of application to work, the bearing of Christian gentlemen, a distinct sense of personal honor. The test of standing is not family or money, but personal worth and successful study. The day's exercises are invariably opened with devotional exercises, conducted by one of the professors. Societies for the cultivation of religious life and usefulness are encouraged. The city affords many advantages for personal culture and social pleasures, which are cordially embraced by the students.

THE AIM AND THE OUTLOOK.

One high aim has ever been kept in view by the college management: Not to gain numbers by the sacrifice of scholarship, but to lay deep and broad the foundations of solid learning, and to make the diploma a veritable evidence of accurate and generous scholarship. So thorough has been the training that not a single graduate has failed of success in the various competitive examinations before military or naval boards and civil-service examiners, or before the universities to which they have gone for advanced work.

These high purposes of trustees, professors, and students are interwoven with all the history of the institution, and will be scrupulously maintained.

With an unsurpassed location, a beautiful, unencumbered property, a full and vigorous faculty, a growing endowment, an interested constituency, and fair patronage, with a generous course of study and high standard of graduation, and with a long line of useful and honored sons interested in her welfare, the future of Richmond College would seem full of promise.

WEST VIRGINIA.

EDUCATION IN WEST VIRGINIA.

By Rev. A. D. MAYO, M. A., LL. D.

[From advance sheets of the biennial report of the State superintendent of free schools of West Virginia for the year 1893-94.}

It had been my intention for more than one season during a ministry of education of fourteen years in the Southern States, in which I had visited every State ever called by that name, to give a period of several months to an educational tour through West Virginia. For various reasons, with the exception of one midsummer attendance on the State convention of teachers, this had not been accomplished. A partial arrangement to spend a portion of the winter and spring of 1883 in the State failed. It was only on April 1, 1894, that I was able to accept the urgent invitation of the State superintendent of free schools, Hon. Virgil A. Lewis, and, at Charleston, the capital city, began an educational visitation of two months which will be remembered as one of the most interesting of all similar experiences since the commencement of my educational work in the South, in the early months of 1880.

This tour was necessarily brief, being closed by the ending of the public school year in early June in many of the places to which I was invited. I soon learned that the educational people of the Mountain State were in the condition of mind represented by a jolly editor in Spartanburg, S. C., who accompanied an invitation to visit the people of that enterprising little city with the postscript: "You'll find there's nothing mean about us. You can lecture every hour in the day, if you want to, and we will give you the biggest hall in town and all come to hear what you have to say."Taking account of stock," on reaching Washington June 1, I ascertained that, during this visitation of two months, including a dozen of the leading educational centers of the State, three of the six State normal schools, the State University, and Bethany College, with an unusual opportunity of meeting many of the most conspicuous educational and public men, clergymen, professional men, and friends of education, I had delivered à larger number of popular lectures, always to generous audiences, than the number of days in my tour; carefully inspected the schools of all the cities and districts visited; been given the most ample opportunity for a front, rear, and side view of all things going on in educational affairs; and, as

far as the most confidential expression of opinion was concerned, placed in possession of an amount of information requiring a longer time to digest and put in shape for quiet consideration than was spent in its acquiring.

And a longer time than this-I trust as long as I remain in the flesh-will be required to disentangle myself from the mood of enthusiastic appreciation of all I saw and heard and felt during those memorable weeks; the magnetism of great crowds of school children, each a blossoming flower-garden a little lovelier than the last; the crowded and eager public audiences that every where welcomed my free and easy talks on universal education; the congregations that filled the largest churches on Sunday afternoons and evenings, in the most populous towns, where I was impressed into the service of preaching the gospel according to education; the pleasant greeting of teachers in the city, village, and rural schools to listen to addresses on the fundamental American profession; the earnest listening at the normal schools and the hearty welcome at the State University; with everywhere the offer of the most friendly hospitality; all woven into a "long sweet song" by the children, every where singing: "Oh, the West Virginia Hills."

