y EDUCATION IN THE TWENTIETH CENTUEY A CRITICISM AND A FOKECAST. BY J. E. BRYAKT, M.A. A PAPER READ BEFORE THE ONTARIO TEACHERS' ASSOCIATION ON THE EVENING OF APRIL 19TH, 1892, AND REPRINTED FROM THE ANNUAL REPORT OF THE ASSOCIATION BY KIND PERMISSION OF THE SECRETARY. Q;orottt0 : q^**- Printed bt Hill h Wbib, Tkmpiraiicb St. i <1 I ■ I / EDUCATION IN TILK TWENTIETH CENTURY A CKITICLSM AND A FOIiKCAST. itv J. E. BRYAXT, M.A. A PAPER READ BEFORE THE ONTARIO TEACHERS' ASSOCIATION ON THE EVENING OF Al'RIL liirii. W-J, ANO REPRINTED FROM THE ANNUAL REPORT OF THE ASSOCIATION BY KIND PERMISSION OF THE SECRETARY. OTaranto : Pkintkh liv HiLi. & Wkih, Te.mpeuanck St. IH'.iJ. EDUCATIOX IX THE IVVKXTIETH CENTURY: A CRITICISM AND A FORECAST. liY J. E. BUVAXT, -M.A. I purpose in this address to offer a criticism upoa our present edu- cational ideals — at least so far as these are manifested in our present educational achievement and policy, basing what I have to say upon what I conceive to be the titness or unfitness of these ideals to harmonize with the intellectual activities and the tendencies of social development which characterize our age, and which undoubtedly will still more markedly characterize the ago which is to succeed ours. To do this properly it will be necessary to review — even if ever so hurriedly — the course of social and intellectual development in the century now closing, so that with this clearly in our mind we may ba the better able to discern what the present tendencies of our social and intellectual forces are, and wbat effect these forces are likely to have upon our civilization before the twentieth century shall have finished its course. It will be seen from this statement that the subject is a large one; that I can treat it only in the most general terms; that much which I shall have to say ought to be backed up by explanations, references, statistics, and the like, which must perforce be omitted; and that therefore I must present to you my opinions dogmatically, and without that argument or illustration which the discussion of so grave a theme in right demands.* One hundred years ag':^ France was still a monarchy, and Louis XVI. still king, and that terrible upheaval of long restrained social forces, which we know aa the great revolution of 1792, and which perhaps more than any other event has dominated the political and general social pro- gress of the race since that time, bad not yet begun, but was indeed just beginning to announce itself in most ominous mutterings of widespread discontent. In England there were widespread discontents also, be- tokening social injustice and ominous of revolution ; but in England the great middle classes had been politically emancipated one hundred years * It is but right to state that in practically writiag out the address I found that after I had got the Introduction well finished I had but little space left for the discussion of the theme proper — namely, the prospective character of educational methods and ideals in the twentieth century. This will account for the very hurried and incomplete treatment so obvious in the latter part of the address. I was obliged, not only to condense and abbreviate the parts I actually wrote, but also to leave many other parts out altogether befuro, 80 that these now united with the old-time privileged classes to maintain a stable ^'oveninient, and thus were efFectual in postponing l)oliti(;al reform until it could be accomplished by more peaceful methods. But nevertheless from that date to the present, there has been in English politics a delinile movement towards a complete political enfranchise- ment of the entire body politic, that was never before discernible, until to-day jtolitical sutlrage in the Ilritish Kropire is all but universal, and in a few years will undoubtedly become entirely so. One hundred years ago the great principle of local self-government was practically unknown or disbelieved in. The magnificent territory which two centuries of colonization had gained for the Mother Country in the North American continent had just been lost after an iga, mini'- effort to retain it by force of arms, wholly because of the inability .1 those in authority at the time to recognize the value of that principle as a necessary element of healthy national life. For Canada, however, a territory which had been acquired by conquest, the lesson of the Colonial Revolution had been somewhat instructive; and the Imperial act of one hundred and one years ago gave to our young country a half-way measure of local self-government, which incomplete and unsatisfactory as it was, proved to be a constitutional foundation upon which subse- quent advance towards complete local self-government has been possible, until now but little ramains to be accomplished in that direction, — which little, however, we may trust will soon be achieved. But for Ireland, the misconception, one hundred years ago, as to the salutariness of the principle of local self-government has resulted in almost a whole century of misgovernment and wrong, until now, the moral sense of the whole nation being arouse-d to the crying shame (tf the situation, it is found that remedial measures of the most doubtful character are alone possible of application to effect the healing of an evil for which measures of simple justice would have been amply sufficient a century ago. The object lesson upon the nation of this century of misrule is, however, not a bad one; for soon Scotland, Wales, and even Eugland, as well as Ire- laml, will undoubtedly be enjoying, each in its own way, the political blessing of national self-government. Without specializing further, and hastening to a summary, we may characterize the political development of the last one hundred years as being mainly in these two directions: (1) the securing to every citizen the enjoyment of civil rights equal to those enjoyedby every other citizen — which result we may say is practically achieved, at least in English- speaking communities, and is the political achievement which, more than anything else, dill'erentiates this century from every other one in the world's history; and (2) the securing to integral parts of the national organism, whether kingdom, province, or colony, powers of self-govern- ment of the amplest possible extent consistent with national coherency and strength. As a complement to this, there has been a corresponding tendency to extend the powers and liberties of the municipaliiy, whether this be city, town, county or township; but as this gradual extension of municipal power has been accompanied by a corresponding delegation to the municipality, on the part of the individual, of a portion of his private right or privilege, the municipal development of the nineteenth century is, more properly speaking, a foreshadowing of that ideal of social organization which, as we shall see, will be the characteristic political feature of the twentieth century, just as the enfranchisement of the individual, to which we have referred, has been the characteristic political feature of the nineteenth. When we come to describe that phase of the social and intellectual development of the last one hundred years which is manifested in the progress made in the arts and sciences, and especially in th« mechanic arts and in the industries related thereto, we must indeed characterize the closing century as the most wonderful one in the world's history. Although the subject is a trite one, it is important that we should re- member that for several centuries before the present the aspect of the civilized world changed from one centurv to another little more than from one year to another. As far as material comforts go, and the conquest and utilization of the forces and resources of nature, the England of Queen Anne differed little from that of C^ueen Elizibeth, the England of George II. little from that of Charles II. The country was gaining in wealth, and larger areas were being occupied and tilled, and towns and cities were increasing in number and in size; but all this was the general result of laborious industry, of the natural increase of population, and of the wider range that commerce was gradually assuming, rather than of that ingenious .pplication of mind to matter, so characteristic of our nineteenth century, which we call invention. It would be scarcely fair to claim for the last one hundred years ail the progress characteristic of modern times, which the mechanic arts and industries have achieved; for the steam engine had been brought by its inventor. Watt, to a fair degree of efficiency as far back as 1774, and Sir Richard Arkwright died just one hundred years ago this present year, having amassed a fortune, besides gaining splendid renown, from his inventions in cotton machinery; and other