dle, if not earlier. The great German dramatic critic, Schlegel,
once sneered at the brothers Jacob and William Grimm, for what he
styled their "meditation on the insignificant." These two brothers,
says a wiser student, an historian of German literature, were animated
by a "pathetic optimism, and possessed that sober imagination which
delights in small things and narrow interests, lingering over them
with strong affection." They explored villages and hamlets for obscure
legends and folk tales, for nursery songs, even; and bringing to bear
on such things at once a human affection and a wise scholarship, their
meditation on the insignificant became the basis of their scientific
greatness and the source of their popularity. Every child has read
some of Grimm's household tales, "The Frog Prince," "Hans in Luck,"
or the "Two Brothers;" but comparatively few people realize, perhaps,
that this collection of stories is the foundation of the modern
science of folk-lore, and a by-play in researches of philology and
history which place the name of Grimm among the benefactors of our
race. I refer to these brothers because they expressed one of the
leading theories of the new education.

"My principle," said Jacob Grimm, "has been to undervalue nothing,
but to utilize the small for the illustration of the great." When
Friedrich Froebel, the founder of the kindergarten, in the course of
his researches began to watch the plays of children and to study their
unconscious actions, his "meditation on the insignificant" became
the basis of scientific greatness, and of an influence still in its
infancy, but destined, perhaps, to revolutionize the whole educational
method of society.

It was while he was looking on with delight at the plays of little
children, their happy, busy plans and make-believes, their intense
interest in outward nature, and in putting things together or taking
them apart, that Froebel said to himself: "What if we could give the
child that which is called education through his voluntary activities,
and have him always as eager as he is at play?"

How well I remember, years ago, the first time I ever joined in a
kindergarten game. I was beckoned to the charming circle, and not only
one, but a dozen openings were made for me, and immediately, though I
was a stranger, a little hand on either side was put into mine, with
such friendly, trusting pressure that I felt quite at home. Then we
began to sing of the spring-tim