otherwise qualified, secure pensions for its professors, and in any event its derelictions will be advertised broadcast in the reports of the Foundation with a precision and a conviction beyond all hope of rebuttal. Let cynics smile at a process which they may describe as bribing the colleges to be good by pensioning their superannuates, but unquestionably the work of the Foundation has resulted in a new uprightness, a new firmness of standards, a higher efficiency that bodes well for the future of American education. Parents may give material encouragement to this movement by reading the publications of the Carnegie Foundation, as well as college catalogues and advertisements, before they determine upon an institution for the education of their children. Although the conditions just described are the principal evil results of the competitive struggle for college and university expansion, the accusations of corruption against institutions of learning have usually dealt with their teaching of the doctrines of economics, sociology, and political science. Endowments must be secured; as a rule they can be had only from the very rich; among the very rich are numbered most of the “malefactors of great wealth”;—_ergo_ university and college teaching on such subjects must be made pleasing or at least void of all offence to plutocratic interests. There is a certain disproportion between the means and the ends considered by the foregoing argument which is worth notice. To found or endow a college or university requires a great deal of money. Any institution worthy of either name is made up of numerous departments,—languages, literature, the natural sciences, history, and the social sciences,—of which only the last named are concerned with the moot questions of the day. If one cherished the Machiavellian notion of corrupting academic opinion to his economic interest he would be obliged, therefore, to support an excessively large number of departments the work of which would be absolutely indifferent to him. Endowment of the social sciences alone would be rather too patent. That they are not over-endowed at the present time in comparison with their importance relative to other departments is a condition the large mournfulness of which seems beyond all possibility of doubt to the writer. Nor should it be forgotten that the teachers of the social sciences form but a small minority of the whole body of university and collegiate instructors in all subjects. Nevertheless they are subject to the rigid general standards of accuracy, fairness, and impartiality prescribed by the profession as a whole, and enforced severely whether the offender be a biologist, a philologist, or an economist. Criticism is far more relentless and constant in this sphere than laymen are wont to suspect, except on the rare occasions when some more than ordinarily virulent controversy is taken up by the daily papers. Under