EDUCATION 
437 
his cheque very neatly made out-and signed it by making his 
mark! The Railroad Man was naturally flabbergasted , and 
could not help exclaiming, "Yet you made all those millions 
of yours-what would you have been if only you had been 
able to read and write? "Doorkeeper at the Synagogue" was 
the prompt reply . His illiteracy had disqualified him when he 
applied for the job after landing. 
The story is not only true, but "of all Truth"; see my 
previous letter on "Certainty ." 
Books are not the only medium even of learning; more, 
what they teach is partial, prejudiced, 
meagre, sterile, 
uncertain, and alien to reality. It follows that all the best 
books are those which make no pretence to accuracy: poetry, 
theatre, fiction. All others date . Another point is that Truth 
abides above and aloof from intellectual expression, and 
consequently those books which bear the Magic Keys of the 
Portal of the Intelligible by dint of inspiration and suggestion 
come more nearly to grips with Reality than those whose 
appeal is only to the Intellect. "Didactic" poetry, "realistic" 
plays and novels, are contradictions in terms. 
P.P.S. One more effort: the above reminds me that I have 
said no word about the other side of the medal. There are 
many children who cannot be educated at all in any sense of 
the word. It is an abominable waste of both of them and of 
the teacher to push against brick walls. 
Yet one last point. I am as near seventy as makes no 
matter, and I am still learning with all my might. All my life I 
have been taught: governesses, private tutors, schools, private 
and public, the best of the Universities: how little I know! I 
have travelled all over the world in all conditions, from 
"grand seigneur," to "holy man"; how little I know! 
What then of the ninety-and-nine, dragged by the ears 
through suicide examinations, and kicked out of school into 
factory in their teens? They have learnt only just enough to 
facilitate the swallowing of the gross venal lies of the radio 
and the Yellow Press; or, if mother-wit has chanced to warn