industries such as those connected with the manufacture of wool, silk, iron, earthenware, and porcelain, and the notable employment of canals as a help to commercial traffic, had given character to the eighteenth century as one of considerable industrial progress. But nevertheless it is still true that in the vast range of mechanic arts and industrial occupations of to-day, there is scarcely one of the infinite number of devices that are employed for utilizing the forces of nature, and for converting the crude products of the earth into articles of use or comfort for man, which is not the result of inventive skill developed within the past one hundred years. Xot only so, but those sciences which have most contributed to this marvellous industrial developmetit, the sciences which have to do with the manifestations of physical energy, as heat, light, electricity, magnetism, and chemicil affinity, and the practical sciences which are based on these, are wholly, except in their very gemiB, the products of the repearches of the past one hundred years. And to so <;reat an extent has this development of mechanical invention and scientific discovery gone on. that there is not a garment that we wear, not a particle of food thut we eat, not a tool or an implement that we employ in our daily vocation?, not an aiticle of comfoit or luxury that we delight in, which is not produced in a manner almost wholly unknown to our grandfatliersof the last century, and with such marvellous economy of time and material that the whole scale of social existence is elevated and hroadeiied; so that the social possibilities of one hundred years ago and those of to-day — at least in their meterial aspects — are absolutely incomparable. In fact we may truly say, that in the mastery of the forces of nature, and in utilizing the resources of nature for man's benefit and comfoit, the nineteenth century has made more progress than all the other centuries together from the beginning of time. To completely survey the development of the past one hundred years, even ever so hurrieily, will take me far beyond my limits. The •wonderful literary activity ot the age, infinitely surpassing that of all other ages in extent, in versatility of accomplishment, ami in accuracy of execution, and etfualing all other ages, if not surpassing them, in genius,, must be dismissed without further mention. So, too, must its progress in the iV'sthetic arts — as painting, sculpture, architecture, and music. Su^ too, must the development of those professional sciences which have to do with our health — medicine, surgery, pharmacy, dentistry, and public sanitation. And many other inviting fields must be passed over without a word. But there is one other aspect of the social development of the century which we must needs consider, before passing on to the examin- ation of the social ideal of the future, — first, because of its practical bearing on the question as to the best means of attaining that ideal ; and secondly, because of its importance in the work of preparing the pujtil for the duties of citizensliip, no matter what the social ideal may be. The development, ot course, to which I refer, is that of religion and religious effort. If one were to be asked to characterize the religious development of the nineteenth century by its most salient and noticeable feature, he would most undoubtedly do so by speaking of it as the one which in thoughtfulness of enquiry as to the meaning and validity of religion, and in earnestness of appreciation as to the value of religion as an indi- vidual and social blessing, has surpassed every previous century that the worlil has ever known. This thoughtfulness of enquiry is not mere sceptical speculation ; it is the outcome of a devout hungering for the truth. This appreciation of the value of religion is not always a mere conservation of inherited predispositions ; it is, quite as frequently, an intuitive consciousness, which e.'cperience only the mora deeply confirms,, that without religion, the human heart becomes torpid in its sympathies, its instincts for righteousness become inert, its aspirations for good die for lack of sustaining emotion. There has been scepticism in other ages ; but never has the scepticism of any former age been like the scepticism of this — a cry for truth oftentimes more passionate than that of the believer. A characteristic of our times, of significance in this respect, is the fact that even in fiction the most widely-read books are often those which portray the emotion of the soul in its search for some impregnable defence for its religious convictions. A second character- istic is the fact that while in other ages scepticism has frecjuently been a mere excuse for frivolity, self-indulgence, or even libertinism, to-day when avowed it quite as frequently betokens earnestness of purpose, purity of life, and self-sacrificing devotedness to the good of others. Still a third characterietic of the age is the fact that to those who have lost their faith in the Divine government of the universe for the ultimate good of man, and believe it rather under the rule of inexorable, imper- sonal law, there has come instead not that license of unrestraint which one might suppos^e would follow, but a sorrowful and pathetic despair of the future such as a patriot might feel who saw his country lost for ever beneath the iron rule of some conquering tyrant. All these I take to be indications of, and tributes to, the deeply religious earnestness of our times. Glancing back over the past century to see what has been the his- tory of its religious eflfort, as manifested in churches and other definite organizations, we are struck with three noticeable facts : (1) that in respect to those formularies of belief, or expressed standards of faith, upon %vhich these organizations are based, there have been scarcely any changes — in other words, that the professed beliefs of to-day are outwardly those of one hundred years ago; (2) that nevertheless, especially within the last half century, there have been within the churches unending conten- tions as to particular articles of belief and phases of religious practice, most of which call for considerable revision of the standards before they can become definitely settled — these contentions and difleren^'es being partly the result of scholarly investigation and induction, and partly the inevitable divergence and disintegration that ensue when dift'erent de- grees of importance are attached to articles of belief, the relative import ancc of which is not defined in the primary standards ; and (3) that despite this inconsistency between individual private opinion and out- wardly professed creed, the religious life of our century has been charac- terized by an activity of philanthropic and beneficent effort, not only un- paralleled in pravious centuries, but for the most part unknown to them. It is true that in the eighteenth century, and even in the seventeenth, some missionary efforts were put forth by the Christian people of Europe, and at least two societies founded (the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, and the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge) which have accomplished untold good in spreading the beneficent influence of Chris- tianity throughout the world ; but nevertheless it remains the fact, that what is now understood as the missionary enterprise and philan- thropic endeavor of the world has almost all had its origin within the last one hundred years — such great philanthropic organizations as the London Missionary Society, the British and Foreign Bible Society, and 8 the Religious Tract Society, having been founded in the closing years of the last century, less than one hundred years ago ; and many others the^ and later. (I purposely leave out of this review all raference to the eilorts of the Koman Catholic Church in missionary enterprise ; but I may remark in passing that the whole history of that church during the last four centuries and a half is one long-continued record of missionary en- deavor which Protestant Churches might do well to emulate.) And not alone in missionary work, and in the dissemination of religious know- ledge and useful literature, have the churches been unprecedentedly active during the last one hundred years, but also in church building, in par- ochial extension, in the erection of hospitals, orphanages, asylums, etc., and in the systematic relief of the poor. But the most important elfort of the churches in philanthropic work has been manifested indirectly ; for it is without doubt the indwelling of a vital spirit of true religion within the heart, however unacknowledged, and the beneficent affect of its indwelling there, that has been the originating and sustaining cause of those magnificent