systematic training of any kind; sensation or feeling plays no part in it, and thought is left to take care of itself.
Theoretically, the mental process has a good deal to be said in its favor; but in actual operation the system has proved to be disastrous, and the records an American railroads illustrate only too eloquently the fallacy of the principle, under any conditions, where human lives are at stake. It is simply a question between the ethics and philosophy of Portia, and the blind impartiality of Othello as applied to the railroad business. In social affairs and in relation to conduct between individuals, the standards of Portia are gracious and commendable; but on a battleship, in the army, and just as surely on a railroad, the services of the rugged Othello will be found at all times to be the most effectual. In the United States, however, there is a certain altruistic sentiment that would fain submerge the ethics and principles of the old-time disciplinarian. Not only does this criticism apply to affairs on a railroad, but our educational methods, in every direction, seem to be threatened with the same peril. On all sides there now appears to be a disinclination to use authority. There seems to be something in the nature of a national kick against constraint or discipline of any kind. The ideals and rugged characteristics of American manhood, both on rail-
