will lead them no further
than an uncoloured and nerveless cosmopolitanism.

What the young need to have taught to them in this too little
cultivated region, is that they are born not mere atoms floating
independent and apart for a season through a terraqueous medium, and
sucking up as much more than their share of nourishment as they can
seize; nor citizens of the world with no more definite duty than to
keep their feelings towards all their fellows in a steady simmer of
bland complacency; but soldiers in a host, citizens of a polity whose
boundaries are not set down in maps, members of a church the
handwriting of whose ordinances is not in the hieroglyphs of idle
mystery, nor its hope and recompense in the lands beyond death. They
need to be taught that they owe a share of their energies to the great
struggle which is in ceaseless progress in all societies in an endless
variety of forms, between new truth and old prejudice, between love of
self or class and solicitous passion for justice, between the
obstructive indolence and inertia of the many and the generous mental
activity of the few. This is the sphere and definition of the social
conscience. The good causes of enlightenment and justice in all
lands,--here is the church militant in which we should early seek to
enrol the young, and the true state to which they should be taught
that they owe the duties of active and arduous citizenship. These are
the struggles with which the modern instructor should associate those
virtues of fortitude, tenacity, silent patience, outspoken energy,
readiness to assert ourselves and readiness to efface ourselves,
willingness to suffer and resolution to inflict suffering, which men
of old knew how to show for their gods or their sovereign. But the
ideal of Emilius was an ideal of quietism; to possess his own soul in
patience, with a suppressed intelligence, a suppressed sociality,
without a single spark of generous emulation in the courses of
strong-fibred virtue, or a single thrill of heroical pursuit after so
much as one great forlorn cause.

"If it once comes to him, in reading these parallels of the famous
ancients, to desire to be another rather than himself, were this other
Socrates, were he Cato, you have missed the mark; he who begins to
make himself a stranger to himself, is not long before he forgets
himself altogether."[311] But if a man only nurses the conception of
his own personality, for the sake of keeping his own