manifestations of charity and humanity which our century has witnessed — in such world-wide philantliropic efforts, as for examjjle, the abolition of slavery, the reformation of prison discipline, and the general promotion of temperance, as well as in those institutions for the relief of the poor, and the care of the sick and the aged, which are to be found in almost every city and town of the civilized world, the like of which were never seen in any previous age. But a review of the religious development of the century would be incomplete, if it left out what I conceive to be a necessary generalization of the religious situation as it stands to-day. Roughly speaking, there are three classes of religionists — using the word in a good sense, and intending by it a professed follower of Christ : (1) those who look upon the church as an external organizition held together by a necessary obedience to a divine constitution originally imposed upon it, and potentially embracing within itself the whole of human society ; (2) those who regard the church as not in any necessary sense an external organization, but as rather the indefinite assemblage of those who are saved from the effects of wrong-doing, and impelled to righteous- ness of conduct, by the indwelling influences of a personally-accepted religion ; and (H) those who see little prospect that the church, if organized upon its present ideals, will ever get possession of society and thus dominate it with its beliefs and rules of conduct, however desirable a consummation that may be, and who also see equally little prosjiect that any one definite form of religious belief (as now held by the several religious denominations) can be universally commendable to, or acceptable to, society; but who do care, and that mightily, for what may be called the fruits of religion — these being evidenced not by what men believe, or profess to feel, but by what they actually do, or help to do, for the betterment of their fellow-men and for the amelioration of mankind in general. These three classes are by no means mutually exclusive, for of course they run into one another ; but nevertheless the classitication will be important when we come to conaider what necessary cha. 3 we may look for in the relations of religion to social life in the fiociai development of the next one hundred years. Having thus outlined briefly the principal features of the social and intellectual development of the century just ending, at least in so far as these have been characteristic and distinguishing, we must now consider that aspect of our development which is to be regarded, as I have before remarked, as being the precursor of what is to be the characteristic and dominant feature of the twentieth century civilization, rather than as a part of that of the nineteenth century. As we have seen before, the political development of the century now closing, has been principally towards the realization of complete political equality. The individual is now the voter, or practically so. Manhood suffrage, almost complete and universal among English speaking people everywhere; womanhood suffrage, in many places, either cuniplete or partial, and soon to be both complete and universal — this is the final outcome after centuries of progress thitherward, but of progress more definite and rapid in this century than in any other preceding. One by one the disabilities have been removed, until everywhere in England and her self-goveroini? colonies, and in the English speaking republic to the south of us, the individual citizen stands before the law (or will practically do so before the century closes) in the enj jyment of privileges etjual to those enjoyed by every other. But with tliis gradual enfranchisement of the individual, and his deenening consciousness of political rights and powers so long denied him, accompanied as it has been by no ade([uate improvement in our national methods for e(|uitablv distributing the benefits of social industry, there has come to him not only the discernment of social inequality and the sense of social injustice, but also the determination to bring about » more equitable allotment of social goods and comforts, even at the cost of the privileges of old en joytd by others, if that indeed be necessary. This, then, is the social problem of to-day, which the last half century at any rate has been slowly evolving, and the solution of which will un- doubtedly be the principal achievement and characteristic feature of the incoming twentieth century, — the reconstruction of our social system so as to secure for the individual not merely political rights ecjual to those enjoyed by all other citizens, but also equal social rights and privileges. Let it not be supposed that what the social reformer desires is simply an enforced equal redistribution of the accumulated wealth of ages among all the individuals of society as now constituted, and an enforced obliteration of the lines of class distinction. What he wants is rather that all laws shall be framed so that that which we call wealth, namely, the accumulated products of industry, shall not aggregate to favored individuals, but shall tend to flow freely and impartially to all the members of the commonwealth; and so, too, that neither by the accident of birth or fortune shall one man have advantage over another in the lO struggle for existence. Indeed, the very phrase, " the struggle for exist- ence," he conceives should have no part in a well-organized social system. It should be applicable only to an uncivilized society, or to a community oi" brutes. For in a society of civilized human beings, where every one recognizes, or is forced to recognize, the inherent rights of all others, not only to the fruits of the earth, but to the earth itself, there woxild be no struggle for existence, inasmuch as the earth is plentiful, and abundant in resource, and able to the uttermost to supply the wants of all her children, that none may lack if none be superabundantly supplied. Such, stated in brief, is the hope of the social reformer of to-day, and the ideal to which he conceives all subsequent attempts at social reform should approximate. It is based on his love for the amelioration of humanily, and is supported and made enduring by his sense of the iujustice of the inequalities of our present social bystem — of its tremen- dous contrasts of wealth and poverty, of luxury and wretchedness, of refinement and squalor, of scholastic opportunity and tyrranous ignor- ance. And those magnificent achievements in the arts and sciences, and splendid conquests of the forces and resources of nature which our century has witnessed — these, instead of mitigating the stress of the social problem, and assisting to bring humanity to a more even level of opportunity and posse.s-sion, have, by reason of the unjust economic conditions under which tliey have been produced, simply intensified the distress of the situation — wealth is constantly aggregating in ever larger and larger degree, hopeless toil is becoming more and more fixedly the normal condition of the producer, and ignorance and crime more and more the awful environment of the poor. The key to the solution of the problem that is offered by the social reformer is the ultimate reorganization of society upon the principle, not of individual freedom and independence, which is the ideal of the nine- teenth century, but of social inter-responsibility and co-operation. And it is this principle which is now more and more making itself felt in all discussions relating to social reform, and which will from this date for- ward dominate the legislation of the future. The nineteenth century has seen the realization of the hopes of the old-time reformer — the political enfranchisement of the individual ; but the twentieth century will usher in a far grander struggle — grander because involving a far nobler conception of human character, and the realization of far higher principles of human action, than those that have been re(iuired for the fulfilment of the nineteenth century ideal — that is to eay, the struggle for the reorganization of society upon the ideal of co-operative effort and common enjoyment. But as in every reform, much that is evil is necessarily mixed with the aspirations of the honest seeker af*er good, so in this characteristic twentieth century movement towards an ideal social reorganization, it will be found that there is much that is reprehensible ; but the subver- sive theories and vicious methods of the anarchist and nihilist ought not to be confounded with the aims and hopes of the honest and law-abiding II socialist. There are those who, being rightly enough dissatisfied with laws that work unjustly, and take bread from the toiler, to give it sweetened and flavored to the idler, are, however, willing