cation by the provincial University Colleges, by the City and Guilds of London Institute, by the London Polytechnics, by the Science and Art Department, and by the classes organized by the County Councils under the Technical Instruction Act, it is indeed surprising that Mr. Mayo should attribute "the whole idea" of technical education in England to recent American competition. Most of these agencies were established many years ago and not one of them, I believe, owes its origin to American example.

From education the transition is easy to literature. Here, as in the consideration of the Americanization of commerce, it is necessary to guard against a confusion of thought. The sale of American books in England, while a gratifying sign for many reasons, is no evidence of the Americanizing of English literature. To prove this it would be necessary to point not to the purchases made by English book-buyers, but to the influence exerted by American literary models upon English writers. Such an influence, according to Mr. Mayo, is already seriously felt with respect to spelling. Now it is true that English publishers often issue books printed in American fashion, in cases where such books are set up in America according to the requirement of the American copyright law. But it is equally true that books by American authors are issued by American publishers with such spellings as "honour" and "vigour," and even with such ultra-orthodox spellings as "vigourous," which are practically unknown in England. A similar practice is regularly followed by at least one leading American magazine, which in its general tone is far removed from Anglomania. I doubt, however, whether it would be possible to find a single London publisher of repute who adopts the spelling "honor" in English books intended mainly for home consumption.

And American orthography is unlikely to make any considerable progress in England until it emerges from chaos into some sort of order. One of "the British peculiarities of spelling" is respect for a standard. The forms used by some American authorities are disavowed by others. James Russell Lowell once said that if he were Archbishop of Canterbury a man who could write "in the center of the street would be led out and burnt. In his treatise on "Correct Composition," published only a few months ago, Mr. Theodore L. De Vinne dismisses "peculiarities like 'ax,'' wagon,'' program,' theater,' and the rejection of one of the doubled consonants in words like traveled,'" as "mannerisms of some American dictionaries." When you take up an American publication you cannot tell whether you are going to find "meagre" or "meager,"

"mould" or "mold," "offence" or "offense," "traveller" or "traveler," "skilful" or “skillful,” “although" or "altho," "cannot " or can not.' In all such cases the practice of the British press is absolutely uniform.

In offering these criticisms of Mr. Mayo's article I do not wish to deny that America has had, and is having, an important influence on English affairs. But the same thing might be said of every other civilized nation under the sun. The progress of invention during the nineteenth century, by increasing the facilities of communication, has increased the opportunities of every country for becoming acquainted with the best thought and action of every other. We are seeing the fulfilment of the ancient prediction that "Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased." There is now such frequent intercourse between Europe and America, between Europe and its colonies, and between the various peoples of Europe itself that it is possible, as never before, for foreign experience to be utilized for the benefit of reform and progress at home. No one will doubt that in this interchange of ideas America is contributing her fair share, particularly by the stimulating example of the vigor and industry which she has thrown into the task of exploiting the resources of a vast territory. But the time has not yet come, though many of her sons seem to regard it as already arrived, when Columbia may assume the chair of Professor of Everything to the world at large. For what was once said of individuals is equally true of nations: "We are none of us infallible, not even the youngest of us."

HERBERT W. HORWILL.

WOMEN AT GERMAN UNIVERSITIES.

OF the Americans who cross the Atlantic in large numbers every year to study at German universities, the young women have generally less reason to be satisfied with their reception than the young men, for on arriving at their destination they find, as a rule, that access to a university is much more difficult for them in Germany than in their own country. They then learn, if they have not become aware of it before, that Germany has always shown great hesitation, to say the least, in admitting women to her universities. It is only natural that this fact should be interpreted as an evidence of the shortsightedness of the German educational authorities or the majority of German women. It is difficult, indeed, to find the right point of view for considering this question, especially as in the United States studies are pursued by women under very different conditions from those of other parts of the civilized world. Quite unconsciously everybody is liable to take the conditions with which he or she is familiar as a gauge of the merit or deficiency of the institutions of a foreign land. It must be remembered, however, that we can never rightly judge any phenomenon apart from its surroundings, or parts of an institution without being acquainted with the whole. We must, therefore, look at the German educational system as a whole in order to understand the position of women at the universities.

