The State University in America

HIGHER education has long been growing more rational. Yet there is a widespread feeling of discontent with the present ideal of academic culture which sometimes degenerates into downright pessimism. It must be conceded that education costs too much time and too much money for the kind. The college curriculum should be still further transformed in order to bring it into harmony with the requirements of modern life. Our average standard of attainment is very low, and the reason is plain, — we have wasted our resources. But happily we are ceasing to be proud of the fact that we “have four hundred colleges and universities.”With us, as in England, the conviction is deepening that the founding of a college is not necessarily a blessing to the community. Accordingly, the two most recent proposals for university reform have had in view a shortening of the undergraduate course to facilitate an earlier entrance on the professions, and a general elevation of the standard of culture for the whole country through a proper division of labor. The earnest discussion drawn out by President Eliot’s recommendation to reduce the course of Harvard to three years has called attention to the arbitrary barriers still set up between the so-called “ disciplinary ” and the professional studies ; while President White’s suggestive plan for relegating most of our colleges to the rank of gymnasia, intermediate between the public schools and a small group of real universities, places before us in unmistakable terms the wastefulness and the inherent vices of petty endowments, — the imperative need of large revenues in order to meet the demands of modern science. But in its details Dr. White’s classification is impracticable, it seems to me, because it ignores organic and historical differences in the character of American schools. The smaller colleges and the smaller universities, whether sectarian or secular, whether resting on private endowments or created and supported by the State, will in due time, it is hoped, through a process of evolution, directed by “ right reason ” and wise “educational effort,”take their places in the lower rank assigned them in this scheme. The differentiation of a class or classes of real universities as opposed to a more numerous body of intermediate colleges, frankly acknowledging themselves to be such, will indeed, there is reason to believe, be the result of social evolution. But that evolution must necessarily express, not ignore, the deeper lines of historical development. It must have as its vital principle a powerful social idea, a national sentiment. Now, as a matter of fact, is not such an evolution really in process, — an evolution whose roots are in past generations, which is sustained by national policy, and which needs only more conscious direction to enable it to produce the requisite concentration and a standard of academic culture which shall at any rate prove satisfactory to the people ? Such an evolution may be seen, I think, in the rise of a close relation between the State and higher education. I venture to suggest that any hopeful plan for a division of labor among collegiate institutions must begin with the state universities. Even the oldest of these have had but a brief experience ; yet so uniform and rapid has been their development that already two facts are plainly revealed: first, the state university is the latest and noblest product of the same tendency in American thought which has produced the common school ; secondly, through its novel and close relation to the State, it has differentiated a distinct organism and a distinct character which entitle it to be regarded as the American type. These propositions will now be discussed in the order named.

