parts are completely merged in the life and individuality of the whole; that the part is of no value except as an organ of the whole; and that, while this ideal may have been to some extent realized in some ancient societies, it is utterly abhorrent to the modern mind; the infinite value of the eternally, enduring human soul forbidding any such merging of the individual life into the common social life. But let us not exaggerate the contrast. It is not true that in the animal body the life of the part is wholly lost in the life of the whole. On the contrary, such life as each part is capable of is completely realized; each part has the very best that it is capable of. Again, it is not true that the part works for the whole without corresponding benefit in return. On the contrary, the acknowledged ideal of the social organism, viz., that each part works for the whole and the whole for each part, is completely realized in the animal organism. Where, then, is the difference? For it must be very fundamental. It is this: In the one case, the integrating bond is material and necessary, and the function of each part unchangeably fixed forever; in the other, the integrating bond is spiritual, and therefore free, and the function of each part is freely chosen and may be freely changed for the better. In the one case, the union is by necessary law of mutual dependence; in the other, by a free law of mutual love and mutual help.

Now, if society consisted only of ideally perfect, happy, unimprovable beings associated only for mutual enjoyment, then, indeed, I suppose, the infinite worth of the immortal human soul, in comparison with any temporary association, would make such association wholly subordinate to the individuals. But when we remember that human society is an association of individuals not long since emerged out of animality, nor far on the way toward a true, i. e.. an ideal humanity, and that the achievement of that ideal is the real end and meaning of our earthly life; and, finally, that an organized society is the necessary and only means whereby the ideal may be achieved, whether in the individual or in the race, we see at once that the immediate individual interest must be subordinate to this, the highest interest of humanity. But subordination is not sacrifice. On the contrary, it is the highest success for the individual. In subserving this, the highest interest of humanity, each individual is thereby subserving his own highest interests. In striving to advance the race toward the ideal, he is himself realizing that ideal in his own person.

Why, then, are we so slow to learn this lesson? Why are we so loath to surrender our extreme individualism? I answer, not only because it is in accord with our natural selfishness, but also, and I believe chiefly, from the effects of an inherited narrow philosophy of

life. Is it not evident that so long as the Golden Age was behind instead of before us; so long as man was regarded as in a state of sad fall from a pristine ideal condition; so long as it was believed that the perfect image of God, once possessed, had been lost and must be restored, not through society but by some inscrutable miraculous agency; so long as this was the mental attitude, the supreme importance of society as a means of salvation, i. e., of attaining the ideal, must have remained unrecognized? The outcome of such a mental attitude was of necessity the individualism run-mad of the present day. But if, on the contrary, as evolution teaches, our race has gradually emerged out of animality into humanity; if the divine image was at first dim, scarcely recognizable, and the mission of humanity is, not to restore but to brighten that image until it is perfect-if the ideal, the Golden Age, is not in the past but in the future then our whole mental attitude toward society becomes changed-then the good of the individual must be, not sacrificed indeed, for that is not necessary, but freely subordinated to the good of society; then the prevailing law is not the law of mutual antagonism and struggle, and survival of only the strongest and fittest, but the law of mutual love and mutual help, and the making of as many as possible strong and fit to survive.

Still Another Lesson, and the Last.-But whether to call it a lesson in psychology, or in sociology, or in ethics, I do not know, nor does it matter much; for all departments meet on the highest plane. But I suppose it may be most properly called a lesson in ethics, for it offers us a moral ideal.

I have said in a previous lesson that individual interests must be subordinated to the attainment of the ideal. Now, what is this ideal? I believe that evolution will help us to find it. If man has indeed emerged out of animality into humanity, as evolution teaches, then must he approach his ideal just in proportion as he rises above the distinctively animal and lives habitually on the distinctively human plane; and he completely attains it when the distinctive humanity is carried out to its highest limit. Now, it is evident that this proposition involves not only a moral ideal but a means of attaining it, i. e., a philosophy of the right conduct of life. Let us stop, then, to differentiate it clearly, but very briefly, from other and older philosophies of life. I feel constrained to do this lest you should think that it involves an ascetic philosophy.

There are two opposite philosophies of life which have hitherto dominated the world of thought, aye, and of conduct, too. According to the one, our nature is essentially dual, i. e., animal and spiritual, without cordial relation between. The pure spiritual nature is imprisoned here on earth for a brief space in an impure material body

and dominated by it, and the higher spiritual nature becomes purer, nobler, freer, just in proportion as it despises, tramples under foot, and extirpates the animal nature. This is the ascetic philosophy of life. According to the other, our nature is one. Man is simply a higher kind of animal. His pleasure may, indeed, be higher, more refined than that of other animals, but still they are all on the same plane the animal. Pleasure, enjoyment-the more refined the better, of course is the only end of human as of animal life. Virtue is only a more refined kind of selfishness. This is the hedonistic philosophy of life. Now, evolution completely combines and reconciles these two mutually excluding opposites, both as to the nature of man and as to the philosophy of life, and is, therefore, more rational than either. According to the evolution view, humanity emerged out of animality, the spirit of man out of the anima of animals; but at the moment of emergence it was born into a new and higher spiritual world of self-consciousness and immortality. If this be so, then evidently the mission of man and the true philosophy of the right conduct of life are not an extirpation but a subordination of the animal to the higher spiritual nature. And this is attained, not by the natural decay nor by the voluntary extirpation of the animal but by the natural growth and the voluntary strengthening of the higher spiritual nature. The animal was in evolution the mother and is still the nourisher of the spiritual; and, therefore, the stronger the animal nature the better, if so be it is held in due subjection. There is not an appetite, passion, or emotion of our animal nature but is contributive to our spiritual nature, if only it be duly subordinated. In our complex human nature the higher is nourished and strengthened by its connection with the more robust lower, and the lower purified and refined by its connection with the higher, and the whole man is thus elevated to a higher plane without violating the integrity of his manhood.

