the cares of state for a season, pays his respects to the Great Republic, declines all ostentatious displays and tedious formalities, and in the simple character of a private citizen, travels to our remotest borders, examines our vast resources, visits our free schools, observes the evidences of a century's progress, and studies the causes of our unparalleled prosperity.

But we have other sources of encouragement and rejoicing no less inspiring than these. We have just passed the threshold of the second century in our national existence. We have commemorated its birth with unusual demonstrations of patriotic devotion. The acclamations of forty millions of people over the glad event have scarcely yet died away. The past, with its hopes and fears, its trials and struggles, its victories and defeats, its lessons and warnings, is left behind and is secure. The future with its incentives and discouragements, its responsibilities and duties, lies all before us and is ours to improve. It is fitting, therefore, that we should look at what we have been and are, to the end that we may more clearly discern what we ought to be and to do. And since we can read the future only in the light of the past, let us briefly contrast our circumstances in 1776 with those of 1876.

Then we were a community of thirteen feeble colonies, struggling singlehanded and alone, amid the throes of a revolution whose issue no man could clearly foresee. Now we are a nation of thirty-seven States and eleven Territories, great in all the elements of material strength and at peace with all mankind. Then we posessed an available area of but little more than 300,000 square miles. Now we control more than 3,500,000 square miles. Then our population was less than 3,000,000. Now it is more than 40,000,000. Then our coast-line, restricted to the Atlantic slope, was scarcely more than 2,000 miles in extent. Now we sweep along the margins of three great oceans, a gulf and the chain of lakes, giving us a coast-line, including Alaska, of not less than 8,000 miles. Then the Potomac, Delaware, Hudson, and Connecticut, with an aggregate length of fifteen hundred miles, were the principal arteries of commerce within our borders. Now the Mississippi with its tributaries, the Missouri, the Ohio, Arkansas, and others in the central region, and the Columbia on the western slope, give us, of navigable streams, a length of not less than 15,000 miles, with numerous other respectable streams left out of the calculation! Then the Alleghanies, with their hidden stores of iron and coal, the bone and sinew of modern industry, were our principal vertical reliefs. Now the vast Rocky-Mountain system, with its sierras and coast ranges, yielding its rich bonanzas of silver and gold, and surcharged with every element of mineral wealth known to science or useful to man, stands ever inviting the magic touch of educated labor to pour into the national coffers treasures far beyond the wealth of Ormus or of Ind. Then a narrow belt from eighty to three hundred miles in width, from the Appalachians to the sea, and from the old Granite State to Georgia, inclusive, comprised the sum total of our national farm. Now the broad savannas and limitless prairies of the Mississippi Valley, from 800 to 1,700 miles in breadth, and stretching from the "Unsalted Sea" to the Mexican Gulf, together with the alluvial bottoms of the great Pacific slope, really inconceivable in extent, are a part and parcel of our agricultural domain. Then the rudest implements of husbandry, mainly of wood, sufficed for

the small tracts that were brought under imperfect cultivation. Now it is no uncommon occurrence for labor-saving machinery, almost abolishing human muscle and the hot sweat of toil, to transform an entire township into "a little farm well tilled." Then a good strong man could carry all the implements needed on the farm, save the clumsy harrow and cart, upon his own broad shoulders. Now a railroad car can scarcely transport the outfit necessary for a single prosperous granger! Then for the toiling seamstress, it was nothing but

"Stitch! stitch! stitch!

"In poverty, hunger, and dirt."

Now the merry music of the sewing-machine has superseded the dolorous "Song of the Shirt." Then wind, water, and muscle were the reigning powers of propulsion and locomotion. Now the Genii of electricity and steam have nearly annihilated time, space, and resistance, made willing servants of the great powers of nature, and brought the ends of the earth into intimate communion. Then it was the rickety stage-coach over rustic bridges and corduroy roads at three miles an hour. Now it is the locomotive and the palace car, crashing over rivers and mountains, from ocean to ocean, in eighty-three hours. Then, in urgent cases, it was the courier and the express rider, with their relays of steeds, from Baltimore to Philadelphia in the space of a day. Now it is the telegram and cablegram around the world in the twinkling of an eye. Then the whitened sail must be spread to the gale for two or three months to compass the distance between the old world and the new. Now the stately steamship, like a Titan in armor, breasts the waves of the same restless sea in eight days. Then, as for ages before, a gentle mist arose with the sun of morning, and apparently floated away into the distant ether. Now its twin-sister, steam, is harnessed to the halfreasoning engine and tunnels the mountain, belts the broad prairie, spans the raging flood, whirls millions of spindles, shoots countless shuttles, revolves the light-giving printing-press, becomes mightiest of kings and most obedient of subjects. Then, through the researches of Priestly and Lavoisier, the knowledge of oxygen had just dawned upon the world. Now this capital discovery has dissipated absurd theories, resolved many mysteries, revolutionized manifold industries, and added immeasurably to the means of human happiness. Then the brilliant hues of the solar spectrum, as reflected in the bow of promise, set in the clouds, merely challenged the admiration of the curious or the reverence of the religious. Now the spectroscope has distanced the telescope, defied the laws of gravitation, palsied the arms of the chemical balance, invaded the realms of the king of day, cleared up the sun spots, determined the constitution of the planets and of star-dust, and given us something more than glimpses of "other worlds than ours."

