say of the church of China? I am sure that none who have had actual experience in missionary work would be deceived into thinking that many of the seeming evidences of progress are to be considered as true. The mere addition of a large number of inquirers who are anxious to join the church, the fulsome praise of officials or gentry when a new preaching hall is opened, the new attitude of the people in being willing to make contributions to Christian work, the demand for books published by Christian societies, these may or may not be evidence of progress. Much less can it be estimated by the gradual spread of the peculiar forms and doctrines of any one of our various divisions of Christianity. We must look for progress in the church on the lines of what is permanent. Our real Christianity is morality, sympathy, sacrifice for others' good and obedience to Christ's teachings. All progress must be the development of these qualities in increasing numbers of people and in increasing intensity among those already influenced. The moral life of Christian converts must be on a higher plane as to honesty, integrity, truthfulness, unselfishness, than the life of any non-Christians. The broad principles of morality must have sway and dominion over their lives. The singing of hymns, the ability to lead in prayer and to make a public address are but so much sounding brass and tinkling cymbals if not founded upon the basal elements of morality. There can never be a Pentecost in the church before there has been a Sinai. The law proved a schoolmaster to lead to Christ among the Jews and so it must ever do. The elements underlying true progress in the church are higher ideals of morality, broader charity for less favored neighbors, new zeal for the welfare of others and constant dependence upon an ever-present Saviour. My own observation leads me to believe that, judged by these standards, there is true progress in the church of China.

९.

John P. Ferguson

ART. X.-COLLEGE EDUCATION AS A LUXURY

A RECENT unfair utterance to the effect that some of our great universities are becoming fashionable country clubs for the sons of the rich may well lead to certain pertinent questions. Why are American boys going to college, or why do their parents send them? And what should be the aim of the Methodist Church in providing educational facilities? A study of the American student body gives impression of diversity of motive. Three types of ideal seem to be dominant, and we may well call them the American, the German, and the English ideals.

The first is primarily practical. A generation ago it dominated all our American colleges, and gave impulse to the army of college graduates now in middle life and filling positions of trust throughout the country. The boy went to college to learn the "open sesame" which the doors of opportunity would obey. He usually came from a home of modest competence and his parents wished him to take a place in the world beyond the limitations of his home surroundings. They sent him that he might equip himself, not necessarily with so-called practical knowledge, but at least for practical conquest in life through the broadening and deepening of his mind. The political, professional, religious ambitions which governed his education took this eminently practical, though not necessarily selfish form. The son of the farmer of moderate means, with or without assistance from his father, by teaching district school, by severe economy and private study was able at last to knock at college doors. Then, by doing chores, by running a boarding club, by summer work, together with a conscientious fighting of debt, he passed through his college years. His eye was fixed on one goal-practical success in the life beyond the college. He had no time to kill: his college hours had cost him too much to be wasted in idleness or dissipation. No self-discipline in books and in classroom seemed too hard for one whose presence there was the fruitage of a long and purposeful self-discipline in humble tasks. Manliness, pluck, self-control,

integrity, were better products in him than knowledge and taste. He learned to think, rather than to acquire; to see essential truth in matters, to grasp problems, even to debate and orate. He came out of college with less technical learning and grammatical science than is given by our more highly developed educational equipment run on exact educational principles, but he was masterful, and soon proved his mastery. Nor is this type of student disappearing from our colleges, any more than practical purposefulness is disappearing from American character. It has, however, become comparatively less frequent in our richer and more famous colleges, with their clientele among the rich. The extravagant cost of even the necessities of life in such institutions has driven him elsewhere. The mere cost of tuition, not to speak of the greater demand on his time and money before college doors will open to him, has made him seek the small provincial college or the free state and denominational institutions. There the scale of living is within his meager abilities, the technical scholarly requirements for entrance are not so high, the opportunities of selfhelp are simple, and lie within the capacities of a strong and determined manhood. He may be deprived of extensive libraries and laboratories, he must forego club life and social dissipation, cosmopolitanism and the arts; but he does not forego purposefulness of character, and this in the long run carries him far along toward his goal. In its obscure corner the small college, which is giving itself to the youth of this type, is doing a vital work for the nation, and should not be permitted to die, nor to be swallowed by the big university trusts. The rescue of these colleges from financial distress has been a great benefaction; but it must not defeat its aim by raising the humble college to an ambitious and elaborate university, for thereby the scale of living is raised in turn, and the institution becomes inaccessible to the class it was really benefiting.

