|- § • 4 • • • H • i t.ſ.v ºm ' ? | , ، ، ، ، ، ، · · · · · · · · · -s • • • • - • • • • • * * * ' • • • a - < * V- ; } § i > 4- Æ* $• --> Thomas, Isaac . . . . . . . The Teaching of English. - 2. Scott , F. N • • . . . . What the West Wants in Pre — parat ory English. Greenough, C. N. , Hersey, F. W. C. , Nutt. er, C. R. • • . . . . A Report on the Examinations in English for Admission to Harvard College. §«444* .... A Plea. For the Study or Hist, orical English. N. E. Assoc. of Teachers of English . . . . . . Report on the Study of English Ijanguage and Ijit, erature in Elementary and Sec ondary Schools. Gildersleeve, V. C. , &: Haskell . . . . . . Should the , Army Canteen be Restored. Gs\*•-•- ^^~| Harris, J. H. . . . . . The Recent History and Present Status of the English Curriculum. Cooper, L. . . . . . . Methods and Aims in the Study of Lit erature: Opinions from two IPo et S. Woodhull, J. F. . . . . . How the Public Will Solve Our Problems of Scienc e Teaching. Terry, H. I . . . . . . . The New Mov ement in Physics Teaching. Coult er, J. M. . . . . . . What the University Expects of the Secondary chool. _ Johnston, C. H. . . . . . The Social Significance of Various Mov ement s for Industrial Education. Fultom, R. B. . . . . . The Cecil Rhodes Scholarships. • • • • • • • • • • • • Vox Populi. Wells, C. W. . . . . . . The Literary Scholar. < o % -P || a \\o N. E. Assoc. of Teachers of English. ... Report of the Standing Committ ee on Entra,nc e Requirement s. \\ Winkler, -M........... Geethe and Self-Culture. \! Auerbach, J. S • • • • English Style. \>\ Russell, I. 3- • . . . . Research in the Stat e Universities. %-C Kelsey, E'. W. . . . . The Cues of Caesar. $ \ Report on Courses of Study in English for Public , - Schools. jv Russeli, E • H • • • • • • y&ater, IReading in Elementary Schools. 2.3 Thurber, S • • • • • • vé tary Reading in the Classical -- High School. 2- A. ŠÅ ; â'}$ {& V; N &-<*»*^ \ea-i- V. v^ C-'• »! l-y- ¥ ^t, i s-.{ v. -, % Buck, G. . . . . . Make-Believe Grammar. „¢^ •* 2o Scott, F. N. .... The Value Qf English to the - , , Practicijg Engine er. 27 • 2-\ e\ 2® Drown, T. M. . . . . . . The Educational Value of - Engineering Studies. j - X."] Report, of Standing Committ ee of New England Assoc. of Teachers of English on Aids in Teaching English. . . . . Textbooks in Rhetoric and in Composition. 30 van I)yke, H. . . . . . . Reading and Writ,ing in the Teaching of English. `„ •*$-. 3\ The Report, of the Standing Committ ee 'of the N. E. Assoc. of Teachers of English on Courses of Study: . . . The Course of Study in English - The Call for it , the character of it, and the Construction of it . °'\ Neilson, W. A. . . . . What the College Has a Right to Expect of the Schools in English. 33Scott, F. N. ..... College Entrance Requirements in English. - 3\alentine, R. G. . . . . . On Criticism of Temes by g^ Student, s. Mead, W. E. . . . . . The Undergraduat e Study of English Composition. -) $ •« ? - J* JShute, Katherine A. ..... The Teaching of English. gra*e, J. H. . . . . . . Classical Conferenc e Pro- £ a££% § ceedings. ; At, \ vt v-*^ *• V. ), ›› „V%-a.^^ CY> >i\– ~re** &¥.g*****„ ASchlicher, J. J. ...... Background of Indirect : I)iscourse. - A?; . ' . • ~ w , The N. E. Assoc. of Teachers of English. SA. - - §ovsae 3-o<£-•geeeaáaae*-E§uea£ ie* . A*. sta*-+eé4. 6…&.-t Q-a->-- Q-v-~~T Mensel, E. H. . . . . . The Affiliat ed School in Theory and Practice. - .- A x • Jordam, Mary A. . . . . Fact s and Fictions in English. , Ἀ. Y^; ^scott, IF. N . . . . . . . A Substitut e for the Classic s. ^Vaughan, V. C . . . . . . The Value of Greek and Latin *\ - to the Medical Student. T `Hinsdale, W. B. . . . . . The Value of Humanistic Studies as a. Préparation for f- the Study of Medicine. Ì\$. - \ Sadler, H. C . . . . . . The Value of the Humanistic studies as a. Preparation for the Study of Engineering. »**• §-i §. * ; - * * w . N ,^ } -_. I 78 Æa/ucatzoma/ A&evzezv [February three types of schools are: (a) The elementary evening schools, to care for the droppings from the elementary day schools, to assimilate the foreigners, and to Offer Some special tech- nical instruction, chiefly commercial, for adults not qualified for any other higher school. In New York City alone, there are one thousand, three hundred and twenty-one teachers li- censed to teach in evening schools only. (b) The evening high Schools, which are on a high plane of excellence, and largely attended by married men and women, as well as boys and girls. (c) The third type, technical and trade schools, constitute our highest branch of evening school work. These, at present in the elementary stage, are not nearly so numerous as our intense industrial competition would seem to warrant. . Promising ambitious immigrants eagerly take to these schools. Those at Springfield, Buffalo, Boston, and New York are very successful. The teachers are practically men. Shop-mathe- matics, mechanica1 and architectural drawing, industrial chem- istry, applied physics, electricity, wood and iron work, printing, etc., represent the typical subjects in these curriculums. Y. M. C. A.'s, the Cooper Institute, and other such institutions, for- ward the same line of work. Massachusetts and New York Show vigor of purpose in this direction. The attendance must be improved and the school must become closer to the trades. This accomplished, their spread in other states effected, their future would seem bright. As regards purely industrial training, Massachusetts seems to be anxious for legislative treatment of the problem. A Commission for Industria1 Education was created by the Massachusetts legislature in June, I9o5. Professor Paul H. Hanus, who has been greatly imprest with Dr. Kerschen- steiner's work at Munich, is chairman. This Commission has carefully investigated local and foreign methods, has sought to coöperate with localities in establishing public in- dustrial Schools, coördinate, where possible, with existing day high Schools, with a plan for incorporating in the curriculum the special industrial education locally in demand, and making annual reports to the legislature. They have reached the fol- lowing conclusions: That there is a strong interest among the sociologists and educational experts; that there is a general I909] Various movememts for zndustria/ educatiom I 79 lack of definite ideas on industrial education; that there is a growing feeling that our present school system does not meet the exact needs of the great body of children of the state; and that both wage-earners and manufacturers are practically and specifically interested in the furthering of “ industrial , intelligence.” Furthermore, that the state should aid the locality financially in the matter; that children should not be driven directly by public education out