bibliography of child-study that the pedagogic world even in remote, colonial lands, seeks guidance, information, and solution. Few really scholarly and helpful papers that have attracted general attention or exerted wide influence within the last few years have not been for the most part, consciously or unconsciously, based upon genetic data, that is, upon the empirical studies. of childhood. The influence of this work is profoundly felt in several departments of medicine, particularly in the milder and contagious diseases of children and in the forms of adolescent and sex perversion. Some medical schools are even beginning to offer courses for the training of school physicians. This work is slowly revolutionizing the methods of religious training of the young in the various Sunday schools. Juvenile crime is now a specialty, and its library is the literature of child-study. Philology has found in the study of language of children a field fertile with new problems. And even the study of the human soul in the college and university is being slowly revolutionized. Genetic knowledge is the most perfect type of knowledge, and the best and only scientific definition of anything is a full description of its stages of growth. Insightful and ambitious students of education are now everywhere demanding this knowledge, as the best investment of time and money, to equip themselves for educational leadership.

This is the only science that teachers, by furnishing data, have materially contributed to create and advance. Thus it is in good part your work and you can do yet more for it if you will, for it was never advancing so fast as now and never in greater need of your aid. Careful laboratory work now summarized by Judd, and especially by Huey, has placed the question of textbook type and length of line on a scientific basis, with great economy for eyes, space, and cost. Lay, Neumann, Dewey, and Phillips have solved problems of elementary number-work and taken them out of the field of non-expert discussion. Stern and his school have formulated the norms of error and success in observational and object-lesson work. Thus too, in a dozen special studies, age curves for the reading interest of boys and girls are now plotted. Starbuch, Leubar, Dawson, and others have established important laws for the religious interests and capacities of the young. The manifold and profound changes of adolescence are now, to some extent, an open book to those who wish to read of them; and Crampton's new norms of psychological age have far-reaching practical applications in grading. Even the methods of history and geography are beginning to appear. The problem of measuring general ability, baffling as it is, already reveals at least some of its dimensions. In drawing, the way is pointed out very clearly, and where antiquated systems were not too firmly intrenched has wrought a wondrous change; and the same is true of school music. In moral education, perhaps the greatest and most important of all pedagogic questions, we see the way and lack only the courage to walk in it. We have formulated the rationale of plays and games, and new methods are already being put into operation in the great playground movement. Hodge in Nature Study and Jewell in Juvenile

Agricultural Education have blazed a well-graded pathway. Tanner, Kirkpatrick, Swift, O'Shea, and others have written texts that should be in every thoughtful teacher's hands. The founder of the juvenile court tells me that our literature has been the lamp to his feet. The dancing movement from the kindergarten to the university gymnasium is based on genetic principles and so is the children's theater, which is only the crest of the great dramatic wave now advancing over the world; and the story-tellers' league, with five-thousand members and branches in most cities, looks to child-study for its justification. The work of the society for moral prophylaxis, which seeks to prevent vice among the young and which was represented by the significant congress of Mannheim, the proceedings of which have recently appeared, rests on special, statistical studies of young men by Cohn and others, as to the prevalence of vice and venereal disease. In English and language-work, our norms are well defined, though as yet but little operative; in high-school physics, the last three textbooks mark a distinct new departure against the excessive, mathematical tendency that has steadily reduced the percentage taking this study during the last ten years. In the blind and calamitous high-school Latin cult, the faint beginnings of reaction to normality that reserves Latin for those who can go far enough to profit by it are discernible. English literature is still hag-ridden by philology, in our universitized high schools and colleges. In the training of Indians and Philippinos, we can point to the new pedagogy suggested by Coffin's study of the indigenous education of the lower races. In the feminization problem, child-study can only show what might, could, would, or should be done, but reform is yet impracticable; while in the vast and impending question of industrial education, we can only show a few preliminary studies on child-labor, etc. Here we are, so far, as powerless to suggest adequate steps to be taken as are all the others. In the training of blind, deaf, and subnormals, we have clear and consistent policies, methods,

etc.

