an intelligent and upright judge, it would rarely leave any necessity for calling other witnesses. But so long as the procedure of a so-called license court is founded on the assumption that a liquor license is the inalienable right of every man that can pay the fee unless something is proved against him, the practice of the court will be affected thereby, to the public detriment. It ought to be conclusive against an applicant that the court knows nothing about him.

4. It ought to be understood that it is not the business of the licensing board to find suitable candidates; that it is only to pronounce on the suitableness of the candidates who present themselves. If it should so happen that all the applicants at a certain time were demonstrably unfit, or that they were not demonstrably fit, the licensing board would not be to blame for recognizing that fact, and waiting for further applications before issuing any license. In fact, this course would be its obvious duty.

We must be prepared here for the objection always raised at this point by that sagacious friend of humanity, the prohibitionist: "Do you expect that respectable and honorable men are going to apply for liquor licenses? That will never be." The answer is obvious enough. Under a good law, righteously administered, if no suitable men apply, there will be no licenses granted. The last man to make this objection should be the prohibitionist. But it is part of the unwritten league which unites him with the saloon keeper, that they shall work together to keep the whole trade in liquors in the hands of the criminal classes.

LEONARD WOOLSEY BACON.

WHAT SHALL THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS TEACH?

MASSACHUSETTS is the birthplace of the public school. "As an innovation upon all pre-existing policy and usages," says Horace Mann, "the establishment of free schools was the boldest ever promulgated since the commencement of the Christian era." Time, which tests all things, has left no occasion for the vindication or eulogy of this institution.

But in these latter days, when doctrinaires assume to limit the teaching of the common school to elementary branches, it is interesting to observe how comprehensive was the thought of our fathers at a time when the wolf was at their doors, and poverty was the companion of their firesides. In one of the earlier colonial statutes it was ordained that, while every town. of fifty householders should teach every child to read and write, every town of one hundred should establish a grammar school where youth might be "fitted for the university, to the end that learning may not be buried in the graves of our forefathers in church and commonwealth." To these wise builders of the state the highest education of some meant the highest service to all. And this is forever true. Scholarship is a diffusible blessing. The high-priests of science and of literature are, consciously or unconsciously, ministering to the lowliest. And, as a matter of history, the great movements of philanthropy to elevate the lower and dependent classes, either materially or spiritually, have been led by scholars.

Even if we adopt that curious theory that the state exists only for itself, then we say that the best education makes the best citizens. Nor is there any logical line of exclusion to be drawn above reading and writing, or anywhere else on the ascending scale. Brushing aside restrictive theories, there remains the practical question, how far the state shall educate. And the answer to this may vary according to circumstances. The

general judgment of the American people has wisely fixed the limit, for the present at least, at the time when the pupil naturally leaves his home for further training.

Within the limits the state sets for itself everybody's school should be better than anybody's. This not only because the state has ampler means, but also because of the breadth of culture and the healthiness of influence which comes from the mingling of all classes of children together. A boy may be as manly a boy brought up under the glass of "a select school," but the chances are against him. Of course, when I say that every body's school should be better than anybody's, I mean better for the average pupil. There may be special cases that can be better provided for in private schools. Nor should the greatest good of the greatest number be subordinated to any other consideration. While, therefore, I believe that ordinarily it is better for the boy and better for the school that our highschools should afford a suitable preparation for college, yet careful attention should be paid to the proportion of time and teaching strength devoted to this purpose. And, as one of the greatest perils attending our modern education is the over-strain of college fitting, to wise parents it would be a recommendation if the public school should deliberately elect to keep behind private tuition in the race of preparation.

The study of Latin, however (with very little attention to its grammar), I would introduce into the grammar school at an early age, and as a part of the general curriculum. Viewed merely from the practical side, I think a knowledge of ordinary Latin words of more use to the average citizen than much of the English grammar and geography now taught. It unlocks the meaning of many common legal and scientific terms, it familiarizes one with the classical mythology which has to be understood to enjoy almost any branch of imaginative literature, and it is the only means by which to get an impressive sense of the precise force of a large part of the English language itself. Besides all this, the study of classical literature, to even a very moderate extent, tends to refine the taste and train the critical faculties, and constitutes the true complement to scientific studies in mental development.

It is not necessary to say anything of the common course of study which makes the staple of public-school instruction. Thoroughness in these elementary branches is essential, but needs no advocacy.

"Encourage the beautiful," says Goethe, "for the useful will take care of itself." It is a pregnant saying, but still a halftruth; for the beautiful is, in so many ways, itself the useful, whether the end sought is happiness or culture. The "common school" should be common in nothing but its openness to every one; like the common air and the world itself, it should be no less beautiful because its ownership is universal. Those whose homes supply scanty means of refinement or sources of beauty, should have those tastes awakened and trained at school which will make life sweeter and happier wherever it may be passed. Without overburdening the curriculum of studies, such arts as music, drawing, and floriculture might take their place as diversions.

"Character building" must be assumed as summing up, as well as a phrase can, the ultimate object of education. On the intellectual side such building requires both tools and materials; the mind must have something to work with and something to work on. But it is a grave error to mistake methods or facts for education. If we had to choose between attainments and the vigor of mind which has the power to attain what it wills, we should certainly choose the latter. All else comes when needed. But the head will do but little unless spurred on by the heart, and I would have over every school-room these golden sentences of Sir John Lubbock: "The important thing is not so much that every child should be taught, as that every child should wish to learn. A boy who leaves school knowing much, but hating his lessons, will soon have forgotten almost all he ever learned; while another who had acquired a thirst for knowledge, even if he had learned little, would soon teach himself more than the first ever knew."

I am not, then, departing from a strictly practical answer to the question, "What shall the public schools teach?" when I say, above all things, the love of truth itself. The teacher who cannot inspire his pupils with this must confess himself to be a

failure. The intellectual love of truth, no doubt, has some affinity to the passion for it as a moral principle. Integrity of mind tends toward integrity of life. But the state cannot afford to rely upon such tendencies. It needs good citizens even more than it needs intelligent citizens, and it must directly strike for the former. Any system of instruction which ignores either ethics or religion is fatally defective. Whatever a coterie of modern theorists may say in support of such a system, the experience and judgment of mankind is overwhelmingly against them.

It is a forcible saying of the Duke of Argyll that, “fortunately for mankind, no actual legislators have ever been quite so foolish as some philosophers." Certainly, the legislators of my own State never have been; for the public statutes of Massachusetts still enjoin it upon "all instructors of youth to exert their best endeavors to impress on the minds of children and youth committed to their care and instruction, the principles of piety and justice, and a sacred regard for truth, love of their country, humanity, and universal benevolence, sobriety, industry, and frugality, chastity, moderation, and temperance, and those other virtues which are the ornament of human society, and the basis upon which a republican constitution is founded." But I fear these excellent injunctions are often disregarded. More attention is paid to examination drills, or even to pedantic rules of discipline, than to "the weightier matters of the law, judgment, justice, and mercy.'

Every thoughtful observer or careful thinker arrives at the conclusion that we cannot safely rely on the culture of the intel lect alone. It was the complaint of Montaigne, the skeptic, centuries ago, that the system of education in vogue had the fault of overestimating the intellect and rejecting morality; and it may be remembered that when Herbert Spencer was in this country, he declared that knowledge alone could not be relied on to secure the purification of politics. That "it is essentially a question of character, and only in a secondary way a question of knowledge. Not a lack of information, but lack of certain moral sentiments, is the root of the evil." But surely we do not need the authority of great names to assure us that the