rward in the dark; and only so much light ought to be let in upon the
process as seems desirable in each individual case. In that way, at
least, the pupil would learn to think for himself; and even if little
more were accomplished than this, it would be of ten thousand times
greater value to the individual, and to the community at large, than the
acquisition of a large stock of facts at the price of losing all power
of reflection and initiative.

Let me give an illustration of what I will call the opposing methods of
education.

We will suppose, for the sake of argument, that the only available book
for the instruction of a class of boys was that excellent but abstruse
work known as 'Bradshaw's Railway Guide.' The modern schoolmaster would
draw up an exhaustive and complicated scheme. So much time would be
devoted to parsing every sentence through the book. The figures would be
added up, and subtracted, and divided. He would concoct neat little
mathematical problems: If the 11.40 express from Paddington travelled to
Swindon at fifty miles an hour and broke down half-way, at what o'clock
would the 12.15 parliamentary train overtake it? and so forth. But--most
valuable exercise of all--long tables of trains would be learnt off by
heart, with the names of stopping places and the prices of the
first-class tickets.

A genuine educationist would set to work in a much simpler fashion. He
would tell the boys to look out a good train from Birmingham to
Newcastle. Each boy would be free to tackle the problem in his own
fashion, and the task--if successfully accomplished--would do much
towards developing the thinking faculties.

In any system of real education it would be impossible for the
schoolmaster to dictate the subjects to which the pupil should give his
attention, and it would be equally impossible for the parent to say 'I
intend my son to enter such-and-such a profession.' Nobody can settle
beforehand what talents the child is to develop. That is a private
matter in which no third person has any right to interfere between the
child itself and Nature.

Modern education consists entirely of interference. There is, in the
first place, the interference of the parent, who insists upon an
artistic boy becoming a banker, puts an incipient tradesman into the
army, or tries to make a scholar out of a mechanic. Then there comes the
interference of the schoolmaster, who has his favourite recipe of Latin
verses, quadratic equat