"The comfortress of unsuccess, To bid the dead good-night." Neither in the material and the intellectual spheres alone do we aspire more nobly for our children than for ourselves. Not success and not fame limit our demand of Fate, that she repair in our children the injustice of which we ourselves cease to complain. We want them to be better men and women than we have been. To put the thing on its lowest ground (and nothing but the lowest motives ever seem to be accorded the smallest validity by the more conspicuous among recent vaticinators of human action) it behoves us to make the best we can of our children's morals, if we are presently in old age likely to be dependant upon them. But for those who, like Malvolio, "think nobly of the soul," it is sufficient to rely upon the manifested predilection of every parent in order to be convinced that the education of the future will be moralised as well as rationalised through the natural emotions of man. Only the dullest and most turgid imagination will consent to believe that the horrible conditions of competitive struggle will be permitted to foster only the lower faculties, as greed, selfishness, unscrupulous cunning and subtle evasiveness, at the expense of all the finer characteristics of man. There is no cynic so base as would deliberately seek the fortune of his sons in the inculcation of chicane. Struggle must sharpen all our intellects as life grows yearly more difficult, but one by-product of this attrition will be the increased morality with which the education of each generation successively arising will be conceived.