ness for a higher office in the universe after my present term has expired?

Sing on, O pines;

Translate to men

The language of the invisible winds.

Let us pause long enough for a little thought once in a while. The unlimited desire for hurry at the present day is beneath the dignity and is stunting to the finer faculties of human beings. Could it do so, the present generation would even increase the speed of the earth until the axle began to smoke, and then would pause only long enough to allow it to cool before starting up again.

Down a little valley some distance from the pine grove ran a small brook, sealed in places by smooth, clear ice. Being somewhat curious to know the condition of the underside of this cold cover I broke out

a large piece and pulled it onto the bank. The side that came next to the water was worn into irregular winding mounds and valleys, running in the same general direction as the brook's flow. These. mounds had no sharp edges but were as smooth and rolling as low hills seen from a distance.

The ice in slow-moving rivers and in ponds begins to melt near the shore first, sometimes leaving a space of open water several feet in width between the shore and the ice; but in small, swift brooks I have noticed that the ice begins to melt in the center of the stream first, gradually growing thinner and thinner until holes of odd shapes.

appear.

At one place in a certain brook, where the ice was thin, I found water splashing against the underside and clinging there in the form of large drops; sometimes these hanging globules remained in one place, and apparently revolved on their axes, and sometimes they sidled along and turned round and round at the same time, looking like drops of mercury quivering on a glass plate. I once found one of these drops frozen firmly to the ice, but its life and luster were gone, the secret of its beauty being its ability to move and tremble in the sunlight.

This March day had in it broad hints of a gentler season to come. The air was cool but the sun was warm, and as I sat in the shelter of a rock I could feel the kind touch of returning heat. I looked at the tree shadows on the snow and thought of the impartiality of the sun in this respect. The shadow that the oak casts with its bleached burden of withered leaves is no less beautiful and varied than that of the pine. The shadows of the golden-rod stalks with their old ashy plumes, and the burned-out torches of the sumachs, compare favorably with the delicate, thready lines drawn upon the snow by the young birches.

Notwithstanding the fact that the weather was fine and that Winter had performed his right-about-face, I met but few people in the woods; and those I did see, with but two exceptions, were riding along the wood-road in sleighs. The snow back from the road lay untrodden save by birds and animals, and it seemed a pity that such a fine day should be spent indoors.

People do not seem to love the outdoors after they have entered

manhood. Their business has their chief thoughts for six days in the week, and sometimes for seven. Most men do not relish a ramble in the woods any more than a cat loves a sprinkling. It is an element to which they are almost wholly unused, and if they find themselves in the woods alone, they are of necessity thrown upon their own resources; so that if their powers of observation and imagination are dull, or if they have no love for natural objects, they are soon bored, and long for the companionship of other men.

A town or city may have ever so many fine woods and fields about it, but unless some of that territory is taken and improved by making roads and paths through it, and by trimming and cutting and planting, the visitors to those woods will be comparatively few. But let a section be made into a park; let a few winding roads be cut through, and some flower beds be laid out in geometric forms, and men will flock there by dozens and scores and cry, "How beautiful!"

One reason why people patronize parks is because they can wear fine clothes there and not spoil them. We should live so near to Nature that when we go into her woods we can search out the secrets of the streams, and learn the ways of the animate and inanimate things without a thought about clothes and fashion. Let us wear in the woods old clothes,-garments that will regard the seemingly rude touches and splashes of nature not as insults but as caresses.

By all means let us have parks, but let us not deprive such areas of any of their original beauty. A bed of massed pansies in the shape of a Maltese cross may be artistic, but let us not sacrifice too many pines and oaks to too much trivial prettiness. I venture to say that the Back Bay Fens of Boston are far more attractive to the ordinary individual than the wild acres of the Middlesex Fells.

The long grass that topped many of the small hills in the woods. was a pleasing sight. From a distance it looked like brown mist hovering over the snow and sifting itself through the shrubbery. It died long ago in the fall, but so sturdy and pliant is it that the storms of winter could not crush it down. It is even more stubborn than the old oak leaves; but perhaps it has a mission to perform. May it not stand as an example for the young grasses of the spring to follow? When the new shoots pierce the mold perhaps they will say within themselves, "O parent grass, we will strive to emulate thee, and do our best to help make the coming summer one of complete beauty."