I. The rise of a national sentiment and a national policy in favor of the public support of lower education preceded and prepared the way for a like development in case of the higher, and therefore it will be first noticed. The genesis of the American free school system must be sought in the early town records of New England. In the old home, popular education had been looked upon as the proper function of the clergy aided by private benevolence. Neither public nor local taxation was thought of for this purpose. In the New World, the conception of the proper sphere of local and state action was broadened. Just as the celebration of marriage was handed over to the justice of the peace and the probate of wills to the county court, so the supervision of primary and secondary education was taken from the church and vested in the civil community. Before the middle of the seventeenth century the Massachusetts towns were supporting free schools by local rates voted by themselves, and long before the Revolution primary education had been made practically compulsory throughout the greater part of New England. An ordinance of the Dorchester town meeting in 1645 contains all the essential features of our present school district organization. In 1647, the General Court of Massachusetts required every town of fifty families to establish elementary schools ; and soon after grammar schools were provided for in larger towns. A great epoch in the history of social progress was thus made when our New England ancestors recognized the support of popular education as the proper function of local government. The introduction of the school rate as a legitimate item of public taxation deserves a memorable place in American annals. The event is all the more remarkable because it anticipated the development of thought in the mother country by two centuries and a half ; for, on account of religious strife and the dread of secularizing education, it was not until 1890 that a general system of free public schools was established in England. Our forefathers, it is true, in this instance, as on some other occasions, builded more wisely than they knew. It was probably not imagined, in 1647, that public education was really being taken out of the hands of the church. Indeed, the primary motive of the Massachusetts statute of that year was to promote religious knowledge, — to circumvent the wiles of “yt ould deluder Satan,” and prevent the true sense of Scripture from being “ clouded by false glosses of saint seeming deceivers.” But before the Revolution the theory of state support of popular education was consciously accepted, with a good understanding of its inevitable consequences. It is difficult to exaggerate the gift of New England to the American people; for though elsewhere, in the middle colonies and in the South, free public schools were planted, and sometimes were encouraged by legislation, to the New England colonies chiefly is due the honor of having created an American system of secular common schools, and of having fostered into vigorous life the American political sentiment that the State should educate her children as a safeguard to herself. With the adoption of the Ordinance of 1787 this idea found expression as a distinct policy, which has been acted on consistently ever since. Not only does the compact declare that in the territory northwest of the Ohio “ schools and the means of education shall forever be encouraged; ” but already in the Ordinance of 1785, for the survey and sale of Western lands, it had been provided that lot number sixteen in every township should be reserved for the support of public schools. A similar provision was made in the grant to the Ohio Company in 1787. Here also Congress, like the Puritans of 1647, did not fully appreciate the importance of its acts. Dr. Knight has shown that the gift of Congress “ was not made with the sole thought of promoting education,” but rather was wrung from it, as a necessary inducement to customers in the sale of Western lands. Nevertheless, a national policy was established. Every State since admitted into the Union has received one or two sections in each township for the support of common schools. Thus the national government joins hands with the State, and the State with the local communities, in the support of popular education. The common school as a political institution is already thoroughly affiliated with other members of the social body. It no longer sustains merely a relation to the social organism ; it has become a part of it. It is a township in miniature, whose meeting votes taxes and makes by-laws as naturally as does the town meeting itself. Apparently, it is nearly as well grounded as if, like the township, its roots were planted in the ancient German forest. So firmly has the idea of a completely secularized public school laid hold of popular sentiment that any sectarian attack upon it is sure to call forth general and indignant resistance, as an assault on one of the most sacred of American principles.

The secularization of higher education has been a matter of much slower growth, and the causes are not far to seek. In method, organism, and sometimes in spirit, the foundations of the colonial era were reproductions of Cambridge or Oxford colleges. The principal defects of the English system were perpetuated. The English universities were modeled directly upon the University of Paris, and therefore were dominated by monastic traditions. They were state institutions placed in subordination to a church establishment. Most of the early American colleges were intended practically to be the same. In fact, if not always in theory, they represented the union of church and state. They were created primarily to provide a learned ministry, and next for the general public good. The idea of the age is well expressed in the charter of Yale, whose foundation was entrusted by the Assembly to ten “ reverent ministers of the gospell ” who, out of their “ zeal for the upholding and propagating of the Christian protestant religion, by a succession of learned and orthodox men,” had petitioned for the establishment of a school in which youth may be “ fitted for publick imployments both in church and civill state.” Thus the ecclesiastical tradition, though weakened, entered into the life of the American college, — the idea of a necessarily close relationship between the professorial and the priestly office ; and this tradition has been very difficult to overcome. The narrow sphere assigned to higher education in the early college is also a part of our English heritage. Divinity, mathematics, and the dead languages — the principal elements of the traditional " classic " course, until a few years since the only honorable part of our curriculum — were the chief subjects of study. A premium was put upon the acquisition of Latin and Greek at the expense of the mother tongue. In short, from the English universities of the seventeenth century — then just entering upon that era of decline which reached its lowest point in the time of Gibbon and Adam Smith — we have inherited that mediæval spirit which has prevented our schools from entering into their proper relations to society. Still, the germs of our present system of state schools were planted in the colonial period. In nearly every instance the college was aided by the legislature, through taxation, exemptions, grants of land, and appropriations of money. Harvard, in particular, was in all these ways drawn into close connection with the State. Indeed, before the Revolution, she appears to represent the nearest approach to the modern idea of a state college. Fortunately, also, her charter was surprisingly liberal. It contained neither sectarianism nor dogma. By it the college was not placed in dependence on the Puritan clergy. So that Harvard, without violating the letter of her charter, has at last become a foremost leader in the secularization of American culture ; and in these days, naturally enough, like the state university, she has to endure the assaults of sectarianism on the alleged ground of irreligion.

