and Soule, were on the popular side in this controversy. That some of those leaders, from considerations of expediency, subsequently changed their minds as to the wisdom of an elective eldership has not the slightest significance or bearing on the question here examined. We are not arguing a question of expediency, but a question of law.

It is well worth observing that in all these constitutional wars the southern portion of the Church were the "highchurch" party, and stanch defenders of episcopal prerogative. This fact was conspicuous in the Conference of 1844, where those views were elaborated and afterwards crystallized in the "Protest" of the Southern delegates.

The answer of the Church to these pretensions was the speech of Hamline and the "Reply to the Protest," from which we have already made quotations. So in the eldership controversy Bishops M'Kendree and Soule, backed by the South, were the champions of high prerogative, while the strength of the reform movement was chiefly in the North. The Southern interpretation of the Church's constitution is succinctly stated by Bishop Paine, of the Church South, in his Life of M'Kendree (p. 416):

Originally the itinerant preachers exercised unrestrained powers; but they saw proper in their wisdom to constitute a delegated General Conference, invested with such powers as the preachers collectively deemed necessary to perform the duties assigned it. Their powers were expressed. What is not expressed is consequently withheld.

But a view diametrically opposite to this has ruled in the Church North, and is correctly given by Bishop Harris, in his work on "The Powers of the General Conference" (p. 22):

There is not here (in the grant of powers) a delegation of enumerated powers accompanied by a general reservation, as in the Federal Government, but a delegation of general and sweeping powers under enumerated and well-defined restrictions.

[Further views on the general subject will be presented in another paper.]

ART. III. - CHRISTIAN EDUCATION.

OUR endeavor, in this paper, is to emphasize the distinction between Christian and secular education, to exhibit the failure to recognize adequately this distinction, and to suggest some measures for improvement. We use the word education solely in its technical sense, referring to the training of the schools. A conflict which has, probably, only begun in this country, is over the question of Christian and secular schools. The struggle between Christianity and secularism presents no phase more important than this. Additional interest comes from the fact that Christian people are not precisely a unit with regard to the issue.

Between the two styles of training in question there is large superficial resemblance-and misleading resemblance. Both aim at culture in certain special directions. These directions are largely the same. The same studies, in the main, are pursued at Ithaca or Ann Arbor as at Middletown or Princeton. This fact is liable to mislead, and doubtless does mislead, many in reaching their practical conclusions. But these external similarities are not of chief interest. Other points we may find, upon examination, exhibiting the strongest and most vital contrasts.

The distinction is fundamental. It relates, first of all, to the ultimate end of education. What is education for? That is a most pertinent and essential question certainly, and one that ought not to be lost sight of at any point in educational processes. To this question Christianity gives a definite answer; an answer not formal, nevertheless weighty and exact. Secularism gives a variety of conflicting answers. The confusion which reigns over the human mind when it separates itself from God appears in the chaos of secular educational theories. the purpose of easy inspection we may name and arrange these theories as follows: 1. The Popular, "the bread and butter," theory. 2. The theory of Secular Statesmanship. 3. That of Intellectualism. 4. That of Philosophic Utilitarianism. The first is the crude theory floating in the popular mind: education is to help in getting a living; to make living easy, comfortable, and possibly luxurious. The second theory holds

For

that education is for the public good. It is not a mere private advantage, but a public necessity. The third rings the changes upon the word "culture." Knowledge and intellectual development form the supreme end. The fourth theory, that of Philosophic Utilitarianism, is the best that secular thought has ever given. Herbert Spencer stands as its representative. He says, "How to live? that is the essential question for us. Not how to live in the mere material sense only, but in the widest sense, . . . how to live completely. And this being the great thing needful for us to learn, is by consequence the great thing which education has to teach. To prepare us for complete living is the function which education has to discharge." This general statement is exceedingly beautiful. We may be inclined. to pronounce it faultless. But it is general. Under this beautiful mask is agnosticism of the most unqualified type. Mr. Spencer tells us later what "complete living" is, as he regards it. He enters formally and methodically into the work. He gives a detailed list of "the leading activities which constitute human life." But nowhere do we find the slightest hint that man has a religious nature. Not even among those "activities" which he regards as least in importance, " those making up the leisure part of life, devoted to the gratification of tastes and feelings," does he find any place for an act of worship, or for any endeavor to satisfy the great "hunger and thirst" of the human heart. His "complete living" appears, in the light of all history, exceedingly incomplete. His theory as to the purpose of education, then, foots up in this: to prepare us for "complete living" with the supreme fact of life left out. These theories are, of course, in some measure correct. But they have the vicious quality of half-truths, or less than half truths. And that makes their consideration somewhat difficult, especially when we undertake to compare them with the Christian theory. One is almost compelled to indulge in truisms or to run the risk of seeming to deny what every body should be ready to admit.

