people of his day, for there is a sort of stealing that takes rank
among the fine arts. In fact, stealing is the greatest subject that
is taught in the school. I cannot recall a teacher who did not
encourage me to strive for mastery in this art. Every one of them
applauded my every success in this line. One of my early triumphs
was reciting "Horatius at the Bridge," and my teacher almost
smothered me with praise. I simply took what Macaulay had written
and made it my own. I had some difficulty in making off with the
conjugation of the Greek verb, but the more I took of it the more my
teacher seemed pleased. All along the line I have been encouraged to
appropriate what others have produced and to take joy in my
pilfering. Mr. Carnegie has lent his sanction to this sort of thing
by fostering libraries. Shakespeare was arrested for stealing a
deer, but extolled for stealing the plots of "Romeo and Juliet,"
"Comedy of Errors," and others of his plays. It seems quite all
right to steal ideas, or even thoughts, and this may account again
for the old man's lantern. But, even so, it would seem quite
iconoclastic to say that education is the process of reminding people
of their debts and of training them to steal.




CHAPTER VII

COMPLETE LIVING

In my quiet way I have been making inquiries among my acquaintances
for a long time, trying to find out what education really is. As a
schoolmaster I must try to make it appear that I know. In fact, I am