might take for a project making a garden, building a boat, or preparing for college. Several pupils may work upon a group-project; or they may have more than one at a time. Through the pupil's interest in such projects, related subject-matter will be introduced. The choice of an adventure is of prime importance only as it furnishes for a longer or shorter time the best instrumentality for the child's development.

Drill and routine cannot be eliminated and leave training normal or complete. But generally they can be given value in the pupil's estimation. Pupils learn most effectively and with the minimum loss of time if taught through, rather than in opposition to, their interests. Boys and girls do not always rebel against drudgery, indeed, what could exceed in routine and drudgery pulling a sled up hill, over and over again, for half a day? but they do object when it has no obvious connection with that which they value. If we find a final residuum of drill which cannot be made incidental to a project, such as drill in the rudiments of arithmetic or in spelling, we still can take away the deadliness of the drudgery if we will use the resources of human nature.

Recently the colored man who mows my lawn changed his basis from time-work to piece-work. When I came to pay him at his old rate for work done in a surprisingly short time, he protested. "Boss, I thought I was working by the job, and you know nobody works by the hour like he does by the job." Few of us can work with keen zest at a task of endless repetition, where the degree of excellence of the work done has no bearing on the compensation. Only a fool would enjoy spending his life in sweeping back the tide. Sane men and sane boys demand results commensurate with the investment. We give a boy his spelling lesson, an hour a day, month after month and year after year. He knows that no excellence of

service will relieve that drudgery, and he has not the experience or capacity necessary for a vital appreciation of final profit in the far-off years. Suppose that, in case we must teach spelling by the book, we give him a list of a hundred or two hundred words which he must master during the month, and tell him that, when they are learned, his spelling period during the remainder of the month will be free for his own pleasures, or for work he likes. So can even the residuum of drudgery be made lighter, and the keenness of life maintained.

In the school of the future the mastery of the arts or occupations of life will be the end and aim of education. The method of education will be the practice of those arts. Subject-matter and technic will furnish the tools needed in acquiring and exercising this mastery. Projects will furnish the occasion to awaken and maintain the interest and the incentive for effort in acquiring subject-matter and technic, and in practising the occupations of life. By recognizing the inherent spontaneity of the interests and aspirations of childhood, the greatest of educational assets will be commanded.

The school of the future will be protean. It will overflow into all parts of the community, utilizing farm, home, factory, store, and office. There will be time for team work, for group play, for class work, but much of the time will be spent singly or in groups, with the teachers' guidance, in working out the project, with its ramifications into literature, mathematics, science, history, physical labor, and business dealings.

Ten years later

THERE is one respect in which I would qualify the statement of general methods outlined in this article. For the purpose of economizing time and expense in teaching, I would not endeavor to make the "project" the one impor

tant medium for teaching. Often there is a waste of time and effort in trying to find occasion through projects for transmitting subject-matter. Frequently we do well to say to boys and girls, in effect: "The experience of men indicates that this subject-matter that we present has great value. If you will accept our judgment on that point, the years will bear us out."

When we take this position, we commonly lose a great asset of intelligent interest, but we may gain in time and expense. Where to draw the line is a practical matter, to be determined by experience. The curiosity to know for knowing's sake is deeply implanted in men, and furnishes a great resource for stimulating study not related to immediate practical use. In a liberal sense of the term, "projects" include activities inspired by such interests.

EDUCATION: THE MASTERY OF THE ARTS OF LIFE

As a successful civil engineer, who has turned his attention to education, Arthur E. Morgan has achieved conspicuous eminence. Among reclamation projects in the field of engineering, Mr. Morgan's work at Dayton to prevent the recurrence of floods is notable. While a resident of Dayton, he became one of the founders of the Moraine Park School, the principles of which are discussed in Mr. Knappen's article in this volume. At present he is the president of Antioch College at Yellow Springs, Ohio, an institution which is unique in its departure from the traditional four-year curriculum.

Points of View

1. MILTON, in his Tractate on Education, says that a liberal education should prepare a man "to perform justly, wisely, and magnanimously all the offices, both public and private, of peace and war." Does Mr. Morgan mean to set up such universal proficiency as a practical ideal of education?

2. "We should try to inspire the habit of searching out what is the burden of the world's wisdom and judgment in reference to

the main issues of life." Compare this statement with Mr. Yeomans's statements about "relationships” and “discriminations." With Dr. Snedden's views on the consumption of social utilities.

3. Has Mr. Morgan's ideal been realized by schools organized under the Dalton plan? By schools that utilize the project method? Is individual instruction enough, or must the programme of studies be changed?

4. Can schools alone educate children to a "mastery of the arts of life?" How can we utilize museums, playgrounds, camps, scouting, libraries, churches, and homes? Has the decline of the home arts altered the problem of education?

EDUCATION FOR LEISURE

ARTHUR POUND

I

A YEAR ago I sat in a meeting of schoolmen and leading citizens, who were wrestling with plans for a new high school and technical college. The leading citizens were manufacturers of motor-cars, because our town's reason for existence is the production of such cars, of which we can be relied upon to deliver upwards of one hundred thousand a year, when the public buys them fast enough to clear the loading docks. Our leading citizens, consequently, are leaders in their industry as well. For downright public spirit, no more satisfactory group of employers can be found anywhere. They took it for granted that our new high school and technical college was to be keyed to utility. They wanted practical education, or, as one phrased it, "education for life." As their programme unfolded, it seemed that their goal was, rather, education for production.

They may have seen new light since the wheels slowed down, but neither then nor later did the schoolmen offer any protest.

As an outsider, a member of neither group, I sat there dazed, silent, a little dashed and fearful, as one amid new ruins. I knew there was something wrong with the programme of these manufacturers; but what it was, I could not say. Now I know, for I have been studying the reactions of automatic machinery upon social relationships.