ed
incapable of increase by any laws of thermo-dynamics. An inexhaustible
treasure is freely open to all who have passed through a good course
of mental training, a treasure which we can make our own according to
our capacities, and our share of which we would not barter for any
goods which the law of the land can give or take away. "The
intelligent man," says Plato, "will prize those studies which result
in his soul getting soberness, righteousness and wisdom, and will less
value the others." The studies which have this effect are those which
teach us to admire and understand the good, the true and the
beautiful. They are, may we not say, humanism and science, pursued in
a spirit of "admiration, hope and love." The trained reason is
disinterested and fearless. It is not afraid of public opinion,
because it "counts it a small thing that it should be judged by man's
judgment"; its interests are so much wider than the incidents of a
private career that base self-centred indulgence and selfish ambition
are impossible to it. It is saved from pettiness, from ignorance, and
from bigotry. It will not fall a victim to those undisciplined and
disproportioned enthusiasms which we call fads, and which are a
peculiar feature of English and North American civilisation. Such
reforms as are carried out in this country are usually effected not by
the reason of the many, but by the fanaticism of the few. A just
balance may on the whole be preserved, but there is not much balance
in the judgments of individuals.

Matthew Arnold, whose exhortations to his countrymen now seem almost
prophetic, drew a strong contrast between the intellectual frivolity,
or rather insensibility, of his countrymen and the earnestness of the
Germans. He saw that England was saved a hundred years ago by the high
spirit and proud resolution of a real aristocracy, which nevertheless
was, like all aristocracies, "destitute of ideas." Our great families,
he shows, could no longer save us, even if they had retained their
influence, because power is now conferred by disciplined knowledge and
applied science. It is the same warning which George Meredith
reiterated with increasing earnestness in his late poems. What England
needs, he says, is "brain."

Warn her, Bard, that Power is pressing
Hotly for his dues this hour,
Tell her that no drunken blessing
Stops the onward march of Power,
Has she ears to take forewarnings,
She will cleanse her of her