learned how to study; in tcaching him how to study the school has done its work. Beyond giving him the tools of knowledge the primary teaching can do little toward increasing the child's stock of information. That will come to him outside the schoolroom. As said above, and as can not be too often said, the school is a gymnasium for making the child's mind acquisitive and receptive. The teaching of many subjects does not conduce to this. The immature brain is naturally restless and roving; it is for the school to give it the power of concentration. A child's mind is impatient and easily diverted; it is for the school to teach it patience and perseverance. A hasty clutching at many things is easier and pleasanter to both teacher and pupil than thorough mastery of one thing; but the child who has really conquered one subject is he whọ, in manhood, will win the knowledge of a thousand.

The constituents of a sound education.-President E. B. Andrews, of Brown University: Speaking succinctly, the constituents of a sound education are, first, character; second, culture; third, critical power, including accuracy and also sympathy with all the various ages, nationalities, and moods of men; and fourth, power to work hard under rule and under pressure.

We see that here mere knowledge is left out of the account. It is quite incidental and relatively insignificant. Yet, this is what most people have been wont to regard as the sum and substance of education. We see, too, that the question what studies are to be pursued is not mentioned, although many continually place it first. It is not unimportant. It would be pleasant to go into it deeply. Were we to do this, however, we should not enter the lists for the classics on the one hand, or for the sciences of nature on the other, but should urge rather the propriety of giving a much larger place in the curriculum than has ever been given hitherto to the political sciences. But the structure and material of the curriculum is not to-day the most pressing educational question. The definition makes character part of education, and even gives it the first place. All reflecting persons are coming to feel that unless schooling makes pupils morally better, purer within, and sweeter, kinder, stronger in outward conduct, it is unworthy the name.

Culture comes next, by which is meant the power to apprehend and relish the beautiful in conduct, in act and literature, and in nature. Education must enrich life, not enlighten it merely. Culture stands in importance close to character, to which it is also very intimately related in essential nature, and it is far more to be sought than mere mental ability.

Third comes critical power, and mainly in the two great elements of accuracy and sympathy. Memorable ever is the thought of Cardinal Newman, that the principal part of a good education is accuracy. That one's mind is full signifies nothing unless the contents are definite and analyzed. A little knowledge well grouped and ordered comes much nearer the ideal education than infinite funds lying unassorted in the mind like so much raw ore.

To be accurate requires that of many things a finite mind should deliberately remain in ignorance. To read all the books relating even to a subject in which one is especially interested would be a positive disadvantage. Too much information in detail confuses the mind, confronting it with a blurred, indefinite picture that can be of no service to it, instead of those clear, crisp, comprehensible outlines which are so valuable. Large newspaper reading is deleterious to clear thinking beyond perhaps any other of the numerous causes operative in that direction at the present day.

Accuracy must be accompanied by sympathy, the power to draw near to men of all the different ages, civilizations, and temperaments, knowledge of the race, of the world, and of God. Here is where the importance of historical study comes in. "There is one mind," says Emerson, "common to all individual men. Every man is an inlet to the same and to all of the same. He that is once admitted to the right of reason is made a freeman of the whole estate. What Plato has thought, he may think; what a saint has felt, he may feel; what at any time has befallen any man, he can understand. Who hath access to this universal mind is a party to all that is or can be done, for this is the only and Sovereign agent." The true scholar must enter into this mind; the door to it is sympathy; the latch, history.

An important element of sympathy is freedom from prejudice; the power not to dismiss unstudied or contemned a view which at first sight strikes you as strange or even as false. This power is one of the very best tests of a truly educated man. If you can not to a good extent feel with your opponent, you duly weigh his argument; and without this your disputing with him will but saw the air.

With all these qualities must go self-mastery for each important purpose of life, the power to put and hold oneself to work, and to turn off large relays of intellectual or other work in a short time. This, too, is an essential ingredient in education.

We ask too much from [school] education.-Frederic Harrison, in the Forum: Many things work delightfully for good while they are spontaneous and unorganized, but when they are stereotyped into an elaborate art and evolve a special profession or trade of experts they produce unexpected failures and end in more harm than good. We ask too much from education, we make too much of it, we monstrously overorganize it, and we cruelly overload it. Education can do for us infinitely less than we have come to expect, and what little it can do is on the condition that it be left simple, natural, and free. I have known very few men who were made into anything great entirely by their education; and I have known a good many who were entirely ruined by it and were finally turned out as pedants, prigs, or idiots. Struggling to win prizes in examinations, thinking always about the style current to-day, being put through the regula tion mill, and poring over some little corner of knowledge for some material object, may give a one-sided appearance of learning, with nothing behind it; will turn out mechanical eccentricities like calculating machines; may change an honest fellow into a selfish, dull brute, or leave a weak brain softened and atrophied for life. And the more we organize education the greater is the risk of our finding this result.

