are shown to us rolling heavy weights to and fro, heaping pelf and squandering it, but not using it for independence of bodily wants or for the diffusion of a knowledge of the higher self. The angry are represented by Dante as swimming about in thick, putrid mud gurgling in their throats-an apt symbol of the effects of wrath on the soul's power of insight. The indolent are driven furiously about, running after a giddy flag. Having no reasonable purpose of their own, they are driven about by the goadings and stings of outside circumstances.

(2) The envious are punished in the different ditches as perpetrators of as many different kinds of fraud. The hypocrites, for instance, wear heavy cloaks of lead, gilded on the outside to look as if of gold. They have to endure the hard task of sustaining two different characters-first their own, and second of the one they assume. The soothsayers and fortune-tellers, who open the book of fate and make the future known in the present, have all suffered a paralytic stroke, and their necks are so twisted around that their faces look backward, as if Dante had said: The effect of knowing the future, or of supposing that we know it, is to paralyze our wills in the present, and prevent us from acting and trying like reasonable beings to do our best to make the future better than the present. If we believe the fortune-teller, all is now already determined and irrevocably fixed before we have acted. All time, in fact, is converted into a past, and we can only stand with our hands folded and look at the future as if already gone by. Our necks are so paralyzed and twisted that we look back upon all as past and only past.

(3) Pride is the deepest of the mortal sins, because it strikes at the very fundamental principles of all institutions. It wants no bond of union with its fellow-men or with the Creator. It says, "I alone by myself am sufficient for myself." Dante therefore punishes pride as four different kinds of treachery, freezing the proud traitors in ice, to symbolize the effect of unsociality in chilling the activities of the soul. The sins of incontinence-lust, intemperance, avarice, anger, and indolence-do not strike

against society and institutions directly, but indirectly through their ultimate effects. But envy with its ten species of fraud attacks the social bond itself; for fraud assumes the forms and ceremonies of society to work the ruin of social ends and aims. The individual, seeing that fraud is done in the forms of society, hesitates to trust society. Thus envy strikes against the social bond direct. But envy does not equal pride in its negative effects. Pride says, "I do not want either the goods of my fellow-creatures or their society." Envy says, "I wish all your goods given to me and you deprived of them."

Dante has in the second part of his poem shown the sort of pain that the soul suffers in its struggles to purge itself free from these seven mortal sins. The Purgatory differs from the Inferno, therefore, in the quality of its pain and suffering. The state of mind which is in the Inferno persists in retaining its sinful purposes and doing its deeds against the institutions of society. It supposes that its sufferings are undeserved, and due to the hatred and unjust persecution of its fellow-men and of God. It does not see that its state of torment is due to its own deeds to the atmosphere of those of its deeds which strike against the existence of its own higher self.

(b) The Psychology of Dante's Purgatory.-But in the Purgatory the soul sees that mortal sin brings with it its own atmosphere of torment, and it strives to eradicate from itself all tendency to sin, and for this purpose it welcomes the pain that comes as a means of purification. If the mortal sin had not been accompanied by hellish torments, the soul would not have been able to discover the true nature of its deed, and might therefore have never known the paradise of the higher self-the life in subordination to institutions. Punishment is thus seen in the purgatorial state of the soul to be a tribute of recognition on the part of the Creator-a recognition of the freedom of the will. Man is recognised as responsible for his acts, as owning his deed. Punishment by imprisonment on the part of the state is a high compliment to the individual criminal, for it assumes that the individual is free in doing his deed.

CHAPTER XXXV.

The Psychology of Infancy.

$196. For the first four years of the child's life the family education has been all in all for him. He has learned in his first year to hold up his head, to clutch things with his hands, using his thumbs in contraposition to his fingers, to follow moving objects with his eyes; he has learned smells and tastes, sounds and colours, and the individuality of objects. He has learned to move himself, using his limbs somewhat as a turtle does in crawling. In his second year he has learned to stand alone and to walk; to use some words and understand the meaning of a great many more. His recognition of colours, sounds, tastes, and touch-impressions has increased enormously. He has acquired his first set of teeth and can use them.

The scientific observations of Professor Preyer have taught us how important is the epoch when the human infant ceases to clutch objects only with the four fingers like most of the ape family, and learns to use his thumb over against his fingers. This contraposition of the thumb began, in the case he records, about the twelfth week of the infant's life-at first a sort of reflex action without the will, and then soon after produced by the will, so that contraposition of the thumb was quite attained by the

fourteenth week. The infant rejoices in each new power gained, and incessantly practises it with voluntary attention until it by degrees sinks into a habit. The first look of attention on the part of the child of Preyer was given to some swinging tassels on the thirty-ninth day. In the ninth week it noticed and gave attention to the ticking of a watch. Other important epochs mentioned in his Mind of the Child are the following: 1. Holding up its head by the act of will in the eleventh week. 2. Standing alone in the forty-eighth week. 3. Walking in the fiftieth week. 4. Recognition of its mother on the sixty-first day. 5. Recognition of its own image in a mirror in the sixth month-stretching out its hand to the image—also recognising its father's image, and turning to look at the real father and compare him with the image. 6. In the seventeenth week is noticed the first recognition of self, indicated by attention to his own hand; and six weeks later an elaborate series of experiments of touching himself and foreign objects alternately. 7. The discovery of itself as cause when it can produce sound by rattling a paper, or by striking one object with another, or tearing asunder a piece of paper-this is a most delightful discovery to the child. 8. But imitation, which begins about the fifteenth week and by and by develops into the use of language, is the most interesting evidence of the growth of the intellect. This glance at infant life reminds us that in education things that are very trivial at one epoch are of great moment at another. In cases of arrested development the educational value of such matters as the contraposition of the thumb, the exertion of the will in supporting the body erect, and in imitation, is coming to be well understood, as one may see in recent schools for the feebleminded. But the order of development of these things is all-important. An act is educative when first learned, and then only. After it has become habit it is a second nature-a new nature produced by the will, and is no longer educative. Man as a bundle of habits is a self-made being. Professor Preyer's child was so delighted with the discovery that it could put a cover on a box, that it

deliberately took it off and replaced it seventy-nine times without an interval of rest. It was an educative step in its development-a step in the discovery of its selfhood as an energy, as well as a step in the discovery of adaptation in the external world.

§ 197. Imitation precedes the acquisition of language. In his third and fourth years the child's knowledge of the external world has progressed steadily, powerfully aided, as it is now, by the acquisition of language; for by language the child has become able to use the senses of other people as well as his own. He listens to their accounts of what they have seen, and asks questions incessantly to draw out the experience of his parents, old brothers and sisters, attendants and acquaintances. Not only does he learn to see and hear through other people that is to say, get information of the results of older people's observations-but he begins to use their reflections and inquires eagerly for explanations. It is a great delight for him to discover that things and events are little sections in endless chains of things and events-little beads, as it were, strung on a long thread of causal relation-each thing or event being the effect of some antecedent thing or event, and likewise destined to be the cause of other things and events to follow it. The world seems very wonderful to the child when the principle of causality begins