self-satisfaction might be disturbed; but there is little fear of such trouble falling upon them. If it were not for smooth cheeks, baptismal registers, and empty talk, we should rarely suspect them of youth. Truly the talk is the fatal snare. Registers we might not consult; cheeks may owe much to art, but the tongue is indeed an unruly member. In manner and conduct, the assurance of a settled position, or the self-assertion of tried character, may be assumed; but the tongue is loosed, and lo! all disguises fall away. Rushing with characteristic audacity into questions of literature and theology, morals and politics, their age stands quickly revealed. Then, according to our mood, we may laugh or weep, as we hear the morning's sermon and last night's partners discussed with the same off-hand ease by a set of young ladies; the heroes of twenty battles criticised by beardless boys, as they settle their neckties before a mirror; grave theological points, for which in former ages men were content to die, settled between the courses by creatures who were learning their catechism last month; political questions and the characters of public men disposed of in a few words by lads whose own experiences being necessarily a blank, have at least taken care to learn no lessons from history; points of conduct, puzzling to those who best know the trials of life, or rumours of foul-mouthed scandal, blasting honour and happiness in a breath, talked over by girls whose untried lives station has kept outwardly pure, even though youth has failed to keep them pure in mind or gentle in feeling.

Want of reverence is one of the common faults of the young in our day. That it should accompany great self-assurance is nothing wonderful, though it is not easy to say which is the cause or the effect of the other; whether the undue growth of self-importance first hides from us the relative proportions of what is out of self, or whether, being first devoid of that noble feeling that pays instinctive homage to

all that is great, we are driven to seek satisfaction in poor and arid admiration of ourselves. This knotty question of precedence in mental infirmity we are fortunately not obliged to decide; enough for us is the fact that in some manner the tendencies of our age have fostered a peculiarity apparently little congenial to youth. For it has been commonly supposed that, left to its natural instinct, the young mind is prone to reverence. Though often rash and presumptuous, youth has generally shown these faults in overcalculating its strength for every great and noble deed that had fed its hero-worship, and fired its enthusiasm. A lofty ideal was present, and the untried courage spurned every worldly obstacle. But the presumption of our fast generation is no such heroic failing. It is not born of overweening hope in future achievement, but of overweening satisfaction in actual achievement. It says not Wait and see what we can do!' but, 'Look and behold what we have done! how deep we are in the world's lore! how free from foolish prejudices! how far above ancient objects of veneration!' Those who enjoy this consciousness of inward strength naturally look not, as the inexperienced of former ages looked, for advice and encouragement from some whom they respected or revered; but on the other hand, they are willing enough to bestow it; thus their elders are saved a world of trouble; may have guidance if they will accept it, dismissing that old-fashioned hobbling guide called experience. It is time they should acknowledge that in place of one Minerva, whom Athens was proud of, we have a whole generation born ready armed for every conflict; whose swaddlingclothes are a panoply of wisdom. No wonder that they go their way rejoicing. They know everything except their own ignorance and the few things that may chance to hide, and divine everything except the feelings which these peculiarities of theirs are apt to excite in differently constituted minds. Nor, as we said above, are they chary of their superior wisdom, but willingly im

part it; the misfortune is that the terms in which it is expressed are not always clear to the uninitiated, to the decrepit understandings whose culture was mostly effected while slang was denied the privilege of decent society; so that a new dictionary must needs be compiled before the sagacity of the fast school can be usefully digested into a new proverbial philosophy for common use and guidance.

