ural truth with the facts of daily experience. Sensory perception, memory, and imagination were thus developed to form a mental setting for the great truths of the Kingdom. The same principle found its application in the institution of the sacraments whereby natural elements are made the outward signs of inward grace. As St. John Chrysostom aptly says, "Wert thou incorporeal, He would have bestowed on thee incorporeal gifts in their bare reality; but because the soul is bound up with the body, He gives thee intelligible things under sensible forms" (Homilia lx, ad populum Antioch.). In fact the whole teaching of Christ is the clearest proof of the principle that education must adapt itself in method and practice to the needs of those who are to be taught. In accordance with this principle He prepared the minds of His followers beforehand for the institution of the Holy Eucharist, for His own death, and for the coming of the Holy Ghost (John, vi, xiv, xv); and He even reserved certain truths to be made known by the Paraclete: "I have yet many things to say to you: but you cannot bear them now. But when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will teach you all truth" (xvi, 12, 13). Thus the completion of His work as a teacher is left not to human conjecture or speculation, nor to the theories of philosophical schools, but to the Spirit of God Himself. This of course was best realized by those who were nearest to Him; yet even those of the Jews who were not among the Apostles, but were, like Nicodemus, disposed to judge fairly, confessed His superiority: "We know that thou art come a teacher from God; for no man can do these signs which thou dost, unless God be with him" (John, iii, 2).

The Aim of Christian Education.--Had Christ's mission ended when He quitted the earth, He would still have been in word and work the ideal teacher, and would have influenced for all time the education of mankind so far as its ultimate aims and basic principles are concerned. But as a matter of fact, He made ample provision for the perpetuation of His work by training a select body of men who for three years were constantly under His direction and were thoroughly imbued with His spirit. To these Apostles, moreover, He gave the command: "Going therefore, teach ye all nations..... and behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world" (Matt., xxviii, 19, 20). These words are the charter of the Christian Church as a teaching institution. While they refer directly to the doctrine of salvation, and therefore to the imparting of religious truth, they nevertheless, or rather by the very nature of that truth and its consequences for life, carry with them the obligation of insisting on certain principles and maintaining certain characteristics which have a decisive bearing on all educational problems.

1. The truth of Christianity is to be made known to all men. It is not confined to any one race or nation or class, nor is it to be the exclusive possession of highly gifted minds. This characteristic of universality is in plain contrast with the highest conceptions of the pagan world. The cultured Greek had only contempt for the barbarian, and the Roman looked upon outside nations as subjects to be governed rather than as people to be taught. But at Athens also and at Rome there was the distinction between free citizens and slaves, in consequence of which the latter were excluded from the benefits of education. As against these narrow limitations Christ charged His Apostles to "teach all men"; and St. Paul, in the same spirit, professes himself a debtor to all men, Greeks and barbarians, the wise and the unwise alike. All, in fact, were to be dealt with as children of the same Heavenly Father and heirs of the Kingdom of God. In respect of these supernatural prerogatives, the distinctions which had hitherto prevailed were set aside: Christianity appeared as one vast school with mankind at large for its disciples.

2. The commission given to the Apostles was not to expire with them; it was to remain in force "all days, even to the consummation of the world". Perpetuity, therefore, is an essential feature in the educational work of Christianity. The institutions of paganism had indeed flourished and advanced from phase to phase of development, but they did not contain the element of enduring vitality. In the higher departments of learning, as in philosophy, school had followed school into vigour and into decay. And in education itself, one ideal after another had been put forward only to be displaced. Christianity, on the contrary, while it could never become a rigid system, held up to mankind certain unchangeable truths which should serve as criteria for determining the value of every fundamental theory of life and of education. By insisting, especially, that man's destiny was to be attained, not in any form of temporal service or success, but in union with God, it proposed an ideal which should be valid for all time and amid all the variations of human thought and endeavour. That such changes would inevitably come to pass, Christ, without doubt, foresaw. In view of these, a merely human teacher would have provided for the stability of his work by devices which would, if successful, have attested his foresight, or shrewdness, or knowledge of human nature. But Christ's guarantee to the Apostles is at once simpler and surer: "Behold I am with you all days". The task of instructing the world in Christian truth would have been impossible but for this permanent abiding of Christ with His appointed teachers. On the other hand, once the force of His promise is realized, the significance of Christianity as a perpetual institution becomes evident: it means that Christ Himself through a visible agency was to continue for all time the work He began during His earthly life as Teacher of the human race.

