There is in certain quarters a tendency to disparage culture as not practical-” a spirit of cultivated inaction” -unworthy of the attention of serious men.  The word connotes, perhaps, to these critics certain superficial polite accomplishments, mere frills and decorations, which fritter away our time and dissipate our ambitions.  But in its proper sense, culture is far more than that; it is the comprehension of the meaning of life and the appreciation of its beauty.  And grim as is the age-long struggle with evil, insistent as is the duty to toil and suffer and achieve, it were a harsh taskmaster who should refuse to poor driven men and women the right to snatch such innocent joys as they can by the way, to try to understand the whirl of existence in which they are caught; in short, to really live, as well as to earn a living.  It would be a sorry outcome if when we reached the age of complete mechanical efficiency, with all the machinery of a complex industrial life well oiled and perfected, we should find ourselves imaginatively sterile, hopelessly utilitarian, earthbound in our vision.

(2) But the moralist need not rest with this apology for culture.  By helping us to understand the life about us, culture shows us the better how to solve our own problems, and saves us from the tragedy of putting our energies into fiction, poetry, and the drama give us an insight into the longings, the temptations, the ideals of others, and so indirectly into our own hearts.  Thus a normal perspective of values is fostered; we come to learn what is base and what is excellent, and have our eyes opened to the inferior nature of that with which we had before been content.  There is a pathos in the ignorance of the uncultivated man as to what is good.  Give him money to spend and he will buy tawdry furniture and imitation jewelry, he will go to vulgar shows and read cheap and silly trash.  He is unaware of what the best things are, and unable to spend his money in such a way as really to improve his mind, his health, or his happiness.  Even in his vocation he could be helped by a background of culture; the college graduate outstrips the uneducated man who has had several years the start of him.  And no one can tell how many an undeveloped genius there may be, now working at some humble and routine task, who might have contributed much to the world if his mental horizon had been widened and his latent powers unfolded.  Knowledge is power; we never know what bit of apparently useless insight may find application in our own lives and help us to solve our personal problems.

(3) Moreover, culture is not only informative, it is inspirational.  History and biography fire the youth with a noble spirit of emulation; poetry, fiction, and the drama, and to some extent music, painting, and sculpture, arouse the emotions and direct them-if the art is good-into proper channels.  Meunier’s sculptured figures, Millet’s Angelus or Man with the Hoe, the oratorio of the Messiah or a national