the imagination. The value of the Hindoo or the
Greek myth, of the Roman story, of the mediaeval legend, of the heroic
epic, of the lyric poem, of the classic biography, of any genuine piece
of literature, ancient or modern, is not in the knowledge of it as we may
know the rules of grammar and arithmetic or the formulas of a science,
but in the enlargement of the mind to a conception of the life and
development of the race, to a study of the motives of human action, to a
comprehension of history; so that the mind is not simply enriched, but
becomes discriminating, and able to estimate the value of events and
opinions. This office for the mind acquaintance with literature can alone
perform. So that, in school, literature is not only, as I have said, the
easiest open door to all else desirable, the best literature is not only
the best means of awakening the young mind, the stimulus most congenial,
but it is the best foundation for broad and generous culture. Indeed,
without its co-ordinating influence the education of the common school is
a thing of shreds and patches. Besides, the mind aroused to historic
consciousness, kindled in itself by the best that has been said and done
in all ages, is more apt in the pursuit, intelligently, of any specialty;
so that the shortest road to the practical education so much insisted on
in these days begins in the awakening of the faculties in the manner
described. There is no doubt of the value of manual training as an aid in
giving definiteness, directness, exactness to the mind, but mere
technical training alone will be barren of those results, in general
discriminating culture, which we hope to see in America.

The common school is a machine of incalculable value. It is not, however,
automatic. If it is a mere machine, it will do little more to lift the
nation than the mere ability to read will lift it. It can easily be made
to inculcate a taste for good literature; it can be a powerful influence
in teaching the American people what to read; and upon a broadened,
elevated, discriminating public taste depends the fate of American art,
of American fiction.

It is not an inappropriate corollary to be drawn from this that an
elevated public taste will bring about a truer estimate of the value of a
genuine literary product. An invention which increases or cheapens the
conveniences or comforts of life may be a fortune to its originator. A
book which amuses, or consoles, or inspires; whic