of the trades; that such Schools should accept none under fourteen years of age; that industry will not suffer when these adolescents are re- cruited for Schools; that manual training at present can not fill the demand; and that, in consideration of the fact that there are in Massachusetts alone Over twenty-five thousand boys of adolescent age under no educational tutelage what- ever, and many more who could be best helped by this type of education, these schools should be an independent part of our public school system, and that the fundamental ideas underlying the movement be part of the governmental educational policy. The chief and direct bearing of this whole movement is thus directed at the high School's remodeling, changing, or supplementing its traditional functions. Some, President Eliot, C. H. Morse, Hanus, and other prominent leaders of opinion, favor an independent and coördinate institution, furnishing the needed training for the great mass of the population whose destiny is decided at the high school age, and whose civic function is in making the tone of the great artizan class bet- ter thru skill. Others, fearing that nearness to trade ideals and methods endangers the idealizing function of our present democratically planned high School, propose that it should adopt a six-year course plan, with many electives, preserving the national unit idea of organization, and gradually becoming better adapted in a conservative way to the concrete needs of modern industria1 and social life. Far-reaching, also, must be the effects of this wave of edu- cational influence upon the whole policy of elementary instruc- tion. Draper, Eliot, Hanus, Sadler, and Others unite in urg- ing that somehow the new type of elementary school be far more practical and constructive in its curriculum, pay much I 8o Æduca/zoma/ RevzezJ more attention to physical training. and to active corporate life, and adopt simpler aims as to the more literary studies. As regards the effect desired upon the colleges and uni- versities, such men, or some of them, feel that, as at present administered, these institutions are not sufficiently democratic; that their restrictions in the way of admission requirements tend too much to become petty and academic, forcing the lower educational institutions to mold their policy for the few, rather than the many. This is, of course, no criticism of the unique function of universities, but more in the nature of a plea that all such higher educationa1 institutions encourage, rather than discourage, the secondary school in its broad but necessarily more superficial work of adapting itself to a larger con- stituency, cut off, for the most part, in the nature of the case from legitimate college aspirations. Those teaching and ad- ministering systems of secondary grade feel the various pres- sures, the call to develop personality and economic independ- ence, to produce for the state an output of students economi- cally and socially safe, and to preserve, too, the humane ele- ments. Clearly, in all countries with urbanized population and a highly developed industrial system, the further education above described, continuing elementary work, bids fair to be- come one of the chief educational problems. For the success of this far-reaching movement an active propaganda in- spiring the industrial classes with humane industrial intelli- gence as a social ideal, generally improved conditions in the elementary school, and further limitation of employment of young people thru the pubescent period, are absolute essentials. This applies, naturally, to both industrial and agricultural com- munities. The systematization of the training called for, and provision for properly equipping a corps of teachers for this work are equally essential, and also possible future develop- ments. The opinion of many is that to protect industrial training from extreme measures, the safest way is not to house it in independent school plants, but have it organically affiliated with the present system. CHARLES HUGHES JOHNSTON UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN \ 3 BULLETTN OF THE UNIVERSITY OF MISSISSIPPI. SUPPLEMENT TO SERIES II. AUGUST, 1903, NUMBER 3. (Bu11etins issued Quarterly. App1ication made for entry as second-class mai1 matter.) - - »- $ 2^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^ p* -^ - THE CECIL RHODES SCHOLARSHIPS No bequest for education made in m, odern times has attracted such world-wide attention as have the - provisions in the testamentary dispositions of the late Right Honorable Cecil John Rhodes relatjng to the es- tablishment of scholarships in the University of Oxford, for students from the Colonies and the United . States of North America. The entire wi11 of Mr. Rhodes is one of the most extraordinary testam entary docu- ments ever placed upon record, and it is a worthy pro- duct of the mind of this most remarkable mam, who planned an empire, and makes bequests in a manner worthy of an emperor. The execution of the will, and in fact the entire management of the estate of Mr. Rhodes, is left in charge of his friends, Lord Milner, Lord Rosebery, Mr. N- Lewis Loyd Miche11, Lord Grey, Mr. A1fred Beit, Mr. Bourchier Francis Hawksley, and Dr. Leander Starr Jamesom, who as trustees have the largest discretion in carrying out the general purpose of the testator. Impressive as are the magnificent donations made to other public interests, the provisions relating to the scholarships are of the largest interest, not only to the individuals who may be concerned with them, but to the institutions of 1earning and to the several countries which are interested. Following is the litera1 text of the provisions relating to these scholarships, as stated in the will of Mr. Rhodes and the codicils : “Whereas I consider that the education of young Colonists at one of the Universities in the United King- dom is of great, ad vantage to them for giving breadth to their views for their instruction in 11fe and manners and for instilling into their minds the ad vantage to the Colonies as well as to the United Kingdom of the reten- tion of the unity of the Empire And whereas in the case of young Colonists studying at a University in the United Kingdom I attach very great importance to the University having a residentia1 system such as is in force at the Universities of Oxford ahd Cambridge for without it those students are at the most critical period of their lives left without any supervision And whereas there are at the present time 50 or more students from South Africa studying at the University, of Edinburgh many of whom are attracted there by its excellent med- ( 2 ica1 school and I should like to establish some of the Scholarships hereinafter mentioned in that University hut owing to its not having