The school reverses the plan of nature.-James L. Hughes, inspector of Toronto public schools (Canada): In the school of the future the pupil will originate most of the problems. The solution of problems is not so difficult as their conception. The power to recognize problems definitely is infinitely more important than the power to solve them. The most marked characteristic of childhood is its power to recognize the multitudes of new problems by which it is surrounded, and because this power is so strong it is therefore possible to develop it rapidly and definitely, and it was intended that it should so develop through the recognition of our material environment to the power of clear conception of all the problems connected with our intellectual and spiritual life.

Yet this power grows weaker instead of stronger as we grow older. The schools absolutely reverse the plan of nature. Before the child goes to school he discovers his own problems and solves most of them unaided. The few that he can not comprehend he brings to his seniors. When he goes to school his teacher brings the problems to him. Nature made a questioner, a seeker after truth; the school makes him an answer. Nature made his mind to think; the school makes it a receptacle for other people's thoughts. Nature gave him power to see the relationships between himself, and his environments, and his fellow-men, and his Creator; the school dwarfs this power by preventing its activity. We are often startled at the simplicity of new discoveries and inventions, and we wonder why we did not make them ourselves. Every new discovery or invention is merely the solution of a new problem in the relationship of natural forces. The power of solution depends on the power of recognition. We could have solved the problems if we had been definitely conscious of them. They were near us but we did not see them. If we had the power to see clearly the thousands of physical, intellectual, and spiritual problenis that are ever near us, how swiftly the world would move onward; how definite would be our conscious growth towards God. But the schools train men to solve, not to find problems; to answer questions, not to recognize the mighty questions that need answering, and so there is not so much power of original investigation and independent growth in the world as there should be. The school of the future will preserve and develop the child's conceptive relationship to nature and God, intellectually and spiritually.

Fear has its place in the training of the will.-Report of committee of National Council of Education, George P. Brown, chairman: There is a prevailing sentiment that incentives suggestive of pain are to be abolished from our curriculum of will-training. The anticipated pleasures of right doing are to be substituted everywhere for the anticipated pains of wrongdoing. This finds expression in some large cities in the abolition, by order of the school authorities, of all punishment. The pulpit is influenced by this sentiment oftentimes to the extent of ignoring punishment for sin. The family is often dominated by the child's impulses for the reason that it is unable to make desire, reverence, or interest effective in giving dominance to ideas of obedience, and it rejects the incentive of pain as brutal. It is the conviction of the writer of this paper that fear has its place among the incentives in the early training of the will.

Original thinking wanted.-G. Stanley Hall: I would rather have a boy who has but little training in college attempt to add something to the world's knowledge than to attempt to attain a high state of learning.

What the young should know in advance and realize.-William James, professor Harvard University: Attention and effort are, as we shall see later, but two names for the same psychic fact. To what brain processes they correspond we do not know. The strongest reason for believing that they do depend on brain processes at all and are not pure acts of the spirit is just this fact, that they seem in some degree subject to the law of habit, which is a material law. As a final practical maxim relative to these habits of the law we may then offer something like this: Keep the faculty of effort alive in you by a little gratuitous exercise every day. That is, be systematically ascetic or heroic in little unnecessary points, do every day or two something for no other reason than that you would rather not do it, so that when the hour of dire need draws nigh it may find you not unnerved and untrained to stand the test. Asceticism of this sort is like the insurance which a man pays on his house and goods. The tax does him no good at the time and possibly may never bring him a return. But if the fire does come his having paid it will be his salvation from ruin. So with the man who has daily inured himself to habits of concentrated attention, energetic volition, and self-denial in unnecessary things. He will stand like a tower when everything rocks around him and when his softer fellow-mortals are winnowed like chaff in the blast.

