It is a mistake that springs largely from ignorance; from our indolent refusal to create, by loving effort, a spiritual democracy corresponding to our outward forms. Two conclusions press themselves upon the mind. The first is sad; we realize that industrial conditions at present absolutely forbid the manual workers from entering on any large scale or in any general sense into the intellectual inheritance of the race. The second is joyful; we become aware that these same workers possess faculties even now ready to yield quick response to a wise culture, and only awaiting a wider freedom to help in enlarging and uplifting our national life. Not the laboring classes alone, but all of us, suffer in class isolation. Neither by improved educational systems, nor by personal contact on formal lines, can this isolation be overcome, but only by a genuine living of the common life, and by the social and industrial changes that must follow. Our scattered thoughts on democracy and education lead us straight to the more searching theme of democracy and society.

EDUCATION AND RELIGION.

BY ARTHUR T. HADLEY

[Arthur Twining Hadley, president of Yale university; born April 23, 1856, at New Haven, Conn., was graduated from Yale in 1876 and studied later in the University of Berlin; in 1879 he became tutor at Yale and 1883-86, lecturer there; he was appointed commissioner of statistics of Connecticut in 1885, and in 1886 he became professor of political science at Yale, resigning in 1889 on his election to the presidency of the university; he is the author of Railroad Transportation, Its History and Laws, Connecticut Labor Reports, Economics, An Account of the Relations between Private Property and Public Welfare, The Education of the American Citizen, Report on the System of Weekly Payments; he is the American editor of the tenth edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica. The following is an address delivered at the 100th anniversary of the Independent Presbyterian church of Philadelphia.]

There are two extreme views concerning the effects of education upon public morality. One is held by the advocates of secular schools; the other is held by the advocates of church schools. This sharp division of opinion is not peculiar to America. It is felt in every country where modern education and modern thought prevail. It takes one form in England, another form in France, and another in Germany; but the underlying issue is the same in all.

The advocate of secular schools believes that good teaching will itself make good citizens. He holds that a large part of our vice is the result of ignorance; and that if you remove the ignorance you will do away with the vice. He thinks that a large part of our errors and our crimes are due to people's failure to recognize the consequences of their acts; and that if you can inform them of those consequences you can check the tendency to crime in its beginnings. He believes poverty and shiftlessness to be so largely due to want of knowledge that if you provide the knowledge you will do away with most of the shiftlessness and the poverty.

Up to a certain point all this is true. There is a vast quantity of shiftlessness and vice due to ignorance; a large quantity of error and crime which would be prevented if the source of error could be rendered harmless at the outset. But though you can thus remove some of the moral evils under which we suffer, you cannot by so simple a means remove

them all, nor even the major part of them. The root of lawlessness lies deeper than mere ignorance of consequences. The chief source of crime is moral perverseness rather than mental deficiency. If you improve a man's intellectual capacity without correspondingly educating his moral nature, you are likely to change the direction in which his criminal or vicious instincts seek their outlet, rather than to destroy those instincts themselves. When you teach a man to write you make him less liable to commit larceny, but you make him much more liable to commit forgery. When you teach a man political economy and law you lessen the temptations and opportunities for acts of violence, but you do not lessen those for acts of fraud. Few of us who have looked into the statistics of education and crime are optimistic enough to deny that they are quite disappointing. The improvement due to the removal of illiteracy amounts to something; but it does not amount to so much as we should like to see, or as was promised by the early advocates of our public school system.

The opponents of that system often point to these statistical results with ill concealed satisfaction. They say that such consequences are just what you might expect from any system of purely secular education. They would have the training of the intellect supplemented by a special system of religious training, which should teach the pupil to use his knowledge for the service of God and the benefit of his fellowmen. If they had to choose between the two, they would regard the religious training as more important than the intellectual, and would prefer schools where the knowledge of the teachers was defective or inaccurate but the religious principles good, to those where the knowledge of the staff was better but their orthodoxy less sound. They look with grave apprehension upon the spectacle of free citizens trained in the knowledge of many things which may prove of use to them individually, but not trained in those ideas of religion and morality which have been rightly regarded as essential to the safety of civilized communities.

I confess that I share some of the apprehensions of these advocates of church schools; but I am very far from agreeing with them as to the proper remedy. I do not believe that

improvement is to be sought by substituting religious instruction for secular instruction, or by superadding one to the other as though the two were separate. I do not believe that you can prepare a man for citizenship by teaching a godless knowledge in one part of the school time and a set of religious principles in another part-any more than you can prepare a man for heaven by letting him cheat six days of the week and having him listen to the most orthodox doctrines on the seventh. I believe that both in school life and in after life the moral training and the secular training must be so interwoven that each becomes a part of the other.

In any good system of education the child learns three or four distinct sets of lessons.

1. He learns a great many facts and principles which he did not know before he went to school. This learning of facts and principles seems to most people who look at the matter superficially to be pretty much the whole of education. It is really only a very small part of it.

2. He learns certain habits of accuracy. Indeed, looking at some of the schools of the present day, I am almost inclined to modify this statement, and say habits of accuracy or inaccuracy; for in the effort to put more knowledge into the child and make the process agreeable, the teacher is prone to sacrifice that thoroughness and precision which were perhaps made the too exclusive object in the classical training of an earlier generation. Along with these habits of accuracy I should place those habits of order and regularity which are not learned out of books at all, but from the quiet working of school rules and school discipline.

3. The pupil in a thoroughly good school also learns lessons of public spirit and self devotion. He can receive these lessons from poetry and history, if properly taught whether that be the poetry or history of the Americans or of the English, of the Greeks or of the Hebrews. He can receive those lessons from the emulation of school life, not only within the classroom, but on the playground. The good of modern athletic sports is not wholly nor mainly a physical one. Athletics, when rightly managed, give lessons in self subordination and loyalty as fruitful as those which can be received anywhere in

the world. And, wholly apart from either study or athletics, the child can learn these same lessons through his admiration of the older boys and of the masters who are doing their work well. All the moral precepts which are taught, even by those head masters who have the greatest reputation as moral teachers, are of little consequence as compared with the personality of those teachers themselves. As we read the books of Thomas Arnold or Mark Hopkins we wonder at the influence which those men had on generations of English or American boys. It is because we know only the books and not the men. The doctrines put into black and white were as nothing. The personality was everything.

I am convinced that a large proportion of our misunderstandings about our school system arise from our overestimate of the importance of the first of these three elements, and a corresponding underestimate of the second and third. That we should make these wrong estimates is not surprising. The enormous widening of modern knowledge, the recent interest in science and scientific discovery, the development of new means for the pursuit of material wealth, have all contributed to that reaction of which I spoke a moment ago against the narrowness of the old classical curriculum. We have been substituting history for literature, experimental science for deductive. We have been tending to value our teaching by the practical utility of the conclusions learned, to subordinate scientific training to technological ends; and even to say that history should become an account of the habits of the mass of the people rather than of the character and influence of their greatest men. To a certain extent this reaction was justified; but I believe that it has gone much too far, and has made us lose sight of the really excellent elements which the old education contained and which the modern education may be in danger of sacrificing. Knowledge is a good thing, and the more we can get of it the better; but if we obtain a large increase of knowledge at even a moderate sacrifice of the habits of accuracy and regularity, we have made our pupil less efficient instead of more so. Intelligence is a most excellent thing to help a man in the conduct of his own affairs; but if we strive to increase that intelligence at the sacrifice of