ness, the tangible terrors of his hell, sum up the beliefs of his contemporaries, and of an age which yet bears in all its movements, evidence of growing faith in the divine mission of humanity. So the religious idea of the time manifests itself in Dante with his profound sympathy and eternal sorrow, in Gothic architecture with its weird beauty and endless aspiration, in Leonardo and Raffaelle and Michael Angelo, painters of the Passion and of the Resurrection.

I have said, that could the Christian ideal find as complete embodiment as did the classic, its art would rise higher, but that even through a form of such adaptability and power as poetry, it still fails of any representation, at all adequate; to a certaim extent, the same thing is true of our educational systems. Any true form must aim, like the classics, at the culture of the individual man, and not except, incidentally, at the training of the citizen; but the harmonious rounding of the whole nature, which was to the Greeks a matter of comparative ease, becomes so exceedingly difficult in our times that even the attempt is scarcely to be recognized. The exaltation of the mental and spiritual, renders the accord of mind and body so difficult that their harmony, even if aimed at vaguely in our systems of training, is too generally regarded as an impossibility to receive much attention in a way to secure practical results. The consequence is, that willing and doing are so separated that the body becomes the mere slave of the mind, taking too often, in the very meridian of life, fearful slave's vengeance.

Manifold contradictions, arising from our complexity of civilization, reflect themselves in both art and culture, which, without a high and sustaining confidence in the soul's eternal destiny, leave the mind of him who would attempt their solution forever in the realm of uncertainty. Divided as the modern world in large measure is, between those who live under the dominion of intellectual authority and those who, declaring themselves emancipated, have, in their search for truth, been satisfied with its appearance, and who, with the best intentions, have produced in the moral order discord alone, it is sufficiently evident that an art form, which in any fair manner reflects the time, will attempt the representation either of one of these phases of thought, or of a combination of the two. The perfect representation is only possible through the finding of a universal which shall contain each particular, effecting in art the reconciliation which a true philosophy effects in thought.

Our artists stand related to us in a manner differing widely from that in which classic artists stood in their age. The classic artist was satisfied to represent what he saw, and to see what the rest of mankind saw, the artist who would adequately represent the spirit of today must do infinitely more. He must look through and beyond the outward phase of things into the spirit which our modern education rather conceals than exhibits, and for the spirit thus recognized in its completeness we must devise a form more adequate than that which nature, in the adverse conditions of modern civilization, is competent to give. He thus becomes an interpreter to man of humanity. Greek tragedy, when compared with Romantic, exhibits the difference admirably. The one depends wholly upon action. A certain deed, almost apart from the motives in which it originates, brings down a certain punishment. Take a drama of Shakespeare. The tragedy is contained in the characters, and is therefrom developed. Shakespeare has no

concrete real life form which he may imitate; out of scattered material he creates a new universe, through which runs a divine purpose and which is subject to divine laws. Göthe, in his way, does the same thing; he finds, however, in the culture of the individual, a cure for all the incongruities of life, and hence returns to the classic theory of education which he informs with his clearer insight. Shakespeare and Göthe stand to their age, not so much in the character of representatives as of interpreters and teachers. The mass of the so-called art of our day represents many different phases of activity, but sums up nothing, interprets nothing, teaches nothing; it has no clearness and no certainty. The very real difficulties which beset every human being in his way through life, seem imperatively to demand that he be at least left free to deal with those difficulties fully and fairly unaffected by the morbid self-questionings or the religious sentimentalism, or the perverted ideas of duty which abound in popular poems and novels, and from which genius itself is not always free. True art has no office with the abnormal or the diseased; it is founded upon and must return for inspiration to nature. whose whole effort is toward the restoration of order and health. The end of intelligent effort in life is to bring man into harmony with the divine purpose of creation; to make man capable of such effort is the aim of all true education; to represent this harmony is the aim of all true art. Without this fixed central point, all labor must fail, and no attempted art can really hold the mirror up to nature. This fact our artists frequently fail to realize. Even where current forms are not false, they are but partial, and each work is limited through its author's limitations, which, whether they be ours or not, yet leave the work essentially valueless.

The same influences which have tended, in our civilization, to bring about this baneful result in art, this attempt to get at the essence of things from the outside through observation of phenomenal phases, with the doubt and consequent sadness which must follow the inevitable failure, have also, in like manner, affected our educational systems, and have led us to forget, sometimes, that all our training can do nothing more for man than to develop his nature from within.