The physiological study of mental conditions is thus the most powerful ally of hortatory ethics. The hell to be endured hereafter, of which theology tells, is no worse than the hell we make for ourselves in this world by habitually fashioning our characters in the wrong way. Could the young but realize how soon they will become mere walking bundles of habits, they would give more heed to their conduct while in the plastic state. We are spinning our own fates, good or evil, and never to be undone. Every smallest stroke of virtue or of vice leaves its never so little scar. The drunken Rip Van Winkle, in Jefferson's play, excuses himself for every fresh dereliction by saying, "I won't count this time." Well! he may not count it, and a kind Heaven may not count it; but it is being counted none the less. Down among his nerve cells and fibers the molecules are counting it, registering and storing it up to be used against him when the next temptation comes. Nothing we ever do so is, in strict scientific literalness, wiped out. Of course this has its good side as well as its bad one. As we become permanent drunkards by so many separate drinks, so we become saints in the moral, and authorities and experts in the practical and scientific spheres, by so many separate acts and hours of work. Let no youth have any anxiety about the upshot of his education, whatever the line of it may be. If he keeps faithfully busy each hour of the working day, he may safely leave the final result to itself. He can with perfect certainty count on waking up some fine morning to find himself one of the competent ones of his generation in whatever pursuit he may have singled out. Silently, between all the details of his business, the power of judging in all that class of matter will have built itself up within him as a possession that will never pass away. Young people should know this truth in advance. The ignorance of it has probably engendered more discouragement and faint-heartedness in youths embarking on arduous careers than all other causes put together.

What every boy is entitled to know.-President D. C. Gilman in the Cosmopolitan: Until he reaches maturity every boy requires positive guidance from those who have had a longer experience in the ways of the world. It is always cruel, and it may be criminal, to allow a youth to experiment for himself upon conductto say that he must sow his own wild cats, that experience is the best teacher, that he must choose his own course. Every boy is entitled to know what older persons have discovered of the laws of conduct, and to receive restraint, caution, and warning until his eyes have been opened and his power of judgment developed. Nobody questions that he ought to be taught the laws of health, of diet, of poisons, of climate, or the laws that protect his person and his property; and it is surprising that anybody should question his right to initiation, by stringent discipline, into the laws of intellectual and moral well being. Every boy, whether he wishes it or not, should be trained. Yet the contrary doctrine is covertly held, if not openly avowed, by many a tender mother and by many a generous father. Note the autobiography of John Stuart Mill.

Too intense introspection not wanted.-President Gilman (Ib.): The influence of modern psycho-physiological inquiries upon the coming generations is still undetermined. The good that is aimed at may perhaps surpass the evil that is

done. Certainly, in these days when morbid self-consciousness, extreme sensitiveness, bashfulness, shyness, and timidity are so frequently apparent, the wise parent, the wise teacher will hesitate before encouraging in his own family or his own school too intense and too prolonged introspection. Give the boys plenty of open air, and when they can not have this, encourage within-doors exercise in handcraft, the use of tools, and knowledge of the book of sports, not to the exclusion of other studies, but as collateral security that the mind and the body shall be simultaneously developed. * *

Healthy, out-of-door lives, directed toward objects of enjoyment, of observation, of sport, of acquisition, are better for boys than exclusive devotion to books, and especially than habits of introspection, self-examination, casuistry, journal writing.

Home and school training contrusted.-James P. Munroe, in the Educational Review: The home and the school are two wholly different forces brought to bear upon the growing child. Each has its proper sphere, and the methods of the one have no place in the system of the other. Judiciously exerted, one supplementing the other, these two influences should produce patriotic, moral, wellbalanced citizens. No argument is needed to prove the unfitness of school methods to home training; there should be no need of proof that home methods have little or no place in the school. The child whose parents treat him from the standpoint of the pedagogue is a pitiful creature, starved morally, surfeited mentally. A child who has been trained in a "home" school, by methods which have no right beyond the walls of a house, is even less well fitted for good citizenship. Home training should be always indirect, persuasive; school training direct, authoritative. Home must be suggestive; school training, mandatory. Home training should be mainly by example; school training by fact and precept. Home training must leave free play to the child's mental growth; school training must prune and control that growth. The home fits the child to be a man, the school prepares him to be citizen; one is natural, common to humanity, the other artificial, peculiar to the state. It is seldom that the proper combination of these two elements is reached. * ** The right moral training tempers love with duty and duty with love. This moral training can be perfected only within the home. School life is but a mental gymnasium in which to make the child receptive and acquisitive.

To be preferred to any sort of learning.-Locke: Under whose care soever a child is put to be taught during the tender and flexible years of his life, this is certain, it should be one who thinks Latin and languages the least part of education; one who, knowing how much virtue and a well-tempered soul is to be preferred to any sort of learning or language, makes it his chief business to form the mind of his scholars and give that a right disposition, which if once got, though all the rest should be neglected, would in due time produce all the rest; and which, if it be not got and settled so as to keep out ill and vicious habits, languages and sciences and all the other accomplishments of education will be to no purpose but to make the worse and more dangerous man.