The colonial era was therefore a time of preparation; but the conception of the completely secularized state university did not yet exist. Its rise was made certain by that event, so full of significance for the entire institutional history of this country, to which I have already referred, the adoption of the Ordinance of 1787. Ten days after that instrument had declared the encouragement of education to be a public trust, two townships were reserved by Congress, in the grant to the Ohio Company, for the endowment of a “literary institution,” to be applied to the intended object by the legislature of the State. Soon after, a third township was set apart for a similar purpose in the Symmes tract. Thus was the first step taken in the development of a national policy. Tennessee and every State admitted into the Union since 1800, except Maine and West Virginia, which had no public lands, and Texas, which was abundantly able to take care of herself, have received two or more townships for the endowment of higher education. To these so-called “ seminary ” grants many flourishing institutions owe their origin.

A second and more important step was taken in 1862. By the Morrill act of that year, one of the noblest monuments of American statesmanship, every State is given thirty thousand acres of land “ in place,” or its equivalent in “ scrip,” for each of its Senators and Representatives in Congress, for the purpose of endowing “ at least one college, where the leading object shall be, without excluding other scientific and classical studies, and including military tactics, to teach such branches of learning as are related to agriculture and the mechanic arts, ... in order to promote the liberal and practical education of the industrial classes in the several pursuits and professions of life.” Here the central thought is utility, to do something for society which the existing colleges are not doing. In his own words, the fundamental idea of Senator Morrill was to assist “those much needing higher education for the world’s business.” This magnificent gift has been the means of aiding about fifty colleges and universities; and of these, according to Professor Blackmar, at least thirtythree were called into existence by it. Moreover, it is strong evidence that the educational policy of the national government is gaining popular sanction that Congress has felt justified in supplementing the gift of 1862 by two later endowments. The Hatch bill of 1887 gives to each State fifteen thousand dollars a year, for the purpose of establishing “ experiment stations ” in connection with the colleges of agriculture and the mechanic arts ; and the act is especially noteworthy as a legislative attempt on a wide scale to render science useful to the people. Already many stations have been organized and much good work has been done. Thus, not only is an organized host of trained scientists led to extend helping hands to every branch of agricultural industry, but the influence of all this new activity on the general academic life is stimulating in a high degree. Finally, by the Morrill act of 1890, each State is granted an additional sum of fifteen thousand dollars, to be increased until the annual amount reaches twenty-five thousand dollars, to further the general educational objects of the endowment of 1862.

Here, then, is a fact of the greatest historical significance. Almost before society is aware of it there has come into existence an American system of public universities, at once the complement and the crown of an American system of public schools. In its creation, as in the creation of the latter, the State has joined hands with the nation. The gifts of Congress have been administered solely by the State, which, be it well noted, has supplemented them by liberal taxation and generous appropriations. In the West and Southwest, which have profited both by the seminary and agricultural grants, the state university is already the great educational fact, the educational heart, of the community. In its history, if I read the signs of the times aright, is involved the history of higher education in the United States.