such a residentia1 system as aforesaid I feel obliged to refrain from dqing so And Whereas my own University the University of Oxford has such a system and I suggest that it should try and extend its scope so as if possible to make its medical school at least as good as that at the University of Edin- tourgh And whereas I also desire to encourage and foster an appreciation of the advantages which I implic- itly believe will result from the union of the English- speaking peoples throughout the world anâ to encourage in the students from the United States of North Ameri- ca who will benefit from the American Scholarships to be established for the reason above given at the Uni- versity of Oxford under this my Wil1 an attachment to the country from which they have sprung but without I hope withdrawing them or their sympathies from the 1and of their adoption or birth Now therefore I direct my Trustees as soon as may be after my death and either simultaneously or gradually as they shal1 find convenient and if gradually then in such order as they shall think fit to establish for male students the scholar- ships hereinafter directed to be established each of which shall be of yearly value of £300 and be tenable at any College in the University of Oxford for three con- secutive academica1 years. “I direct my Trustees to establish certain Scholar- ships and these Scholarships I sometimes hereinafter refer to as *the Colonial Scholarships.* 3 ( “The appropriation of the Colonia1Scholarships and the numbers to be annually filled up shall be in accor- dance with the following table:—— Tota 1 No. ap- propri- ated. No. Of Scho1ar- ships to be fi11ed each year. To be tenable by Students of or from PRhodesia. 3 and no more The South African Co11ege Schoo1 in the Colony of Cape of Good Eope...... 1 , The Ste11enbosch Co11ege Schoo1 in the same Colony.. , .................... 1 The Diocesan Co11ege School of Ronde- toosch in the same Colony , ... * ® • & è û © © • e • * e £• ® • • • * & s e s ® e s e and no more. : and mo more. 3 1 and, no more. 3 [St. Andrews Co11ege Schoo1 Grahams- town in the same Colony........... 1 and no more. 3 The Colony of Natal................ . . 1 and no more. 3 The Colony of New South Wales....... 1 and no more. 3 [The Colony of Victoria...... .. ,....... 1 and no more. 3 [The Colony of South Australia........ 1 and no more. 3 [The Colony of Queens1and. ............ 1 and no more. 3 The Colony of Western Austra1ia...... 1 and no more. 3 [The Colony of Tasmania................ 1 and no more. 3 The Colony of New Zealand........... 1 and no more. 3 The Province of Ontario in the Domin- ion of Canada...................... 1 and no more. 3 [The Province of Quebec in the Domin- \. ion of Canada......... ............ 1 and no more. 3 [The Colony or Is1and of Newfoundland and its Dependencies..... ......... 1 and no more. 3 [The Colony or Is1ands of the Bermudas.] 1 and no more. 3 [The Colony or Island of Jamaica....... 1 and no more. “I further direct my Trustees to establish addi- tiona1 Scholarships sufficient in number for the appro- priation in the next following clause hereof directed and those Scholarships I sometimes here1nafter refer to as *the Americam Scholarships.' ( 4 “I appropriate two of the American Scholarships to each of the present States and Territories of the United States of North America Provided that if any of the said Territories shall in my lifetime be admitted as a State the Scholarships appropriated to such Terri- tory shall be appropriated to such State and that my Trustees may in their uncontrol1ed discretion withold for sucb time as they shall think fit the appropriation of Scholarships to any Territory. “I direct that of the two Scholarships appropriated to a State or Territory not more than one shall be filled up in any year so that at no time sha11 more than two Scholarships be- held for the same State or Territory. “The Scholarships shal1 be paid only out of income and in the event at any time of income being insuffi- cient for payment in ful1 of all the Scholarships for the time being payable I direct that (without prejudice to the vested interests of holders for the time being of Scholarships) the following order of priority shall reg- ulate the payment of Scholarships. “(i) First the Scholarships of Students of or from Rhodesia shall be paid. • “(ii) Secondly the Scholarships of students from the said South Africam Stellenbosch Rondebosch and St. Andrews Schools sha11 be paid. “(iii) Thirdly the remainder of the Colonia1 Scho1- arships shall be paid and if there shall not be sufficient income for the purpose such Scholarships shal1 abate proportionately ; and “(iv) Fourthly the American Scholarships sha11 be v 5 5 paid and if there sha11 not be sufficient income for the purpose sucb Sholarships shal1 abate proportionately, “My desire being that the students who shall be elected to the Scholarships shall not be merely book- Worms I direct that in the election of a student to a Scholarship regard shall be had to (i) his literary and scholastic attainments (ii) his fondness of and success in manly outdoor sports such as crjcket footbal1 and the like (iii) his qualities of manhood truth courage devotion to duty sympathy for the protection of the weak kindliness unselfishness and fellowship and (iv) his exhibition during school days of moral force of character and of instincts to 1ead and to take an inter- est in his schoolmates for those latter attributes will be likely in afterlife to guide him to esteem the perfor- mance of public duties as his highest aim As mere suggestions for the guidance of those who will have the choice of students for the Scholarships I record that (i) my idea1 qualified student would combine these four qualifications in the proportions of 3-10ths for the first 2-10ths for the second 3-10th s for the third and 2-10thsfor the fourth qualification so tnat according to my ideas if the maximum number of marks for any Scholarship were 200 they would be apportioned as fol- 1ows—60 to each of the first and third qualifications and 40 to each of the second and fourth qualifications (ii) the marks for the severa1 qualifications wou1d be awarded independently as follows (that is to say) fhe marks for the first qualification by examination for the second and third qualifications respectively by ballot by the felloW-students of the candidates and for the fourth 6 qualification by the head master of the candidate's schoo1 and (iii) the results of the awards (thatis to say the marks obtained by each candidate for each qualifi- cation) would be sent as soon as possible for considera- tiom to the Trustees or to some person or persoms ap- pointed to receive the same and the person or persons so appointed would ascertain by averaging the marks in