considered the most valuable part of the work was the free admission he got to picture shows. The danger apparently is that even field work may become mere routine. There must be something placed in it, some responsibility attached to the work, so that a failure to do it well, will be of as much a loss as the failure of an actual worker who is making his living would be.

Another problem is in the coordination of the two kinds of work. The mere fact that theoretical instruction is accompanied by field work is no assurance of their actual interaction. And unless they can be intertwined the field work is likely to become useless. It seems to me that a partial solution would be afforded if the student in some way could be made dependent for his expenses on his field work. A real remuneration should be attached to it, as there is in cooperative engineering work. This, I believe, would be an incentive, and a solvent for getting the two elements into genuine chemical interaction. Of course, this is manifestly impossible in all cases, but it is a principle that should be made more use of. It seems to me that what is chiefly needed in making field work a real correlative of class work is a more genuine nature of work. Students in their field work should create a product, be it survey, report, map, or what not that will be of actual money value to the community. And this money remuneration should be forthcoming under all reasonable circumstances. In the second place, the amount of time apportioned to field work should be based upon the magnitude of the task to be done. A scant three hours one afternoon a week will not suffice to complete any surveys or to learn to audit public accounts, and unless something is actually accomplished so that the field workers may have the pride of accomplishment and of creation, the field work will be flat and unprofitable. These things, the vitalizing of knowledge, as well as the training for taking up the practical work of the line he is to enter when he leaves school so that no time will be lost in assimilating him, and so that he may enter the work, a trained expert to a certain extent, are the rewards hoped for from field work in the narrow sense.

I have found out these facts from actual personal experience. Many of my ideas of field work have come thru introspection in my own case. In a way, all my college work has been accompanied by field work of the most practical as well as the most intense kind. Two years before I entered college I began newspaper work, I had a varied experience during that time, and entered college with the determination that, as I expected to continue that work, I would adapt my study to the particular needs I saw in the work. There is no doubt whatever in my mind that the greatest incentive I had to study was the fact that my previous work had given me a realization that the things I was studying were the things I would need when I began actual work again. I saw other men who were college trained doing things better than I, and I made a practise of studying them, so that I had a sort of ideal of what I wanted to acquire in college. This came purely from field work, I knew what I wanted to do and I knew what I had to set for myself in order to do it. Another instance to me of the value of field work, and of the effect of field work on classroom work, was in the selection of my studies. Intending to follow the newspaper game, which embraces practically all human activity, I naturally had a curiosity to dabble in a little of everything. For my work, I knew it was necessary to have a little knowledge of all subjects, but particularly was it important to be well grounded in modern languages, literature, political science, dramatic criticism, political economy, rhetoric and sociology and kindred subjects. And it was in these subjects that I concentrated my interest during the first two years. Now, if I had not been actually engaged in newspaper work, which was field work for me, all the while I was going to school, and if I had not seen the problems of the newspaper game, while I was actually in school, I never would have adapted my work to any particular end. I simply would have taken a set course and probably would not have had any interest in studying anything outside of the textbook on the subject. In a word, I would have just gone aimlessly thru school. As it was, the problems I saw during the afternoons in my work gave me

food for reflection and ideas of what I wanted to concentrate upon when I went to school. And the fact that these theories that I was studying in college were going to help me in my work, and I was convinced they were, lent an interest to them, for they were actually correlated to the work I was already doing. And this was no mere play, but work, that was making money for me. In this I do not mean to emphasize the value of money making, as a thing in itself, in field work, but only in so far as it lends reality and actuality to the work.