Ο

FOREIGN INTEREST IN AMERICAN SCHOOLS.

NE of the most interesting signs of the times is the international interchange of opinions and ideas in respect to education. It is noticeable that in this interchange we are not in the category of those who have everything to learn and nothing to impart. Since the Chicago Exposition our influence in the world of education has distinctly advanced. One proof of this is the presence of American professors in the lecture room of foreign universities; as at this moment, Royce at Edinburgh, Ladd at Tokio, Earl Barnes in London.

The appreciation of individuals, whether of men or of institutions, comes, however, more readily than the comprehension of a system or a general policy in education. Systems of popular education in particular reflect the qualities in which nations are most unlike and, therefore, least intelligible to each other. In America all progress in this respect is from the people upward, which is the reverse of what goes on in other countries, even in those most closely akin to ourselves. With us the control of elementary schools resided from the first in the people. In England it is being gradually conquered by the people. Our common schools represent a growth rather than a system; hence their defects are even more apparent to the casual observer than their excellencies, and we are not surprised to find that as a whole they excite less commendation than is expressed for particular features. Just now our manual training high schools are much in favor with those who study our system from a foreign standpoint. These schools meet indeed a universal want in a very direct manner, and one easily adopted by other English-speaking countries. The law incorporating schools of this class into the State system of Massachusetts has not escaped attention, and Ontario, which is alive to the need of similar provision, looks to this State for suggestions. The Deputy Minister of Education in Ontario, Mr. Millar, has recently issued a special report on the subject which touches upon the whole scheme of secondary schools: "I regard the American system of free high schools," he says, "as immeasurably superior to the English system, which calls for tuition fees, and as the one which we might examine with advantage. To shut out the poorer classes from our high schools, as appears to be the present tendency in Ontario, is to adopt a policy which Rein, one of the most famous German educationists living, calls "unchristian," and which may be regarded as a relic of an undemocratic age.

"The average cost in the high schools and collegiate institutes of Ontario is about $20 and $30 per pupil, respectively. In the United States it ranges from $40 to $50 a pupil, and even higher. It may be said Massachusetts and New York are wealthy States, and that they furnish no example for Canada. This objection will lose all its weight when it is known that States like Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Dakota and Wyoming have the same generous policy of free high schools." He commends as an example for Ontario the unity of educational control in cities and districts. "In the United States," he says, "the existence of distinct Boards for technical schools, high schools, public schools, etc., is not known. One Board of Education controls all educational interests. One inspector, superintendent or principal, who is both a scholar and a man practically acquainted with both elementary and secondary education, is held responsible for the management of all the schools, and with the ratepayers looking to one body of trustees for the best educational results, attention to what may be termed a practical education cannot be ignored. This undivided management or responsibility is one of the factors that have forced, I might say, much attention to be given to industrial training in the city schools of almost all the Northern and

Western States." Another feature, whose adoption Mr. Millar recommends, is free tuition in the high schools. This proposition, he observes, "may startle many persons; but why, might I ask, should not Canadians be as liberal, as enterprising and as practical in educational matters as Americans? The policy of admitting students to superior institutions on high school certificates meets his approbation as a means of reducing the strain of examinations which has become excessive in Ontario.