A German university, as it presents itself to-day, is an institution very different from the universities of this country. The American university stands on a broad, democratic basis. It is the crown of the complete edifice of public education erected story by story from the foundation of the primary school as a rule in evenly measured periods of four years— elementary school, grammar school, high school, college. The majority of the students then leave school, and only very few remain to undertake graduate work. The American university, therefore, combining almost everywhere the work of the graduate school with that of the undergraduate departments, is an institution carrying out a public mission. The object of one of the foremost of the American universities is, according to its charter, "to qualify students for personal success and direct usefulness

in life," and "to promote the public welfare by exercising an influence in behalf of humanity and civilization, teaching the blessings of liberty regulated by law, and inculcating love and reverence for the great principles of government as derived from the inalienable rights of man to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."

Now, institutions pursuing these aims would never be called universities in Germany. The object of the German university is much more limited. The German university includes nothing but graduate studies. From this point of view it is the offspring of the old "Gelehrtenschule" of the Middle Ages, whose only aim was the promotion of advanced studies in pure science, philosophical as well as natural. The difference may even be traced as far as to the definitions of the dictionary. A leading American cyclopædia defines the university as "an institution for the promotion of higher education by means of instruction, the encouragement of literary and scientific investigation, the collection of books and apparatus, and the bestowal of degrees." A German publication of the same character defines it as "wissenschaftliche Hochschule mit dem Recht, Grade zu erteilen." Thus, of the four characteristics given in the American definition the German dictionary has the second and fourth only, which include the third as the means for pursuing the first and the second.

In the German conception of the university stress is laid almost exclusively upon the word scientific, which in this connection always refers to pure science. The applied sciences are provided for in special institutions, such as the "Technische Hochschule," coördinate in rank with the university,' the "Handelshochschule," the "Bergakademie," the "Forstakademie," and others. A regular professional training is not given at the university except in what are called the learned professions -those of the clergyman, the lawyer, the physician, and the professor in the "higher" (secondary) schools. But even here, while a certain discipline is inevitable, the original spirit of the "wissenschaftliche Hochschule" is still to be felt; for, although for practical success nothing but the severe state examination is needed, a young man seldom leaves the university without taking his doctor's degree, because in This public opinion his studies would appear incomplete without it. degree, although coveted sometimes merely as a social distinction, means much more than this to the German mind. It bears witness, as Prof.

'It need scarcely be pointed out that the German word "Hochschule" is not the synonym of the American "High School," but in the widest sense designates the highest school of the country, standing as the German substitute for the Latin "Universitas."

Münsterberg rightly said not long ago, to the fact that its owner has at least once in his life felt the touch of pure scholarship, even if he is not a great scholar. This is the reason why the doctor's degree stands in such high esteem in Germany, where, on the whole, the scientific standing of a man is of more importance to him than in America. Even the occasional abuses of this honor cannot depreciate it in general esteem. It is well known what a keen discussion was aroused some time ago when the present Emperor proposed, in view of the modern development of applied sciences, that the "Technische Hochschule" should also confer this degree. It was believed that such an innovation would involve the loss by the doctorate of the character of pure learned scholarship which it had hitherto denoted.

This extreme accentuation of the scientific tendencies of the German university has also excluded from it, in the course of time, all that concerns undergraduate work. Undergraduate studies are pursued in the "Gymnasium," a secondary school with a nine years' course, which may be defined as a combination of the American high school and the undergraduate work of the American college, excepting, of course, Harvard and its equals. The original form of this school is the humanistic gymnasium formerly the only institution that opened to its graduates the doors of the university with a curriculum of nine years of Latin, mathematics, German, history, and religion, six years of Greek, eight of French, three of English (or Hebrew, for future students of theology), and about six years each of natural sciences and geography, besides singing, gymnastics, etc. The philological and historical tendencies of this school are shown still more clearly by the number of lessons devoted to the classical languages. The total varies from eight to ten a week. the courses are not elective, this system has necessitated the foundation of a parallel school for those who do not need so much of the humanities. This is the "Realgymnasium," which omits Greek and lays greater stress upon the sciences instead. The last concession to modern knowledge is represented by the "Oberrealschule," which is without either Latin or Greek, and devotes its time mostly to science and modern languages. Its alumni, however, are not admitted to all the departments of the university, but only to the study of the natural sciences or mathematics.

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The final examination of all these institutions, which is very severe, is called "Maturitäts-Examen;" and as far as the amount of knowledge is concerned, it may be compared, mutatis mutandis, to the B.A. of the average American college. Thus, the German system makes the division between secondary and university instruction at the end, the American at