But time would fail in the attempt even to outline the marvellous changes and beneficent advances coincident with the life of the republic. Nor can it be claimed that this wonderful progress is due to our own superior knowledge or prowess in mastering the circumstances of our extraordinary situation. It should seem to us, rather, that into our history have been crowded the rich fruitage of the thought and labor, the enduring and suffering of

all antecedent time. The toilers at the tower of Babel, the inventors of the lost arts, the designers and builders of the pyramids, the star-gazers on the plains of Chaldea, the alchemists searching for the elixir of life, and, above all, the Man of Sorrows bearing the burdens of a whole race, have thus helped to make us what we are, to exalt us to Heaven in our privileges and blessings.

The facts presented by these contrasts, however, owe their chief significance to their important bearing upon the questions we have met here to consider. They are factors of immense importance in the problem of universal education. They furnish both the means and motives for the great work before us. The expansion of our national domain, the enormous increase of our population, the multiplication of States, the wonderful development of our industries consequent upon the progress of scientific discovery, the arts of invention and the wider diffusion of knowledge, open up to us as a nation, innumerable possibilities, present us with better opportunities, and impose upon us higher responsibilities and more imperative duties in the education of the masses, than ever before fell to the lot of any portion of the human race. As to some of these duties, it will soon be appropriate to refer. Let us first, however, briefly glance at our comparative educational, as we have done of our material condition, at the opening and close of that act in the drama of our national existence now under review. Educational statistics seem to be a modern innovation. To secure those which are accurate and reliable is even now a difficult, if not an impossible task. The average school-district officer is a poor statistician. He is expert in proving that even figures can tell an untruth! In the general looseness that still pervades the administration of our State school systems it is hard to arrive at satisfactory results in this important direction.

During the earlier periods of our country's history, with no comprehensive system of school organization, statistics of this character were not possible. Hence, no very precise comparisons can now be made. We know that it was the custom of many of the wealthier class to send their sons to the mother-country for the training that was to fit them for the struggle of life.

Prior to 1776 but nine colleges had been established, and not more than five of these, we are told, were in a really efficient condition. Now, more than four hundred institutions bearing the titles of "college" and "university" are distributed throughout forty of the States and Territories, with nearly 57,000 students and 3,700 professors and teachers. Then little was done for the higher education of women. Now there are 209 female seminaries, with 23,445 students and 2,285 teachers. Then, says a writer in the New-England Journal of Education for June 10th of the present year, "professional schools were almost 'unknown. The candidate for the honors of the law, the dignities of the ministry, and, generally speaking, for the toils of medical practice, was obliged to pursue his studies under private tutors." Now there are 322.professional schools of the various classes, excluding teachers' seminaries, with 23,280 students and 2,490 instructors. Then Normal Schools had no existence on this continent. Now 124 are reported in the United States alone, with 24,405 students and 966 instructors. Then there were no commercial colleges. Now. 127 are in operation, with 25,892

students and 577 teachers. Then secondary and preparatory schools had scarcely a name by which to live. Now 1,122 are said to exist, affording instruction to 100,593 pupils and giving employment to 6,163 teachers. The Kindergarten, that last and best of educational inventions, is a very recent importation. In 1874 we were blessed with fifty-five of these human nurseries, with 1,636 pupils and 125 teachers. May their numbers rapidly increase. We have no means of giving the school population of those earlier days. It is not likely that it was ever ascertained. Now thirty-seven States and eleven Territories report an aggregate of more than 13,000,000, or more than four times the total population of the country in 1776. Then the school enrolment was, of course, unknown. Now it amounts to the respectable figure of about 8,500,000. Then the schools were scattered and their number was correspondingly restricted. Now they are estimated at 150,000, employing 250,000 teachers. The total income of the public schools is given at $82,000,000, their expenditures at $75,000,000, and the value of their property at $165,000,000.