But child-study is vaster than all these applications to pedagogy. Teachers as such see but a small part ofi ts field; and even those who give their time to it now have to specialize in some portion of this large domain. Best of all, perhaps, we are working out the answer to the great question "What Is a Child?" We know that he is neither the congenitally depraved being Calvin thought, nor a Wordsworthian little deity trailing clouds of glory direct from heaven, all pure and good. We know that children are not so desirable as to be wanted in unlimited numbers, especially if they be the spawn of families like the Jukes; nor are they to he especially prevented by mothers who prefer society to the nursery. The child is first of all a bunch of keys, large and small, capable of unlocking most of the secrets of the entire history of life; a few of the keys are lost, some distorted, some locks are rusty or not yet found; but for science, the child is geologic ages older than the man. Adult traits of body and soul are novelties lately added, new and less substantial stories built on ancient foundations. Hence the child is not so much the father of man as

is every remote, primitive ancestor. The human infant is a very unique specimen of human nature, a relic or memento of a past vastly older than recorded in history. Under the guidance of Mother Nature, he is climbing daily, at first with almost break-neck speed, up the uncounted rungs of the evolutionary ladder, the bottom of which rests deep in the protoplasm of the primitive sea, while its top touches the superman that is to be so much nobler than we are today. Thus science looks with new awe and reverence upon this candidate for humanity. The infant inherits not only scores of organs but as many instincts and feelings from a past older than man. It does or tries to do a little of about everything that all the creatures in its lines of descent did. This is the scientific side of child-study.

Third, it has certain general, practical lessons. It teaches that it is the duty of every healthful man and woman, with no special impediments, to marry and bear children and that betimes; that this is a duty that we owe the world and society, which is quite as imperative upon all those who are fit as it is to vote, pay taxes, or fight, if our country is in danger. Biologically, the chief end of man is to transmit the sacred torch of heredity, undimmed, to the future. Nothing is so worthy of love and reverence and service as the bodies and souls of the children who will people the earth when the fifteen million people now living, who are but a mere handful compared to those who are to spring from their loins, are dead. Again, we must everywhere study nature and get out of her way: take crying, it is about the only vigorous exercise possible to the child who cannot yet walk. It irrigates the whole body with blood, expands arteries, veins, heart, and lungs, develops the voice, helps digestion, polarizes the soul between pleasure and pain, and has its own physiology, psychology, and hygiene. Once more, nearly half the infants in this country do not creep naturally. They roll, hitch, and suffer many abnormalities from premature uprightness. Creeping is necessary to bring out the chest, throw back the shoulders, strengthen the larger muscles of the back and neck which hold up the head, to develop the arms, shoulders, hips, to put the digestive organs in their proper relations at that age. Again, nursing at the mother's breast is indispensable, even as an exercise for the lips, throat, palate, tongue, and fauces, all of which suffer arrest or perversion by the easy method. of the bottle. Mother's milk contains everything which soul and body need for the first months, and neither cow's milk nor any prepared foods can take its place. Statistics from many lands show that infant mortality, which is increasing everywhere, is from four to six times as great among babes under one year of age, artificially fed, as among those breast fed. Röses' statistics show that the breast-fed child is heavier, taller, at every stage of life, lives longer, has better teeth, and that every three months of natural feeding adds immeasurably to all these quantities. Thus, in Germany, it is proposed to fine all mothers who can but will not nurse their offspring, up to five-hundred marks. The stature of the French soldiers has also been reduced from this cause, so that a witty writer represents La Grande Nation as saying "Suffer

little children to come unto me and forbid them not for of such is the army of France." But there is time for only the merest glance at these vast themes. The world is going to think more deeply and speak more plainly upon problems that affect the future of the race. The child is the consummate flower of the cosmic process. Its quality is the best test of fatherhood and motherhood, for those are the best men and women who can produce and bring to fullest maturity of body and soul the most and best children. It is weakness to evade, and folly to dispute, this conclusion. It is the nucleus of the newest, highest, richest philosophy of life. The child is not a man or woman of reduced dimensions of body and soul, but is as a grub is to a butterfly, or an egg to a bird. Their prime need is to develop to the uttermost each of the stages through which they pass, and to be retarded more than accelerated; to linger in the paradise of the recapitulatory stages is the new ideal of liberal humanistic culture, which is that each should experience all the essentials that the race has experienced in its long pilgrimage upward.