II. If we now fix our eyes on the six or eight foremost schools of the Northwest, whose development has been guided mainly by the University of Michigan, — not forgetting that some of our best institutions elsewhere, from Vermont to the Carolinas, are state schools, — we shall see that the differentiation of the state university has been determined by its peculiar relation to society. Governed usually by a board of regents, whose members are either appointed by the governor or elected by popular vote, organized under the laws of the State, often dependent on the legislature for present means of support, it touches the general body politic at every point, and its pulse beats in sympathy under every influence which affects the commonwealth for good or ill. It is in an important sense itself a political body, and in this fact lies its permanent strength, and sometimes its temporary weakness. Thus its growth has been retarded by a lack of public sympathy. In 1787 it was the zeal of Pickering, Cutler, and their associates which forced the adoption of the new educational policy upon a reluctant Congress. Thought was in process of transition. It was dimly foreseen that the proposed seminaries must be secular schools; hence, in the case of Ohio, religion received a separate endowment; and even this experiment was not repeated. But the growth of a popular sentiment in favor of the state university was long hindered by two powerful forces. One was the tradition that religious instruction ought always to constitute an essential part of higher education ; and this idea was not weakened by the dread of rivalry on the part of the private colleges. A second influence was the belief, also a survival, that higher education is a luxury for wealth and leisure to enjoy, not a necessity of life for the industrial and political callings. There are still men of culture and liberal views, warm friends of the free school, who are opposed, on principle, to the public maintenance of higher education. The writer has known the support of the state university to be seriously imperiled, and even its accumulated revenue partially withheld, on this ground; with how little justification will, it is hoped, presently be made clear. Public apathy and lack of foresight have had their worst consequences in the management of the “ seminary ” lands. The pitiful tale has been twice told, and need not be repeated. Suffice it to say that Ohio, after a century, receives from her sixty-nine thousand acres the wretched pittance of some thirteen thousand dollars a year. Indiana has fared a little better. Illinois simply flung her lands away at one dollar and a quarter an acre, and then for nearly thirty years her legislature misappropriated the slender income of the fund to other uses in order to decrease taxation. In this case, at least, the jealousy of private colleges was in part responsible for the selfish course pursued. Wisconsin has been the rival of Illinois in bad management. Her endowment was squandered chiefly as an inducement to immigration. It reveals the state of public sentiment that some of her lands were offered by the legislature at a less minimum price than that for which the common school lands at the same time were sold. Even those States which, like Michigan, Minnesota, and Nebraska, have been most prudent in the management of their endowments have come far short of an ideal policy; and this applies also to the grant of 1862. Everywhere the heritage of posterity has been discounted. Wherever practicable, all college lands remaining unsold should at once be taken from the market and leased, subject to reappraisement at short intervals. Moreover, a second serious error has been committed. In several cases, instead of using the proceeds of all the government grants for the endowment of one institution, two or more schools have been established. This is a wasteful policy, a repetition of the disastrous blunder of the religious denominations. The income from all the national gifts, however liberally supplemented by taxation and special appropriations, can never become a dollar too much for the support of one real university. Other things being equal, those States which, like Nebraska, Minnesota, and Wisconsin, have centralized their resources in the upbuilding of a single institution have the most prosperous future before them.

