not connected with any subject of human grandeur, and we are rather
ashamed of it. Schiller has some wise, but hard words that relate
to it. He perceives the pre-eminence of the Greeks, who could do
many things. He finds that modern men are units of great nations;
but not great units themselves. And there is some room for this
reasoning of his.

Our modern system of division of labour divides wits also. The more
necessity there is, therefore, for funding in recreation something
to expand men's intelligence. There are intellectual pursuits
almost as much divided as pin-making; and many a man goes through
some intellectual process, for the greater part of his working
hours, which corresponds with the making of a pin's head. Must
there not be some danger of a general contraction of mind from this
convergence of attention upon something very small, for so
considerable a portion of a man's life?

What answer can civilisation give to this? It can say that greater
results are worked out by the modern system; that though each man is
doing less himself than he might have done in former days, he sees
greater and better things accomplished; and that his thoughts, not
bound down by his petty occupation, travel over the work of the
human family. There is a great deal, doubtless, in this argument;
but man is not altogether an intellectual recipient. He is a
constructive animal also. It is not the knowledge that you can pour
into him that will satisfy him, or enable him to work out his
nature. He must see things for himself; he must have bodily work
and intellectual work different from his bread-getting work; or he
runs the danger of becoming a contracted pedant with a poor mind and
a sickly body.