to go to any extieBoe of policy or of action to overturn the existing state of things ; for they believe that in any event the condition of the laboring poor could not be worse, and that should violent deprivation of property or life be accorded to the rich and privileged, it would only be for them a just retribution. Such a creed of despair, while intelligible enough in those that adopt it, can never be countenanced by those who believe that social evolution can best be accomplished by natural processes of develop- ment, and that disruption and violence would only result in hindering that which they were intended to promote. To make the problem clearer, let us detail somewhat more fully (1) what are the ultimate aims and hopes of the social reformer ; (2) what are the less remote objects which the social reformer has in view, and which he considers would be partial approximations towards his ultimate ideal ; and (3) what are those propositions which the social refoimer puts forward as capable of immediate practical realization. I may say in passing, that it will be impossible, in so general a discussion, to keep these three classes of aims wholly distinct; but the division will enable us better to understand the socialistic ideal. First, — The social reformer believes that the present evils of society are due to the prevale.ice of indicilauUsm : that in a social system such as that which obtains at present, the tendency is for capital to aggregate and labor to segregate ; and that therefore the position of the capitalist is getting more and more omnipotent, and that of the laborer more and more precarious and dependent ; and that the ultimate result of this competitive individualism will be, that the condition of the laborer will become intolerable (as indeed it has already become in some measure) and that, as a conseciuence, social disruption and horrible anarchy will inevitably ensue. That this view is not erroneous, our current history everywhere makes plain to us. He further believes that the true social order will be found in the abandonment of individualism, and the substitution of collcrtirigm in its place ; that is, in the eradual reorgavization of society so that the co- operative principle fhall become norma* and universal ; that all who are able shall contribute to the service of society ; that none shall be obliged to contribute more of service than is reijuired for the general gootl of the commonwealth ; and that all shall share in the fruits of associated labor equitahh/ — no one using more than his share, and none desiring more ; and that the highest ideal of life will be the service of society as thus socially organized. There are important corollaries to this position which invite notice, but which must be passed over ; but it may be said that in such an ideal community every one will be a worker, and idling will be un- knowr; that poverty will be unknown; and that crime, such 12 as wo now understand it, will be greatly lessened, for the in- centives to crime, ami the conditions on which crime depends, will be largely removed. No one pretends to say but that, for the present, such an idf al of society i" wholly unattainable ; but nevertheless it is the ideal to which all practical social legislation will henceforth approxi- mate. It is undoubtedly the ideal of society which the apostles and early Christians had in view ; and it is the ideal which many modern Christians not only acknowledge, but do their best to set in being. Moreover, it is the ideal to which much of the restrictive and social legislation, both national and municipal, and of the co-operative com- mercial activity of the last half century or so, have been blindly leading up. As we have seen, the general legislative reform of the nineteenth century has been directed towards the entire political enfranchisement of the individual. When that was accomplished, the doctrine of laissez- faire, that is, of leaving to tlie individual the responsibility of his own welfare and happiness, wa.s supposed by many to be the true principle to follow. liut in opposition to the principle of latsses/aire, of individual- ism, has been the socialistic principle that the general happiness and well-being can oftentimes be best promoted by co-operative action on the part of the community as a wiiole, rather than by the sporadic efforts of individuals. Hence we have had the education of the individual pupil controlled by the public, and paid for by the public. We have had many measures of public sanitation, and soon shall have more of them. We have had the public control and care of the sick and insane, of the infirm and the aged, and of idiots and orphans, and we undoubtedly shall have more and more of such legislation. We have had government inspection of foods and drugs, and artificial manures, and control over the production and sale of spirituous and vinous liijuors. We have had government inspection of factories and workshops, and government control of the conditions of the employment of women and children as laborers. Taking still broaiier views, we see that we have had govern- ment control and management of the postal service ; the control and man- agement of telegraphs and railways in some countries, and the advocacy of the same in all, till there is little doubt that in a few years in all countries the public will own and control not only the postal service, but the railway, telephone, express and all similar services. Even tariff protection, mis-directed and mis-applied as it often is, and mischievously partial in its beneficial ellects, is but another exemplification of a blind groping after socialistic reform. But true socialism is not merely national ; it is cosmopolitan ; and that legislation which is partial in its benefits, and enriches one section of the community at the expense of another, is not truly socialistic — it is an offence against that principle of civilization which most characteristically differentiates humanity from the brute creation — the principle, not that one must struggle with his fellow in order to exist, but that he who exists must help his fellow also to exist. And then, coming to the sphere of municipal legislation, we see 13 that it too of late years hat been increasingly socialistic in its tendencies^ and promises to be; still more so. The providing of police and fire pro- tection, of water supply, of efficient sewerage, of conveniences for street traffic and locomotion, is all of quite common occurrence in almost every mun'oinality ; while, in addition to these public services, are found, in many mu_iicipaUties,the public ownership and control of the conveniences and arrangements for rapid transit, for street and house illumination, and for public amusements and enjoyments. And finally, in those industrial and commercial co-operative organizations which have characterized our last half century or so, such as trades unions, co-operative stores, employers' associations, joint stock organizations, and capitalistic combinations, we see other approximations — ^blind, it is true, oftentimes partial, and sometimes even mischievous^ but none the less real — approximations towards the socialistic ideal. Having now outlined what is the ultimate ideal of the social reformer, and seen that for the present this ideal is practically unrealis- able, although a great deal of our recent legislation and social reform, both national and municipal, as well as much of our industrial and commercial voluntary organization, has been a more or less unwitting approximation to that ideal, we must, secondly, consider what are the objects which the social reformer has more immediately in view, and which for the present he would consider as partial realizations of his ultimate aims. As we have seen, what he urges is — (1) that all means for production, distribution, and exchange, be declared and treated as common property ; and (2) that all operations for producing wealth be regulated by society in the common interests of society. As partial realizations of these principles of social organization, he demands (1) that all land, that all forests, mines and fisheries, that all railways and other means of transit, and that all the other means ol producing wealth when the?e have become, or tend to become, practical monopolies, shall be declared and treated as common property, and shall be managed for the general good of all ; (2) that for the benefit of society all education, whether primary, secondary, or higher, shall be free, and in the true sense of the word, industrial ; that it shall be efficient, and in its primary stage compulsory, and in its secondary and higher stages be the privilege only of the industrious and morally worthy ; and (3) that the administiation of justice and the care of the sick and