But all this, instead of being an obstacle to an honest and impartial judgment of educational affairs in the State, was itself but an indication of a remarkable educational interest among the people, who seemed to me prepared to "shake hands" with anybody who appeared, properly certified, inviting them "to come and reason together" on the theme that lies at the foundations of our American civilization. I therefore accept with pleasure the suggestion of State Superintendent Lewis not only to resume my visit to West Virginia during the coming autumn and winter, but also to furnish an informal report of my observations during my first journeying through the State. Of course I understand the meaning of the distinguished metropolitan editor, lately returned from a three months' tour in Europe, who said to his interviewer: "A railroad journey of three months through central Europe and Russia hardly qualifies a man to talk at large on public affairs in Europe." Still, after an experience of fourteen years journeying through all the Southern States, in the especial interest of common school education, everywhere afforded the most ample facilities for looking upon both the educational fatness and leanness of the land; reenforced by a long and diligent study of the industrial, religious, social, and public conditions of this section of the country at all periods of its development; with attention specially devoted to the effect of environment upon the educational department of these sixteen States; I feel that even the hasty investigation possible during these crowded weeks has left a deposit of fact and awakened a depth of feeling which may be a qualification to accept the suggestion of the State superintendent of free schools.

Certainly there could be no justice or propriety in making this essay a criticism or commendation of school teachers and schools in the different communities visited. All that was of use in this direction was fairly given to the proper authorities at the time. But there is nothing to forbid an impartial record of the observations of a stranger who has studied with the deepest interest the entire history of this State, and been awakened to a thorough appreciation of all he has heard and seen of its past and present condition. An intimate acquaintance with every one of the oldtime slave-holding States may also add to the value of my estimate of the work done in West Virginia since 1863 in behalf of universal education; the trend of the currents of educational activity; what has been well begun; what has already been accomplished; on what lines there seems to be the greatest present necessity for vigorous action; and what should be the grand aim of the educators of the Commonwealth in laying deep and broad the foundations for a future that only the most inexcusable folly and obstinacy can hiuder from its great fruition.

I am more encouraged to accept the invitation from the fact, not yet explained to myself, that, of all the more important States of the old South, West Virginia has, educationally, been the last to be introduced to the public attention of the great line of Commonwealths that stretch from the Mississippi Valley to the Atlantic Coast. The explosion of patriotic congratulation, thirty years ago, when these 54 northwestern counties of the Old Dominion broke loose from their mother State and boldly committed their destiny, as a new Commonwealth, to the salvation of the Union; with the few months of short, sharp, and decisive" warfare which threw their territory into possession of the Union armies until the close of the war; was soon overwhelmed by the absorbing interest of the great campaign on the Potomac and James and the Mississippi. At the close of the great conflict West Virginia was already a fully organized State of the Union, and stepped to her place, as the child of the great conflict, with a vigor and confidence that left the impression that no special sympathy or aid was required from any quarter. The insignificance in numbers of her colored population was a reason for the lack of interest in the great body of Christian and philanthropic organinations of the North which, after experimenting for thirty years, are now learning that the most effective way to lift up the seven millions of American negroes is to aid in the education of the ten millions of