blocks of 20 marks each of a11 candidates the best ideal qualified students. “No student shall be qualified or disqualified for e1ection to a Scholarship on account of his race or re- ligious opinions. “Except in the cases of the four schools hereinbefore mentioned the election to Scholarships shal1 be by the Trustees after such (if any) consultation as they sha11 think fit with the Minister having the contro1 of educa- tion in such Colony Province State or Territory. “A qualified student who has been elected as afore- said shal1 within six calendar months after his election or as soom thereafter as he can be admitted into resi- dence or within such extended time as my Trustees shall allow commence residence as an undergraduate at some co11ege in the University of Oxford. “The Scholarships shal1 be payable to him from the time when he sha11 commence such residence. “28. I desire that the Scholars holding the schol- arships shal1 be distributed amongst the Colleges of the University of Oxford and not resort in undue num- bers to one or more Colleges only. “29. Nothwithstanding anything hereinbefore con- tained my Trustees may in their uncontro11ed discre- 7 $ \ tiom suspend for such time as they shall think fit or remove any Scholar from his scholarship. “30. My Trustees may from time to time make vary and repeal regulations either general or affecting specified Scholarships only with regard to al1 or any of the following matters that is to say: **(i) The election whether after examination or otherwise of qualified Students to the Scholarships or any of them and the method whether by examination or otherwise in which their qualifications are to be ascer- tained. “(ii) The tenure of the Scholarships by scholars. “(iii) The suspension and remova1 of scholars from their Scholarships. “(iv) The method and times of payment of the Scholarships. “(v) The method of giving effect to my wish ex- pressed in clause 28 hereof and “(vi) Any and every other matter with regard to the Scholarships or any of them with regard to which they shall consider regulations necessary or desirable. “31. My Trustees may from time to time authorize regulations with regard to the election whether after examination or otherwise of qualified students for Scholarships and to the method whether by examina- tion or otherwise in which their qualifications are to be ascertained to be made— “(i) By a school in respect of the Scholarships tenable by its students and— **(ii) By the Minister aforesaid of a Colony Prov- 8 ince State or Territory in respect of the Scholarships tenable by students from such Colony Province State or Territory. “32. Regulations made under the last preceding clause hereof if and when approved of and not before by my Trustees shall be equivalent in all respects to regulations made by my Trustees. “No regulations made under clause 30 or made and approved of under clauses 31 and 32 hereof shall be in- consistent with any of the provisions herein conta1ned. “In order that the scholars past and present may have opportunities of meeting and discussing their ex- periences and prospects I desire that my Trustees shal1 annually give a dinner to the past and present scholars able and willing to attend at which I hope my Trustees or some of them will be able to be present and to which they will I hope from time to time invite as guests per- sons who have shown sympathy with the views express- ed by me in this my Will.** In accomplishing the purpose of Mr. Rhodes the Trustees very wisely decided to have made a careful investigation of the the educational' conditions existing in the several states provinces and countries in which scholars are to be appointed. They selected for their agent Dr. George R. Parkin, Presi- dent of Upper Canada College, Toronto, whose large experience in educationa1 matters and whose wide knowledge of men and affairs give him a peculiar fit- ness for this work. Dr. Parkin has devoted more than 9 .-« twelve ruonths to a carefu1 study of the matter in a11 of its phases in a11 countries interested. In the fall of 1902 he spent several months in Oxford, studying the conditions in the severa1 colleges of the University and making arrangement with the authorities for the ad- missiom of as many scholars as each college might be able to receive. The conservatism with which en- tramce to the colleges has so long been guarded was fully satisfied by Dr. Parkin's good judgment and know- ledge of conditions there and elsewhere, and he suc- ceeded in making such arrangements as will enable the scholars who may be appointed to undertake their work in one or other of the col1eges included in the University of Oxford. In December last Dr. Parkin re- turmed to America and conferred with 1eaders of education in a11 sections of the Union. In January he met by invitation with the Nationa1 Association of State Universities, in Washington, when he made ar- rangements to confer with the representatives of the 1eading co11eges in different parts of the country in groups. He met representatives from the Southern States east of the Mississippi in Atlanta in February, 1903. The purpose in these meetings was to formulate such modes of procedure in the selection of scholars as would best meet the educational conditions in different parts of the United States. ( Q ) 10 Following the report made by Dr. Parkin to the Trustees of the Cecil Rhodes bequest there was issued by them a Memorandum2 forthe information of persons in the United States who may be interested in the appoint- ment of scholars, a copy of which memorandum is here shown. MEMORANDUM. The Rhodes Scholarships in the United States. THE Trustees Of the Will of the late Mr. C. J. Rhodes have prepared the following Memorandum for the information of College Authorities and intending cam- d dates for scholarships in the United States:— The first election of scholars in the United States under the Rhodes bequest Will be made between Febru- ary and May, 1904. The elected Scholars Willcommence residence in October, 1904. A qualifying examination will be held withim this period in each state and territory, or at centres which *-. 11 cam be easily reached. This examination is not com- petitive, but is intended to give assurance that all candidates are fully qualified to enter om a course of study at Oxford University. It will therefore be based om the requirementis for Responsions—the first public examination exacted by the university from each candidate for a, degree. The Rhodes scholars will be selected from candidates who have successfully passed this examination. One scholar will be chosen for each state and territory to which scholarships are assigned. The requirements of the Responsions examination, as stated in the Statutes of the University of Oxford, a re as follows:— Candidates must offer the fo11owing :— (1) Arithmetic—the whole. 