the decrepit, the imbecile and the insane, be free and gratuitous to all members of society. There are important corollaries to these general claims, which, however, we must pass over without mentioning. In considering, thirdly, those propositions which the practical social reformer of to-day puts forward a^ capable of immediate realization, we will simply mention what is being actually promoted by social reform', rs ol the highest rank in contemporary English politics. In the first place, we have a leading member of the present Conservative government in England advocating legislation by which employers will be held TCFponsible for injuries received by their employees while in their service; bv which entire freedom of combination will be allowed to workmen aa w'oll as to employers: by which the settlement of disputes between labor and capital shall be effected by tribunals and colleges of arbitration ; by which permissible child labor shall be restricted to the age of twelve ; by which there shall be, whenever necessary, absolutely free facilities for industrial, agricultural, and housewifery education ; by which there shall be an universal six days' working week ; by which allotments ol land may be secured to laborers and working people at fair prices ; and, most important of all, by which there shall be a bureau or ministry of labor and industry as a regular department of national government control. This is not much in itself perhaps, but it is a great deal when we consider that it comes from so prominent a member of a Conservative English government as the present Secretary of the Treasury. On the other hand we have a prominent member of the other side of English politics, and a prospective minister of the crown, advocating all this, and besides, compulsory education, free continuative schools and free technical schools of a more advanced grade, practically free higher edu- cation, easy land transfer, a progressive income tax, and an eight-hours day for miners. But while these prospective reforms are found in the programmes of those high in responsible positions and the official leaders of parties, they do not by any means cover the platforms of the rank and file of their socialistic followers. What are practically the working principles of the social reformer of England to-day, may be best gathered from the declared platform of the leaders of the so-called Progressive party, which only a month ago obtained by an overwhelming majority the control of the newly instituted City of London County Council. The leading features of this platform are as follows:— (1). The absolute ownership and control for the benefit of the peo- ple, of all gas works, electric light plants, water works, tramways, street car lines, omnibus lines, docks, markets, and civic monopolies of every sort. It is estimated that the profits that will accrue to the people of London as a result of this municipalization of public services will not be less than £4,000,000 sterling per annum. (2). The municipalization of all lands that may come into the pos- session of the Council; that is the holding of them forever for the benefit of the people. (3). The cumulative rating of incomes, and the assessment of land values and ground rents, and the proportional relief of occupiers from taxation. This provision is an approximation and a very near one to that principle of taxation which is known in this country as the single tax theory. (4). The appropriation to the public civic use of the enormous revenues now derived from ground rents and real estate by the ancient •city guilds — corporations that have long outlived the civic uses for »5 which they were instituted, and which now «pend for the benefit of a few, prodigious wealth that many contribute in earning. (5). The creation of a municipal death duty, somewhat similar to that which has lately been instituted in our own province. (6). The ownership and control of open spaces as parks or playing grounds for the recreation of the people, and the making of all necessary arrangements therein for sports, music, public entertainments, etc. (7). The making of due provision for the erection and management of artisans' dwellings, common lodging houses, and tree night shelters. (8). The establishment of free hospitals in every district, and the contiol of those that already exist; and the establishment and control of free infirmaries and dispensaries. (9). The rigorous enforcement of health laws and the efficient sani- tary and structural inspection of d^rellings and workshops, and the enforcement of the laws regulating the same against the owners. (10). The setting of a good example to all employers of labor by arranging with its own employees for a normal eight hours day and a six days week at trades-union rates of wages; also the abolition as far as possible of the contract system and the substitution therefor of the direct employment of labor. (11) The organization and employment of unemployed labor on useful work at fair rates of wages. (12). The enlargement of the powers of the Council so as to enable it to undertake, when the opportunity seems fit, the organization of industry and distribution, especially in those departments which are concerned with the production of the necessaries of life. This is the most comprehensive programme of socialistic reform that has yet been evolved in the realm of practical politics in the Engiiah speaking world, and there is but little doubt that of the twelve pro- visions enumerated, all but the last will within a very few years become actually realized in the municipal government of the city. It will be admitted too, that taken in its entirety, it forms a very considerable realization of the ultimate ideal of social organization. And when it is remembered that the party avowing this programme either in whole or in great part were elected to power over their opponents with a majority of 84 to 34, and that the leader of the party is Lord Rosebery, a prospective Prime Minister of England, it will be acknowledged that the socialistic idea has come to stay. Having now analyzed that socialistic feature in our nineteenth century progress which must be taken as rather the precursor of an ideal which is to be more fully realized in the twentieth century than as a characteristically nineteenth century phase of social development, I shall next and very briefly indicate what I conceive will be the nature and extent of the sosial development and intellectual progress of that new century into which we are fast entering. With respect to political matters there is much to hope for, much i6 to fear. The tendency of political development is, as we have seen, decidedly socialiBtic — and the next century will undoubtedly be one of far-reaching social and economic readjustments. Whether these be made peaceably and in the due course of an orderly national evolution, or be made anarchically and after terrible etfiision of blood and destruc- tion of wealth, dept>nds, it seems to me, on the readiness with which the so-called middle and upper classes of society — and in a more responsible de^'ree, the educated classes — appreciate the gravity of the problem that is before them and set themselves in the way of solving it. One thing is certain, the attitude of the leaders and responsible guides of society towards social reconstruction must become one of sympathy and interest and intelligent appreciation of the situation, or social war will come upon us as surely as the twentieth century will succeed the nineteenth; perhaps not so soon, but inevitably, sooner or later. Al- ready in every large centre of population the professed anarchist is found ready with dynamite and bomb to bring down our civilization like a house of cards about our ears. Everywhere in large industrial communi- ties the policy of despair of the nihilist has infected, not merely the ignorant lower classes but the educated wage-earning classes, and like an insidious zymotic disease with terrible contagion is undermining the morals and the patriotic sentiments of those who not long ago were wont to be called the brawn and sinew of society. When 1 tell you that in a journal published in this city, anarchy and anarchical methods have not only been countenanced but actually commended and recommended, not merely once, but again an 1 again, aa the only way social grievances can be redressed, you will agree with me that it is time that the educated thoughtful people, not merely of England and the United States, but of Canada, Ontario, and Toronto, set themselves to understand the social problems of the time and put themselves in the way of effecting their solution. The social reformer of to-day is as much deserving of con- temporary praise as ever Pym or Hampden, or Russell or Sydney, or Grey or Cobden or Bright, have