white folk who form the next social strata above. The estrangement of the people of the ex-Confederate States prevented any considerable immigration from that quarter to this new Commonwealth, although a million young men have left the Old South for the Northwest and the Southwest since 1865. The sparse population, in 1865 scarcely reaching a third of a million; the poverty of the great majority of the people; the lack of home capital and of reliable information concerning the resources of the new State; all these may in a measure account for the fact that no Commonwealth of anything like the importance of West Virginia is to-day so in need of the higher species of advertisement for a genuine understanding by the whole American people. Therefore, it is not so much for any supposed advantage to the educators and people of West Virginia that I write out this hasty sketch of my observations. Rather do I look to the great outward public, which needs information concerning the wonder and prophecy bound up in these 24,715 square miles of mountain, valley, mine, and forest. And especially is the educational experience of West Virginia so peculiar that it may be said to have woven the vital cord between the education of the old and the new South; her entire educational life as the "mountain pasture" of the Old Dominion being in itself an education especially fitting her people for their remarkable coming to the front in 1863 as the first Southern State that of itself organized universal education according to the plan of the American common school. It is not difficult to understand the source of the characteristic State pride of the superior class of the Old Dominion, when the vast extent of its great territory from the beginning of the seventeenth to the eighteenth century is taken into account. Apart from the wonderful development of public ability at the outbreak of the Revolution, and the powerful influence of the leading class of Virginia up to the beginning of the civil war, there is a fair cause for pride in the feeling that Virginia has never been more notably the Mother of Presidents than the Mother of States. As late as 1775 the province of Virginia included the Territory of Kentucky, the five original Northwestern States, and the present Virginia and West Virginia. In 1860 Virginia was still one of the larger States of the Union, containing 67,000 square miles. But with its magnificent seaport, its splendid system of rivers, its broad realm of fertile fields, its prodigious treasures of minerals, timber, and waterpower, and the excellent strain of its original Anglo-Saxon population, it remained the wonder of the nation that it had so little improved its great opportunity for material wealth and industrial power. Up to a period considerably later than the Revolution, the great drama of life in old Virginia had been wrought out in a region little larger than the State of Massachusetts, the narrow margin between the Atlantic Coast and the Alleghany Mountains; even the Shenandoah Valley and the wonderful reaches of Southwest Virginia have had but small influence in public affairs. The original people that came to this "God's Country," beyond the Blue Ridge, made haste to get away from it and poured through the mountain passes into Kentucky and the new Northwest, leaving their own superb land behind and quite neglecting the area of nearly 25,000 square miles at the north, now known as the State of West Virginia. Later the movement down the Ohio River generally gave this territory the cold shoulder, and pushed on to the Ohio and the more distant Territories, leaving behind a straggling population along the 50 miles of charming valley where are now situated the larger cities of the Commonwealth. The new Erie Canal and the opening of steam navigation on the Great Lakes still further diverted the stream of eastern emigration from this country, and there was little to attract the thronging multitudes of Europe to its wilderness of opportunity. Hence, at the breaking out of the war in 1861, this region remained still away in the rear of the proud Old Dominion, scarcely attracting attention by its secession from the Mother State. In 1860 the population of this area, three times the extent of the State of Massachusetts, was not larger than that of Boston to-day-less than 270,000; no town having the requisite population to entitle it to a city organization in Massachusetts.

In addition to this, we must take into consideration the singular neglect that had befallen this portion of the State from old Virginia. It was not so much any special hostility to the development of this portion of the State as the inevitable result of its social and industrial organization that left the people of this far-off country in a growing state of estrangement from their neglectful mother. As the writer of The Mountain State says, "The early days of West Virginia were not conducive to the rapid advancement of the State. In the old State that part west of the mountains had always been looked down upon as a wilderness, and little attention was ever given to it. The people complained, for years, that they were permitted by the State to do nothing but pay their taxes. Their representation in the councils of the State was small and, by the Old Dominion, that portion of her domain west of the mountains was practically ignored." The superior class of Virginia, until 1860, devoted its energics far more to the problem of the leadership of the entire South, in all essential ways then drifting toward a decisive conflict with the Union, every year more threatening, than to developing its own splendid domain and educating its

own people to the ability to comprehend and improve such an opportunity as never before in history was offered to a population so small.

