these professors among their fellow-men, and, while the profes ors might be pleased, and probably would be, the main question is, Would this change have any effect in the desired direction? Speculation on this subject seems to me of no value. If it be true that the men of the best intellects do not find their way into university circles, it is safe to assume that this is due to a great many conditions, and that the conditions are improving. The intellectual standards of our colleges and universities are gradually being raised. We can not force matters.

The best thing we can do for our students is to give them good professors. Sumptuous laboratories, large collections of books and apparatus, and extensive museums are well enough. They are necessary, no doubt. But I fear they are too much emphasized before the public. A university is, or ought to be, a body of well-trained, intelligent, industrious, productive teachers of high character provided with the means of doing their best work for their students, and therefore for the world.

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ADDRESSES AT THE INSTALLATION OF PRESIDENT BUTLER, OF COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.

[The installation of Nicholas Murray Butler, LL. D., as president of Columbia University took place April 19, 1902. The following extracts from the addresses delivered on that occasion are reprinted from the Supplement to the Columbia University Quarterly of June, 1902.]

[From the address by President ELIOT, of Harvard.]

The choice of president which the trustees of Columbia have made accords with the practice of the great majority of the larger American universities during the past thirty-five years. They have chosen a layman. In this respect Columbia acts now as Harvard, Yale, Pennsylvania, Johns Hopkins, Cornell, Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Northwestern, Missouri, Tulane, Colorado, California, Leland Stanford Junior, and Columbia itself have already acted. Moreover, the layman in this last instance is one whose life has been devoted to teaching and to educational authorship and administration.

All the American institutions of higher education have of late manifested a decided tendency to give their highest administrative positions to teachers or investigators, or writers on education, or to men who have united two of these functions. Many of the small colleges which were originally denominational in character, while preferring ministers as presidents, have chosen ministers who have been also professional teachers. For very successful instances of this procedure I need go no further than Dartmouth and Amherst. The young but vigorous University of Chicago acted on this principle in choosing its first president. The tendency is greatly to be commended, for the profession of education is certainly entitled to its own high administrative offices. This policy, however, which may now be said to have been adopted by the American institutions of higher education, marks emphatically the passing of the great business of education from the hands of the clerical profession-a signiäcant change.

President Butler comes to his great office at a fortunate moment. The planting of the university on a new and admirable site has been in good part accomplished through the administrative genius of his predecessor. The organization of Columbia as a true university, with a series of departments or schools whose courses lead to properly coordinated degrees, has been well begun. The professional schools of Columbia will doubtless soon be firmly based on the departments which give the first degrees in arts and sciences, so that professional study in Columbia will begin where the culture courses in arts and sciences leave off.

Until lately the true relation between professional courses and culture courses found no expression in the organization of any of the American universities, and

it still finds no expression in the organization of the great majority of those universities. When all the leading universities of the country require a degree in arts or science for admission to their professional schools of law, medicine, divinity, teaching, architecture, and applied science, an effective support will be given to the bachelor's degree in arts and science, such as has never yet been given in the United States, and the higher walks of all the professions will be filled with men who have received not only a strenuous professional training, but a broad preliminary culture.

It is plain that the future prosperity and progress of modern communities is hereafter going to depend much more than ever before on the large groups of highly trained men which constitute what are called the professions. The social and industrial powers and the moral influences which strengthen and uplift modern society are no longer in the hands of legislatures, or political parties, or public men. All these political agencies are becoming secondary and subordinate influences. They neither originate nor lead; they sometimes regulate and set bounds, and often impede. The real inventions and motive powers which impel society forward and upward spring from those bodies of well-trained, alert, and progressive men known as the professions. They give effect to the discoveries or imaginings of genius. All the large businesses and new enterprises depend for their success on the advice and cooperation of the professions.

[From the address by President PATTON, of Princeton.]

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* * We are living at a time when the interest of leading men in the affairs of our universities is widening every day. Men of wealth are giving with more than princely liberality to their endowment. They are doing this under the influence of high patriotic motives, rightly judging that to diffuse a taste for intellectual enjoyment among the people is to elevate the race and contribute to the sum of human happiness, and that the union of high ideals of living with a grasp of fundamental principles that underlie our social life is one of the surest guaranties of national stability. There is, however, a reciprocity of obligation arising out of this state of things. The universities must come out of their cloistered seclusion. They must understand that they are a part and that they have a part to play in the nation's life if they are to prove themselves worthy of the benefactions which they have received and which they are expecting. The world of science, the world of letters, and the world of philosophy have hitherto been regarded as the special domain of the university; but the university, if it is to do its full duty to the country, must take an interest also in the great world of affairs. The problems of government and the principles that underlie the phenomena of commerce must come within the purview of the university professor; and the student must acquire in our great seminary centers, or he at least must be given an opportunity to acquire, a philosophic insight into the fundamental concepts that control the practical affairs of life.