The second motive for education is scholarly rather than practical. Here and there among the boys of our land, in all grades of the social scale, are found eager, inquiring minds, stirred by a noble curiosity, intent on fuller mastery of some field of

knowledge which has interested the boyish imagination-chemistry, geology, electricity, history, ethnology, language. They have nature's stamp on them as scholars, and their true aptitudes of mind if rightly directed will lead them to wide conquest in pure scholarship. They will become inventors, investigators, discoverers. They will know the truth for truth's sake. This type of mind has been eminently characteristic of the German nation, and we may well call it the German educational motive. It has been fundamental to the recent magnificent achievements of the German nation. For such as these no expense of laboratory or library, no cost in the employment of trained specialists, is too great. Our highly specialized technical schools and university departments have concentrated themselves upon answering the demands of this class. The influence of the German University system has strongly impregnated the faculties of such institutions, and they are most fully in sympathy with such scholarly aims. Through this class, purposefulness of character is ever bearing rich fruitage in the American scholar.

But there is still a third motive, found in ever increasing prevalence among the college students of to-day. This regards the college education as a luxury, as a matter of social prestige both in and out of the college world. The student comes from a home of comfort, possibly from a home of luxury. He neither needs to fight for a door of opportunity nor does he crave knowledge; he enjoys social life and wishes to be a good fellow among the fellows and to win social distinction. He cannot be long in observing that the college, especially the famous old college, gives such distinction. He, therefore, does not go to college for hard work. And in the leisurely round of semi-tasks he will prove his character. If vicious, or weak, he may become a prodigal and a gambler; if lazy, he will prove a loafer. But if he has a strain of fine manhood, and comes from a home where luxury is no novelty, he will lead an urbane but not a strenuous life as a student; he will become much of a gentleman, even though he be but moderately a scholar. He desires luxurious dormitories and club houses, trips to the great cities, fashionable social gatherings,

banquets, theaters, and the many appurtenances of luxurious living out in the larger world. In his scholastic relationships he is contented in maintaining himself well enough to gain a respectable pass, and looks down with contempt upon the grind working for high standing. As a gentleman he would almost as soon confess a taste for small trade as a diligent enthusiasm along some line of study. For the young American whose future career is assured in a well established business, and who is destined to a subsequent life of such luxury, it offers an admirable training for his world. He will be more graceful, urbane, intelligent, self-poised. The increasing wealth of the country has created a demand for this type of education, and the extensive social equipment of the large fashionable universities has followed naturally. To-day, in the eyes of no small number of students wishing to enter college, this social equipment is more important than the literary or scientific facilities. Nor is this type of American education to be deplored, even though it is undemocratic in its tendency. If we have rich men, it may be well to make them graceful, urbane, and intelligent, to relieve them from the intense driving energy of pure commercialism. In the elevating avocations of the rich they will find a higher life for themselves. This is undoubtedly an education for the classes as opposed to the masses. But we have classes in American society and they need education; and they must have an education suited to their own needs. The educational ideals of the two great English universities well suit this demand. And the plan of President Wilson toward the introduction of the English system of instruction at Princeton points to the ultimate adoption of this educational ideal. But there may be a genuine and practical peril in this last type of education for the average boy of the middle classes. Through the blind pride of parents, their desire that their children may rise socially, the boy often becomes a victim of a fatal mistake. He is sent to learn the amenities and luxuries of the rich, to fall into that easy disregard for a career which is natural and harmless to a boy with an assured business future and an ample income. He is supplied with pocket money in lavish profusion, from the point of view