But all this has passed away in the advent of a new generation. From the interesting data furnished and indorsed by public authority, we learn that the publication of the great natural resources of West Virginia practically dates from the year of the Centennial Exposition, in Philadelphia, in 1876. During the past twenty years the people of the United States have first come to the knowledge of the importance of this new Commonwealth, the child of the great war for the preservation of the Union. From the numerous public documents-which read more like a romance of industry than a mass of substantial information-we learn that while in 1863 there was but one railroad in West Virginia, there are now but 11 of its 54 counties destitute of this manner of communication, and that during the year 1892 this State led the Union in the extent of railroad construction. Three great lines now connect this State with the Atlantic Coast and the Mississippi Valley, and numerous arteries of these great systems and supplementary routes have opened portions of the Commonwealth hitherto little known. From a meager production of coal for domestic use in 1863, the output of the mines in 1892 was 10,000,000 tons, from 200 mines, employing 15,000 workmen, representing a population one-sixth as large as the entire inhabitants of West Virginia in 1860. Ten million acres of West Virginia soil are underlaid by a coal deposit 10 feet thick, a larger area than the coal district of Great Britain, with an estimated output of 10,000,000,000 tons. It is estimated that the coal of West Virginia exceeds the value of the gold and silver mines of the Pacific States. Only 3 of the 54 counties are destitute of the coal supply. It is asserted that the present population of the United States could be supplied with its usual consumption of coal for 1,000 years, from West Virginia alone.

One-half the State is still in the woods," the virgin forests furnishing a larger amount of hard-wood timber than any other State, and the growing timber industry giving occupation to another army of 15,000 men. The great lumber belt is 200 by 25 miles in extent, 7,000 square miles-nearly as extensive as the State of New Jersey. The timber crop at present is valued at $70,000,000; 500,000,000 feet being put on the market each year. An ex-governor of West Virginia declares that this State "has more of a surplus of hard wood than any other ten States of the Union." The altitude of the Staie, from 500 to 5,000 feet above tide water, and the climate are favorable to a vast and vigorous growth of forest life, 32 reliable varieties of hard and soft wood lumber being furnished for the markets of the world.

The world's production of iron in 1890 amounted to 26,500,000 gross tons, of which the United States produced 33 per cent. West Virginia shares with its neighboring States, Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Ohio, a generous deposit of this material, the foundation of all manufacturing industries. In the production of coke West Virginia stands next to Pennsylvania, in 1892 supplying 1,313,449 tons. The salt wells at one time supported a leading industry in the State, and although the production of salt has declined by competition with other States, it still awaits a future development that may become of great importance. George Washington, whose hand and eye seem to have been on everything of value in the new Union, in 1775 located an acre of land near Charleston, W. Va., as a natural curiosity, a "burning spring." To-day the oil wells and gas plants of the State are rapidly encroaching on Pennsylvania in extent and importance; indeed, one oil district, Sistersville, is the most extensive in the world. It is asserted that West Virginia led Pennsylvania thirty years in the utilization of natural gas for manufactures and the use of coal oil. The traveler by night along the valley of the Ohio in this State is lighted on his way by these fiery signals of the amazing wealth stored in these vast reservoirs of nature. This industry is still in its infancy, being the result of the past twenty years experimenting, and its outcome can not be predicted. An experiment in paving a city street with fire brick in Charleston, W. Va., planned by Dr. John P. Hall, has given to several of the larger cities of the Union this admirable pavement, and this State can furnish the material to an extent not even yet understood. The building stones of the State are numerons and of great value. The wealth of West Virginia in mineral waters has been long understood. Its southeastern border is crowded with attractive summer resorts, where the health-giving waters and beautiful scenery are every year more widely appreciated.

But for the lover of nature and the primitive industry of man-the cultivation of the soil-West Virginia especially deserves the name given by the jolly "Knights of the Golden Horseshoe" in the early days of the Old Dominion to the entire region beyond the Blue Ridge, “God's country." Although sadly neglected, like the entire central mountain region of the old South (as extensive as the German Empire, and, according to expert testimony, capable of an agricultural developement as great as Germany), during the first one hundred years of headlong immigration from the old East to the future Northwest and Southwest, this country bides its time and unless paralyzed by some impracticable political or industrial policy, in half a century from to-day may become one of the most attractive portions of the Republic.

