EDITOR'S TABLE. 



6jy 



" A subtle form, of paternalism 

 is the deliberate inculcation of the 

 patriotic spirit, especially in chil- 

 dren." Mr. Swift is a brave man to 

 attempt to stem this particular tor- 

 rent. He thinks there are times 

 when one who loves his country 

 would feel shame for it rather than 

 pride, and that the motto " My 

 country right or wrong " is not the 

 most wholesome sentiment that can 

 be impressed on the mind of youth. 

 " To fill a child with the consum- 

 mate virtues of Washington, Jeffer- 

 son, and other of our immortals, 

 and to leave him ignorant of the 

 greatness of Cromvrell and of Wil- 

 liam the Silent, is a serious injus- 

 tice to the child and to the cause 

 of education." Not only is this 

 done, but, in the domain of litera- 

 ture as well, it seems as if the only 

 names with which public-school 

 pupils obtain any acquaintance are 

 those of national authors. So far 

 as poetry is concerned, Mr. Swift 

 says that almost the only name he 

 hears from the lips of children 

 frequenting the Public Library is 

 " Longfellow." He can not remem- 

 ber ever having had a call from a 

 child for. Tennyson, while Words- 

 worth in the school region is equally 

 unknown. 



Apart from the studied inculca- 

 tion of a narrow patriotism, the 

 author of the paper we are consid- 

 ering thinks that there is altogether 

 too much paternalism shown in the 

 choice of children's reading. He 

 has only a limited and feeble faith 

 in " children's rooms " in public 

 libraries. They are very much, he 

 thinks, like Sunday schools — con- 

 venient places for parents to unload 

 their offspring. The aim of the cen- 

 sorship is to eliminate everything 

 that is not in accord with the most 

 approved canons of juvenile life 

 and thought, leaving only what is 

 ready for immediate acceptance and 

 assimilation. Such a policy, Mr. 

 Swift holds, is not favorable either 



to individuality or to intellectual 

 growth. "We must," he says, " take 

 books, like life, as we find them, and 

 learn to distinguish good and bad; 

 learn, as we ought, that the good is 

 not so good as we have been told 

 it is, and that the bad Gontains'.-'a' 

 strong infusion of good. No wrecks 

 are so fearful as those which come 

 to the young who have up to a point 

 led ' sheltered lives.' " 



It is not, however, children only 

 who get the benefit of a benevolent 

 protective policy. Selecting com- 

 mittees are quite prepared to look 

 after grown-up people as well, and 

 keep out of their way books which 

 might prove too exciting, which 

 might reveal depths of passion such 

 as persons leading decorous lives 

 are not supposed to know anything 

 about, or otherwise agitate the tran- 

 quil mill pond of their existence. It 

 does not occur to them that thus the 

 salt and savor of human life are ex- 

 pelled, and that, instead of the free 

 play of vital forces, there super- 

 venes a dreaiy mechanic round of 

 semi-automatic activities unvisited 

 by enthusiasm, untouched by strong 

 desire, without dream or vision or 

 any quickening of the heart or the 

 imagination. Some good people 

 are excessively particular not only 

 as to what may threaten moral dis- 

 turbance, but as to anything that 

 may encourage departures from 

 conventional modes of speech and 

 deportment. They do not like to 

 admit books that they regard as vul- 

 gar, and a great mark of vulgarity 

 in their opinion is the use of slang. 

 Yet so accomplished a litterateur as 

 Mr. William Archer told us lately 

 that he pleads guilty to " an unholy 

 relish " for the talk of " Chimmie 

 Fadden " and his Chicago contem- 

 porary " Artie." To him. as to Mr. 

 Swift, the books in which these 

 worthies disport themselves mean 

 sojnething, and something deserv- 

 ing of attention. That being the 

 case, the vulgarity, which is part of 



