proves how here, too, use is subordinated to display.  Dancing, deportment, the piano, singing, drawing—­what a large space do these occupy!  If you ask why Italian and German are learnt, you will find that, under all the sham reasons given, the real reason is, that a knowledge of those tongues is thought ladylike.  It is not that the books written in them may be utilised, which they scarcely ever are; but that Italian and German songs may be sung, and that the extent of attainment may bring whispered admiration.  The births, deaths, and marriages of kings, and other like historic trivialities, are committed to memory, not because of any direct benefits that can possibly result from knowing them:  but because society considers them parts of a good education—­because the absence of such knowledge may bring the contempt of others.  When we have named reading, writing, spelling, grammar, arithmetic, and sewing, we have named about all the things a girl is taught with a view to their actual uses in life; and even some of these have more reference to the good opinion of others than to immediate personal welfare.

Thoroughly to realise the truth that with the mind as with the body the ornamental precedes the useful, it is requisite to glance at its rationale.  This lies in the fact that, from the far past down even to the present, social needs have subordinated individual needs, and that the chief social need has been the control of individuals.  It is not, as we commonly suppose, that there are no governments but those of monarchs, and parliaments, and constituted authorities.  These acknowledged governments are supplemented by other unacknowledged ones, that grow up in all circles, in which every man or woman strives to be king or queen or lesser dignitary.  To get above some and be reverenced by them, and to propitiate those who are above us, is the universal struggle in which the chief energies of life are expended.  By the accumulation of wealth, by style of living, by beauty of dress, by display of knowledge or intellect, each tries to subjugate others; and so aids in weaving that ramified network of restraints by which society is kept in order.  It is not the savage chief only, who, in formidable war-paint, with scalps at his belt, aims to strike awe into his inferiors; it is not only the belle who, by elaborate toilet, polished manners, and numerous accomplishments, strives to “make conquests;” but the scholar, the historian, the philosopher, use their acquirements to the same end.  We are none of us content with quietly unfolding our own individualities to the full in all directions; but have a restless craving to impress our individualities upon others, and in some way subordinate them.  And this it is which determines the character of our education.  Not what knowledge is of most real worth, is the consideration; but what will bring most applause, honour, respect—­what will most conduce to social position and influence—­what will be most imposing.  As, throughout life, not what we are, but what we shall be thought, is the question; so in education, the question is, not the intrinsic value of knowledge, so much as its extrinsic effects on others.  And this being our dominant idea, direct utility is scarcely more regarded than by the barbarian when filing his teeth and staining his nails.