and Greek, and amounts to very little in favor of science. A striking case in point is furnished by McCorkle College, the learned president of which we have already referred to. Let us analyze the course laid down in the catalogue. There are three terms per annum for four years, or twelve terms in all, and in the regular classical course the studies run as follows: Latin is taught during ten terms; Greek, through eight terms; mathematics, five; history, four; Hebrew, three; natural philosophy, two; chemistry, two; geology and astronomy, one each; other studies, mainly philosophical but none scientific, seven. The modern languages seem to be omitted altogether! Then, following the schedule from which this abstract was made, comes the announcement that "the scientific department will embrace all the above course except the classics." Could a more contemptible sham be invented? Would it be possible to do more in the way of belittling science? The total omission of scientific studies would be more honest and more truly in the spirit of science. And yet this institution is empowered to grant degrees, and has the same legal authority as Harvard, Yale, or Cornell. This is, to be sure, an extreme case, but it is not much worse than a host of others. As a general rule, the "scientific course" in a Western college is the classical course, plus a little mathematics, and with French and German substituted for Latin and Greek. Less preparation on the part of the student is required to enter it, and every applicant is given to understand that it does not rank quite equally with its older rival. In both courses the natural sciences are similarly arranged, so that the graduated bachelor of science knows really no more chemistry, physics, botany, zoölogy, geology, or astronomy, than the supposably less scientific bachelor of arts. In fact, the great majority of so-called "scientific courses" are mere makeshifts, intended to accommodate those students who are too dull, or too imperfectly prepared for taking the more thoroughly-equipped line of study in the classics. Here, again, American colleges oppose the development of the scientific spirit, and hinder seriously the growth of American science.
It would be possible to multiply indefinitely these illustrations of weakness on the part of our college system. Institution after institution might be cited in which not science only, but all culture, is at the lowest possible ebb. Just the bare facts concerning some Western and Southern colleges would, if published here, seem like incredible exaggerations or distortions of the truth. I have beside me college catalogues which are positively grotesque in their absurdities; no satire could do justice to them. One institution in particular, situated in Tennessee, has fairly reached the point at which the sublime and the ridiculous meet. In respect to science, even some of our oldest and best universities are open to criticism. Some apply theological tests in the election of professors, and in a mild way act toward modern science as some of the Spanish universities once acted