So much was necessary to say lest I be misunderstood as sustaining an ascetic philosophy. I repeat, then, if man has emerged out of animality into humanity, then he approaches his ideal just in proportion as he departs from the characteristically animal plane and lives on the distinctively human. In animals the whole life and activity are concentrated on the now. Man, on the contrary, by memory and imagination, and more and more as his distinctive human nature predominates, lives also in the past and the future. His life expands more and more backward and forward, until in the ideal man he lives equally in all time. For him there is equal reality in all moments, past, present, and future. He weighs in equal balance all events without any prejudice in favor of the now, and is thus, as it were, unconditioned by time. This is the ideal of wise and prudent con

duct, the intellectual ideal. Again, in animals the whole life and activity are concentrated on the self, although an unrecognized self, for selfhood is first recognized in man. Man, on the contrary, and more and more as his distinctive human nature predominates, lives also in and for other selves. His life expands and incorporates more and more the lives of others, through a realizing sympathy and love. He reaches his ideal in this direction when his life spreads equally over all other lives in proportion to their real work; when self-love no longer in the least disturbs the justness of judgment or unduly influences conduct; when self and other selves are weighed in the same just balance; in a word, when he is at last unconditioned by self. This is the ideal of right conduct-the moral ideal. The moral law of equal love to self and neighbor is now fulfilled. This ideal, first given by the moral insight of the Founder of Christianity, is now at last verified by science. Observe that the condition and beginning of this whole process of evolution are the recognition of selfhood in man. But observe also that man finds selfhood only to lose it again in love.

SCIENCE AND EDUCATION.

BY WM. L. BRYAN, UNIVERSITY OF INDIANA, BLOOMINGTON, IND.

Modern science is, for the most part, outside the public school. I believe that this should not be so.

I am not one of those who believe that science can now, or ever, fully determine any art or occupation. On the contrary, I believe on principle that no principle, scientific or philosophic, is sufficient to determine a single skillful deed. Every deed, in the school or elsewhere, is a concrete thing, subject not only to the tangible forces which your method can grasp but also to the million intangible forces which no statable principle can grasp. (The power to take account of these intangible realities, which all men not debauched by learning possess in some degree, we call tact, common sense, gumption, administrative genius. For my part, I believe that these qualities are more important in the school, and in every business, than anything which science or philosophy can add.) More than any other one thing, I should like to-day to see a crusade in favor of common sense in the public school. With scientific and philosophic Don Quixotes riding their Rosinantes against innumerable windmills, and sometimes carrying windmills with them, I know of no hope for

the children except in that saving salt of common sense which the American people generally show in the long run in all their undertakings. I particularly rejoice that we have in so many cities schoolmen with a genius for the practical administration of affairs. At a time when the ferment of educational ideas is everywhere working, it is worth while to remember that there is no sort of man greater than the great executive. A man who can successfully administer a great school, who can meet rightly everybody who has to be met. from the janitor to the mayor, who can face the whole problem of life from the price of coal to the co-ordination of studies, and who can bring out of all this conditions that will suffer the children to live and to grow, that man is a statesman and all the rest of us should take off our hats in his presence.

In the second place, I do not believe that empirical science makes valueless the philosophical contributions to education. Some of my colleagues do not agree with me in this. There are those who believe, that, although men have lived in the world some thousands of years, nothing worth the while was known until lately. Plato might as well never have lived; Kant is a corrupter of the youth; Hegel is an enemy of human progress; and so following. I cannot agree with this. In general, I have found that these critics do not know the philosophies they deride. Their derision is generally ignorant derision and their scorn is self-disgrace.

For my part I rejoice in the priceless inspirations of Froebel. do not doubt that the disciples of Hegel and Herbart have done vastly more than their unintelligent critics realize to lift educational theory from the plane of capricious debate. I should like to see in this association a Plato Club or an Aristotle Club. I should be glad to see a genuine revival of any of those greater masters who have taken the raw material of human experience through spiritual fire until it has become gold. I am glad, also, that we have in some cities the philosopher-superintendent-provided he is like that one of your number of whom his friends say that he can fly and also walk the can fly with the seers and he can keep step with the children)

But, ladies and gentlemen, there is another influence which I believe should more largely touch the public school. Of the vast social movement commonly called modern science, doubtless because of its relative magnitude in our time, we are all more or less attentive witnesses. It is perhaps too great and too near for adequate definition at present by anyone, but something of the outside of its secret is the secret of everyone. The best experiences of the best observers are saved, and these are by degrees brought together so that they emerge special laws, and then general laws, sciences, and the promise of science. Through this wide and delicate and or