the easy mobility of infancy and
childhood,--the ball,--we pass through the half-steady stages of
boyhood and girlhood, represented in the cylinder, to the firm
character of manhood and womanhood for which the cube furnishes the
formula."

Bishop Brooks, speaking from the words, "The length and the breadth of
it are equal," in his sermon on Symmetry of Life, uses the cube as a
symbol of perfect character: The personal push of a life forward, its
outreach laterally or the going out in sympathy to others, the upward
reach toward God,--these he considers the three life dimensions. But
such building must be done without nervous haste; the foundation must
hint solidly of the threefold purpose; length, breadth, and thickness
must be kept in proportion, if the perfect cube of life is ever to be
found.

NOTE ON SECOND GIFT. [30] "The second gift, even in the nursery, calls
for modifications from the form in which it comes to us from Froebel.
It is incomparable in its rich symbolism for illustrating Froebel's
thought to mature minds, and answers quite a useful purpose in the
nursery, where it may help mamma tell her stories. But in the
kindergarten the child wants to build with blocks. Hence, the third,
fourth, fifth, and sixth gifts are indicated; the second gift, as
such, is, to say the least, an anachronism. Only in the form of the
beads, or some similar expedient which gives many of these things for
control, will it satisfy the kindergarten child. When he is expected
to _study_ the cube, as an object lesson, to count the squares and
corners and tell where they are, it is wholly unpalatable to him and
entirely foreign to his plans."

[30] W. N. Hailmann.

THOUGHTS ON THE DISCRIMINATIVE POWER.

"Mind starts from Discrimination. The consciousness of
difference is the beginning of every intellectual exercise."

"Our intelligence is, therefore, absolutely limited by our
power of discrimination; the other functions of intellect,
the retentive power, for instance, are not called into play
until we have first discriminated a number of things."

"The minuteness or delicacy of the feeling of difference is
the measure of the variety and multitude of our primary
impressions and therefore of our stored-up recollections."

"Bear in mind the fact that until a difference is felt
between two things, intelligence has not yet made the first
step."

"The higher arts of compa