thesis. But not to make any mystery of this, let me only say that, when it is proposed to treat any subject in education philosophically, you are all invited to think that subject as nearly through as you possibly can—to think it out to the end; and then to put together in the form of a judgment for a guide in future practise, what you have thus thought through. "Through-ness," or thoroughness, is thus essential to the method of philosophy.
But do not for a moment suppose that a philosophy of any one of the groups of problems which puzzle and worry the professional teacher can be based on airy nothings, on mere imaginings or vague sentiments—however worthy and noble in themselves these imaginings and sentiments may seem. All sound and good philosophy must be based on experience—either of one's own or, what is better oftentimes, as embodied in some judgment that makes a valid claim to at least a sort of scientific quality.
And here we are to remind ourselves that there are certain forms of study which, whether they can be called "sciences," or not, in the stricter meaning of that word, embody the kind of experience on which the philosophy of any particular group of
problems in education must be based. I do not suffer myself to speak of a science of pedagogy. Indeed, the larger amount of what is current under this term seems to me distressingly shallow; and
