the republic than of their parents;* and that thus their education should not be given up to their fancies, but be intrusted to the care of the republic; that for this reason children ought to be brought up, not in private and in their fathers' houses, but in public, by common masters, and under the same discipline, that they may be early inspired with a love for their country, respect for its laws and relish for the principles and maxims of the state wherein they are to live. For every kind of government has its peculiar genius. The spirit and character of a republic is very different from that of a monarchy. Now this spirit and character are only to be imbibed by the appropriate education of children.

It is in consequence of the principles I have laid down, that Lycurgus,

Arist. Polit. lib. 8, cap. 1.