We shall continue, I suppose, to discuss as best we may the university curriculum, and whether in the end we shall approach a common position in regard to it; whether we shall tend toward perpetuating several fixed types of university study, one can not well predict; but of this I am sure: That in all our discussions we must remember that the will of the student is a factor to be reckoned with. Because a course of study is ideally the best it does not follow that it can be successfully made the curriculum for a young man who has attained his majority. When a student reaches the age of 20 or 21 it is too late to put before him the principle of utility made compulsory " as a university programme. And while I thoroughly believe that in the earlier stage of a boy's life it is no small part of his education to be required to do what he ought to do, however irksome it may be, because it is his duty to do it, I am also of the opinion that, considering the

age to which a young man has arrived when he enters the university, there is more outcome of culture in some studies which are less cultural in themselves, but which the student loves, than in some other studies which, though more essentially cultural, are nevertheless those which he hates and will not study.

I am sure, too, that the increased demand for time which is being made by the professional school is raising very serious questions in regard to the undergraduate curriculum, which we must heed. In some way that delightful period of comradeship, amusement, desultory reading, and choice of incongruous courses of what we are pleased to call study, which is characteristic of so many undergraduates, must be shortened in order that more time may be given to the strenuous life of professional equipment. What is the best mode of solving this problem I am not prepared to say, but I think that Columbia has taken a very important step in the direction of its solution.

I do not think that we can feel entirely satisfied with the results of our elaborate scheme of university education. We have multiplied, it is true, the subjects of study, and the wishes and aptitudes of the student are consulted as never before; but there is danger that the undergraduate will be brought into contact with unrelated scraps of knowledge on many subjects instead of having a cultivated mind and commanding a single department. I sometimes think that the most useful professor in a university is not necessarily the specialist nor the man of greatest acumen in a department, but rather the professor of encyclopedia, whose business it would be to discuss the relations of the various departments of instruction to each other; for, after all, of what value is a knowledge of the scattered facts that belong to the various provinces of academic study if the student has no world view under which he can organize his material? A bare knowledge of facts, no matter from what quarter they may come, is a matter of comparatively little worth. It is only when the student has hit upon some key to nature's cipher, it is only when he is using his facts in verification of some scientific hypothesis, that he is doing truly valuable scientific work. Otherwise he is only a census taker in the kingdom of nature; a cataloguer in the great library of truth, writing titles and reading the backs of books. I therefore consider it a good omen that the trustees of this university have chosen a philosopher to fill the presidential chair; for, be the facts what they may which come under the notice of the student, it is the philosopher, the apostle of the idea, who is needed to make these dry bones live.

[From the address by President HARPER, of Chicago University.]

Institutions of every kind sooner or later adjust themselves to the forward movement of civilization. This is particularly true of educational institutions, and among these such adaptation is especially to be noted in institutions of a higher grade. The history of higher education in the United States, from the year in which Harvard was founded to the present time, is, in fact, the history of the growth and development of American civilization. Each type of institution-for example, the New England college as it existed a hundred or more years ago in New England and exists to-day scattered all through the Western States; or the State university, which, in its proper form, may be said to be the product of the last half century; or the school of technology, in most recent years taking its place side by side with or as a part of the university; or the university in the stricter sense, which is the product of the last two decades-each type of institution, I say, represents a phase of growth or a stage of growth in the life of a nation. It is the very latest phase of institutional development that is illustrated by the growth and character of the university whose guests we are this afternoon. The trend of life in these last years seems to be toward that centralization which finds its most tangible expression in the growth of great cities. The same tendency

has shown itself in many of the activities which make up life, as well as in those things which relate to the places of living. Many have taught this as the most distinctive movement of the last quarter of a century. Everything points to an intensification of this movement rather than to its diminution. The city of a hundred thousand inhabitants fifty years ago is the city of a million to-day. What will the city of a million to-day be fifty years hence? No man can prophesy. While in connection with this massing together of human souls much is to be deprecated, and much of the good of life is lost, it is also true that by this concentration of human effort and the intense competition thereby provoked the world as a whole will be the gainer rather than the loser.

Just as in this way great multitudes of people are brought together in the various interrelationships of common life, so there are coming to exist types of educational institutions, lower and higher, adapted to this new environment. The public-school system of a city of two or three millions of inhabitants is an entirely different system from that which is adapted to the needs of a city of fifty or one hundred thousand people; and in our great modern cities there is to-day being wrought out a kind of school work as different from that of even fifty years ago as the methods of transportation and communication to-day are different from those of the same period.

