explosions prevented among such a mass of inflammable material? The solution of this seeming riddle was, after all, sufficiently simple. A brief sojourn at a university was the climax of a long course of culture, not the enforced duty of thoughtless and immature youth.
Some account has already been given of the earlier education of the youth of the period. The fundamental training imparted in the schools and academies within easy reach of every home was so thorough, that upon it any superstructure could be raised. Years of effort were not wasted upon the acquisition of the language of a dead and buried civilization, in gaining more or less insight—usually less—into a system of thought, that, upon most matters of vital interest, is soon found, notwithstanding its charm of expression, to be crude to the verge of childishness.
Here each study had a well-defined purpose, as part of a carefully devised system of mental culture, in which the balance was nicely adjusted between the desirable and the attainable. Education was not looked upon as merely the special business of a few years, a task to be hurried over during the period of immature mental development. It was rather regarded as the main business of life, to which all else was merely accessory. All accomplished during childhood and youth was but laying the foundation of a higher culture, by securing the healthy unfolding of the mental faculties, while acquiring the stock of sound elementary knowledge needful as the instrument of further acquisition.
Boys, as we have seen, began at fifteen the study of their special handicraft; at sixteen that of their profes-