It was inevitable that the state university, like the public school, should become thoroughly secularized. Formal religious instruction has no place in an institution supported by general taxation. Yet a principle which seems so clear to the impartial judgment and so entirely in harmony with American ideas has been by no means silently admitted. On the contrary, in more than one instance its acceptance has been gained only after years of bitter controversy, and then under protest. In fact, the state university is still assailed by sectarianism with stock charges of irreligion and immorality. Nevertheless, it is evident that Christian influences prevail in the academic life. Probably in every faculty the great majority of the instructors are church members ; and they are often acknowledged leaders in the work of their respective denominations. Active Christian associations are everywhere maintained by the young men and women. In Ann Arbor, guilds for “ religious and social culture,” composed chiefly of university students, have been organized within the various churches. Theoretically it seems clear that the moral tone of the state university will remain in harmony with that of a society whose cardinal principle is entire separation of church and state. There must be full toleration. Hence religious tests in appointments have been abandoned by the foremost institutions. There are thoughtful men who believe that the moral atmosphere has become purer as the secularization has become more complete. Various influences, however, have coöperated to this end. No competent observer can doubt for an instant that the modern revolution in academic methods has effected a revolution for good in academic morality. Manliness, sincerity, and conscientiousness are the legitimate fruits of the present way of “ teaching by investigation.” The spirit of comparative science is more likely to foster honesty and truthfulness than is a regimen of conduct, and the laboratory is the best academic police system ever invented. Beyond question, the state university is a great moral power in the community. Nay, though the statement may prove startling to some, she tends in various ways to exert a salutary influence on the denominational schools. As she grows in strength and prestige her methods are imitated, and she becomes a standing rebuke to show and pretense, the vices to which the weaker colleges are particularly exposed, and to which they sometimes succumb.

But there are certain features of her policy which may have much to do with determining the moral character of the state university. Of these the most important is coeducation. It was perhaps to be expected in the democratic West that women should enjoy the same privileges as men in schools sustained by the public bounty. Yet it was not until 1870 that the University of Michigan ventured to open her doors to both sexes on equal terms. Her example has been followed by every state university in the West, and by most of the denominational schools. It would doubtless be rash, at so early a day, to predict the ultimate consequences of coeducation. It may, however, be stated that, in the opinion of almost every Western educator qualified by experience to form a judgment, its present results are good, and it is likely to remain a permanent element of public education.

Finally, it may be mentioned that the dormitory does not generally flourish in connection with the state universities. With the abandonment of this survival of the ancient English “halls ” and “hostels,” the problem of discipline is greatly simplified. Hazing and vandalism are seldom seen in the West. There is little dissipation. The student, while devoting himself mainly to the special objects of his academic life, remains a member of the social body. He strives to put away childish things, and does not forget that his chief business is to prepare himself for the performance of social duty. He learns that the best way to fit himself for active life is to remain a part of it. There really does not appear to be any good reason for lamenting the decay of those much-lauded associations which college life in community is said to foster. With that other fond superstition, “class spirit,” let this one also be relegated speedily to its proper place among the traditions of the past; for is not the development of a healthy civic sentiment a far nobler object of university education ? It may prove also that the weakening of the somewhat artificial bond of the class leads to the strengthening of those more natural affiliations which exist wherever there is a freer commonalty.

In the evolution of her educational policy, the state university has from the very beginning looked to Germany for guidance. Only in that nation did there exist a state system of higher education which could be studied with profit. By a fortunate circumstance, the University of Michigan was brought directly under the influence of German ideas at the time of her organization, in 1837, through the adoption by the legislature of a report of Mr. J. D. Pierce, superintendent of public instruction, who had made a careful study of the Prussian schools. But there has been no servile imitation. Outwardly, the state university, with its group of separately organized schools, colleges, or departments, each comprising a constantly increasing number of parallel courses, follows in broad outline the German model. German methods have been adapted to American conditions, while the vitalizing influence of the free spirit of German inquiry is a safe guarantee that a worthy standard of culture will be attained. Indeed, the rapid growth of some, even of the younger, state universities in recent years is very largely due to the extraordinary number of their professors who have received their training at Leipzig, Berlin, or some sister school. Nevertheless, the founding of a state university has usually been no easy task. The problem of administration, in particular, has often, in the formative period, been the source of much misdirected effort and unseemly strife. Briefly stated, the fundamental reason therefor is failure to appreciate the really public character of such an institution. Very naturally, the influence of the old denominational college, with its narrow range of prescribed studies and its ecclesiastical traditions, has perpetuated itself in the faculties and governing bodies. Modern science and specialization have come tardily, under pressure of public criticism. Slowly it has become clear that the state university professor holds a novel position. He stands in full view of a public which pays his salary, and is therefore little disposed to show indulgence for pedantry or incapacity. To be really successful, he must be a man of broad sympathies and lofty ideals; he must keep in touch with humanity.