The people who have really thought out the problem of life for themselves are very few, and until their number is greater, educational systems must in most places be constantly endangered, since they will be ignorantly attacked and as ignorantly defended-adopted without sufficient reason and abandoned without sufficient cause. Uncertainty as to the end must involve uncertainty as to the means. Separation of willing from doing all our attempts at art suggest, and to a considerable extent present systems of all kinds foster. Appeal to reason we must, but let us prepare it for the appeal.

Nor must we forget, that if the artistic work of our own generation is most of it barren of good results, either as an epitome of the age, or as an instructor and guide, to the real spirit of this time no true art form can be alien, whether it belongs to the age of Pericles or the age of Elizabeth; whether it be revealed in architecture or in sculpture, in painting or in poetry. In each we are to search for the true spiritual significance, measuring ourselves against its height. The work of art in individual education, it is hard to overestimate. It inspires and elevates at the same time that it urges to achievement; it offers reconcilement for the contradictions of life, and opens

to the weary and the sad, a realm of pure joy and perfect freedom, in which may be satisfied the spirit's profound needs.

We have endeavored, then, to show, in a sense historically, that the free human spirit, eternal in its destiny, has sought throughout the ages, to comprehend itself and to realize its own mission; that in the degree to which this self-realization has been attained, man has directed his efforts at education wisely, and has represented the ideal in art successfully. We have tried further to show that this self-realization, involving, as it must, culture and progress, is sensibly affected by art in its reflex influence; that losing in those materialistic ages which follow close upon periods of highest development, its purely spiritual hold upon the ideal, it is constantly recalled thereto by its own representatives; that true art—being such by virtue of its embodiment of universal principles-appeals through its universality to subsequent times as to its own, and becomes to each more and more an interpreter and a teacher—more and more completely reconciling the human and the divine; more and ever more completely freeing man from the "blank misgivings of a creature moving about in worlds not realized."

Dr. J. R. Buchanan, of Kentucky, followed with a paper on

FULL-ORBED EDUCATION.

Iconoclastic reformers are often tempted to criticise society, and the barbarism which still exists, even in the brightest light of modern civilization. But after their scorn has been expressed in the strong language prompted by a sense of justice, a calmer and deeper style of thought suggests that some other feeling than anger is more appropriate—that scorn for our fellow-beings is not a noble or religious sentiment-and that the constitution of man is the highest known display of Divine wisdom-that the possibilities of his nature are divine possibilities, and the plan of his organization a divine plan, the true grandeur of which has never yet been fully realized.

To conceive these plans and possibilities we should look at man as his creator did, from the interior of his nature, and not from its exterior aspect of reaction against adverse elements, as seen in history during his progressive development. This interior study of man is vastly more hopeful and pleasing, more brilliant and more philosophically true; than the empirical study which simply observes what men have been, and what nations have achieved.

It is the business of education, in its full power and dignity, to realize this divine ideal so far as possible in the actual man, and to be content with nothing less. Not that we can in this century anticipate that higher organization which coming centuries are sure to produce, but that we can, if we have a just conception of our duty, attain something like that spiritual power and perfection, which would rival the physical power and perfection of the accomplished gymnast, on whom we look with admiration. This much, at least, we should seek, and I think something more; for the range of man's spiritual development is not limited like that of his body by the rigorous laws of matter, and the difference between a great and a puny soul is greater than the differences in men's bodies.

There is much to criticise in the systems of education now in vogue, which are gradually emerging from the shadows of the dark ages and becoming rational; but instead of undertaking so tedious and ungracious a task, let us look at education as it should be, and therefore as it must be hereafter.

I take it for granted that no intelligent teacher doubts the proper function of education to be the complete development of man. The methods of that complete development are not yet fully understood, and its practicability in our schools and colleges is not clearly seen by many-but the old traditional notion that Education is nothing more than a cultivation of the intellect by text-books, or by any other means, is not even worthy to be mentioned in this enlightened assembly.

All that man attains is attained by growth; and growth is a process which can be fostered or retarded. The tree may be dwarfed until it occupies only a little box in the house, or fostered until like the giant trees of California it becomes the grandest feature of the landscape.

The function of education being development or promotion of the growth of everything that is desirable, our first question as educators should be, what are the powers of man which need cultivation, and the second,-what are the best means of efficient cultivation which are available?