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The meeting of the Congregational Council at Boston brought to this country several English ministers deeply interested in educational problems, among them notably Rev. J. Hirst Hollowell, Secretary of the Northern Counties Education League. Dr. Hollowell is the indefatigable advocate of free schools under public control, in opposition to the mixed system of public and parochial schools as it exists in England. Since his return he has delivered many addresses bristling with contrasts between our own and the English system. "England," he says, "spends 6 s. on every child where America spends 9 s." 'Massachusetts has 353 School Boards; Lancashire, with a much greater population, has only 50." "There is," he declares, “no comparison between the amount of voluntary educational work, especially in the higher branches, in England with the amount shown. in America. In America there is no such idea as that you can overeducate a man, but here one finds the idea like a pestilence. High school education is universally available. Instead of a child having, as in Lancashire, to take a train for seven, ten, or fifteen miles, at great expense to the parents, and to the peril of the children themselves, the high school in America is almost always close at hand, and the high school is under the authority which controls also the primary establishments." These and similar contrasting views naturally excite counter statements, and the advocates of clerical schools in England are endeavoring to work up a case against our "secular education" by a distorted view of crime statistics. Whenever these statistics are candidly analyzed their evidence is found favorable to the cause of popular education. It is, however, hopeless to expect those who love the mere sound of numbers to examine into their true significance.

Another Englishman who reports favorably of our system is Mr. Thomas Burns, who examined particularly the provision made by means of high schools for commercial education. "What impressed me greatly in respect to these," he says, "was the stress laid upon the necessity of good business habits, such as accuracy, neatness, promptness, courtesy, dispatch, energy, and all those general habits which are the essentials of a successful and intelligent business career. Business men are unanimous in commendation of the commercial courses. Pupils leaving school, after passing through a full course of four years, secure in a comparatively brief period remunerative business positions. Inquiries made by myself in Chicago and other business centers confirmed this view." Applying the results of his observation to England he adds, "Until our secondary schools have a definite and efficiently organized commercial course-as efficient as the other courses which prepare pupils for going forward to the univer

sity, to enter the professions-it seems almost useless to speak of a Chair for Commerce in the University."'

Dr. Compayré, one of the most appreciative of our foreign critics, devotes a chapter in a recent number of the Revue Pedagogique to the survey of education and educational literature in this country for the past year. Of works dealing with the practical side of the subject he notes, in particular, Dr. Walker's "Discussions in Education,” which embodies the author's ideas modified and perfected by long experience; and the work on "University Problems" by President . Gilman, which, as Dr. Compayré observes, is for those only who are engaged in higher education. On the theoretic side two books above all others claim attention; namely, the "Talks to Teachers on Psychology" by Professor James, and Münsterberg's "Psychology and Life." Of the former Dr. Compayré says, "However original and profound his conceptions he has the skill to make them clear, intelligible and accessible to all." Münsterberg's work he characterizes as "a truly great book full of a vigorous idealism."

Nó particular of the year's history has escaped this close observer, and he passes in rapid review the crises in Chicago and New York, all the discussions that have agitated schoolmen, the problems that have arisen, the enterprises undertaken. While these matters are familiar to ourselves they receive emphasis from the writer's standpoint. For instance, in this country as in France the school is made to bear a part in the struggle against intemperance, but in the older country there is less extravagance in the effort. "In nearly all the States," says Dr. Compayré, "this instruction is established. It is, perhaps, fair to say that it is sometimes abused. This is even allowed by some Americans, who realize that it is absurd to teach the disastrous consequences of alcohol to children under nine years of age; that it is imprudent to familiarize young imaginations with repulsive facts; and, in fine, that it is unnecessary to repeat the temperance lessons, as is done over and over again during the school course, in the primary, the grammar and the high-school grades."

In France also there is a movement to establish closer relations between parents and the schools, but it does not seem to be as general or as well organized as with us. So, too, though art is more highly developed in France, the æsthetic adornment of schoolrooms is much less general. "In France," says Dr. Compayré, we are proud to have accomplished in our richest universities results analogous to those obtained in obscure primary schools of America.”

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The character of the N. E. A. and its meeting at Los Angeles are enthusiastically described. He is struck with the fraternal relations between teachers and professors noticeable in these conferences. "University professors," he says, "elbow the teachers of primary schools; the principals of colleges confer with the directors of normal and high schools; in other words the fusion of the three orders of instruction is something more in America than a dream or a vague aspiration,-it is a reality." In his opinion the work of public instruction is more highly esteemed in this country, where the school is a matter of interest to everybody, than in Europe. He is, however,