guidance is offered by the psychoanalyst. He exercises the priestly functions of the confessional and of exorcizing demons; whilst Coué and his disciples offer a new technique of prayer. The validity of these practices is not here my subject, but the fact that people are getting what they want. Such new ways of meeting old demands are continually being found, and may not the Universities soon find themselves in the position of the Church? Several things would make the suggestion plausible.

In the first place, education is already being purveyed as a commercial product. Quite apart from the self-educators produced fortnightly by the Press, there are Mind-training Institutes and Correspondence Colleges. Universities at the present time can afford to ignore this competition. They have, they think, the pull in traditional prestige, the advantages of the tutorial system, the general atmosphere of culture, and they have, we trust, at present the most distinguished scholars. But traditional prestige is a slippery foundation for any institution now-a-days. The test that is being applied is that of practical efficiency. Already happy-go-lucky methods in University finance are being examined by Royal Commissions and by financial experts. The next thing will be that they will start to scrutinize the educational methods being employed. Already, moreover, the newer institutions are being forced to mould themselves upon the model of an up-to-date business office. Soon they will adopt those well-proven adjuncts of commercial progress—modern methods of advertisement, for instance.

When the printing press arose, priests, no doubt, preserved their self-assurance by reliance upon the peculiar efficiency of the spoken word. They clung to the sermon and scorned the weapon of the pamphleteers. When comparing themselves with the Correspondence Colleges, the Universities resort to a similar argument. One day, however, the Correspondence Colleges will realize the possibilities in wireless as an adjunct to their methods.