They turn on the Christian religion and the religious phenomena of Christian life-altogether sketched out in the most airy, graceful, delicately-wise kind of way, so as to keep himself out of the common controversies of the street and of the forum, yet to indicate what was the result of things he had been long meditating upon. Among others, he introduces, in an aërial, flighty kind of way, here and there a touch which grows into a beautiful picture a scheme of entirely mute education, at least with no more speech than is absolutely necessary for what they have to do.

Three of the wisest men that can be got are met to consider what is the function which transcends all others in importance to build up the young generation, which shall be free from all that perilous stuff that has been weighing us down and clogging every step, and which is the only thing we can hope to go on with if we would leave the world a little better, and not the worse of our having been in it, for those who are to follow. The man who is the eldest of the three says to Goethe, "You give by nature to the well-formed children you bring into the world a great many precious gifts, and very frequently these are best of all developed by nature herself, with a very slight assistance where assistance is seen to be wise and profitable, and forbearance very often on the part of the overlooker of the process of education; but there is one thing that no child brings into the world with it, and without which all other things are of no use." Wilhelm, who is there beside him, says, "What is that?" "All who enter the world want it," says the eldest; "perhaps you yourself." Wilhelm says, "Well, tell me what it is."

"It is," says the eldest, "reverence - Ehrfurcht-Reverence! Honor done to those who are grander and better than you, without fear; distinct from fear." Ehrfurcht"the soul of all religion that ever has been among men, or ever will be." And he goes into practicality. He practically distinguishes the kinds of religion that are in the world, and he makes out three reverences. The boys are all trained to go through certain gesticulations, to lay their hands on their breast and look up to heaven, and they give their three reverences. The first and simplest is that of reverence for what is above us. It is the soul of all the Pagan religions; there is nothing better in man than that. Then there is reverence for what is around us or about us

reverence for our equals, and to which he attributes an immense power in the culture of man. The third is reverence for what is beneath us to learn to recognize in pain, sorrow, and contradiction, even in those things, odious as they are to flesh and blood-to learn that there lies in this a priceless blessing. And he defines that as being the soul of the Christian religion the highest of all religions; a height, as Goethe says -and that is very true, even to the letter, as I consider -a height to which the human species was fated and enabled to attain, and from which, having once attained it, it can never retrograde. It cannot descend down below that permanently, Goethe's idea is.

Often one thinks it was good to have a faith of that kind - that always, even in the most degraded, sunken, and unbelieving times, he calculates there will be found some few souls who will recognize what that meant; and that the world, having once received it, there is no fear of its retrograding. He goes on then to tell us the way in which they seek to teach boys, in the sciences particularly, whatever the boy is fit for. Wilhelm left his own boy there, expecting they would make him a Master of Arts, or something of that kind; and when he came back for him he saw a thundering cloud of dust coming over the plain, of which he could make nothing. It turned out to be a tempest of wild horses, managed by young lads who had a turn for hunting with their grooms. His own son was among them, and he found that the breaking of colts was the thing he was most suited for. This is what Goethe calls Art, which I should not make clear to you by any definition unless it is clear already. I would not attempt to define it as music, painting, and poetry, and so on; it is in quite a higher sense than the common one, and in which, I am afraid most of our painters, poets, and music men would not pass muster. He considers that the highest pitch to which human culture can go; and he watches with great industry how it is to be brought about with men who have a turn for it.

Very wise and beautiful it is. It gives one an idea that something greatly better is possible for man in the world. 1 confess it seems to me it is a shadow of what will come, unless the world is to come to a conclusion that is perfectly frightful; some kind of scheme of education like that, presided over by the wisest and most sacred men that can be got in the world, and watching from a distance-a training in practicality at

every turn; no speech in it except speech that is to be followed by action, for that ought to be the rule as nearly as possible among them. For rarely should men speak at all unless it is to say that thing that is to be done; and let him go and do his part in it, and say no more about it. I should say there is nothing in the world you can conceive so difficult, primâ facie, as that of getting a set of men gathered together— rough, rude, and ignorant people-gather them together, promise them a shilling a day, rank them up, give them very severe and sharp drill, and by bullying and drill-for the word "drill" seems as if it meant the treatment that would force them to learn they learn what it is necessary to learn; and there is the man, a piece of an animated machine, a wonder of wonders to look at. He will go and obey one man, and walk into the cannon's mouth for him, and do anything whatever that is commanded of him by his general officer. And I believe all manner of things in this way could be done if there were anything like the same attention bestowed. Very many things could be regimented and organized into the mute system of education that Goethe evidently adumbrates there. But I believe, when people look into it, it will be found that they will not be very long in trying to make some efforts in that direction; for the saving of human labor, and the avoidance of human misery, would be unaccountable if it were set about and begun even in part.

FROM "TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS."

BY THOMAS HUGHES.

[THOMAS HUGHES, English judge and man of letters, was born in Berkshire, October 20, 1823. He was educated at Rugby under Dr. Arnold, - his one famous book, "Tom Brown's School Days," idealizes this experience, and at Oriel College, Oxford. He has been active in movements for social reform, and helped to found a coöperative colony in Tennessee. His other books include "Tom Brown at Oxford," "A Layman's Faith," and "Our Old Church: What shall We do with It?"]

TOM BROWN'S FIRST FIGHT.

THERE is a certain sort of fellow we who are used to studying boys all know him well enough of whom you can predicate with almost positive certainty, after he has been

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