As to his human figures, I question whether Daudet has ever had his equal in the picturesque truthfulness of his portraits, in the capacity of reproducing the expression of a face, an attitude or dress. And it does not follow that, as certain “psychological” writers have hinted, Daudet was deficient in “psychology.” We cannot find in him that cold, pedantic psychology which consists of the authors’s own reflections; and if, to be a “psychologist,” it is necessary to explain minutely every step and every gesture, or to put wearisome commentaries in the place of action, Daudet does not deserve the name. But perhaps there is a distinction to be made between a novel and an anatomical treatise.—From PETIT DE JULLEVILLE, Hist. de la litt. fr. vol. viii.
IX
The founders and arbiters of the public-school system who ordained that life in these institutions should be one incessant round of activity from the beginning of term to its end have perhaps proved to be the children of wisdom. To a healthy boy who can manage to keep his place in the crowd without undue straining, there is a tonic effect in the absence of leisure; and the sense of being a lively part in a great and ever-moving body is an admirable enemy to stagnation of mind. It is only the special case, the variant from the type, who suffers when he is included in masses that move by rule; and if we are inclined to admit the dangerous premise that any suffering can be good for a young soul, we may cheerfully conclude that the rough process is justified if it turns the variant into a solid, ordinary person; or, if he is a hopeless rebel, at least teaches him that the thorns of life are not tender to him who kicks.—From The First Round, by ST. JOHN LUCAS.
X
Much of the influence he gained over his scholars was attributable to his knowledge of the individual characteristics of boys. He is said to have known every boy in the school, his appearance, his habits, and his companions. It cannot be said that he was always genial in manner; the youngest boys especially regarded him with awe, and his own sense of the intense seriousness of life and duty gave a sternness and austerity to his aspect which made many of his pupils afraid of him. His conception of a school was that it should be first of all a place for the formation of character, and next a place for learning and study, as a means for the attainment of this higher end. Discipline and guidance were in his view still more prominently the business of a schoolmaster than the impartation of knowledge. His influence was stimulative rather than formative, the secret of his power consisting not so much in the novelty of his ideas or methods as in his commanding and magnetic ersonality.—From Thomas Arnold, by SIR JOSHUA FITCH.
XI
He was contented, in a dull kind of way, with the even monotony of his days. Life at school, he felt, would be always the same; he would attain no distinctions, but at least he would suffer no violent agonies. If you could not be brilliant and wonderful it was as well to be completely insignificant. Defiant eccentricity led to much discomfort, unless you possessed invincible contempt for ordinary popularity; and the way of the harmless imbecile was hard at a public school. When you were at school all the old standards did seem to alter most strangely. After all, why bother about standards? Why think at all? School was really pleasanter when you did not think but just drifted. Yet, could a place where it was better not to think except about everyday events be really right? All boys were either beasts or worms or geese. The geese were most numerous, and usually followed and applauded the beasts. Oh monstrous, stale, unprofitable world!—From The First Round, by ST. JOHN LUCAS.
XII
At present those who pursue philosophy at all are mere striplings just emerged from boyhood, who take it up in the intervals of business; and, after just dipping into the most abstruse part of the study, abandon the pursuit altogether.
And pray what is the right plan?