3. It has already been pointed out that some of the pagan peoples, and notably the Greeks, had attained a very high conception of personality; and it has also been shown that this conception was by no means perfect. The teaching of Christianity in this respect is so far superior to any other that if a single element could be designated as fundamental in Christian education it would be the emphasis which it lays on the worth of the individual. In the first place, Christianity had its origin, not in any abstract speculation as to goodness or virtue, but in the actual, concrete life of a Person who was absolutely perfect. It was not, then, obliged to cast about for the ideal man, or to present a theory as to what that ideal might possibly be: it could and it did point to a realization which far surpassed the most exalted ideas of human wisdom. In Christ first appeared the full dignity of human nature through its elevation to personal union with the Word of God; and in Him, as never before or since, were manifest those traits which furnish the noblest models for imitation.

Christianity, furthermore, elevated human personality by the value it set upon each human soul as created by God and destined for eternal life. The State is no longer the supreme arbiter, nor is service to the public weal the ultimate standard. These, it is true, within their legitimate sphere have just claims upon the individual. Christianity by no means teaches that such claims can be disregarded or the corresponding duties neglected, but rather that the discharge of all social and civic obligations will be more thorough when subordinated to, and inspired by, fidelity in the duties that man owes to God. While the value of personality is thus enhanced, the sense of responsibility is correspondingly increased; so that the freer development of the person is not allowed to culminate in selfishness nor in that extreme individualism which is a threat to social organization.

4. From these principles Christianity drew consequences which were totally at variance with the

thought and practice of paganism. The position of woman was lifted at once to a higher plane; she ceased to be a chattel, or a mere instrument of passion, and became the equal of man, with the same personal worth and the same eternal destiny. Marriage was no longer a union entered into through caprice or convention, but an indissoluble bond involving mutual rights and duties. Moreover, it was raised to the dignity of a sacrament, which not only sanctified the marital relation and its purposes, but also conferred the graces needful for the due fulfilment of its obligations. The whole meaning of the family was thus transformed. Parental authority was indeed maintained, but such an exercise of the patria potestas as the destruction or the exposure of children could not have been tolerated once it was realized that the child's personality also is sacred, and that parents are responsible not simply to the State, but also to God, for the proper education of their offspring. Christianity, moreover, laid upon the child the duty of respecting and obeying his parents, not out of servile fear or hard necessity, but through a spirit of reverence and filial love. The ties of home-life were thereby strengthened, and the whole work of education took on a new character because it was consecrated in its very source by religion.

5. In respect of its content Christianity opened up to the human mind wide realms of truth which unaided reason could not possibly have attained, and which nevertheless are of far deeper import for life than the most learned speculations of pagan thought. Upon those truths, also, which the philosophers had but vaguely discerned, or about which they had remained in doubt, it shed a new light. There could be no further questioning, for the Christian, as to the existence of a personal God, the reality of His providence, the immortality of the soul, the freedom of the will, and the resulting accountability of man to Divine Justice. Above all, the nature of the moral order was set forth in unmistakable terms. Christianity insisted that morality was not mere outward conformity to custom or law, but the inner rectitude of the will, that esthetic refinement was of far less consequence than purity of heart, and that love of the neighbour as proven in deeds, not personal gain or advantage, was the true norm of human relationships. That such a conception of life, with its emphasis on really spiritual aims, must lead to the formation of educational ideals unknown to the pagan world, is obvious. But on the other hand it would be wrong to infer that Christianity, in its "otherworldliness", reduces or neglects the values of the present life. What it consistently maintains is, that life here gets its highest value by serving as a preparation for the life to come. The question is not whether one should live now without any regard to the future or look forward to the future with no concern for the present; but rather how one should profit by the opportunities of this life in such wise as to secure the other. The problem, then, is one of establishing proportions, i. e. of determining values according to the standard of man's eternal destiny. When education is defined as "preparation for complete living" (Herbert Spencer), the Christian can take no objection to the words as they stand; but he will insist that no living can be "complete" which leaves out of consideration the ultimate purpose of life, and hence that no education really "prepares" which thwarts that purpose or sets it aside. It is just this completeness-in teaching all men, in harmonizing all truths, in elevating all relationships, and in leading the individual soul back to the Creator that forms the essential characteristic of Christianity as an educational influence.