It is just so with higher education. A university which will adapt itself to urban influence, which will undertake to serve as an expression of urban civilization, and which is compelled to meet the demands of an urban environment will in the end become something essentially different from a university located in a village or small city. Such an institution will in time differentiate itself from other institutions. It will gradually take on new characteristics, both outward and inward, and it will ultimately form a new type of university.

The urban universities found to-day in three or four of the largest cities in this country and the urban universities which exist in three or four of the great European centers form a class by themselves, inasmuch as they are compelled to deal with problems which are not involved in the work of universities located in smaller cities. These problems are connected with the life of the students, the care of thousands of the students instead of hundreds; the management of millions instead of thousands of dollars; the distribution of a staff of officers made up of hundreds instead of tens. Not only do new problems present themselves, but many of the old problems assume entirely different forms. The question, for example, of coeducation is one thing if considered from the point of view of an institution located in a village and having 200 or 300 students; it is, of course, a different thing in an institution having a thousand students and located in a small city, but it is a problem of still another kind when the institution has three or four thousand students and is in the heart of a city of one or two millions of people. The standards of life are different, and the methods of life are greatly modified; and what is true of this problem is true of a score or more.

In so far as an institution is intended to represent the life of those about it, their ideals, and their common thought, the task before an urban university is something as new and strange and complicated as is the life, political and individual, of these same cities; and just as the great cities of the country represent the national life in its fullness and in its variety, so the urban universities are in the truest sense, as has frequently been noted, national universities.

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[From the address by United States Commissioner HARRIS.]

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It is my part on this auspicious occasion to remind you of the public schools of the country and to bear testimony to the general interest everywhere in the event of to-day, not only throughout the State universities and city high schools, but among the teachers and superintendents of the elementary schools.

ED 1902-40

For you, sir, who come to-day to succeed a long line of distinguished presidents in this venerable seat of learning, you have for many years made yourself a welcome member of the National Association of Teachers and aided its deliberations by your counsels. You have endeared yourself to its members by your frank and cordial fellowship. From the first you have associated yourself with that goodly number of leaders in higher education in our land who have realized how important it is to conduct even the most elementary education of the people in the light of the highest and best in human learning. You have labored for the enlightenment of the masses, and you have seen that this enlightenment must come not from a people's school which gives possession of a limited number of technical acquirements, skilled manipulation, and trained facilities, but rather from a school which opens to the minds of the children a vision of the far-off shining summits of human achievement in letters, and art, and in heroic service to humanity.

Elementary education ought to create a divine discontent with all kinds of arrested development. It ought to kindle an aspiration for daily growth by means of the library, the periodical, the social gathering.

Man alone of living creatures on the face of this planet can make a ladder of the past and climb thereon by progressive ascent from generation to generation. The university reveals many rounds of this ladder, while the elementary school reveals only one or two rounds and may be so poorly taught as to occasion a belief in the mind of the average pupil that he has reached in six or eight years a level summit of all that is solid and enduring in human progress.

From this Philistinism it is the good fortune of our land to have defenders not only in the choice of leaders of the corps of instructors in elementary schools, high schools, and State universities, but in all public-spirited professors and presidents of privately endowed institutions.

Statistics collected from all parts of the land show that the acting majority of the people share your convictions in this matter. The nation grows in wealth from decade to decade, and the people show their desire to better the condition of their children by giving them an opportunity for more education. Thus the number of college students in each group of 1,000,000 of our population has now reached 1,285 persons, while thirty years ago it was only 590, and the people seem intent on giving the opportunity of a secondary education as well as a primary education in all parts of the United States. During the past ten years the number of public high schools supported by taxation increased from 2,526 to 6,005, and the number of students enrolled in them increased from 203,000 to 520,000, or two and one-half times the former number. Eight years' schooling belongs to the elementary school course and four years' more to the high school course; thus the voting population of the United States have chosen to add four years more of instruction to the eight years given in the elementary schools. While twelve years of free public education are possible in all of our cities and large villages, the people have not been able as yet to avail themselves of it. The actual average amount of schooling obtained in public and private schools throughout the United States in the year 1900 amounted to five years of two hundred days' actual attendance each. But this small amount of schooling, which hardly sufficed for reading, writing, the elements of arithmetic, and geography, is 50 per cent greater than the amount of the average education received thirty years ago.

In the two parts of higher education the first, or that of undergraduate study in the college, is devoted to learning principles that will connect the present with the past and unite them in one organic whole. The student must learn to interpret the present in terms of the past and also the past in terms of the present, so that he may acquire a habit of seeing the world as a progressive development from nature to man and from man as animal towards man as image of the