Nil admirari is almost necessarily the motto of such a school. It has been at all times the resource of fools aping wisdom; but now we believe it is not a mere affectation, but a sadly-genuine state of feeling. Various causes have combined to wither the poetic element in the young mind, and with it naturally decays the faculty of admiration, the source of some of our truest enjoyments and most elevating emotions. The youngest can rarely be content now to see, and feel, and enjoy; they must also, or rather first, judge, compare, and criticisea process all the more rapid the fewer the grounds possessed for comparison and judgment. Many would seem to have been born old, so completely has the gloss of life worn off before the fulness of life has been even tasted. They come from country homes, and London seems quite commonplace to them. They go to the theatre for the first time, and are perfectly composed; for ever à la hauteur des circonstances, they criticise the arrangements, the acting, the getting up, and the audience with the aplomb of an habitué. They go abroad, and no contrast seems to prompt an inquiry, or awaken an emotion of surprise. They see the grandeur of nature, or the marvels of art, or the triumphs of science, and they may approve, but not wonder; they may express a judgment, but not ask a question; they may be satisfied, and gratify science or nature by saying so, but not be wrought into that state in which fuller minds feel overwhelmed by the presence of the sublime, and yield themselves with a sense of fuller life to the emotion which finds no utterance. Never, perhaps, were such

varied excitements presented to eye and ear as in the present day; but it would seem that, in the absence of the pure and simple spirit of enjoyment, the excitement itself is the sole object. It is not the music, or the scenery, or the riding which is the attraction, but the party with whom these pleasures are to be enjoyed, and the dinner or the dress involved, according as it is a male or female imagination that dwells upon the prospect. It follows that there is little medium between excitement and ennui; and that the latter quickly resumes its sway till some new thing awakens a moment's curiosity, or promises some fresh stimulus. This love of excitement explains why, in the midst of the prevailing apathy, there exists an insatiable craving for what they are pleased to call fun. Strange enough are some of the things which go under that name. Outré dress, outré language, outré manners, and outré flirting all come under this head. Even in the female use of the term it often includes slang, smoking, and a somewhat questionable love of adventure; while used by the nobler sex, it would be hard to limit its signification; since ranging through every puerile amusement, it has been seen also to embrace that rare delight in other men's peril, which inspired certain chroniclers of Indian horrors and certain amateur camp-followers of Garibaldi-voluntary witnesses of a nation's struggle for life or death, who rode out to a battle-field to get an appetite for breakfast, and made merry over the squalid equipments of an army of heroes.

Such are some of the frantic efforts made to escape from ennui, that familiar demon of cold imaginations and vacant minds. It seems superfluous, after these things, to speak of bad manners, since nothing else could reasonably be expected; but they claim attention as indications that those points of feeling of which good manners were the supposed expression are no longer held to be so essential as to be assumed where they do not exist. When once the outward semblance of chivalrous feelings ceases to be the

traditionary costume of the gentleman, those only will have good manners who truly cherish those feelings.

When, a few years ago, for instance, at a great ball, where all that was highest in London society was assembled, the gentlemen sat down to supper, while ladies were standing in great numbers around, one can only suppose habits of selfindulgence so strong, and public opinion on such matters so low, as to overcome the most rooted traditions of manly courtesy. When these things are done by many, they do not reflect upon the individuals merely, but they point to wide changes of opinions and associations, and those who by education or influence hope to remedy the evil must look to the deeper causes. Manners to women present some curious points for observation. That those of the gentler sex who take up the low-minded tone of the fast school should lose their gentle privilege, and be treated cavalierly by men, is not amazing.

That

they should be spoken to without deference, and be spoken of in terms which, if not creditable to the speakers, might at least rouse the most unwomanly to shame, this we cannot wonder at. But there is with regard to far different women a curious contradiction in the treatment they receive from men. Never certainly was there a period when woman's rational claims to consideration and to free action, her general rights as a human being were so recognized by society. The change of tone upon these subjects in the last fiveand-twenty years is most remarkable; but the general want of courtesy and deference, the indifference to their society, are marked also. We can only suppose that the former change is owing to the better sense of justice which the gradual spread of liberal opinions has created, while the latter is due to the selfish love of ease which is so prevalent among us. Well-bred manners, including deference and attention to women and to superiors, whether in age or station, are too great a restraint, and so are cast aside. Every additional habit of

self-indulgence so religiously cultivated in children at present, will of course tend to make the restraint more irksome, and so far tend to make manners worse, making club life seem preferable to drawingroom life, and inducing women to throw down, more and more, the barriers of refinement which divide the two. How far they may go in the sacrifice of all that has poetised woman's existence, and thrown a spell of refinement over man's, before they succeed in establishing their sway over a race of apathetic sensualists, is a point we are fortunately not bound to inquire into.

