that they should get only "events". When some of these pupils were asked what there was in history besides "events", they were unable to respond. And what is more serious, they were not very much interested to find out what else there could be. What they wanted to do was to get the names of forty events in order to meet the test which the teacher would make at the appointed hour. The present writer tried out some of these pupils by asking them what difference there was between a cause in history and an event; and there was not one reasonably satisfactory answer given. The responses indicated that these particular pupils had gained no clear notion of causes operating in European history. They had been impressed mainly with the supreme value of unrelated dates, names and events.

Certain of the pupils being observed with reference to their method of performing this task, it was Formal exactness noticed that their chief fear was rather than ef- that they might not get the exact fective thinking dates. They were sure it would not be satisfactory to say that a given event occurred in such a period or about such a year—for instance, that Alaska was purchased about such a time. The precise year must be memorized for the examination. But it was evident that the exact year for any event would not be permanently remembered. Al

though the class had previously been over these events, it is significant to note that not one pupil in ten could be sure of any date without hunting it up in his text-book or elsewhere. What possible value could it be to these pupils to try to remember forty dates? Was it not a positive injury to right historical thinking to require the memorizing of the precise year of an event by novices, since this would be forgotten, and the event itself would not be located in its relation to other events in European history? If the pupils had been asked simply to learn about when, and especially in connection with what related events any event occurred, they would have been more likely to have got a feeling for the relation of important periods to one another.

The chief defect in such a lesson as the above, which is typical of much that may be seen in the schools, is that it fails to exalt what is of prime importance in the study of the subject in hand. If the teacher had said, "Bring me an account of five events in European history, and show me what led to these events, what followed them, and how European life and history were affected by them," she would have drawn the attention of her class to knowledge of genuine value, and within the range of interest and capacity of pupils in the junior year of the high school. It will not be doubted by any

one who has reflected upon it that the service of history in education is dependent upon the extent to which the ability is thereby developed in pupils to trace causes and effects in human society. The memorizing of isolated historical events can hardly be of value in any individual's life; and what is of chief consequence, when much work of this sort is required of him, it tends to establish a habit of mind which makes him content with the mere acquisition of disjointed facts, which is hostile to the development of thinking ability.

While we are considering the teaching of history, attention may be called to the character of the ideas Historical ideas presented, as well as to the method that relate to of presenting them. We wish our every-day life pupils to gain from their work in history some help in thinking straight in respect to matters of contemporary interest in society. But can this be accomplished when instruction relates mainly to war, and but very little to peace? The writer has just come from a conversation with a high-school sophomore regarding his study of history. It was an informal talk about the matters that have interested the boy in the history he has studied in the elementary school, and during his first year in the high school. In this conference the fact that impressed the writer most deeply was the boy's strik

ing ignorance of the men who had contributed to the literary, esthetic, commercial, educational, and religious development of the race, and particularly of our own country. He is rated as a good student, in both the elementary and the high school, and he probably has gained as much from his history as any of those who have been taught with him; and yet here in the sophomore year of the high school, history is to him principally a record of wars. He knows the names of many of the military heroes of ancient and modern times, and he can talk intelligently about the outcome of some of the world's great battles; but in school his attention has been called in only the most casual way to the really vital movements in the history of mankind. He knows something about Napoleon, but practically nothing about Pasteur. He can describe the principal achievements of Wellington; but Darwin, Herbert Spencer, and Gladstone are mere words to him. This boy apparently knows little if anything about the life of the Greek and the Roman people, except such of it as was displayed in their military adventures. He has read somewhere of Raphael and Angelo, but he has no distinct idea what they have contributed to the development of the race. He can not recall that he has ever heard of Pestalozzi, Fröbel, or Horace

Mann; but he is well up on Washington, Stonewall Jackson, and General Grant.

How much longer must we continue to teach history as an account principally of war and military heroes? Is it impossible to interest students of any age in heroes of peace as well as in heroes of war? Can it be that it is more important for a boy to know who has fought the battles of a nation than who has contributed to its peaceful development? What would be the loss to the average elementary and highschool student if the tale of war in history should be reduced to one-tenth of the importance which it now occupies in some places, and other interests should receive attention in its stead? If we could train up a generation of boys and girls who knew less about the wars of the world, but much more than they now do about the struggles of man to overcome disease, to subdue the earth through science, to increase the comfort and safety of life, to make education universal-if we could do this, would not our civilization be more stable than it now is? And would not individuals be more capable than most persons now are of adjusting themselves to a peaceful order in the world, and thinking clearly in respect to the problems which now confront us?

This leads on to the question of teaching pupils