g in the sayings
of the past more meaning than the simple past ever dreamed of putting
there. He becomes more Confucian than Confucius. Indeed, it is fortunate
for the reputation of the sage that he cannot return to earth, for he
might disagree to his detriment with his own commentators.

Such is the state of things in China and Korea. Learning, however,
is not dependent solely on individual interest for its wonderfully
flourishing condition in the Middle Kingdom, for the government abets
the practice to its utmost. It is itself the supreme sanction, for its
posts are the prizes of proficiency. Through the study of the classics
lies the only entrance to political power. To become a mandarin one must
have passed a series of competitive examinations on these very subjects,
and competition in this impersonal field is most keen. For while popular
enthusiasm for philosophy for philosophy's sake might, among any people,
eventually show symptoms of fatigue, it is not likely to flag where the
outcome of it is so substantial. Erudition carries there all earthly
emoluments in its train. For the man who can write the most scholastic
essay on the classics is forthwith permitted to amass much honor and
more wealth by wronging his less accomplished fellow-citizens. China
is a student's paradise where the possession of learning is instantly
convertible into unlimited pelf.

In Japan the study of the classics was never pursued professionally.
It was, however, prosecuted with much zeal en amateur. The Chinese
bureaucratic system has been wanting. For in spite of her students,
until within thirty years Japan slumbered still in the Knight-time of
the Middle Ages, and so long as a man carried about with him continually
two beautiful swords he felt it incumbent upon him to use them. The
happy days of knight-errantry have passed. These same cavaliers
of Samurai are now thankful to police the streets in spectacles
necessitated by the too diligent study of German text, and arrest chance
disturbers of the public peace for a miserably small salary per month.

Our youth has now reached the flowering season of life, that brief
May time when the whole world takes on the rose-tint, and when by all
dramatic laws he ought to fall in love. He does nothing of the kind.
Sad to say, he is a stranger to the feeling. Love, as we understand the
word, is a thing unknown to the Far East; fortunately, indeed, for the
possession there of the tender passion wou