Further, as a result of working in my chosen line of business at the same time I was studying, I was enabled to avoid, I believe, one of the grievous errors of college work-a too slavish devotion to making grades. A passing grade satisfied me, if I was sure that I had got out of the subject what I was seeking; I did not care for the artificial value set on my work. The results of my field work also showed in English or rhetoric, which I might term the technic of my profession. Knowing that the chief value of rhetoric is to enable one to write, I did not get enmeshed in the tangle of rules, as I know some students in my class in rhetoric did. I never got high grades for technical excellence, but I did improve in my use of the English language. And my constant practise in my field work gave me an advantage over fellow students who probably never did an hour of composition in a month outside of their English work. But the main thing I found I was getting out of working and studying at the same time lay in the fact that study became a vital thing to me. I looked on getting an education as an essential form of work, just the same as an architect might view the laying of the foundation of a building as a work as important as putting on the roof. It was not a period of severe probation with me before I entered the duties of real work, which might just as well have been undertaken sooner, and it gave me an opportunity to see that these theories that are learned in textbooks, which students now are inclined to hold in contempt, are vital. It gave me a chance to correct faults in my work while I was still primarily a student.

This bit of personal narrative, I have ventured to go into, simply to illustrate, from the first hand, the facts about field work as I found them, and to show from my own experience, how the same results might be secured by students in any other line, accounting, public service or city planning, for instance.

The one objection which I had to field work in my own case was the distraction from scholarship in the academic sense. I had many a subject stored up that I wanted to read about and study, but never got time for. The effort to secure a practical accompaniment of theories by work in industries, professions, and city government draws one away from the sort of intensive, exhaustive study that is undertaken to get a doctor's degree. Students who cooperate are likely to apply what they know, but they do not go into a subject deeply; they may know nothing thoroly. Field work takes away the tendency to scholarly solitariness in which real scholarship germinates. When periods of study, however intense, are alternated with the distraction of practical affairs, depth of learning is naturally sacrificed somewhat. By field work we are not likely to develop any great scholars or philosophers, but we will develop efficient average men. As far as the other fault is concerned, I do not know whether under the conditions in which we live, it is a fault or a virtue, but at least, it is the thing which field work is aimed to correct-namely mere intellectual development. In our civilization we must act as well as dream and think. Studies are only interesting in the ultimate analysis in so far as they have a bearing on life itself. By proper methods we can unfold this intellectual curiosity thru which no learning will be without interest. I can not in this connection forget the advice of the manager to the poet in the prelude to Goethe's "Faust":

Grasp the exhaustless life that all men live;

Each shares therein tho few may comprehend.

Where'er you touch there's interest without end.

Field work, or practical training, is, I believe, the contribution of this century to the philosophy of education, and as

a principle of education it will never be abandoned. The only surprizing thing is that it has been neglected so long. For several centuries it has been the method of professions such as law and medicine. It has been the sine qua non of a medical education since Vesalius taught physicians to study anatomy in the human body and not in the pages of Hippocrates. Furthermore, aside from the advantages of making efficient workers and more skilful college graduates, it is likely to subserve the logic of events of the twentieth century in the emphasis it places on the social value of work. We hope that this century is to see the triumph of democracy and at least the beginnings of internationalism. We hope to see the working out of a great socializing process. Now this must have its foundation in the schools, and just as Dewey taught, the matter of industrial training and also field work is chiefly valuable for the great part it plays in making the child or the student realize that his personal development is a social as well as an individual phenomenon. Social consciousness will never develop, I believe, thru theoretical study. It is more likely to develop thru an early beginning of the rising generation to think of itself as a part of the last world process that is going on. When this state of mind can be developed the triumph of democracy and of internationalism will be assured. Hoping that these will be the two contributions of this century to the world, I believe this principle of education thru its effects on the generation now developing will be a factor towards its attainment.

As I attempted to point out in the beginning, we will reach the best practical educational method if we combine the characteristics of the performance ideal and the character ideal. Doubtless the optima for different temperaments, ages, and studies will be found at various points along the lines connecting the two extremes. How far we may go in either direction is to be determined by the pragmatic test of experiment. At present the tide is running in the direction that Dewey and James pointed out.

It is, therefore, ours to watch the experiment. If we can see that thru practical training, thru adding field work to