deserved posthumous praise. But un- fortunately, as has too often been the case with reformers from time im- memorial, he is looked upon with disfavor ; people call him a crank ; they shrug their shoulders at him as he passes; they are ashamed to be seen in his company; and they confound him with anarchists and desperadoes. But let me tell you, ladies and gentlemen, if you want to put yourselves in harmony with your environment in this twentieth cen- tury that is to be, you must become socialists in spirit and sympathy, if not in profession; and if Christ and His apostles were socialists surely you can afford to be so also. Contemporaneous with the socialistic evolution of the next century, and indeed a necessary complement of it, will be the gradual obliteration of lines of national demarcation, the gradual extension of the areas of international unrestricted trade, the gradual reduction of stant'ing armies and extensive naval armaments, and the substitution therefor of inter- national tribunals for the settlement of international disputes. Indeed I? Ihe union of all the English-speaking peoj'le of the globe in one inter- national federation for free trade, uniform postal facilities, reciprocal copyright and patent law privileges, the extinction of slavery, the pro- tection of the autonomy of weak nations, and the settlement by reference to a common supreme tribunal of all international difficulties, is not merely a dream, but the hope of many statesmen of to-day. When we come to estimate the development that will be made in the twentieth century along those lines of practical invention and ?cien- titic discovery that have so wonderfully characterized this nineteenth century, we must stand with uncovered heads in reverential awe of that which shall be. This has been an age of iron and steam ; the next will be an age of steel and electricity — perhaps, too, of some more subtle force, for already scientists are telling us to expect the liberation and utilization of that m)'sterious power which binds the cfiemical elements together and'holds the quivering atoms in their molecular orders — per- haps, too, it may be of some more obvious force, such as that of gravity, solar heat, or the motions of the tides. This has been an a^'e when men have been fearful for our stores of coal an i wood ; but the next age will for wood use paper, the vegetable product of an annual harvest, or alu- minum, the most abundant of our metallic stores, and soon to be the cheapest, and perhaps in storage boxes gather for winter use the heat of the summer sun now lost in radiation. This has been an age of steam- ships and railways : but scarcely any scientist now doubts that before many years the problem of aerial navigation will be solved, and that the traffic of the world will be moved along frictionless paths of air in bird- like shallops, skimming the surface of land and sea like summer swal- lovvs. This has been an age of telegraphs, and telephones, and phono- graphs, marvellous devices that convey our thought^ and our very voices from place to place through mysterious but definite conduits ; but the wizard, Edison, promises us telegraphic communication through space alone ; and even that strange transmission of intelligence known as tele- jiathy, is being scientifically investigated, and who shall say without prospect of solution of its mystery ? And so we might go on enumerat- ing other like wonderful contrasts between this age and the next, sug- gested by no wild fancy but rather by a sober discernment of what is sure to be ; but we have said enough to show that there is much reason for believing that as Newton said of the ocean of knowledge that lay before him, so we in this nineteenth century are but as children playing with the pebbles on the shore of that unknown sea of scientific law and material resource which the more inventive and the more practical scien- tific workers and investigators of the twentieth century will in all prob- ability sail proudly over as skilled and experienced navigators. He would be a bold prophet who would attempt to foretell what will be the course of religious development in the next hundred years to come. And yet the problem is of the utmost consequence, not only to the individual but also to the social organism ; for it will be denied by no one, not even by the avowed sceptic, that the religious emotions of i8 the people are most potent factors in the evolution of social conduct ; while on the other hand the relation of religion to ethics is of prime importance to the educator in the preparation of the pupil for the duties of citizenship. But the problem is difficult in every way. On the one hand we have a set of crystalized forms of belief which have beon more or less adhered to for centuries, and which to day millions of earnest and devout hearts reverently subscribe to and are ready to lay down their lives for. On the other hand there is undoubtedly, especially in the higher circles of thought ami culture, a restlessness of enquiry and in- vestigation, manifesting itself not only in the bolder scepticism of the avowed atheist, the honest doubt of the agnostic, the rationalism of the 80-called higher schools of criticism, or even in the practical deism of that widespread half-confessed unitarianism which is found in so much of our current literature ; but also in those continuous and universal dis- cussions that are going on in the churches everywhere, not merely in the ranks of the scholarly and critical, but also among the unlearned — discus- sions, for example, as to the value and nature of the atonement, the validity of the sacrament of the eucharist, the obligatoriness anil effect- iveness of baptism, the duration of future punishment, the priesthood of the ministry, the interpretation of prophecy, the plenary character of in- spiration, and the like. Again, un the one hand, is to be reckoned the wonderful reality of religion as an impelling and sustaining social force, manifesting itself in the enormous activity of the cluirches in their magnificent efforts in self-extension, missionary conquest, and philan- thropic Well-doing of every sort. On the other hand, there must be taken into account what must be truthfully described as the irreligion of the age, its practical discrediting of its own beliefs. I speak not here of the idleness, the self-indulgence, the levity of purpose and pursuit, the apathy of feeling and callousness to human suffering and want, that largely characterize the wealthy privileged classes in every country ; nor of that sordid and gross immorality and criminal lawlessness that dominate the existence of the degraded poor in areas of congested popu- lation ; but I speak of the selfishness and the self-seeking, the jealousies and envies, the lack of fair-mindedness, and the inability to see things from the points of view of others, that all too conspicuously mark the lives and characters of the men and women of the great middle classes — cultured men and women, church-going men and women, the class of men and women whom we meet every day, and of whom we may say that we ourselves form a part. And of this practical irreligiousness of the age we may be sure the opponents and doubters of Christianity are not slow to take due note. The rational explanation, however, is, that it is simply the natural result of that selfish individualism upon which, as we have seen, our present social, political, and economic lines of action are so largely based ; and of the departure from those principles of co-operative ell'ort, mutual responsibility, and common enjoyment, which Christianity as instituted lay Christ and His Apostles, enjoina upon us. '9 Despite all this incoherency of belief, an>l inconsistency of practice, religion is a far too firmly ineradicable principle in the human heart to be ignored in any discussion as to prospective social development; but unless Christian ppople can agree among themselves, and unite in pre- senting their principles in a compact and coherent body of truth, self- explanatory and self-sustaining, commending itself al'ke to the faith of the believer and to the intellect of the doubter, the probability is that Christianity as an organized system of religious propagandism will become more and more disintegrated, and therefore less and less potent, as a factor in our social development. On the other hand if a sufficient number of Christian principles be gathered together to form a sufficiently firm ground of universal belief upon which may be basad the ethical instruction of children and the ethical guidance of men and women, and if professed Christians will see, too, that their own lives and characters are in deed and in truth, and not merely in name, guided and moulded according to these principles, then there li'iU be hope for