recognized as on a higher plane than a knowledge of insignificant towns, unimportant dates and meaningless definitions.

We have spent years in developing the head, training the body, giving skill to the hand. During all these ages the heart has been left to seek its own nourishment, and we have done but little to stimulate, mold or use the great emotions of youth.

The poets of this century have voiced the feelings, told the story, of the heart. Like all things in this world, the revealer of life comes when he is most needed. We are awakening to the fact that it is not what we know, but what we feel, that makes life worth living; that he lives most who loves most; that, while we can live without money and honors, we cannot live without love; that worthy desire is a disinfectant, saving from narrowness of thought and the evil influence of degrading surroundings.

We are coming out into the clear, and our hearts and eyes are being opened. We are beginning to stand foursquare to all the world and every wind that blows. It is being revealed to us that, while the intellect is the engine, feeling is the steam which makes it go.

We are beginning to realize that we are not educated until we can appreciate instinctively, and hence unconsciously. The teacher of today feels that she has not done her full duty when she makes the pictures in a great poem

"stick out," but unconsciously the child must be led to recognize the divine within and above him. Literature is beginning to perform this great work. The emotions are coming to be recognized as filling a large place and exerting a noble influence in our lives. We are beginning to understand that disorderly and uncomely school yards, caricatured outbuildings and unsightly schoolhouses are a means of moral poison and mental degradation; that when these surroundings are fit and inspiring, our children will understand the fine sentiment which caused the old Scotchman to remove his bonnet every morning, as he stood in front of his cottage and bowed his head reverently in the presence of the scene that unfurled its beauty before him.

We have reached a point in our progress where we are willing to spend less time on permutations, foreign exchange, cube root, location of unimportant towns in Africa, imbeciling definitions, stupefying details and belittling non-essentials, and give more intelligent effort to developing in the children a love for home and kindred by studying Hovenden's "Breaking Home Ties" and Whittier's "Snow Bound"; a love of country by reading the speeches of Patrick Henry, Webster, Lincoln and Sumner; an old time reverence and devotion by studying the Madonnas, "Crossing the Bar," "The Recessional," the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah, the ninetieth Psalm, the

twelfth chapter of Ecclesiastes, and the Revelation of St. John.

We are gaining respect for labor by drinking in the wisdom of Millet's "Sower," in which he shows that the laborer can be a prince and nobler than he who rides at the head of a troop of cavalry. Such pictures as the "Angelus" tell us the history of a great church, and its usefulness in developing reverence, devotion, tenderness, gentleness, attuning the hearts and giving grace to the bodies of its devotees through centuries of training; and we are seeing that all this can be told more clearly through form and color than in words and paragraph.

Love of our kind and sympathy with their trials are coming to us through the "Chapel of the Hermits," "The Day Is Done," "The Present Crisis," "Eternal Goodness," "The River Path," and "The Cotter's Saturday Night." We are learning to read the wisdom of fragrant nature through the daisy and mousie, the primrose and daffodil, as found in the field and glorified by the poems of Burns and Wordsworth. We are beginning to feel, if not see that all this means more and better for the children than the eternal grind which is responsible for much of the hatred of school by the children, and the imbeciling influence of not a little of our teaching.

There is coming again into the hearts of the people that

sentiment which was a controlling power in the earlier days, when the parents are willing to make great sacrifices that their children may be trained to fill better and larger positions than those into which they are born. They are willing to stay in the valleys while their offspring ascends to the heights, and they take pride in holding the foot of the ladder steady while the child is climbing to the top.

Experiment and experience convince us that, as soon as we do as well as we know, we shall breed children who will live up to Channing's high ideal:

To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable; and wealthy, not rich; to study hard, think quickly, talk gently, act frankly; to listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages with open hearts; to bear all cheerfully, do all bravely, await occasions, hurry never-in a word, let the best, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common: this is to be my symphony. In the meantime let us repeat reverently:

"Lord God of hosts, be with us yet,

Lest we forget, lest we forget."

Thoughts by the Way

In the study of educational problems many thoughts come which one is unwilling to include in the formal discussion of a question. Such thoughts sometimes have the kind of suggestiveness which seems to render them worthy of expression. It is with the hope that the following paragraphs may be of service that they are given a place here.

A CREED.

Homes are domnestic universities.

The common school is to be the social, literary and art center of the community.

The safety of the nation is not in the hands of its rulers, but in the lives of its common people.

The world's best servant knows the past, lives in the present, foresees the future and is ready for the next thing.

LESSONS FROM LIFE.

Opinions have a value; convictions mould the world. The graciousness of culture humbles the arrogance of knowledge.

The love that cleanses the lover will purify the world.