Out from this interesting region come the majority of the white students of Berea. Few of them are able even to meet the yearly sum of seventy-five dollars, for which their education is given them. Many of them, even the girls, walk from their homes, and come in with nothing but a stout suit of clothes, a good head and a brave heart, paying their way as they go by such work as turns up, and the small wages of mountain school-keeping in the long summer vacations. They have no leisure to discuss the vexed topic of co-education that worries grave professors and doubting students at Yale and Harvard; indeed, the young fellow not unfrequently brings in his sister, cousin and prospective “annex” to sit down at the same table of knowledge. He is more anxious to lift his own end of a problem than to quarrel with the colored boy who is tugging at the other end. Indeed, at Berea one seems to be in that ideal university where an overpowering desire for study lifts the entire body of students above a whole class of questions that even yet convulse politicians and people, schoolmen and churches, South and North. They live together; the girls, of course, under careful supervision; study, work, recite, play and worship together; students and teachers, children and grown men and women, in one family. Probably no American school of three hundred and seventy students goes through the year with so little disturbance, is so easily governed, or so generally absorbed in the work in hand. This year the faculty consists of thirteen professors and teachers under President E. H. Fairchild, and three hundred and sixty-nine students, of whom nine are in the college classical and twenty-five in the literary course, forty-five in the normal, and the remainder in the preparatory department. The average age is sixteen. Two hundred and forty-nine are colored and one hundred and twenty are white; two hundred and six males and one hundred and sixty-three females.