istrative units by allowing conditions to determine the size. It makes possible the direct supervision of the individual school by a high-grade expert, giving all of his energies to the work. It is the most feasible, from the practical point of view. It is the one most easy to carry through the legislature, for its elasticity and practicability disarm most of the argu

ments which can be brought against other forms of supervision.

Substantially this plan is in operation today in the state of Massachusetts, the foremost educational state of the union. This in itself should be sufficient to give it at least a serious consideration by those interested in advanced educational legislation for Ohio.

The burden of stress in education has been with the intellect. Teaching has confined itself more especially to facts and the acquiring of knowledge. It seems that the question has been, What does one know, rather than,-What is he? What is his life? In a large measure schools and school work have been organized with this particular end in view. Teachers are rigidly examined as to their scholastic attainments, and with knowledge as the fundamental qualificationperhaps the only one-they are licensed to teach. Courses of study and programs have been arranged almost exclusively in accordance with the same ideal; and even in classroom and recitation we often look in vain for some influence and purpose other than intellect and knowledge. This one power of the soul seems to have been so unduly emphasized that to some educators it stands for almost the whole man, and all other powers are, in a sense, sacrificed to its advantage. Some wise men even go so far is to instruct us that getting an education is nothing more than thinking and learning to think. Thinking

is nothing more than forming judgments about facts and reasoning from these judgments. This is a very important phase of education; but it should not become all of it. We are beginning to see more and more clearly that to make men wise does not always make them what they should be. Facts alone cannot make men noble; neither can they make them refined. Knowledge is not the end of life, and that education is insufficient which stops with this alone.

Man is a complex being; his powers are various; the center of his consciousness may be touched in different ways; his life is a process of giving and receiving; and to make his vital consciousness of power and activity richer and fuller in every phase of experience is the end of education. It is from this point of view that I am led to believe that the higher emotions of man have never been given the place and attention in education that belong to them. Feeling is at once the background and setting of all the functionings of the soul; it is the original source of every inclination, activity,

and habit. All of the higher institutions of society have their origin in emotion. The family, the church, the community, and the state are the enduring monuments of what man feels and has felt in the world. They speak to us of passion, of reverence, of sympathy. Knowledge and reason have aided wonderfully in the manner and means of expression; but the final cause of inspiration and effort is not intellect, for before man knows and acts he feels. This fundamental power of the human soul cannot be ignored in any effort to increase its life, for, "out of the heart are the issues of life."

To increase men's knowledge is a necessary and noble purpose of eduIcation, but when it has done this its whole work is not finished. To make men wise without at the same time making them truly refined is only to increase the possibility and ease of vice and crime. Feeling leads to action; every means of knowledge and power is utilized for the expression and gratification of the heart. To know God is wisdom; to love and revere Him is religion and life. To know that salvation is possible does not always save. To know all the facts of nature and the world around us may not always open our eyes to the beauties of natural phenomena nor heighten our appreciation of their spirit and soul. Something more than knowledge must come from education. Feeling and imagination must have their part, or the whole scheme will necessarily fail in its ultimate aim and purpose.

But some one may ask: Is it not true that increasing knowledge and developing reason cannot go on without at the same time cultivating and refining imagination and feeling? All this may be true; but if it is sometimes the result or partial re

sult, is it not in spite of our educational efforts rather than because of them? Feeling is natural to men and cannot be eliminated from their experiences. Whatever they do is accompanied by feeling, and mere chance may so call it into play as to accomplish a favorable development. But what have our schools been doing for the direct purpose of emotional culture and of deepening appreciation of the better things in life? I cannot help but feel that we have not been giving as much attention to refinement of feeling as its importance in life demands.

The changes that are being made and that have been made in the curriculum during quite recent years are doing much to facilitate opportunity for emotional culture. Influences are being brought into school life that appeal directly to the aesthetic sense and call the artistic powers into activity. Not many years ago literature in its narrower sense was thought of as a luxury for the few who have abundant leisure but lack virility. To give it a place and a teacher in the public schools would have been considered a waste of time and money. It is not practical; does not help men make a living, but has a tendency to make them dreamers; therefore it must not be fooled with. However, we are beginning to realize that the apparently impractical is often the most seriously practical, and that making a living means more than supplying food, clothing and shelter. A man's soul cannot be estimated from the size of the house he lives in, neither can his riches of thought and appreciation be calculated from his weekly accounts with the grocer and butcher. Living is the end of life; and whatever will enhance and intensify its manifold experiences is practical. So we have

let this ungradable influence establish itself in our schools and are beginning to learn how to use its subtle power. But with nature study, whose artistic side is closely related to literature in purpose, many are still at war, and perhaps most of us are only tentatively feeling our way toward the most effectual means and method of its use and adaptation.

It is not my purpose to offer any adverse criticism on the scientific phase of nature study. This work is necessary and highly to be commended; but I cannot persuade myself that it covers the whole field of what nature study, or perhaps better, nature culture, should include, nor even the most important part. Science deals with facts and the classification of facts. Its appeal is to the intellect; its end is exact knowledge; and when we limit nature study to elementary science, we only strengthen educational forces where they are strong already. But it is to the artistic phase of nature work that I wish to call attention; to the stimulation of feeling and imagination that leads to richer and fuller appreciation. Most of us know too little about birds and trees and flowers. If possible. we should leave nothing undone that will increase our knowledge of natural history. But is it not true that we know already or have the means of knowing vastly more than we appreciate and enjoy? The name of a bird and a knowledge of its habits does not always make its song sweeter nor our attitude toward it more sympathetic and refined. To know the parts of a flower and its place in a catalogue of plants will not always make its odor more fragrant nor inspire a purer reverence for its simple grace and beauty. nature study should do this. ing tells us that:

And yet, Brown

"There is a world of capability For joy, spread round about us, meant for us; Inviting us."

