bandied about by those who have never thoroughly understood any page he has written, and who seem to be unaware that the subject of their "chatter" is a man whose shoe-strings they are not worthy to unloose.

One of the main causes to which we owe this unsystematic, superficial playing at studying lies at the door not so much of our universities as of our schools, and is the fault not so much of our school teachers as of our parents, especially our mothers. They, unless they are exceptions, and we are not now dealing with exceptions, do not expend very much thought on the subjects to which they set us. In most cases they follow the usual choice of other fathers and mothers; and in this way we all get a little English, a little history, a little geography, a little arithmetic (usually a very little-it is the one subject which requires some thinking), and then, as we grow older, a little French or German, a little playing, and

a little singing. All these are good. It is important and beneficial in our education that we should know a little of as many things as possible; but it is admittedly as important and beneficial a part of our education that we should know more than a little about something. I do not insist that on some one subject our education should be so full as if we were preparing ourselves to profess it as a calling or business of life; but it should at least be thorough enough for us to realize the full difficulties and full meaning of the subject-the height and breadth and depth of it as a whole. We should be so firmly based in its rudiments at least, that standing on that pedestal we can look out on a scope beyond our reach, and follow with our sympathy and appreciation, if not more closely with our understanding, those who have travelled further than we. And this intelligent sympathy once gained would not be confined to one study, but would extend to all.

This phase of education-"everything about something"-is not enough insisted on; while the other-" something about everything has too much prominence. Our course of study is thus too much an omnium gatherum, a collection of odds and ends arranged on no rational system. Even good soup cannot be made in this hap-hazard way. Suppose our cooks to put in a little of this thing, and of that, and of that other thing, just in such quantities as came to hand, and for no reason at all, except that 'likely it will do no harm'! If we may ride this remote analogy one stage further, our educational soup is too often without 'stock.' It is, in short, a general sort of soup, no soup in particular. And the result is that our education leaves us-unless by some accident of fortune -with no individuality, with no special interest in, or hold on, life, because we have no special interest in any branch of life; prepared to see no deep significance

in the world around us, as we have caught glimpse of none in our studies; not necessarily dull, perhaps even clever, but characterless; members of that large class of which Thackeray in The Newcomes has drawn a fairly representative type in Miss Rosey Mackenzie.

So far of the danger of Dilettantism. Let us look for a moment at the danger of Pedantry.

'Education,' in its derivative sense, means a 'drawing out,' a 'development,' of our characteristic powers as men and women-our capacities of thought and feeling, our intelligence and taste. Examinations, then, as a test of education, must be a test of these powers, as exercised in the knowledge of the subject in question. Now, it is well known, that examinations, at least as usually conducted, are a better test of memory than of thought and judgment. If the mere passing of an examination paper is our only end and aim, or even

B

our chief end and aim, it is not altogether illogical to reason as follows :—

'Why should we take the trouble of thinking and feeling for ourselves at all, why educate our intelligence and taste, when our thinking and feeling are done for us and we can procure intelligence and taste ready-made? Have we not got text-books and histories and Clarendon Press editions, where some diligent plodding and a good memory will serve our purpose, with the additional advantage that they do not vex our brains, if we have them; and if we have not, who is the wiser ? Why take the highroad of education, of 'drawing out' our highest powers, when the shortcut of 'cramming in' the results of others' powers brings us to our goal?" And if that goal be the mere passing of an examination, I cannot say why we should!

Those who uphold the present craze for examination and competition in our studies tell us that these stimulate our application and accuracy. This may be