the cleverest writer of to-day. Look back at the quotations on page 90 f.; have the discovery of the Antipodes or the advances of science antiquated them?

Sir H. Johnston's fallacy springs from the idea that education is acquisition of knowledge; and no one has more concisely stated the objection to this than a Greek thinker of the sixth century B.C. πολυμαθία νόον οὐ διδάσκει, said Heraclitus, 66 masses of knowledge do not instruct a mind." If the sole object of education was to impart facts, then a modern text-book on morals might be more useful than Aristotle, though its moral teaching would probably be feebler, and though it might possibly contain more cardinal errors. But, while education must impart the knowledge necessary for the conduct of life, its prime end is not woλvualía but the development of vous, the training of an inquisitive, acute, industrious, patient, truth-loving mind, which knows what facts are essential and what are unimportant, when a thing is proved, and when it is not. When this has been done, we have something which knows how to collect facts, and when collected, how to use them. Without it we are like men who try to carpenter before they have

got tools. It is not developed by studying textbooks, but by living with the great men who have had a portion of this spirit, and who inspire it. It is the prophet's mantle, which only the prophet can bestow. In education, as in life, the deepest impressions are made on us by contact with great personalities.

Anyone who looks back on his school-days, recalls a long succession of teachers. Some were full of knowledge, some were able to impart it; some were neither. But few really influenced us, and those, most people would say, were the men with personality. We remember them, for they gave us not knowledge, but something rarer, more fertile, more unforgettable—a way of looking at life. If we could have our education over again, we should ignore the others and go back to them, for they are the real educators. Facts we can pick up for ourselves, but an outlook on life, a spirit in which to interpret and face it, cannot be had from manuals, but only from living personalities or from books into which such personalities have passed. That is why, as any teacher knows, it is far more profitable for a student, say of philosophy, to read, for instance, Kant, with all Kant's obscurity, errors, and preposterous language, than to read a modern

book on him, which has eliminated the errors, and purified the language, but in which the personal touch of the master is no longer felt. In the one case he has met and known a genius, in the other he has not. That is why the Greeks maintain a hold on education. With a clearness of thought and expression, very foreign to Kant, they offer us many things-unsurpassed achievements in art and literature, the example of a rich, complete life, the spectacle of reason incarnate, reason in religion, politics, philosophy, history, letters, life. They knew less than we, but they had more of the spirit which begets knowledge; otherwise they could not have brought, as they did, light out of dark

ness.

And what is equally important, they present knowledge not as a dull necessity, but as an ideal, beautiful, imaginative, passionate quest. If we want vous rather than roλvμalía, where shall we find it purer than in them?

Let us evoke the most famous of them; for in popular thought Socrates is generally so regarded; and certainly to know nothing of him is to ignore a man who is in the world of thought almost what Christ is in the world of religion. The scene is a market-place, and an elderly man is the centre of

are tied up by the 'tie of the cause,'"

The tie of

the cause, that is the piece of string with which Science still walks the world and turns opinions into knowledge, connecting isolated phenomena by discovering their cause. And they were equally interested in themselves. ἐδιζησάμην ἐμαυτόν, said Heraclitus, 'I inquired into myself,' and the phrase opens up the endless branching avenues of philosophy. They had indeed a nobler and wider conception of philosophy than we, with whom philosophy-the love of wisdom,' and science—' knowledge,' disown their names and are each consigned to a single province of their true kingdom and made jealous members of a loose federation. When they spoke of philosophy they had in their mind the whole range of knowledge from the knowledge of God to that of nature, for they saw the universe as a whole, and regarding it all as the kingdom of man, rejected the narrow specialism of our philosophers and scientists, each shut, like an anchorite, in his small, private cell. Listen to Aristotle on physical science; men of science might take the words as a motto, for never has the study of nature been more nobly praised or more widely conceived. 1 Id. Meno, 98.

"Doubtless," he says, "the glory of the heavenly bodies fills us with more delight than we get from the contemplation of these lowly things (i.e. the facts of zoology); for the sun and stars are born not, neither do they decay, but are eternal and divine. But the heavens are high and afar off, and of celestial things the knowledge that our senses give us is scanty and dim. On the other hand, the living creatures are nigh at hand, and of each and all of them we may gain ample and certain knowledge if we so desire. If a statue please us, shall not the living fill us with delight, all the more if in the spirit of philosophy we search for causes and recognise the evidences of design. Then will Nature's purpose and her deep-seated laws be everywhere revealed, all tending in her multitudinous work to one form or another of the Beautiful." 1

The spirit revealed by these quotations is not common even with us. It looks at life unblinded by pre-conceptions, by sentiment, by regard for what other people think, have thought, or will think. Now turn from its isolated utterances to

1 De Part. Animalium, i. 5. The translation is taken from Prof. D'A. Thompson's delightful Herbert Spencer lecture on "Aristotle as a Biologist."