The state university cannot be said to have been very fortunate in the matter of the chief executive. Many a man of culture and good intentions has failed in the president’s chair, because he has been unable to rid himself of old ideals and adapt himself to new conditions. It has been impossible for him to perceive that, in a state university, professor, president, and regent hold each a public office which must be recognized. Hence he has played the part of “ universal doctor,”which is incompatible with modern specialization, and leads to insincerity ; or that of autocrat, which is an encroachment on the functions both of faculty and regents, and leads to revolution. Public sentiment in the West seems to favor a strong executive. But the old notion that the president should be “ chief educator ” is happily passing away. It is beginning to be realized that what is needed in the executive, at any rate in the present phase of state universities, is not profound learning, but administrative skill and capacity for public affairs. In short, the office of university president is becoming a business profession, in which only he who is specially fitted for it by nature or by training need hope for success. The University of Michigan has had her full share of trouble, but the remarkable development of the last twenty years is owing largely to the fact that she has had at the helm a man able to grasp the idea of the American state university. Under his guidance the institution has kept pace with social progress. To her is due in no small measure the liberalization of higher education in the United States. She has been a pioneer in various important reforms which have eventually found their way into other Western schools, sometimes into those beyond the Alleghanies ; and during the past two decades has been developed the system of accredited high schools, by which students are admitted to the University on diploma. This has already been carried from Michigan into several other States ; and it is a fact of great historical interest, for thus the American public school and the American public university have joined hands. In consequence, the latter is already taking deeper hold on the affections of the people ; and this result seems likely to be furthered by the movement for “university extension,”already promising so well in Wisconsin.

One important element of a real university is inherent in the very nature of a university supported by the State ; she must, when fully developed, aim at the universitas of knowledge; for her curriculum must satisfy the demands of a complex and progressive society, whose creature she is. First of all, a helping hand must be extended to the industries. The natural and physical sciences hold, and must continue to hold, a very high place in the academic life. Costly laboratories filled with expensive appliances are rapidly appearing. These challenge public appreciation, and money therefor is freely supplied. Nor are studies sometimes regarded as less practical neglected. Classical and modern philology have found a congenial home in the West. Sanskrit has gained zealous votaries beyond the Missouri. There, also, a laboratory of psycho-physics has just been erected by a disciple of Wundt. Colleges of medicine and law are likewise coming in response to popular demand. For in few things is the State more deeply concerned than in the growth of medical science; and in an age of social revolution, when every part of our legal and constitutional system is being probed to the bottom, when legislation is resorted to more and more as a healall for every public ill, real or imaginary, the State surely has urgent need of an educated bar as a safeguard to herself.

But in no way does the state university discharge her public trust more faithfully than in the study of those questions which directly concern the life and structure of our social organization. Administration, finance, constitutional history, constitutional law, comparative politics, railroad problems, corporations, forestry, charities, statistics, political economy, — a crowd of topics, many of which, a few years ago, were unheard of in the schools, are being subjected to scientific treatment. Unless I greatly misapprehend the nature of the crisis which our nation has reached, it is in the absolute necessity of providing the means of instruction in these branches that we may find a very strong, if not unanswerable, argument in favor of the public support of higher education. The bare statement of several well-known facts will enable us to understand the crisis of which I speak.

