l is grist that comes to his mill.

Robert Owen had but recently started "Queenswood College" in Hampshire,
and nothing would do but Tyndall should go there as a teacher of
science.

"Is he a skilled and educated teacher?" some one asked Owen. "Better
than that," replied Owen; "he is a regular firebrand of enthusiasm."

And so Tyndall resigned his position with the railroad and moved over to
England, taking up his home at "Harmony Hall."

Harmony Hall was a beautiful brick building with the letters C. M.
carved on the cornerstone in recognition of the Commencement of the
Millennium. The pupils were mostly workers in the Owen mills who had
shown some special aptitude for education. The pupils and teachers all
worked at manual labor a certain number of hours daily. There was a
delightful feeling of comradeship about the institution. Tyndall was
happy in his work.

He gave lectures on everything, and taught the things that no one else
could teach, and of course he got more out of the lessons than any of
the scholars.

But after a few months' experience with the ideal life, Tyndall had
commonsense enough to see that Harmony Hall, instead of being the
spontaneous expression of the people who shared its blessings, was
really a charity maintained by one Robert Owen. It was a beneficent
autocracy, a sample of one-man power, beautifully expressed.

Robert Owen planned it, built it, directed it and made good any
financial deficit. Instead of Socialism it was a kindly despotism. A few
of the scholars did their level best to help themselves and help the
place, but the rest didn't think and didn't care. They were passengers
who enjoyed the cushioned seats. A few, while partaking of the
privileges of the place, denounced it.

"You can not educate people who do not want to be educated," said
Tyndall. The value of an education lies in the struggle to get it. Do
too much for people, and they will do nothing for themselves.

Many of the students at Harmony Hall had been sent there by Owen,
because he, in the greatness of his heart and the blindness of his zeal,
thought they needed education. They may have needed it; but they did not
want it: ease was their aim.

The indifference and ingratitude Robert Owen met with did not discourage
him: it only gave him an occasional pause. He thought that the bad
example of English society was too close to his experiments: it vitiated
the atmosphere.

So he came over to America and found