THE EDUCATIONAL WORK OF THE CHURCH.-Next in importance to Christ's personal teaching was the establishment of a teaching body whose mission was identical with His own: "As the Father hath sent me, I

also send you" (John, xx, 21); and "He that heareth you, heareth me" (Luke, x, 16). He was not content with proclaiming once for all the truth of the Gospel, nor did He leave its wider dissemination to individual enthusiasm or initiative; He founded a Church to carry on His work. The spread of His doctrine was entrusted, not to books, nor to schools of philosophy, nor to the governments of the world, but to an organization that spoke in His name and with His authority. No other body of teachers ever undertook so vast a work, and no other ever accomplished so much for education in the highest sense. Apart from the preaching of the Apostles, the earliest form of Christian instruction was that given to the catechumens (q. v.) in preparation for baptism. Its object was twofold: to impart a knowledge of Christian truth, and to train the candidate in the practice of religion. It was conducted by the bishop and, as the number of catechumens increased, by priests, deacons, and other clerics. Until the third century this mode of instruction was an important adjunct to the Apostolate; but in the fifth and sixth centuries it was gradually replaced by private instruction of the converts, who were then less numerous, and by the training given in other schools to those who had been baptized in infancy. The catechumenal schools, however, gave expression to the spirit which was to animate all subsequent Christian education: they were open to every one who accepted the Faith, and they united religious instruction with moral discipline. The catechetical" schools, also under the bishop's supervision, prepared young clerics for the priesthood. The courses of study included philosophy and theology, and naturally took on an apologetic character in defense of Christian truth against the attacks of pagan learning. One of the oldest of these schools was at the Lateran in Rome; the most famous was that of Alexandria (see DocTRINE, CHRISTIAN).

In addition to this formal instruction, the Church from the beginning carried on through her worship an educational work embodying the deepest and soundest psychological principles. The ritual at first was of necessity simple; but as the Church was allowed a larger freedom, and her worship passed from the catacomb to the basilica, statelier forms were introduced; yet their essential purpose was the same. The Mass, which has always been the central liturgical function, appeals to the mind through the medium of sense. It combines light and colour and sound, the action of the priest, and the dramatic movement that fills the sanctuary, especially in the more solemn service. Beneath these outward forms lies the inner meaning. The altar itself, in every detail, is full of a symbolism that brings vividly to mind the life and personality of Christ, the work of redemption, and the enduring sacrifice of the Cross. In due proportion, each item of the liturgy conveys a lesson through eye and ear to the highest faculties of the soul. Sense, memory, imagination, and feeling are thus aroused, not simply as æsthetic activities, but as a support of intellect and will which thereupon issue in adoration and thanksgiving for the "mystery of faith". On the other hand, the liturgy has always included in its purpose the participation of the faithful, and hence it prescribes the response of the people to the prayers at the altar, the chanting of certain portions of the service, bodily postures and movements in keeping with the various phases of the sacred rite. The faithful are not merely bystanders or onlookers; they are not to maintain a passive, receptive attitude, but rather to give active expression to the religious thought and feeling aroused in them. This is especially evident in the sacramental system. While each of the sacraments is a sign to be perceived, it is also a source of grace to be received; and the reception involves in each case a series of actions which manifest the faith and disposition of the recipient. Moreover, each sacrament is

adapted to some particular need, and the whole system of sacraments, from baptism to extreme unction, builds up the spiritual life by processes of cleansing, strengthening, nourishing, and healing, which parallel the stages and requirements of organic growth. In a larger way, also, the liturgical year, as it commemorates the principal events in the life of Christ, brings into Christian worship a variety which affects to some extent both the details of the liturgy itself and the religious feelings which it inspires-from the joy of Christmas to the triumph of Easter and Pentecost. For the due observance of the greater festivals the Church provides, as in Advent and Lent, by seasons of preparation. The Old Law with its types foreshadowed the New; the Baptist announced the Messiah; Christ himself prepared His disciples beforehand for the mystery of the Eucharist, for His death, and for the coming of the Holy Ghost. The Church, following the same practice, arouses in the mind of the faithful those thoughts and feelings which form an apperceptive preparation for the central mysteries of faith and their proper observance at appointed times. Along with these greater solemnities come year by year the commemorations of the Christian heroes, the men and women who have walked in the footsteps of Christ, laboured for the spread of His kingdom, or even shed their blood for His sake. These are held up as models to be imitated, as realizations more or less perfect of the sublime ideal which is Christ Himself. And among the saints the foremost place is given to Mary the Mother of Christ, the ideal of Christian womanhood, to whom the Son of God was "subject" in the home at Nazareth. Each festival in her honour is at once an exhortation to copy her virtues and an evidence of the high station to which woman was raised by Christianity. The liturgy, then, is an application on a large scale of those principles which underlie all real teaching-appeal to the senses, association, apperception, expression, and imitation. The Church did not begin by theorizing about these, nor did she wait for a psychological analysis to determine their value. Instructed by her Founder, she simply incorporated in her liturgy those elements which were best fitted to teach men the truth and lead them to act in conformity with the Gospel. It is none the less significant that modern education is adopting for its own purposes, i. e. the teaching of secular subjects, the psychological principles which the Church from the beginning has put into practice.