Nature study should aim to develop in us the artistic power and ability to enter into the fullest appreciation of this joy. I am sure Portia was right when she said, "It is easier to tell ten men what were good to be done, than to be one of the ten to follow my own teaching." It is difficult to formulate any method by which all may hope to bring about a common result; but I believe the higher ends of nature study will never be realized until the poetic method of living acquaintance is added to that of scientific experiment. If we would get artistic experience and culture from the world around us, we must sit at the feet of them who have had this refinement in the highest degree and learn from them the sure method.

It has always seemed to me that the poet has done more for the interpretation of nature than the scientist ; and yet few poets have had much real scientific training. Their attitude toward the outside world is one of friendly companionship and appreciation rather than one of study. They lived with nature: became intimately acquainted with her; entered into her life; understood and interpreted her varying moods. Lanier tells us that for him a walk in the woods meant life, not study. Every leaf bred a poem and his spirit forgot self in the deep reverence inspired by the songs and silences of a larger life. Even the broad, dreary marshes of Glynn had a charm to call back his spirit into the presence of God, and a power to suggest new meanings for old and familiar truths. Wordsworth tells us that he owed his

Then, too, we cannot ignore the larger elements in nature if we would work into our lives the deeper meanings of her revelation. The broad landscapes of plains and hills, of mountain and river and sky will reveal their secrets to us only when we bow down and listen for their silent messages. The chosen people of God heard Him speak in the whirlwind and from the burning bush; His laws came down to them from the mountains written on tablets of stone; the scene of His transfiguration was laid among the lonely hills. They followed His presence in pillars of fire and cloud; they gathered His manna from the dry and desert plains. But have we lost the eye to use, or is it only that we neglect to cultivate the power to feel the presence of divinity. in the world around us, and understand the meaning of what it reveals?

No, we have not gone far enough when we have learned the secrets of the material form of things; we must also grasp something of their spiritual significance and soul. soul. The Psalmist says, "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help." Not that he would learn facts that come with study, but that he might drink from that larger fountain of wisdom freely poured out for man from the soul and spirit of nature and of nature's God. Ruskin tells us that, "It is a strange thing how little in general people know about the sky. It is the part of creation in which nature has done more for the sake of pleasing man and more for the sake and evident purpose of talking to him, and teaching him, than in any other of her works, and it is just the part in which we least attend to her."

So I cannot help believing that the higher end of nature study must be sought through its artistic phase that appeals directly to the emotions, and has for its aim their cultivation and refinement in purer appreciation. It cannot be realized through the study of books or mere accumulation of facts but by freely giving one's self up to imagination and intimate companionship with nature and her ways. Inspiration is not the slave of our bidding, but comes at its own time, in its own way, we know not when nor how. Go out among the fields and woods; leave the spirit free to wander, and keep the mind open to the suggestions that may come from the rustle of the leaves, from the songs of birds, and from the modest beauty and innocence of wild flowers. And the larger elements of nature, too, have messages for us. The rivers and mountains; the landscape of field-planted plains; the sky with its clouds and shadows, with its ever

changing pictures of sunrise and sunset; the peace of twilight and dawn; night with its rest, its darkness and stars all these have created an atmosphere of sublimity that inspires reverence and lifts the soul upward. In their presence the heart is purified while the spirit communes with God. A higher pantheism and worship is born that still finds God in His works, and nature permeated with His divinity. Ruskin says, "This nature-worship will be found to bring with it such a sense

of a

of the presence and power Great Spirit as no mere reasoning can either induce or controvert; and where this nature-worship is innocently pursued-i. e., with due respect to all other claims on time, feeling, and exertion, and associated with the higher principles of religion; it becomes the channel of certain sacred truths, which by no other means can be conveyed." All this we have a right to ask from nature study, and to expect as the reasonable result of its highest purpose and use..

Many moons ago there appeared in this journal a communication from the present writer entitled, "A Farmer's Views of Some School Matters." The editor seemed to think that "views" can be made to order for no sooner had the blood of those views completed the circulation of the educational world than I received a letter from him containing a nice little bit of taffy and asking for more views. But views, like some other things we have heard of are born, not made, and now after the necessary period of growth and development another collection of views is ready for delivery to a waiting world.

Twenty-nine years ago this winter I taught my first school and I had a plenty to do. Well do I remember my transition from theory to practice. It had never occurred to me but that I would have plenty of time to do every thing I wanted to. The thoroughness with which I was going to drill those children in every branch was a thing of beauty, but

Oh, what a difference in the evening! Many things slightly done, but nothing thoroughly or satisfactorily. But it seemed fairly satisfactory to the powers, for when my contract expired I received an offer of re-employment at advanced wages. Since then there has been added to the curriculum United States history and civil government, physiology and literature with nature study and elementary agriculture waiting their turn. What would I do now? Well, I suppose I would do proportionately worse than I did then, just as the rank and file are doing. I am quite sure that if I should attempt any very radical common sense change I should get myself

trouble.

get myself into deeper

As teacher, I have long been out, but as parent I am in, having two children who are victims of the "system" and another awaiting the legal school age.

From these remarks one might infer that I am opposed to having these