to get a living than to live mentally and morally.  This tendency is no way balanced by the slight literary culture common here, which is mostly English, and consists in a careless reading of publications of the day, having the same utilitarian tendency with our own proceedings.  The infrequency of acquaintance with any of the great fathers of English lore marks this state of things.

’New England is now old enough,—­some there have leisure enough,—­to look at all this; and the consequence is a violent reaction, in a small minority, against a mode of culture that rears such fruits.  They see that political freedom does not necessarily produce liberality of mind, nor freedom in church institutions—­vital religion; and, seeing that these changes cannot be wrought from without inwards, they are trying to quicken the soul, that they may work from within outwards.  Disgusted with the vulgarity of a commercial aristocracy, they become radicals; disgusted with the materialistic working of “rational” religion, they become mystics.  They quarrel with all that is, because it is not spiritual enough.  They would, perhaps, be patient if they thought this the mere sensuality of childhood in our nation, which it might outgrow; but they think that they see the evil widening, deepening,—­not only debasing the life, but corrupting the thought, of our people, and they feel that if they know not well what should be done, yet that the duty of every good man is to utter a protest against what is done amiss.

’Is this protest undiscriminating? are these opinions crude? do these proceedings threaten to sap the bulwarks on which men at present depend?  I confess it all, yet I see in these men promise of a better wisdom than in their opponents.  Their hope for man is grounded on his destiny as an immortal soul, and not as a mere comfort-loving inhabitant of earth, or as a subscriber to the social contract.  It was not meant that the soul should cultivate the earth, but that the earth should educate and maintain the soul.  Man is not made for society, but society is made for man.  No institution can be good which does not tend to improve the individual.  In these principles I have confidence so profound, that I am not afraid to trust those who hold them, despite their partial views, imperfectly developed characters, and frequent want of practical sagacity.  I believe, if they have opportunity to state and discuss their opinions, they will gradually sift them, ascertain their grounds and aims with clearness, and do the work this country needs.  I hope for them as for “the leaven that is hidden in the bushel of meal, till all be leavened.”  The leaven is not good by itself, neither is the meal; let them combine, and we shall yet have bread.

’Utopia it is impossible to build up.  At least, my hopes for our race on this one planet are more limited than those of most of my friends.  I accept the limitations of human