76 On the Campus 



And yet men say that only that education is practical 

 which teaches a boy to compute interest, to manage a 

 steam-engine or a linotype machine, to build a barn for 

 the Jersey cow, or a palace for her owner. 



The story is told of a young man and his wife, who 

 stood on a tower in Florence. They looked on the valley 

 of the Arno. They were Americans ; possibly from Iowa. 

 They saw never such a view: mountain and plain and 

 river, and fertile field, garden and orchard, forest and 

 city and palace: 



"Here, snatching up a bit of coal, 

 A young creator flung a soul 

 Into a sketch upon the wall 

 Where still you see the vital scrawl: 

 It was four centuries ago, 

 The boy 's name, Michel Angelo. 



Caiano, where for solace went 

 Lorenzo, the Magnificent; 

 Careggi, where he turned aside 

 From the Dominican, and died; 

 Arcetri, whence the unblinded eyes 

 Of Galileo swept the skies. 



Of Vallombrosa, 'Etrurian shades 

 High over-arched,' whence Milton took 

 That image of the leaf-strown brook" 1 



they even caught a glimpse. They saw all this. They 

 had all that wealth could furnish ; but they looked into 

 each other's eyes and said, "How fine it would be if we 

 only knew anything!" They knew many things, but 



i From a poem, La Capponcina, an Epistle to Friends, by Mel- 

 ville B. Anderson, privately printed, Christmas, 1912. 