WHAT ENGLAND IS DOING TO SECURE HEALTHY
SCHOOL CHILDREN

EARL BARNES, LECTURER ON EDUCATION, PHILADELPHIA, PA.

In England, more than in any other country in Christendom, it would seem that everyone must be driven to see that a nation's best asset is her men. For England has constantly to maintain three great armies: the one that in blue and scarlet and khaki fills the regiments at home and abroad and mans the ships of the Seven Seas; the one that in black coats administers the affairs of India, Egypt, South Africa, and the islands of the seas; and the one that in corduroy drives the factories and delves in the mines. For India alone, seventy thousand men in scarlet and sixty thousand in black must be sent out and constantly reinforced. And these must be the best the land can breed, for they must live scattered among a vast native population, where only steady nerves and strong muscles can be trusted to do the work. This army also leaves few descendants and they must be brought to England in babyhood if they are to grow up into vigorous men and women. We must also remember that where monogamy prevails each male lost means a female useless for futurity.

It was Claudian who, in the days of Roman decadence, sang: "For the harvest of men has failed." In any great empire you can train levies of native troops to fight, but they must be led and supported by forces from home. England has known this and yet she has been content to go on enormously extending her native empire, while the native population of Ireland—once a paradise for the recruiting sergeant-drifted over seas to run American politics; and while at home her yeoman farmers have steadily given way to scattered game keepers in preserves rented by American millionaires. The proletariat of East London, Manchester, and Liverpool is not of the stuff that rules empires.

And so one wonders that England so long failed to realize that her navies cannot be run without men; and that in India, as in Ireland, long occupation does not necessarily mean that the native population so loves its ruler that it can be trusted to go on alone. Still England has believed until yesterday, to use her own phrase, that she "would muddle through," and she has refused to consider seriously the problem of her future supply of men. Why is this?

All aristocratic governments have been built up in the beginning by leaders, who, in return for special services, have secured special privileges for themselves and for their descendants after them. With the passage of years, these special privileges are no longer justified by the national needs, and they are then maintained through the power of custom and the ignorance of the masses. Any inquiries that tend to awaken public interest in social and psychological questions are therefore dangerous to those in authority, and are frowned down or at least neglected. Some such reason as this must be sought to explain the fact that England still has no important department of sociology or experimental psychology in her higher institutions of learning, and that the people as a whole have, until very recently, had little or no interest in such investigations.

It is true that individual workers in England have long been distinguished for investigations in these lines. Francis Galton has spent a long lifetime in urging his countrymen to study themselves and the social conditions under which they live; recently he has given a fund to establish a chair of Fugenics in London University, and has been influential in initiating the new Sociological Society. Dr. Francis Warner has measured and studied thousands of children and through his writings and the work of the Childhood Society he has sought to awaken an interest in genetic studies. The British Child-Study Association, with its various branches, has been active; and the Royal Sanitary Institute has constantly appealed to the public. The Royal Family has steadily patronized the great hospitals until London has become a medical center second to none in Europe. And still the mass of people has remained until just now comparatively indifferent to sociological and psychological investigations.

Since 1870, however, the growing industrial competition of the educated democracies of Germany and the United States has filled English statesmen with apprehension. The South African war brought the nation face to face with disaster. Her best soldiers were defeated, captured, or shut up in towns like Ladysmith or Mafeking by a small number of energetic and capable Boers. Then she began to realize that we have passed the time when a nation can muddle through her difficulties.

As the result of this industrial and military awakening, great efforts are now being made to find the causes of national inefficiency and to remedy them. Throughout Great Britain the people have embarked on a series of important experiments. The great municipalities have bought lands and erected dwellings for the poor; when industrial plants have displaced dwell