to say that skill in teaching can dispense with a knowledge of the things that are to be taught. But when we survey the whole range of actual discussion and single out its really pivotal issues, we find that these all turn upon the central inquiry-how shall we educate?

If, for a moment, we emphasize the narrower meaning of "education," it may then appear that the question as here formulated is quite irrelevant to the seminary. If by educating we are to understand the development of intellectual and volitional power or the training of the mind or the imparting and acquiring of culture, we are forthwith reminded that we should turn our attention to the college and preparatory school rather than to the seminary. The student on entering the seminary is supposed to be educated. Presumably, he has acquired, along with a certain amount of knowledge, the ability to think, the power to express his thought and at least the essential means, such as the languages, to pursue studies of a higher sort. But in that case, what interest can the seminary have in the educational problem or the educative process?

The answer, of course, is plain, and some of those who are engaged in seminary work may wish perhaps that the interest were always sustained by pleasant or satisfactory experience. For it stands to reason that the seminary cannot undertake to do over again the work which the college is supposed to have done. Nor does it seem desirable to establish a system of conditions like that which is so largely maintained by the colleges themselves in admitting students to undergraduate courses. This plan might be feasible where college and seminary are under the same roof or are parts of one institution; but even then there are obvious inconveniences-drawbacks for the student himself and unevenness in the arrangement of classes. The desirable thing is that the student coming up from college should be really equipped not only

with a liberal education in the ordinary sense of the term, but also with that special sort of education which will enable him to get the full profit of seminary teaching from the first day he enters.

I am not here to present an indictment against the college nor a brief in the seminary's defence. I merely wish to show that whether the seminary's complaints are well founded or not, it must of necessity concern itself with a very large section of the educational field that lies outside its walls. As a matter of fact, the college with equal right can refer us back to the preparatory school and lay the blame, if any blame there be, at its doors. This may not be the wisest or fairest course to pursue; but so far as it is a possible course, it only brings out more clearly the dependence of each institution upon the others and the need of more thorough articulation.

But here let me point out the phase of the situation that bears most directly on our question. The moment the seminary enters into consultation with the college and preparatory schools, it comes inevitably upon the problem of education, and it is hard to see how good results can be got from such consultation unless there be an understanding on all sides of the question at issue. The college and the school are constantly engaged in the discussion of those questions which arise in the field of general education, and in the endeavor to reach their solution. Of necessity our teachers in school and college must take note of the educational movement that is going on around them, of new theories whether well founded or not, of methods that may be useful or worthless, of ideas and even of terms that quickly become current in the educator's thought and language. Now the result of this contact with the general movement affects, in the first instance, our schools and colleges themselves; but it also helps to shape the education of those who are to enter the seminary; and it therefore affects, in a very serious way, the work of the seminary also.

Let us look at one or two matters in detail. A question of considerable importance just now is the relative value of the cultural and vocational elements in education. Shall either of these predominate? Or, how shall they be adjusted with a view to their mutual advantage? How soon shall we allow the pupil to take up studies that are intended to fit him for a particular sort of work, or business, or calling? These assuredly are points of discussion that seem to lie below the horizon of the seminary teacher. And yet we all know that he is deeply concerned both with cultural studies and with vocational studies of a very special kind. Now suppose that our schools in some considerable number and to some appreciable degree should fall in with the tendency that prefers the vocational work to the cultural. May it not happen that some who would otherwise go to the seminary will be drawn away into other callings? May not the early specialization which is now styled "vocational" interfere with vocation in the stricter ecclesiastical sense? But if we grant that such a result is possible, the significance for the seminary of such problems is at once obvious.

Take a further illustration, from an issue that is by no means out of date, but is simply passing into a new phase. Whatever be the merits of the elective system or its shortcomings, it certainly commands the attention of our college faculties and sets before them a question which they are bound to answer one way or another. Assume for our present purpose, that the college, acting in view of the educational situation at large rather than of what the seminary interests may require, should give a wider range to electivism and that the student in consequence should elect his courses, as so often happens, in accordance with his present tastes or inclinations and with little thought as to what may best equip him for subsequent work. Has the seminary any concern in this selection; and if so, can it waive aside as of little or no

importance the practice of electivism and the principles on which it is based?

Even where some value is attached to cultural studies and where electivism is kept within reasonable bounds, one frequently encounters the tendency to omit one or both of the classic languages from the list of prescribed subjects and to replace them with one or several of the modern languages. By this arrangement, a larger place in the curriculum is secured for the natural sciences and the length of the undergraduate course is reduced to a minimum or at least to the limits that professional studies demand. It would be superfluous, of course, to insist that the candidate for the seminary must have both Latin and Greek. But may it not be profitable to consider the advisability of allowing more time for French and German and of providing more thorough instruction, say in physics, chemistry and biology? Is there not some economy of time or condensation of class-work in the college, or perhaps some reapportioning of courses as between college and seminary, that will provide a better preparation for philosophy and theology? The question occurs here, not to be discussed on its own merits, but merely to furnish one more illustration of the bearing that education in general has and must have on things that are essential to the seminary. And these several illustrations may suffice to bring out the meaning of the statement with which I would answer the first part of our question; the seminary naturally and inevitably is concerned with general educational problems because the solution of these, by school and college, determines, in a very significant way, the fitness of the student to undertake the work of the seminary and to accomplish that work in a manner that will do justice to the seminary as well as to his own high vocation. In other words, the seminary cannot shirk the general problems of education without hampering or even impairing its own efficiency, either by allow

ing students who are not properly qualified to follow its courses, or by modifying its standards and methods to meet the needs of such students. Whichever alternative it may choose, it runs the risk of sending out men whose education has not fitted them on the intellectual side for their priestly functions.

II

When we come to consider these functions somewhat more in detail, and try to define the attitude that the seminary should take, the general educational problem appears in a new and more searching light. The student, we have said, carries with him into the seminary certain qualifications that are determined by the general educational movement. But now it must further be noted that the priest on leaving the seminary is brought into contact with that movement at various points. So far as he may attempt to escape such contact, he impairs his usefulness to the Church; and so far as he may be expected to do his full duty in this respect as in all others, he should receive in the seminary the necessary preparation. It is, therefore, a matter both of prudence and of justice on the part of the seminary teacher to survey the field which lies ahead of the student and to equip him betimes with the knowledge and skill which he will eventually need.

Among the effects produced by modern education is a certain way of looking at things, perceiving their relations, connecting new ideas with old, stimulating and sustaining interest, translating thought into action and consolidating action into habit. It is, if you please, the particular way of working or functioning which characterizes the mind's development and makes other modes of thinking either difficult or impossible. It is not so much a content that has been acquired as a form into which all later acquisition is cast; not primarily a settled and definite store of information but rather a power