We have fairly entered upon the third great phase of our national development. The first phase closed with the Revolutionary War and the birth of the nation. The second was the creation and settlement of the Constitution, terminating with the civil war and the reëstablishment of self-government in the South. During this period our material resources were explored, population and wealth increased, and society became complex. We now find ourselves face to face with the momentous and difficult questions of administration. Henceforth the State must concern herself with the economics of government and with the pathology of the social organism. The fact is that in the science of administration, municipal, state, or central, we are as a nation notoriously ignorant. Beguiled by the abundance of our resources, we have allowed ourselves to become awkward and wasteful in nearly every department. But the growing discontent and misery of the people admonish us that the time for reform has come. Hereafter taxation and finance, the tariff and corporations, labor and capital, social evils and the civil service, must absorb the attention of statesmen. Now, all these things are precisely the problems which can be solved successfully only by specialists. No amount of experience or general information will enable the legislator who does not know how to gather and classify social and economic facts, or at least who does not comprehend the nature of the evidence afforded by such facts, to frame wise or even safe laws on these subjects. In future, only men carefully trained in the schools can safely be placed at the head of state departments. Yet as a matter of fact the ignorance of the average American law-maker in statistical, administrative, economic, and political science is incredibly profound. How really formidable is the danger which threatens us on account of unskillful tinkering with the delicate mechanism of society we cannot fail in some measure to appreciate when we reflect that the biennial volume of legislative enactments is constantly being enlarged; while at the same time a greater and greater portion of such enactments relates to what has hitherto been regarded as the proper sphere of individual liberty, to the most complex interests of commerce and other industries. Undoubtedly there is a growing tendency, for good or ill, to extend the domain of state interference and regulation. The State, therefore, has urgent need of citizens carefully trained in the science of politics. If she be justified in the maintenance of common schools, in order that every man may be fitted for the intelligent use of the ballot, she is also justified in the support of higher education, for her very existence may depend upon it. This may prove to be the safeguard of our republic. Indeed, it would seem that the statesmanship of the future must proceed from the school of political science. To study society itself, to afford the most ample means for the acquirement of a thoroughly scientific political education in every department, is the primary duty, the highest office, of the state university.

Such, then, is the tendency of American public education. Surely the outlook is full of promise. I do not believe that in the end the ideal of culture will be lowered by a too fierce utilitarianism. True, a new standard of culture may be established, one which shall adjust itself from generation to generation, according to the conceptions of an advancing civilization; and a new definition of culture may be constructed, one which shall embrace the industries and the mechanic arts. This will be well. It is no longer safe to set up an aristocracy of studies. From Germany even now comes the cry of over-education. An “ educated proletariat,” we are assured, is seriously threatening the security of the State. It behooves us well to heed the warning.

It seems probable, from what has been said, that the work of higher education in this country will in future be divided among three classes of institutions whose differentiation is well under way. From a national point of view, the group of state universities appears to be most important ; for eventually nearly every new State, as well as some of the original thirteen, will have a university which, as a rule, will outrank every other school within its borders. Here there can be no fixed or arbitrary standard of admission. The opportunities for continuation of study may indeed be very large ; but the state university must begin where the average high school leaves off. There will also be a small group of richly endowed private foundations, situated principally in the older States. For these the minimum requirement may safely remain very high ; and, from present indications, they will tend more and more to restrict their activity to graduate instruction. They will offer the best opportunity for specialization and the pursuit of culture for its own sake. There remains the formidable body of denominational colleges, having for the most part very slender resources, and consequently a very low average standard of attainment. For this class centralization is urgently needed; and it seems as if it were likely to be realized through the sharp rivalry of the universities. The first result of that rivalry is very suggestive. The denominational schools are themselves becoming secularized. The appointment of a layman as president of Amherst, of another as president of the Northwestern University at Evanston, and the choice of laymen as trustees of the new Baptist University of Chicago have recently attracted public attention as striking illustrations of this fact. Again, it is unquestionably true that leading churchmen are more keenly alive than ever before to the need of consolidation. There are indications of a movement in this direction which may become general. Already in some instances weak colleges have been discontinued, in order to build up strong central institutions. Without doubt these tendencies will receive the hearty encouragement of all thoughtful men. So it may happen in time that we shall have a class of good intermediate colleges ; while many foundations now bearing the name of college or university may be abolished, or relegated to the rank of training schools.

George E. Howard.