believing that Christianity will constantly become more and more the dominant force in our social development, and that society will finally become organized entirely in harmony with its principles. This last ideal is, as I stated in the former part of this address, the hope of the so-called Christian socialist of to-day; but, as it seems to me, unfortunately for the realizition of his hope, instead of endeavoring to find out those basal principles of his creed which will commend them- selves to the race, and thereby form a sure ground for ethical instruction and practice upon which to build his social structure, he is endeavoring to impose upon society a church polity and a body of religious belief \vhich, at least in its entirety, so far as my observation leads me to decide, the great mass of society will never accept. Again with respect to that second class of religionists to which I have referred, namely, those who attach little importance to the Church as an organized and concrete body controlling society, but whose main hope of the salvation of society lies in the acceptance by the individual of some definite creed, which by its vivifying power will save him from the thraldom and consequences of sin and produce in him the fruits of righteousness, thus making him a typical social unit, — I conceive that they are too divided among themselves, too unsettled in their tenets, too unestablished in their apologetics, to afford any likelihood that they can unite and co-operate as a unifying social organization leavening society universally with its principles, or that they can hope to have society uni- versally base its ethical principles and rules of conduct upon the sanc- tions of their creeds, — unless indeed these can be made simpler, more self- coherent, and more universally acceptable to the outside world, than at present they seem to be. Aud, thirdly, with respect to that remaining class of religionists, namely those who care principally for the fruits of righteousness, and less anxiously for the particular form or phase of belief upon which these fruits are produced and nurtured, one must recognize that they do 20 not of themselves form any definite and coherent body; that they are rather the more or less loosely attached adherents of one or otlier of the two preceding classes; and that as they have no corporate capacity and no corporate opinion they can scarcely be considered as likely to be a stable factv^r in social development; and that though undoubtedly they will always exist, and perhaps, too, in ever increasing numbers, it cannot be until they have found ecme common bond of union, some definite ground of opinion and principle upon which to base their ethical teach- ing and their rules of ethical conduct, that they can expect to exert that influence in the social development of the race, which undoubtedly their beneficent work and high ideils entitle them to. I have said enough to show that the question as to what will be the religious development of the future is one of infinite difficulty; and though I by no means desire to speak in the matter except with the utmost rev- erence and caution, it seems right to say, so far as one can now predict, that the course of the evolution of religious ideals during the next cen- tury will be the gradual inter-approximation of all the three types described, to one ; and that the final evolution will be an all-embracing and all-pervading organization, dominating the whole social organism b)' its principles, and devoted to the service of humanity after the divinest ideals finally conceivable. I trust, moreover, that all thoughtful people who have listened to me will recognize that it is important that all who have the well-being of the race at heart will look upon the ({uestion boldly, and give to its solution the best that they have of personal in- fluence for good, honest opinion, calm reflection, and unprejudiced judg- ment, knowing as we all must, that the ethical status of the race, which, as we have seen, is so closely identified with its religious instincts, is of all mundane things, its most important concern. Having now sketched at f^nsiderable length it must be confessed, but with an incompleteness I am quite sensible of, the social and intel- lectual development of the past one hundred years, including the general political aspect of it, the industrial and scientific aspect of it, and the re- ligious aspect of it, and having indicated what I conceive will be the intellectual and social development of the next hundred years, and shown that in all probability the twentieth century will be an age of marvellous scientific advancement and practical invention, and that its political, economic, and religious life will be dominated by the socialistic and Chris- tian ideal of co-operative action and common enjoyment, it lemains for me, all too briefly, to sketch what I conceive ought to be the relation of our educational methods and general educational system to this domi- nant principle of social progress. It would have been a proper and interesting step to have shown, before entering upon this final part of my discussion, that proud as we are of our educational system, prouder perhaps in this province than elsewhere on the face of the globe, it has always been an anachronism, and has by no means kept pace with the social development or the intel- 21 Ipctual development, of the race. Our public school system, tliat is, in respect to its curriculum, has never been superior to what ou<;ht to have existed in the last century ; in fact, since its tiro^, institution it lias made no progress at all comparable witli its privileges. Its methods of teach- ing, though improved to some extent in late years, are still based on prmciples that date at any rate from Milton's time. Our university system has been held in bond-slavery to an ideal which came into the world five centurie* ago, and which, one would have supjtosed, those intervening years of vast intellectual acijuisition and scientific discovery would have done something, long ere this, towards subverting. And our university methods of teaching, until within the last decide or two, have been as unchanging and unchangeable as those languages and literatures upon which they have for the most part been exercised. If we seek for the cause of this continuous anachronism we shall find it to lie in the want of that social ideal which the twentieth century will crown with honor, and which, as we have seen, this nineteenth century has done something towards exalting. We must not forget that our system of public school education, even on this continent, is scarcely more than a half century old as yet, and that in England it is but a thing of yesterday. But our universities we have had from time immemorial. These, however, instead of being ordered for the benefit of the many, have been maintained in the interest of the few. To social progress they have ever been indifferen'j if not averse. In the general diffusion of knowlftdge they have felt no sympathy and taken no interest. Even in the furtherance of scientific discovery they have lagged far behind the private investigator. Every new department of scientific knowledge that has come into the world has had to fight its way into the university preserves, and has been the object of class prejudice and academic disdain. The young pedant who, by dint of yeo-- of undivided attention had learned to read in their original Greek and L. '\, narratives, a few more or less mythical chronicles of the fights -id othe. boastful achievements of the semi-civilized, though undoubt- eu^j '"*"ere.' "ng, peoples of two thousand years ago, was, by virtue of this lini^i..' c drill and acquaintance with semi-prehistoric affairs, supposed to e equipped fur all the duties of responsible modern citizen- ship ; while he was taught to look down with scorn or contempt upon the education of him who, instead, had gained some insight into those forces of nature by whose utilization the world is made more habitable and life made better woi|;h living, or had given himself to the study of social problems as recorded in history or contemporary treatises ; and the crown of academic honor was thought to be achieved when such an one had read a few of the old-world poets and philosophers, and had learned to write their languages without obvious grammatical errors, although undoubtedly perforce in a way that would have been none the less ridiculous to those old-timo worthies, and this perhaps without being required to know anything about the poetry or philosophy of his own time, or to study the diction of the masters of style in his 32 own tongue. I do not wish to disparage this ideal of education ; for I think I am as sensible as any one of what it has done in training some of our most gifted