While the Church, in her interior life and in the execution of her mission, gave proof of her vitality and of her ability to teach mankind, she necessarily came into contact with influences and practices which were the legacy of paganism. In point of religious belief there was, of course, a clean breach between the polytheism of Athens and Rome and the doctrines of Christianity. But philosophy and literature were factors which had to be counted with as well as the educational system, which was still largely under pagan control. Schools had been opened by converts who were imbued with the ideas of Greek philosophy-by Justin at Rome, and Aristides at Athens; while, at Alexandria, Clement and Origen enjoyed the highest repute. These men regarded philosophy as a means of guiding reason to faith, and of defending that faith against the attacks of paganism. Others again, like Tertullian, condemned philosophy outright as something with which the Christian could have nothing to do. In regard to the pagan classics the conflict of opinion was even sharper. Some of the greatest theologians and Fathers, like St. Basil, St. Gregory Nazianzen, and St. Gregory of Nyssa, had studied the classics under pagan masters and were therefore in favour of sending Christian youths to non-Christian schools on the ground that literary studies would enable them the better to defend their religion. At the same time these Fathers would not permit a Christian

to teach in such schools lest he should be obliged to take part in idolatrous practices. Tertullian (de Idololatriâ, c. x) insists on the same distinction: the teacher, he says, by reason of his authority, becomes in a way the "catechist of demons"; the pupil, imbued with Christian faith, profits by the letter of classical instruction, but rejects its false doctrine and holds aloof from the superstitious practices which the teacher can hardly avoid. Such a distinction was naturally the source of difficulties and gave rise to much discussion. The situation was not remedied by the edict of Julian the Apostate, forbidding the Christians to teach; though this called forth some protests and suggested the creation of a Christian literature based on classical models of style, nothing decisive resulted. On the other hand, fear of the corrupting influence of pagan literature had more and more alienated Christians from such studies; and it is not surprising to find among the opponents of the classics such men as St. John Chrysostom, St. Ambrose, St. Jerome, and St. Augustine. Though they had received a thorough classical education, and though they appreciated fully the worth of the pagan authors, their final attitude was adverse to the study of pagan literature. Apart from many controverted points in this subject, it is clear that the Fathers, at a time when the environment of the Church was still pagan, were far more anxious for the purity of faith and morals than for the cultivation of literature. In later ages, as the danger of contamination grew less, classical studies were revived and encouraged by the Church; but their value has more than once been questioned (see Lalanne, Influence des Pères de l'Eglise sur l'éducation publique, Paris, 1850).

Meanwhile the work of education was not neglected. If the Empire gave way before barbarian invasion, the Church found a new field of activity among the vigorous races of the North. To these she brought not only Christianity and civilization, but also the best elements of classical culture. Through her missionaries she became the teacher of Germany and France, of England and Ireland. The task was a difficult one, and its accomplishment was marked by many vicissitudes of temporary failure and hard-won success. At times, indeed, it would seem that the desire for learning had quite disappeared even among those for whom the acquisition of knowledge was a sacred obligation. Yet these drawbacks only served to stimulate the zeal of ecclesiastical and civil rulers in behalf of a more thorough and systematic education. Thus the salient feature of the Middle Ages is the co-operation of Church and State for the development of schools. Theodoric in Italy, Alfred in England, and Charlemagne in the Frankish Kingdom are illustrious examples of princes who joined their authority with that of bishops and councils to secure adequate instruction for clergy and people. Among churchmen it suffices to mention Chrodegang of Metz, Alcuin, St. Bede, Boethius, and Cassiodorus (see the several articles). As a result of their efforts, education was provided for the clergy in the cathedral schools under the direct supervision of the bishop and for the laity in parochial schools to which all had access. In the curriculum, religion held the first place; other subjects were few and elementary, comprising at best the trivium and quadrivium (see ARTS, THE SEVEN LIBERAL), But the significance of this education lies not so much in its content as in the fact that it was the means of arousing a love of learning among peoples that had just emerged from barbarism, and of laying the foundations of Western culture and science. The history of education records no greater undertaking; for the task was not one of improving or perfecting, but of creating, and had not the Church gone vigorously about her work, modern civilization would have been retarded for centuries. (See SCHOOLS; MIDDLE AGES.)

One of the chief factors in this progress was monas