Allied to early selfishness is the belief that selfishness governs the world, that each being necessarily engrossed with the care of Number One, each must stand on the defensive against others. Thus distrust, the canker of age, comes to wither the feelings of youth. It is the blight of autumn falling upon the opening buds of spring. The selfish system, eminently one-sided as an explanation of social phenomena, is essentially false as a key to individual character and action; but no doubt the high favour it has found as a philosophical doctrine has tended to foster the growth of selfishness in individuals, and to procure toleration for it in society, just as the progress of democratic opinions has tended to encourage the spirit of rebellion even against authority which the most ardent among rational lovers of freedom would hold sacred. This selfishness and conviction of the constant action of selfish motives are what in great measure make up the worldly spirit which is so common, and held in such high repute that to be ignorant of the world seems a disgrace at eighteen. That this spirit is owing to general causes, and is in some degree impregnating the whole moral atmosphere, is seen in the fact that young people brought up in remote country places are often as strongly embued with it as if educated at Eton. The Etonian would doubtless look down with great contempt on the worldly knowledge of the country-bred lad; but the latter is not the less puffed up with his

own confidence of being above aný ignorant trust in his fellow-creatures. He comes out of his father's parsonage equally certain of being one of the knowing ones, equally proud of not being simple-minded or fresh-hearted, in a word, in not being young; free from the best attributes by which youth wins the heart, even when it most fails to satisfy the judgment. And the country-bred girl vies with her brother in distrust of generous motives, in dread of being supposed ignorant of what it would be well she should ignore for ever, and in worldly lore, including the most intimate knowledge of the Peerage and the Morning Post, and a singular degree of acquaintance with certain phases of society which their mothers still blush to allude to. It was recorded long ago of a boy, as a solitary instance of precocious worldliness, that he put his pocketmoney out to interest among his schoolfellows, and in the antiquated state of feeling then prevalent, the story excited disgust. But now, should such a custom become prevalent, let no one be surprised; not because love of money has increased, but because the lads of this age of progress may be expected to take every means of showing that they are above the humbug of generous sentiment. Simply to lend or give to a friend must appear an act of ignorant infatuation to these greyhearted boys.

Let us, however, be thankful that those in whom precocious worldliness has blunted moral sensibility, together with blasé youths and fast young ladies, are after all the small number. Woe indeed to the nation if the young of the educated classes were in the majority such as these! But the want of reverence, the selfassurance, the affectation of worldly knowledge, the confident tone, bordering on, if not always amounting to, arrogance, these are so general that it is curious to inquire whence they arise. We see them, not merely in the triflers we have been speaking of, but quite as conspicuously in the young politicians and social reformers who are in real earnest setting the world to rights, and in

the girls who, indifferent to pleasure, devote a laborious life to schools and district visiting. Whence then do the evils originate?

Such faults are shown too early to be fairly charged upon the young themselves. The age at which they are rife is one which is, or ought to be, under control; and in these days of stir and clamour about education, it would ill become us so to ignore its power as to exonerate those from blame who should have wielded that power for good, and have let it work for evil. It is sad, but there is no denying the fact, part of the mischief we complain of is owing to the increased education of the present day; or rather, let us say, to the increased teaching. Precocious worldliness and self-assurance are the natural fruits of an education which teaches much and inspires nothing; in which the eyes and understanding have been opened to see and learn many things, while the heart has not been opened to genial influences, nor the imagination to lofty thoughts; in which the dry dust of books has choked up the brain, while the power, the poetry of knowledge, and of beliefs that transcend knowledge, have never stirred the soul.