thinkers and forcible and exact writers ; but at the same time it is hard to speak of it without contempt when one realizes how partial, how one-sided, how incomplete in every way it was, how wholly inadequate as a training for citizenship, how ill-suited as a course of general study, despite the excellence of its results in many special cases. When one realizes that the ideal of higher education, here hurriedly referred to, is the one that until very recently had universal sway, and thereupon reflects how utterly out of touch with the achievements of our modern, social, and intellectual progress such an ideal was, one has no ditliculty in seeing why our public school course has been from the very first a laggard in the path of progress ; how it began by being a far-olf and skeleton-like imitation of the University ideal — reading, writing,and arithmetic, taught by rule of thumb ; grammar, a collection of memor- ized rules ; geography, a topographical directory, without the advantage of alphabetic arrangement ; a little ancient history, mostly mythical ; a little modern history, mostly dates, and battles, and the births and deaths of kings ; and a little Biblical history, to give it the salt of anti- secularism, of an equally valueless kind. Such was the public school curriculum to which not the oldest of us were fiist introduced in our edu- cational career. Then as the lifeless character of this mere parody of education began to be perceived, a movement of progress ensued, and let us say it with thankfulness, progress of a most excellent sort. For the irrational memorization of rules and isolated facts has been substituted in many schools, but I regret not in all, an approximation to the inductive rr.ethod ; — the study of grammar, for example, as an aid to expression, and an attempt to bring the dry facts of history and geography into some sort of vital connection with the human interests of the everyday life of the pupil. But like every movement which is a mere reaction, and one not correlated to some dominant principle, this progress has been re- stricted in its area, and has been pushed to too great a length. To make plain what I mean, I would say, that instead of adapting our primary course of instruction to the social instincts of our time, instead oi making it harmonize, even ever so faintly, with the scientific and intellectual en- vironment of our age, the several parts of the old inadeyle8 piimary education and higher education, there i:i the great demnment o( secondary eJacafion, of which I have not hitheitj sail a word, and can even now say no more than to asseit that what has been said of the so-called lower and higher grades of edunation, applies with equal force, mutatis viutandis, to secondary education. In addition, there are the important subjects of physical training, manual ttaining, and art education, all of which should have their due place in a sy&tem of ;_'eneral public educbtioii, and all of which, as factors of the normal educative process, are of the utmost consequence to the social well-being. It would have been an interesting discussion to see what the place of these subjects is in the public education system, and how they can best be provided for ; but I musrt pats ovei the whole matter in silence. Then there are the questions of industrial tecJmical education, and of professional education, as distinct from the system of general public education. These also I must i)ass over in tilence, except to say that I can conceive of no educational question more impoitant than that of in- dustrial technical education, or one of more consequence to the 8tate,either as now constituted or as when constituted on a more highly developed social plan. The question of professional education is not so pressing, and is only interesting in respect to its relation to the reorganization of society on a higher social basis. But with respect to industrial technical schools, and supplementary industrial schools, in all impoitant centres of population, both urban and rural, it must be remarked that the sooner they are instituted and got into efficient working order, as paits of our national educational scheme — schools for wood-work, schools for metal- work, schools for textile- work, schools for needle-work and schools for cookery, schools for the field, the stock-yard, the orchard and garden, — the better it wi^l be lor society both as now constituted, and as organized upon the higher models which we may well be sure the twentieth century will realize for us. I had intended also to discuss what I consider to be some inherent weaknesses in our present education system — its superficiality on the one hand, its proneness to specialism on the other ; also to discuss somewhat critically the effect upon the quality of the education-product, both in its intellectual and in its moral aspects, of the ever-growing preponderancy of women- teachers as compared with men-teachers; and I had thought also of discussing the relation of education to the upbuilding of character, tor despite the fact that so much is said and written on this subject, it is in my opinion much misunderstood, and the formative value of rational educational methods too much underestimated. All these questions aie related to my theme, but they must all be ignored. In conclusion, I have but one wish, which I utter with all earnest- ness, and that is, that the intelligent men and women of to day, the earnest and thoughtful men and women of to-day, especially those of them who may be privileged to see the dawn of the tv/entieth century 31 that is so soon to be, will betake themselves to the study of society not from the standpoint of the individual as a microcosm in himself, which is selfishness, but from the standpoint of the individual as part of an organic whole, which is righteousness. The doctrine of the common possession of goods and benefits, and of individual responsibility for the common welfare, which the first apostles of Christianity believed in and lived according to, may be too altruistic for practical realization to-day • but surely, it is an ideal which the Christian teacher and the Chiistian dis- ciple may alike honor and pay heed to. It is, as I have tried to make plain, the ideal which the social forces of the twentieth century, as well as those of the closins years of the nineteenth, will fast push to the front as the one for practical striving after and approximating to. But it must not be forgotten that a'ong with many legitimate and self-restrained forces of social reform, whose influence for good the discerning will commend and only ignorance or stupidity seek to restrain, there are many other more or less lawless forces whose influence is wholly for social disruption, under the mistaken belief that out of teriible evil good may more speedily come. If you cannot see any loveliness in the social ideal that the honest reformer is endeavoring to put before you, you surely ought to be alarmed at the hideous travesty of social organization which the anarchist is everywhere threatening to impose upon our civilization. In every European city out-ide of Biitain, and in almost every American city, the bomb thrower and the dynamiter are actively prosecuting their infamous work ; and even in Britain his baneful principles are by no means un- known. We, fortunately, live in a peaceful city where Christian influences are at their be&t, and in a peaceful country abounding in natural resources and blessed with an order-abiding, right-loving population ; but as I have said before, even in this Christian city of Toronto, the policy of dynamite and violent disruption have again and again been publicly advocated. To me it seems to be a terribly serious question, and one that people have to declare themselves on — either to be on the side of ostrich-like persistency in stupidly shutting one's eyes to danger in the fancy that the danger is thus averted, while in reality it is coming nearer and nearer; or else to be on the other side, and by making wise concessions in time, so save society from ruin. Therefore, as educators, responsible for the instruction of the future members of our commonwealth, and charged by virtue of your official positions and your social status as highly intelligent men and women with the due ordering of that instruction so as to ensure the best results to the commonwealth, I appeal to you to lend your influence in making this education system of ours what, in all points, it ought to be, the best possible means of preparation of the youth of our country for the duties of citizenship — in harmony as absolute as possible with their future intel- lectual environment, and with an adaptation as perfect as possible to that high ideal of social organization which will dominate the century that is so soon to be.