1 (2) Either Algebra. Addition, Subtraction, Multip1ication, Diyision, Greatest Common Measure, Least Common Multiple, Fractions, Extrac- tion of Square Root, Simple Equations containing one or two unknown quantities, and problems producing such equations. Or Geometry. Euclid's Elements, Books I, II. 2 Euclid's axioms wi11 be required, and no proof of any proposition wi11 be admitted ————~s 'Candidates alre expected to be able to do correctly sums in Vu1gar and Decima1 Fractions, Practice, Proportion and its ap- plications, Interest (Simp1e and Compound), Square Measure and Square Root. 2Candidates should be careful to answer questions in both books. 12 which assumes the proof of anything not proved in preceeding propositions of Euclid, (3) Greek and Latin Grammar. (4) Trans1ation from English into Latin Prose. (5) Greek and Latin Authors. Candidates must offer two books, óne Greek and one Latin, or Unseen Trans1ation. The fo11owing portions of the under-men- tioned authors wi11 be accepted :— DEMosTHENEs : (1) Philippics 1-3, and O1ynthiacs 1-3, or (2) De Corona. EURIPIDEs, any two of the fo11owing plays : EHecuba, Medea, Alcestis, Bacchae. HoMER (1) I1iad 1-5, or 2-6 ; or (2) Odyssey 1-5, or 2-6. PLATO, Apology and Crito. SoPHOCLEs, Antigone and Ajax. XENOPHON, Anabasis 1-4, or 2-5. CAESAR, De Be11o Ga11ico 1-4. CIcERo : (1) the first two Phi1ippic Orations ; or (2) the four Catiline Orations, and In Verrem, Act I ; or (3) the Orations Pro Murena and Pro Lege Manilia ; or (4) the treatises De Senectute and De Amicitia. HoRAcE : (1) Odes 1-4 ; or (2) Satires ; or (3) Epistles. LIvy, Books 21 and 22. (After Michaelmas, 1903, Books V. and VI.) VIRGIL : (1) the Bucolics, with Books 1-3 of the Aeneid ; or (2) the Georgics ; or (3) the Aeneid, Books 1-5, or 2-6. Papers covering this range of study will be prepar- ed by examiners appointed by the Trustees, and will be sent to each centre, where, at a, date publicly announced the examination will beheld under proper supervision, and the papers returned to the examiners. ) A lust, of those who have successfully passedthis test wjl] as soon as possible be furnished to the chairmam of the committee of selection in each state or province, Or to the university making the appointment, and from this list the committee or university will proceed to elect the scholars. The committees and the universities making ap- pointments will be furnished with a statement of the qualifications which Mr. Rhodes desired in the holders of his scholarships, and they will be asked in exercisimg their right of selection to comply as mearly as circum- stances will permit with the spirit of the testator's Wishes. They will also be asked to furnish to the Trustees as full a, statemem t as possible of the school and col- lege career of each elected scholar, with the special grounds of his appointment, together with suggestioms, if desired, as to the course of study for which hejs best fitted. *• It has been decided that all scholars shal1 have reached at least the end of their Sophomore or second year work at some recognised degree-granting univer- sity or college of the United States. Scholars must be unmarried, must be citizens oí the United States, and must be between mimeteen and twenty-five years of age. Where several candidates present themselves from a single college or uliiversity, the committees of selee- 14 tion will request the Faculty of the college tO decide between their claims on the basis of Mr. Rhodes' sug- gestions, and present to the committee the name of the candidate chosen by that college as its representa- tive in the final elect1on. Candidates may elect whether they will apply for the scholarship of the state in which they have ac- quired the above-mentioned educational qualification, Or for that of the state in which they have their Ordi- nary private domicile, home Or residence. They must be prepared to present themselves for examination in the state they select. No candidate may compete in more than One state. Candidates for scholarships should, during the month of January, 1904, notify the chairmam of the committee of selection in the state or territory for which they apply, Or the head of the university ap- pointing to the scholarship, of their intention to pre- sent themselves for examination. The decision of the committee of selection or of the university making ap- pointment shall be final as regards eligibility. A list; of the chairmen of state committees is appended, and of the universities which make appointments. Any inquiries about Oxford, its colleges and the cóurses of study there, should be addressed tO F. J. Wylie, Esq., the Oxford agent of the Rhodes Trustees. The presidents Of Americam colleges are requested to send to Mr. Wylie, for the information of the Trustees 15 S. copies of their ammual calendar, and such other college literature as they may think useful. Copies of Oxford Responsiom papers for past years can be obtained from the Oxford University Press, 91 and 95, Fifth Avemue, New York. The Students? Handbook of Oxford cam be ordered at the same ad- dress. It gives full information about the examinations of the university, subject to changes made since thelast edition was issued. “Oxford As It Is,” a small pamphlet prepared by Mr. Louis Dyer, of Harvard and Balliol Colleges, for the use of Americam candidates, gives all essential in- formatiom in a, condensed form. It cam be Ordered from Macmillam & Co., Fifth Avemue, New York. “Oxford and its Colleges,” written by Mr. J. Wells, of Wadham College, and “Oxford and Oxford Life,** edited by the same gentleman, may be recommended for those who wish to gain fuller information about; the university and its colleges. The president of the state university or college is in each of the following states chairmam of the commit- tee of selection for that state—Alabama, Arizona, Arkansas, California, Colorado, Florida, Georgia, Idaho, Iridiana, Iowa, Kansas, Louisiana, Michigam, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Monfana, Nabraska, Nevada, New Mexico, North Carolina, Noith Dakota, Ohio,Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, 16 South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Virginia, West Virginia, Wisconsim, Wyoming. The following ehairmem have been mamed for Other states:— CONNEcTIcUT.—President ARTHUR T. HADLEY, LL. D., Ya!e University. ILLINOIs.—President W. R. HARPER, Ph.D., D. D,, Univer- sity of Chicago. PKENTUcKv.—President D. B. Gray, D. D., Georgetowm Col- 1ege. MARVLAND, — President IRA REMSEN, LL.D., Johns Hop- kins University. MASSACHUSETTs.—President Charles W. E1iot, LL.ID., Harvard University. NEW HAMPSEIIRE.—President Wm. J. Tucker, D.D., Dart- mouth Co11ege. NEW JERSEy.