A higher standard of acquirement has been set up in obedience to the necessities of modern life. More knowledge is required now than formerly in the great race of competition, and it must be given at an early age, and fitted for all capacities. Money considerations require this, and their sway is not disputed. But educators have not remembered that in order to make this increased information available for real mental

improvement to the individual, higher views and better trained judgment would also be required; that a well-balanced mental culture is that which alone deserves the name of education, not that cramming of the memory which carries a boy through an examination, but leaves thought and reason as feeble as before. It is a melancholy fact that so many years' talking and writing about education should result in the sacrifice of much that is best both in moral and intellectual discipline,

leaving the recipient of so much information puffed up with his acquirements, arrogant and selfish towards others. Yet so it too commonly is. Intellectual discipline being essentially different from the mere process of storing the memory is, we maintain, abandoned in exact proportion to the demands made by the necessities for early professional training. The culture of the highest faculties, judgment, thought, imagination, are made quite subordinate to the cramming of facts for a specific purpose; which purpose being attained, unless some further practical object keeps them present, the facts themselves are quickly swept away, and the mind remains dormant as before.

Moral discipline, on the other hand, which at all times is a home influence, is enfeebled by the relaxation of parental rule. It is true that more care is taken than formerly not to ruffle the temper, not to provoke deceit by severity, and that more efforts are made to make the young life happy; so far all is good, but it is not enough. We are not advocates for the ancient notions of parental authority; on the contrary, we believe that in many cases they involved absolutely perverted views of moral obligation, but this applies rather to a later period of life. The error of former days was rather in absurdly prolonging the period of submission than in exacting it too rigidly in childhood and early youth. Nor does it follow, because despotism is a bad thing, that anarchy is better; we contend rather that despotism, tempered by parental love, is a far less evil than abandoning the rein to youthful caprice, and exacting neither obedience nor outward respect. Strong moral influence may certainly be maintained without the assertion of authority, and reverence may live in the heart while the forms of deference are neglected; but these cases will ever be rare, for they imply truly fine natures in both parent and child. The common result of the abdication of authority and claim to outward respect will be loss of real deference and reverence, and, consequently, wayward action and an

arrogant tone in the young. There is a strange notion prevalent among many who shrink from the austere maxims of former days, that a child's judgment should always be appealed to, and that the parents' wishes should be followed because they are seen to be reasonable. But besides the fallacy of supposing that a child can always, or often, perceive this, the moral discipline of obedience is thus abandoned. It is forgotten that principally by early obedience is formed the habit of submitting to the claims of duty, of reverencing the voice of superior wisdom, however opposed to passion or inclination. The subject on which authority should be exercised, the point where it ought to cease, are among the most difficult problems of education; but we repeat, for we earnestly believe it, that a somewhat too rigid rule is less mischievous to the moral nature of the young than the absence of discipline; and that even in matters of opinion, the habit of taking much upon trust as inculcated by an authority justly revered, is scarcely more enfeebling to the intellect, and far less injurious to the moral tone, than the habit in the young of giving the name of opinion to every crude notion of their own, and looking with no reverence to aught greater or wiser than themselves. There is too much reason to fear that those who begin as children by questioning all that falls from a parent's lips, will grow up to reverence nothing, often to believe in nothing. And let it be remembered that such a state of mind in youth is not the candid scepticism of an inquiring spirit ever renewing the search in which it has been so often baffled; it is not the unbelief slowly wrought into certain minds by the progress of knowledge, and which, accepted after many a weary struggle, saddens every heart where it has forced admittance; no, when such a tone prevails in youth, it denotes the dry condition of a mind for whom there is no poetry, no grandeur in the universe; that disbelieves in high and noble things because no echo within attests their reality.

But we are not writing a treatise