"A lie that is all a lie

May be met and fought with outright;
But a lie that is half a lie

Is a harder matter to fight."

The Christian theory of education is necessarily implied in the Christian conception of human life. We may accept Mr.

4-FIFTH SERIES, VOL. I.

Spencer's statement, that education is to prepare us for "com. plete living;" but we must learn from Christ what "complete living" is. "Man shall not live by bread alone." He must have bread, but he needs even more the "word which proceedeth from the mouth of God." He has intellect and taste, but also conscience. His highest attainment is goodness. He is a citizen of an earthly state, but also a subject of the kingdom of God. His "activities" upon the earth are largely preliminary and preparatory. He is to live forever in the world to come.

Education should therefore be in the largest sense liberal. It should make the man self-supporting, acquainting him with practical measures for comfortable and beautiful living. It should prepare him for citizenship. It should make him, it may be, a man of letters, or a scientist, or an artist. But it should go further. It should strengthen and broaden his faith in God. It should sharpen his appreciation for spiritual realities. It should furnish him with a just conception of human life; its needs, possibilities, and obligations. It should deepen in his mind the distinction between right and wrong. It should strengthen his conviction of those truths which surround right with its most impressive sanctions.

Any system of general education that does not accomplish this, Christianity must pronounce a failure. Any system that puts obstacles in the way of this, is a perversion. The Christian conception of life is so unlike the secular, so far above and beyond it, that it justly claims recognition in every measure that has to do with the shaping of life; and, therefore, recognition as far as possible at every step in educational processes.

But how far is education actually Christian? To what extent do the schools recognize "complete living" as the end they should help to serve? To go no further than our own country, we have an immense and most interesting field for investigation. We have systems of public instruction. We have schools and academies in large numbers, supported by private enterprise, or by the various religious denominations. We have, according to the report of the Commissioner of Education for 1881, 362 colleges and universities, regularly chartered and authorized to confer degrees. (And it might be added, that their power to confer degrees is operated pretty effectively.) We have on an average throughout the United States one

college or university to every piece of territory one hundred miles square. Many of these institutions, it is true, have names ridiculously out of proportion with their real character. And yet they are doing a valuable work, and are destined to increase in influence. At all events, the educational enterprises of our country deserve the most careful study, and especially from those who have the progress of Christianity at heart.

Such a study will reveal, no doubt, in all, or nearly all, these institutions the existence of features of noteworthy excellence. In many instances, however, there will be discovered a conspicuous lack of harmony between the end proposed and the means employed; a lack of coherent, well-applied educational theory. And still further, and this is for us now the main point, there must appear a failure quite general to recognize properly the place that belongs to distinctively Christian teaching. For proof and illustration we may look, first, to our public schools. They have undeniable merits. They have, at least, the virtue of a good intention, the elevation, in some sense, of the multitudes. They have been sources of good to millions of our population. Still, it may be fairly questioned whether their defects are not nearly as great as their merits. The root-evil is a lack of correct, well-applied educational theory. The theory that underlies them is narrow and incomplete; and even this is poorly applied. Are our public schools to be regarded as means employed by the State for its own protection? Is the end "to prepare youth for citizenship?" That theory is commendable as far as it goes. Here is the all-sufficient warrant for public education, perhaps its only warrant. But if that is the end sought, then the means are certainly inadequate to the end; they often lose sight of the end. Ignorance is not the only enemy of the State, nor the greatest. And in styles of ignorance as well as of knowledge there is room for choice. One of the first requisites of citizenship is self-support. This being the case, it is plain that industrial training, especially in our large cities, should receive public attention. It would receive attention if public instruc tion paid half the heed to the evils of loaferism that it pays to those of illiteracy. With respect to a certain class of embryo citizens the State confronts two alternatives: either to teach