—President Woodrow Wi1son, LL.D., Princeton lU niversity. NEw YoRK STATE.—President NICHOLAS MURRAY BUTLER, LL.D., Columbia University. RHODE ISLAND.—President W. H. P. FAUNCE, D.D., Brown lUniversity. In the following states appointments will be made by the chartered colleges and universitiés, in rota- tion:— CALIFORNIA, —University of California. Leland Stanford University. Sma11er co11eges every seventh year. 17 -. ) MAINE.—(The order of rotation yet to be fixed.) VERMON T.—University of Vermont. Middlebury Co11ege. WASHINGTON.—(The order of rotation yet to be fixed.) LONDON, /une, 1903. This Memorandum is published with the consent of Dr. Parkin in order that wide publicity may be given to the mode of procedure in the selection of scholars. The names of the members of the committees who will supervise examinations and make appointments in the several states and districts may be learned by applying to the chairmen above indicated. Dr. Parkim expects to return to America, early im 1904 to com- plete arrangements for the first election of scholars, which will be based upon examinations to be held between February and May, 1904. Very respectfully, ROBERT B. FULTON. CHANCELLOR?s OFFICE, UNIVERSITY OF MIssIssIPPI, Oct. 20, 1903. 18 (^a-e«e/e/ ¢r¢ &*a-a-/- //«? VOX POPULI Vol. I. Kal. NOv. Brewero Bradstreeto consulibus. IRENE S. BEIR * — «-* JULIA L. SAUER ERIC ALLING - s- e- - MARGUERITE REED - • s-s RUTH CRAMER DAVID OGDEN e-* e- - Scriptor IPrimus Scriptor Secundus & Scriptor Scriptor ¥ Scriptor Scriptor SCIENTIA DAT LUCEM Quisque in schola felix de mutatione in Vox Populi audiet: Id iam dudum pars Clarionis est et in eodem libello cum Clarione sed iam solum est sine necessitudine cum hoc libello. Hoc consilium captum est postquam multum cogitatum erat et optamus omnes iuturum esse et secundum futurum esse. Multo meliorem vox Populi faciet et ei opportunitatem cres- cendi dabit ut proximo anno Latina signa Edictum consulis de comitiis centuriatis habendis. Quod bonum felixque sit populo Romano. Ego, Willis Bradstreet, consul rei publicae Romanae edico ante diem tertiutm Nonas Novembris quae dies comitiis centuriatis futura sit. Ea die omnes cives Romanos omnium Ce11tar- His ordinum, omnium classium, omnium similia clarioneis signis dentur, Magnum discrimen in vita civitatis Romanae praeterivit et omnes laeti videntur civitatem iam stare. Plurimi boni cives se cupientes civitati auxilis esse declaraverunt et pripcipibus subsidio esse. Tale tempus numquam redeat et omnes pro i1lis rebus quae civitas perfecerit gratiam 11abeant et eam ad altiorem locum in vita nostrae scholae tollant quam ante umquam occupaverit. comitiis creabuntur centuriatium duo consules, iarum in campulum martium convoco. duo censores, octo praetores. Consul qui haec edicit, cum populo agit. Actum ad. undecimum Kal. Nov., Bradstreeto et Brewero consulibus. J% FABULA Quondam erant duo parvi tirones * qui simul in locum qui nomine '' altus ludus '' appellatus iniverunt. est, Primus tiro semper diligens fuerat et nunc omnes dies et omnes noctes *• studluit. Aliquando voluit aliquid praeter pensa sua facere posse sed hoc nuinquam perfecit. Alter tiro numquam diligens fuerat et nunc omnia praeter ea quae magister ei daret, egit, Ut primum hic tiro in a1tum ludum venit, primus erat in omnibus rebus, qui in 1udo suscipiendis erant. Numquam pensum suum cognovit sed cuique ordini se coniunxit et otnnibus athleticis. Ita duo tirones quattuor annos vixit et cum finis venisset, ecce, secundus tiro gradum suscepit sed primus relictus est! “ Quo modo id fecisti?” rogavit primus tiro 1n aeste, '* operatus sum diligens qauttuor annos dum panlum studuisti, tamen non arbitrantur me satis intellgere ut gradum suscipiam. Cuius est culpa?'' “ Illud est simplex,'' respondit amicus cum misericordia.'' Es non idoneus qui gradum suscipiat. Es solus pensis eruditus. Ego sum prin1us omnibus athleticis, ego dare oratiouem possum, drama etiam ego primus sum. Num potes facere haec omnia? Incipe iterum, mi care amice, 1mibi crede et fortasse quattuor annis gradum suscipias.'' Alter dixit 1maeste, '' Fortasse non erras ! '' et secundus tiro ex alto ludo in perpetuum abivit. Haec fabula significat non semper eurn tardum im motumque esse qui certamen vincit. * Freshmen. J% sCHOLAE ARDOR Ante scholam in conventu omnes qui scholae Hic ardorem habeant, cantant et clamitant. magnissimus labor est et O1nnes miserissimi sunt quod libellis studere non possunt. H. Nortonus dux clamoris est laetus vidlens ferociter gesticulatur. Clamore finito, hic dicit, “ Facite magniorem clamorem !'' Omnes boni pecuniam donant ut manum tubarum, tympaniorum et cornum habeant. Tandem East High Scholae cum hominibus Syracusarum in pila Hae res horribilem strepitum faciunt. dies venit, quo die undecim viri. cum pedibus 1usa contendant. Omnes qui scholae ardorem habeant, ante scholam congregant et ambulant ad locum ubi bellum gesturum sit. Cum unus hominum East High Scholae per hostem perambulat, H. Nortonus saltat et clamitat. Omnes cantant. “ Per campum incedete, Pugnantes pro East High Schola, Frangete antiquam Syracusas Eius roborem contemnete, Pro viris Sullyae clamabimus Hic sutnus vincere iterum Syracusae ad finem pugnent Sed homines nostri vincent. Operae pretium est te considerare Popularem partem. Potestis facile videre omnes eorum civis de amore rei publicae certare. Nostra pars habet omnes suos summo loco natos; omnes oratores, omnes cognitione dignos, omnes qui in re publica magni habentur. Denique nostri omnes condidati sunt cives summo ingenio, scientia, copia. Vobis affirmo te alias partes fallere, eas bene res gerere non posse, eas suam fidem et religionem pecunia commutare. Eorum casum dolemus sed eorum ammentiam videmus. Nolite eis credere ; sunt enim homines non vera re sed nomine solo. DICTA CARA NOSTRIS MAGISTRIS E. R. C—k. Paululo plus vocis, te amabo. M. D. G—y. errores iterum et iterum faciatis. Non comprehendo cur eosdem E. M. T—z. Non possum invenire viam qua haec classis catchupere potest. W. B—z. Cur est later *? A. H. W. Primae quattuor partes diei erint aequa longitudine. H. F—y. Est clarum non bene paratum esse. pensum E. R. P—e. Est magna res posse stare in vestris pedibus et dicere quod vultis. D. M. R —s. torcm Anglicum in schola hodie esse???! ! ! Nonne audivi te dicere inspec- R. B—s. Optima Anglica omnium gentium in Dublino dicitur. A. McM. Cum ego in Europa essem. J. M. H. Paulo minor clamor et vos amabo! O tempora ! O mores ! Syracusae haec intellexerunt; eorum viri intellexerunt. Ei tamen venerunt ! Ad nostram urbem venerunt, ad ruinam nos designaverunt. Ei autem quam- quam fortes viri fuerunt satis facere scholae suae visi sunt, si ex nostra urbe cum vitis suis effugerunt. Ad ruinam Syracusas duci; a nostris viris duobus annis oportebat. In Syracusas ruinam contulerunt quam Syracusae in nos iam diu machimantur. Cives, velim commemorare rem quae vobis recordanda est. Libellus, quem duos annos habimus et qui nos adjuvit ut mores Romanos melius cognosceremus, paratus est et editus est parte Equestri. Quod comitia adpropinquant, multum ardoris se jactat in tribus partibus. Est certe iustum ut partem adjuvemus qui plurimum rei publicae causa facit. Postremo anno Equestris pars vicit. Candidati huius partis fuerunt nobiles et fide certaverunt ut ad adeuntia comitia se pararent, principes Equestris partis fecerunt et agunt omnia quae hoc annum optimum factura sunt. Nonne laborabitis civitatis Romanae causa atque confirmabitis? Tum adjuingate vos parti Equestri quae honestatem, victoriam et * Brick. progressum promovet. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA TIf IE LITERARY SCIf IOLAR CHAUNCEY WETMORE WELLS [Reprimted from the UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA CHRONicLE, Vol. IX, No. 2] BERKELEY THE UNIVERSITY PRESS 1907 THE LITERARY SCHOLAR.* CHAUNCEY WETMORE WELLS. Mr. President, Members amd Friemds of Phi Beta Kappa: In the most noteworthy address ever delivered to this society of scholars Emersom defined the scholar as ** mam thinking.'' This definition took little or mo account of laboratories and microscopes, to this present age the sym- bols of scholarship in its most special sense of research and discovery. It contemplated rather the emlarging amd the forming of the mind ; neither learning alone, even if stored, pigeon-holed and labeled, say in a mind like Macaulay's; nor investigation alone; but a synthesis of these in the ex- tent and quality of mind in the individual scholar, and in the use he makes of his acquirements by virtue of these at- tributes. But it is seventy years since Emersom's promum- ciamento. And now the natural scienees have eome into vogue and dominanee, and the ideals and methods of the natural sciences have invaded evem the field of literaturç which, in its widest significance, of writtem humam expe. rience, was the field of Emersom's regard. Accordingly his definition may seem outworn. To me, On the contrary, Emerson's utteranee comes with the thrill of very prophecy. I have an assured belief that one day his idea will goverm throughout the whole domain of inquiry, because in his view of it alone is scholarship of any great worth. Now * Phi Beta Kappa address, delivered at the annual meeting of the society, in Hearst Hall, October 16, 1906. 4 because I wish to bear witness to this faith I have chosem my subject from the only quarter in whieh I eam command °, evidence. And also beeause my strong persuasion is that \ not only are the fairer meadows and the sweeter uplamds in this regiom, but favored lookouts from which, perhaps best of all, Emerson's visiom may be realized, I shall speak to you upon The Literary Scholar. I. But yesterday his seemed a lost cause. He was not for- tified against the scientifie invasiom. He seemed, at least, to be occupied with elegances and superfluities, and so he could not well eseape the discredit which Herbert Spenger in 1860 sought to throw upom the seriousness of his pursuit. Of belles lettres and of other fine arts Spencer declared that: “ As they occupy the leisure part of life, so should they occupy the leisure part of education.'' To the scholar castimg about in consternatiom for means to Spenger's in- junctiom, that he make his study scientific, came the anti- quariam. **Dom't you see,** he said, “that to put your sub- ject om a dignified basis you must find some way of investi- gating its phenomena and a rule of classification for them ? Literature has long been known to be a treasure-house of curios; let me show you that these have a relation and or- der. Have you never notieed, for instanee, the expressiom, frequent in our older literature, ** *ods bodykins'* ? I will roar you a full lecture hour upom ** 'ods bodykins.'' You shall see in this poor compound a meacus of Kulturgeschichte linguistic, artistic, ecclesiastical, social. Furthermore, you' should begim researches upom origins and sources, the plot of The Tempest, e.g. What Shakspere did with the plot ? Oh, yes. But leave that to the dilletante; you are to build your house of more solid stuff. ** Why, it hath bay-windows transparemt as barricadoes, amd the clere-stories to the south- morth, are lustrous as ebony ; amd yet complaînest thont of obstructiom?” Eut if his foes are of his own household, the Literary Scholar is wounded also in the house of his friends. There are gultivated gentlemen in plenty and of a serious turn, who drudge at office amd bank and laboratory, to whom . literature is the sweet of seanty leisure. They are of no mind to be robbed of it. ** See,*° they say ; ** you have made a task of what used to be a privilege. The scientists are right; if you. make a discipline of literature, you make a treadmill of it; if you study it as matter of research, you consign your spiritual portion to dictionaries and files, and * man thinking' is just mam counting. Like Macbeth, you have “filed* your mimd for an alien's issue.*' Says Mr. Crothers, that quaint and delieate Ariel, and a Puek for misehief : ** To seek to understand poetry is a vain ambi- tion. The part you fully understand is mot poetry.'' And of course the eorollary is that if we would enjoy poetry, we should waste no pains upom the study of it. We cam only reply who believe that in poetry is the chief of all disci- plines because it is the summit of spiritual endeavors that we **think nobly of the soul and in no way approve his opinion.'' Happily, though he has fallem into bad eompamy and has suffered battery, the Literary Scholar is in a fair way of rescue in spite of the Levites. He has takem refuge, some- what tardily, with the historiam and is mow devoting him- self to tracing literary influences and tendencies. Not that literary history in the more old-fashioned and conventional sense has ever been neglected; e.g., the record of literary periods, the Elizabetham, that of Queen Anne; nor that liter- ary history in the modern or evolutionary sense is wholly a discOvery of our own times. But umtil recently we have beem tOO much concerned with fixing and maintaining standards Of literary taste,—standards too oftem arbitrary, whimsieal, of the passing fashion. And we have not been aware of the Working of literary forces such as gave rise to the pseudo- classic style in the eighteemth century and the romantie 6. revolt from it, or such as have produced gemres like the drama, the novel, the modern lyric. But now to this meW scent harks all the younger ery. Their chief is Brumetière, their method is historieal in the most modern sense. So we have stolem a shaft from Spenger's own quiver. We have shown that literary