nd that there are reasons for warning women
that they are specially prone to this kind of mistake.
The diversity of interests of the average man, the wideness of his
contacts--the whole tradition of his sex--tends to minimise the injury
that may be done to him, intellectually and spiritually, by anything of
this kind. The very fact that he is the woman's inferior spiritually, and
in many cases, in intellect, also--although probably not at the
maximum--relieves him, in great part, of the odium attaching to the error
that has been described. Women are becoming keenly alive to the
deficiencies of their sex-tradition; they are trying to broaden their
intellectual contacts--that is the great modern feminist movement. Some of
those who are active in it are making two mistakes--they are ignoring the
differences between the sexes and they are trying to substitute revolution
for evolution. In this latter error they are in very good company--hardly
one of the great and the good has not made it, at some time and in some
way. Revolution is always the outcome of a mistake. The mistake may be
antecedent and irrevocable, and the revolution therefore necessary, but
this is rarely the case. The revolutionist runs a risk common to all who
are in a hurry--he may break the object of his attention instead of moving
it. When he wants to hand you a dish he hits it with a ball-bat. Taking a
reasonable amount of time is better in the long run.
That there is no royal road to knowledge has long been recognised. The
trouble with most of us is that we have interpreted this to mean that the
acquisition of knowledge must always be a distasteful process. On the
contrary, the vivid interest that is the surest guide to knowledge is also
the surest smoother of the path. Given the interest that lures the student
on, and he will spend years in surmounting rocks and breaking through
thorny jungles, realising their difficulties perhaps, but rejoicing the
more when those difficulties prove no obstacles.
The fact that the first step toward accomplishment is to create an
interest has long been recognised, but attempts have been made too often
to do it by devious ways, unrelated to the matter in hand. Students have
been made to study history or algebra by offering prizes to the diligent
and by threatening the slothful with punishment. More indirect rewards and
punishments abound in all our incitements to effort and need not be
mentioned here. They may often
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