West Virginia touches upon the northern and southern belts of production with a good portion of her own acres capable of successful cultivation. Her productions are corn, wheat, oats, buckwheat, and vegetables. In garden stuffs she has a great future ahead. The fruits of the North, apples, berries, and especially the grape, can be grown here to great advantage. But in the possession of a vast area of the precious blue grass there is no American State which has such a mine of wealth. No traveler who has looked on the lovely spectacle of the rolling country just retired from the valley of the Ohio in its early summer dress, or on the cultivated farms reaching the summits of the grass-covered hills and mountains, can doubt that in the support of cattle, sheep, and all the varieties of animal industry the State has a remarkable opportunity ahead. No estimate of the loss by the old-time, ignorant, provincial habit of farming to this portion of the country can be made. But every dollar now expended upon the coming generation of the youth of West Virginia to lift her people above the wasteful and crude habits of using the land will come back, before many days, in an era of prosperity. As we now look upon our great Eastern cities, in the midsummer swarming with an army of "the unemployed," too often people who are being nursed into a chronic class of the improvident and indolent, dependent upon the crumbs that fall from the tables of wealth in old communities, we long for a new departure in public charity which shall put a fist with steam power behind it to force a multitude of these dependent families to a land like West Virginia, where, with half the toil and sacrifice endured by the pioneers of every American Commonwealth, they could live in peace, comfort, and with the gain of character, self-respect, and hope for the children which can never come to them in their present surroundings.

There can be no doubt that the present resources of West Virginia are competent to support a larger population than is now gathered in any State of the Union. And it only requires a liberal home policy, an extension of common school facilities, with an annex of industrial education, to realize the most enthusiastic expectations of its best informed citizens. So far the State is being saved, except in a few mining districts, from an undue per cent of the lower element of recent foreign labor. It has the added advantage of exemption from the presence of great masses of the lower orders of colored people, who for many years must be both a tax and a strong appeal to Christian wisdom, charity, and patriotism in the majority of Southern States.

It is almost incredible to a traveler, for the first time made acquainted with this great and beautiful mountain State, that with a steady development during thirty years past, there are still a smaller number of people living upon the 24,715 square miles than within the area of 30 miles in and around the city of Boston. It may be that in this attractive mountain land, at the center of the old Union, will be developed the class we all pray for, that will inaugurate a movement back from the dangers and dependencies of city life, where thousands now welter in poverty, hopeless of better things, to this glorious open country, to begin anew the struggle for an independent and valuable American citizenship.

But in no respect has West Virginia given such evidence of vitality and progressive spirit as in the extraordinary development of public education during the past thirty years. It is doubtful if any State of the Union in 1860 could present a more meager array of educational opportunities and a more discouraging spectacle of widespread illiteracy than this portion of the Old Dominion. There are no statistics of the relative illiteracy of different portions of the country, of decisive valne, previous to the civil war. But the testimony of all the more observing older people of this entire region of Virginia west of the Alleghanies, including the rural districts of the present southwest Virginia and West Virginia, bears hardly upon both these States in this respect. Up to the breaking out of the civil war the present 54 counties of West Virginia were but poorly supplied with what was the only genuine educational opportunity offered by old Virginia, the colleges and academies established for the higher and secondary education. At this period Virginia east of the Alleghanies was, without question, the portion of the South best supplied with these facilities for superior instruction. Half a dozen colleges of average reputation, with the University of Virginia-then and perhaps still the leader of Southern universities of the higher grade-and a score of academies, private and denominational, afforded a reasonable opportunity for the schooling of the day to all who were able to pay the cost. Besides this, there was still a considerable group of families who educated their children by home tutorship or in the superior schools of the North and Europe. The real disability was with the masses of the white people, unable to meet the expense and, perhaps, often disinclined to make the proper exertion to secure an education for their children.

The educational "delusion and snare" of that time, the "free school," practically a pauper school, despised by those to whom it was offered and contemptuously neglected by those whose duty it was to provide an effective scheme of common schooling for the majority of the citizens of the State, was the common method of