Such are some of the facts and figures, expressed in round numbers and without any responsibility for their strict accuracy, that indicate the educational progress of the nation during its first century. They are as reliable, undoubtedly, as our present means for obtaining statistical information on this subject will warrant. They serve to afford us a general view of the situation, and such a view is the one that is most pertinent to an occasion like the present. They enable us to make at least a rough comparison between our material and educational growth, and to decide whether the latter is worthy of the former, and whether, as a people, we have acted up to the standard of our responsibilities and duties.

At first sight such figures are imposing and gratify our pride. We like to boast of the magnificence of our provisions for public education. It is a favorite theme in anniversary orations. It is pleasant to reflect that we have 150,000 public schools with 8,000,000 pupils and 250,000 teachers. We seem to be educationally rich with school property, valued at nearly $166,000,000, and an annual income of $82,000,000. These, when taken in the aggregate, are vast sums, leading many an urban, as well as rural financier, to "count the cost" and to affirm that our expenditures for education are extravagant and out of proportion to its importance and results.

But in order properly to appreciate our real position educationally, it is necessary to bring other important facts into the foreground. The figures thus far exhibited seem to indicate what we have done. There are others that tell us with impressive emphasis what we have not done. With a school population, as reported, of 13,000,000 we have an actual enrolment of but 8,000,000. The discrepancy between these numbers, is, at best, fearful to contemplate. Making all proper allowance in this difference of 5,000,000 for those who have left the schools and whose meagre "education is completed," we have a ghastly procession of tens of thousands of untrained children and youths marching on each year to swell the ranks of the more than 2,000,000 adult illiterates that are at once the danger and disgrace of the Republic.

The number of illiterates by the census of 1870, above the age of ten years, was, in round numbers, 5,500,000. Of these, more than 2,000,000

were adults, upwards of 2,000,000 more were from fifteen to twenty-one years of age, and 1,000,000 were between ten and fifteen years. Of the number between fifteen and twenty-one years, it is estimated that about one half have passed the opportunity for education. And, since it is well understood that a large proportion of the children in this country leave the schools, perhaps at an average age of ten or twelve years, the conclusion is irresistible that tens of thousands of those who are reported as illiterates between ten and fifteen years of age will forever remain so. Of the 930,000 illiterates between fifteen and twenty-one years, who have passed their opportunities for instruction, 137,000 are in the Northern States, 15,000 in the Pacific, and 778,000 in the Southern. The United States Commissioner of Education, in his report for 1871, truthfully remarks that "the survivors of these 930,000 boys and girls will all, within the next five years, be reckoned among the adult illiterate host of the country." And it is sad to reflect that, in this year of our national jubilee, there they actually are, our humiliation and reproach, a living protest against our indifference and neglect. Figures are proverbially dry, and I forbear to follow them further on this occasion than to say, that for reasons not now necessary to state, eminent authorities maintain that thirty per cent should be added to the reported statistics of illiteracy, in order to obtain the actual facts. On this hypothesis the number already quoted would be considerably increased. But enough has already been said, I trust, to challenge the renewed attention of the thoughtful and the patriotic to this great question of the hour: How shall we obliterate the illiteracy of our country?

To the foregoing considerations I cannot refrain from adding others of almost equal pertinency and importance. We must not make the fatal mistake of passing judgment upon the actual condition of education among our people, based upon the number enrolled, the number of schools or the amount expended upon them. The question of QUALITY here is paramount. Says an eminent English statesman and author, in an admirable work on Education Reform: "The goodness of Education is the first thing to be looked at. The diffusion of a bad system is the diffusion of an evil. Numbers here, so far from being matters of congratulation, are matters of regret. When we are told there are 60, or 600, or 6,000 schools, we are told nothing, sometimes worse than nothing. We do not ask for buildings merely, we ask for Education."

No thoughtful person, accustomed to penetrate through shadows to substances, through formalities to realities, can escape the conclusion that much of what passes for education in this country is not an unmixed good, but that much of our so-called teaching is an unmixed evil. Ignorance as well as learning has a wondrous power of reproduction. Ignorance has its grades and shades. A little learning is a dangerous thing. Given absolute illiteracy as the zero-point of ignorance, we might represent its upward grades by a few of the minor digits, with innumerable fractional intermediates which even the Calculus could never fitly indicate!

The ability to read and write is not education, nor necessarily, the beginning of it. The latter depends altogether upon the method pursued and the quality of the result. It depends upon the tendencies established, the dispositions fostered and the habits formed during the process of acquiring.