allowed to use their legs hut not their arms, or whose legs are
daily carefully exercised that after a while their arms may he put
to high use. We do this in spite of the protest of the best educators, Locke and Pestalozzi. We are fortunate in the meantime if their unused members do not weaken and disappear. They do
sometimes. There are a few girls who, by the time they are "educated," forget their old childish desires to help the world and to
play with poor little girls "who haven't playthings." Parents are
often inconsistent: they deliberately expose their daughters to
knowledge of the distress in the world; they send them to hear
missionary addresses on famines in India and China; they accompany them to lectures on the suffering in Siberia; they agitate together over the forgotten region of East London. In addition to
this, from babyhood the altruistic tendencies of these daughters
are persistently cultivated. They are taught to he self-forgetting
and self-sacrificing, to consider the good of the whole before the
good of the ego. But when all this information and culture show
results, when the daughter comes back from college and begins to
recognize her social claim to the "submerged tenth," and to
evince a disposition to fulfill it, the family claim is strenuously
asserted; she is told that she is unjustified, ill-advised in her efforts. If she persists, the family too often are injured and unhappy
unless the efforts are called missionary and the religious zeal of
the family carry them over their sense of abuse. When this zeal
does not exist, the result is perplexing. It is a curious violation of
what we would fain believe a fundamental law —that the final
return of the deed is upon the head of the doer. The deed is that
of exclusiveness and caution, hut the return, instead of falling
upon the head of the exclusive and cautious, falls upon a young
head full of generous and unselfish plans. The girl loses something
vital out of her life to which she is entitled. She is restricted and
unhappy; her elders, meanwhile, are unconscious of the situation
and we have all the elements of a tragedy.
We have in America a fast-growing number of cultivated young
people who have no recognized outlet for their active faculties.
They hear constantly of the great social maladjustment, hut no
way is provided for them to change it, and their uselessness hangs
about them heavily. Huxley declares that the sense of uselessness
is the severest shock which the human system can sustain, and
that if persistently sustained, it results in atrophy of function.
These young people have had advantages of college, of European