The view which I derive from scientific Anthropology does not differ from the most obvious suggestions of common sense, viz;-that man has a fourfold division of his nature or faculties. 1st, the intellectual; 2d, the moral; 3d, the executive or practical; and 4th, the physiological. This is the order in which they have arisen before the literary mind for recognition and for education. The intellectual is attended to; the moral is not entirely ignored; but the practical and physiological are still deplorably in need of a bold advocacy of their just claims.

The object of this paper is to advocate the equal claims of all four-to assert that the public should firmly demand, and that we as educators should concede and prepare to give the full fourfold development of man-that collegiate institutions should turn out not merely learned men or cultivated men, or literary adepts, irrespective of their moral character, irrespective of their capacity for the business of life or for any success-irrespective of their physiological perfection or capacity to live long enough to make their life something more than a failure-but men, complete in all things, of whom success can be predicted with certainty-who are amply supplied with useful and ornamental knowledge, whose moral nature is so full, so strong, and so well trained, as to make their arrival a good fortune to the community that receives them-whose practical knowledge of the productive arts, and executive ability enable them to enter at once upon the business of their lives, and take rank above all who have not had a similar education— men whose constitutions have been so trained and improved as to justify the prediction that their longevity will exceed that of their ancestors, and that their whole lives will be lives of usefulness and happiness. Such is the meaning of "full-orbed education," which fills out each quadrant in the vast circle of humanity.

It is obvious that the limits of a paper here do not admit the consideration of each of the fourfold divisions, nor even of a full synopsis of the principles and practicabilities of one. I can but present this thesis, which I shall hereafter maintain before the public in a systematic work-that any system of

education is defective which does not perfect the fourfold development of its pupil-which does not as far as possible guarantee four things. 1st, his health and longevity; 2d, his practical success in business; 3d, his honorable, beneficial, and happy life; and 4th, his independent, sound, and correct reasoning, based upon an ample fund of knowledge.

Practical and hygienic education are excluded from our consideration by want of time. Intellectual education is in a deeply interesting state of progress, and the principles which I have maintained for forty years are no longer treated as visionary, but have thousands of enlightened supporters who are fast procuring their adoption. There is a vast interval of progress between the first general educational convention, which I attended at Cincinnati in 1833, when Peers and Grimke, Weld, Kinmont and Alexander Campbell were in the field, and the large enlightened assemblies of to-day. Feeling quite sure that the enlightened teachers of America will consummate rapidly the revolution in intellectual education which is now in progress, and give to posterity not only more valuable knowledge but better, bolder, and truer thinking than the past has known, I invite your attention to that which just now seems most immediately important, and most in need of revolutionary thought-the importance, the necessity, and the practicability of MORAL EDUCATION.

No one will deny that moral education is desirable and necessary, or that to a certain extent it is practicable. But beyond any claim that has been made in its behalf, I affirm that moral education, as it should be, is fully as practicable as intellectual education, and is also much more important. If then, it is equally practicable and more important, why are not our schools and colleges pre-eminently devoted to making moral attainments, instead of being so exclusively devoted to intellectual progress? Why is it supposed possible through education to remove ignorance and develop intellectual power, and not considered equally possible by education to remove crime, abolish the necessity for jails, and develop a moral power that shall lead and elevate society? That it is equally possible is so clear to me that I am even tempted to speak of it as self-evident-for intellectual education is simply an increase of the power of the intellectual faculties by normal culture and growth, attended by an improvement in their physical organs-an improvement in the nerve structure and circulation of the frontal brain; and moral education (mutato nomine) is exactly parallel, being an increase of the moral faculties by normal culture and growth, attended by an improvement in their physical organs-in the nerve structure and circulation of the superior portions of the brain, which we know by decisive experiments in vivisection (fortified by my own experiments on the living man) has not physiological but only the higher psychic functions.

Yet notwithstanding exact parallelism and equality in the phenomena, the law and the philosophy-the great educational institutions of the world are entirely intellectual institutions, and sometimes even less than intellectual, merely literary institutions. They are never ethical alone, they are never as much devoted to ethical as to intellectual progress-they never recognize the equal claims of ethical development. They do not even have any distinct conception of an ethical purpose, except in occasional reading about ethics, in provision for religious services, and the enforced observance of the good habits which are necessary to the existence of such institutions,