The great end of all teaching.-Tate's Philosophy of Education: Without losing sight of the importance of practical knowledge, especially at the later stages of elementary instruction, the truly enlightened educator will ever regard the development of the faculties as the great end of all his teaching; but from the various useful matters of instruction he will always select that which is best caiculated to secure this end, and his mode or system of teaching will always have a reference to the same great end. The question with him will not be, Have I conveyed the greatest amount of technical knowledge in the least time? Have I engrafted the ideas of the man upon the mind of the boy? but it will rather be, Have I awakened any element of intellectual or moral vitality which had hitherto lain dormant? Have I invigorated or purified any faculty which had hitherto existed in a feeble or in an imperfect state of development? And has all this been attained with a due regard to the future pursuits and destiny of the pupil?

As to self-education.-Charles A. Dana: The worst school that a man can be sent to (and the worst of all it is for a man of genius) is what is called a selfeducation. There is no greater misfortune for a man of extraordinary talent than to be educated by himself, because he has of necessity a very poor schoolmaster. There is nothing more advantageous to an able youth than to be thrown into contact with other youths in the conflict of study and in the struggle for superiority in the school and in the college.

V.-HIGHER EDUCATION.

College-bred men in the business world.-Andrew Carnegie: The total absence of the college graduate in every department of affairs should be deeply weighed. I have inquired and searched everywhere in all quarters, but find scarcely a trace of him. Nor is this surprising. The prize-takers have too many years the start of the graduate; they have entered for the race invariably in their teens-in the most valuable of all the years for learning anything-from 14 to 20. While the college student has been learning a little about the barbarous and petty squabbles of a far-distant past, or trying to master languages which are dead, such knowledge as seems adapted for life upon another planet than this as far as business affairs are concerned, the future captain of industry is hotly engaged in the school of experience, obtaining the very knowledge required for his future triumphs. I do not speak of the effect of college education upon young men training for the learned professions; but the almost total absence of the graduate from high position in the business world seems to justify the conclusion that college education as it exists is fatal to success in that domain. The graduate has not the slightest chance, entering at 20, against the boy who swept the office, or who begins as shipping clerk at 14. The facts prove this. Henry Clews I have given it some thought, and my conclusions are the result of experience. I might say in beginning that I do not employ college men in my banking office. None need apply. I don't want them, for I think they have been spoiled for business life.

After spending several of the best years, the years when the mind is most active and most open to impression, in learning a lot of things which are utterly useless for business, they come to the cities to make their way in the world. They are perfectly ignorant of business methods. Their whole education has tended to shut their minds to knowledge of this kind. While they have been at college other men have been in the business offices, have begun at the bottom and have worked up, learning all the details, getting that knowledge which can not be set down in books.

Now, the college graduate is not willing to begin at the bottom. He looks down on the humble place which he is fitted to fill. And, indeed, he looks down on all business as dull and unattractive. He wants a place such as his education and his years seem to command. This place he can not get, for he has as yet the A, B, C's of business to acquire.

And even if he does bring himself to accept the place, which he must accept if he would have any measure of success, he does not utilize it in a way to advance. His thoughts are not with his business, but with his books, literature, philosophy, Latin. Now, no man can approach the exacting business life in this half-hearted way. Business requires the undivided mind.

Winthrop D. Sheldon, in the New Englander and Yale Review: It is not less education, but more and better, that is needed in business life, an education that is so all-around as to give a larger success than the mere accumulation of a fortune. Hitherto such have been the unexampled opportunities for fortune-making, always to be found in a new and undeveloped country, that multitudes of men have "stumbled" into wealth, not because of any special capacity of their own superior to that of their neighbors, but by some happy accident. The attainment of riches by no means proves that a man possesses superior ability in any large sense of the term. Indeed, it has been well said that very often the rich man in a community is conspicuously stupid, ignorant, and narrow-minded outside of his special sphere. This is the natural result of a lifetime's "moneygrubbing," when all of a man's thoughts and energies are concentrated upon the one object of making money for money's sake. If it be true that comparatively few of the college-educated win a great fortune, it is doubtless due in great measure to the fact, which is much to their credit, that such men have too many and diversified intellectual interests to be able or willing to turn themselves into mere money-making machines. Thereby the community at large is greatly the gainer and its common life is preserved from becoming mercenary and sordid.

* *

Does it not involve a serious impeachment of the standards of business capacity to maintain that a youth of 14, who goes at once into a store, his mental powers as yet comparatively undisciplined, and spends the next few years in

The other extracts upon this subject given in this connection were compiled by Mr. Sheldon in illustration of his argument in the New Englander. Most of them appeared originally in the New York Tribune in reply to Mr. Carnegie's assertion.