In New York, there is no doubt that the pass system has developed some bad features. Perhaps some trace of these features will be found everywhere in graded schools. It would be difficult to secure ambitious and industrious pupils without running some risks. You must awaken the desire to rise, even though the desire to rise dishonestly may develop itself in some pupils. The gravest charge against the schools is that they kill the pupils with hard work. Every city has its story of a pupil (always a girl) murdered by the severe tasks of the school. The simple truth is that negligent mothers are more guilty than the schools. It is a mother’s business to know all about her children—to know when they are overworked—and it is also the mother’s duty to put a stop to hurtful work. We do not hire teachers to take the place of parents. We could not afford to pay enough teachers for this service. The public school system assumes that mothers attend to their duties, and retain their authority. If school work is hurtful to a young girl, the mother has the right to remove the child from the school. If _she_ does not find out that the work is too hard, how can she expect the teacher to discover it? The general health of public school children proves that the system is not too severe; but it will often happen that young girls are physically unfit for study. It is the business of their mothers—not of their teachers—to know when such disabilities exist. LETTERS OF WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. We love to read the letters of great men, who in letters, art, science, statesmanship, theology, have held a front rank. They discover their personality, and bring us into acquaintance with the men themselves, as nothing else does. We say to the biographer: “Let your subject, as far as may be, tell us of himself; give us any fragments of autobiography or journals which may be in existence; print copiously of his letters.” The wise writer of biography does so; and the most valuable portions of the life of a man of note are those in which he speaks himself. Let Michael Angelo, with candle stuck in his pasteboard cap, teach those who undertake to show us a character in whom there is a public interest; let them keep their own shadows off the canvas. “The Life of Frederick W. Robertson,” by Stopford A. Brooke, and the “Life of Dr. Arnold,” by Dean Stanley, are models of biography. The letters of Robertson and of Arnold are their most prominent feature, and are a priceless treasure, both because of the light they throw upon the personality of the men, and the rich thought with which they sparkle. Mr. Parke Godwin, in his “Life of Bryant,” has done his work well. To have omitted the scrap of autobiography which occupies the first thirty-eight pages of the work would have been a great blunder. It is most charming. And the letters of the great poet and editor are interspersed generously through the two volumes. No one will say that they fill too large a space.