remains are true documents of the humam spirit and the intimate history of mankind, to trace which is by no meams am amusement for retirèd leisure. And because the matter is of so delicate a web and the pat- tern oftem intricate and elusive, we have come to need more tham ever before men of fine perceptiom, eritical acumen, and the formative mind. Still, to regard books as documents is to estimate them below their real worth. For what is the total value of liter- ature ? It is its umequaled power to integrate the mimd; and to be a literary scholar it is more important to know books and what books are best tham to know how certain books have come to be. Moreover, the literary scholar is an appreciator in the noblest sense; and for his discipline one mode is evem more necessary tham the exercise of eritical judgment. It should be plain, for the formula is trite, though it seems not to be understood, that literature is art. It follows that literary appreciation has two compo- nents: artistie realizatiom, and the appraisal of values; and that without the former the latter is but rooted in barrem soil. Yet we go about our training and research as if literary realization were to be come at indirectly and inci- dentally. And so where our study is not historical or anti- quariam, but in any degree aesthetic, it is a setting up of literary canons and a eriticism by the use of them, and not what it should be—growth in the knowledge that literature is matter of the mind born into form. Sueh growth is the true integration of the literary scholar. This alone cam give amy value, or bearing evem, to literary Criticism. Nay, to foster this growth to its fruitiom is verily to produce ** mam thinking.?” Therefore it is my thesis: that the true ;7 mode of the literary scholar is artistie realizatiom, the true end of his discipline and the right and imclusive object of his researéhes. - II. To come at the subject roundabout, we are all familiar with De Quincey's famous distinction between books of knowledge or instructiom, and books of power, or literature —books in which ** we are made to feel vividly and with a vital consciousness emotions which Ordinary life rarely or never supplies occasiom for exciting.''* Or in more modern terms, literature like the kindred arts has for its object the expression of **emotional ideas''; not in determined proportioms either fixed or in regular variety, intellectiom so much and emotion so much ; not in separable parts of emotiom amd intellection ; but emotion and intellection commingled at the very dawm of the idea in the artist's mind, mingled as the life of conscious being is mingled, truly mingled and mot composite. But let us state the idea, since it is fundamental, in still a third way. **Poetry,” says Mr. George Woodberry, in a flash of in- sight, **is all history could never be.** And it is not illog- ical to add—literature is all experience would attain to. Literature is everywhere a concentration, in some degree, of experience; in its highest it is a sublimatiom. Of course not every concentration of experience into words is litera- ture, yet when experience which is in itself am unclarified content of thoughts, feelings and choices is clarified by means of words and coined into phrases, them literature has its beginnings. To determine, therefore, what is needed im- order to an artistie realizatiom of literature, we must first determine in what degrees this concentration of expe- rience, this eoimage into phrase, takes place. These I be- lieve to be three: (1) the proverbial, (2) the eloquent, amd (3) the imaginative. * Letters to a Young Man. To be sure, these degrees are not historical. Historically literature really begins with the episode or a spam of hu- mam action seem in its entirety from beginning to end. It passes to anecdote and fable and parable, to some moral use, in short, or guide for conduct in happenings real or feigned. And so by one more step in the same series arises imaginative literature, the illusion of reality, of the sup- posed actual, in which the moral is present by inference. Historically literature begins rather with saga than with saw. Yet not, I think, consciously so. Consciously what was Smelted in experience is first minted in phrase by the common mind in the form of adage and maxim. This is eopper eoimage. ** Fair and softly goes far,'' says Saneho Panza, who stands for the rude intellect with its half childish turn for generalizing. So speaks Mrs. Poyser, so Hardy's peasants when they would add a cubit to their mental stature, so the grave digger in Hamlet, and so in topsy-turvy speaks Dogberry. Proverb, it would seem, is thus below the level De Quineey fixes for literature. But though 'tis literary pence, it bears the superscrip- tion of kings: ** A soft answer turneth away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger,'' says the Hebrew wisdom. And Burns: Oh, wad sae power the giftie gie us To see oursels as ithers see us! And Shakspere: To thine owm self be true; And it must follow as the might the day Thou camst not them be false to amy mam. This “wisdom,'* incidental in Shakspere, yet detaehable and quotable, is the least of Shakspere; yet by it he shows kinship with the common mind; and no mam may : deny it to be literature. Still the Shaksperean wisdom is generally set in an imaginative frame; so with exceptions and in its own way is the Goetheam. Proverb, however, has a literature of its 9 owm, both prose and verse, of whieh Baeon and Pope are the great exemplars in English. Now the very heart of proverb, thät by which it concentrates experienee, is pru- dential wisdom. It has a wider compass than prudence, but prudence is its centre, as furnishing am immediate and prae- tical rule for every-day conduct. That is why Baeon's Essays seem umemotional ideas, to read which is as purely an intellectual exercise as anything in literature eam be. Yet the Essays do not lack a very delicate emotiom not to be graduated by scale yet traceable by the measured footing in the exact economies of the style, as certainly as the flinty heat of Pope's mind is traceable in his couplets. Let Bacom speak first : ** He that is only real had need have exceeding great parts of virtue, as the stome had need to be rich that is set without foil. But if a mam mark it well, it is in praise and commendation of men as it is in gettings and gains; for the proverb is true, That light gaims make heavy purses, for light gains come thick, whereas great come but now and then ; so it is true that small matters win great eommenda- tion because they are continually in use and mote, whereas the occasiom of any great virtue cometh but om festivals. Therefore it doth much add to a man's reputatiom, and is (as Queem Isabella said) like perpetual letters commenda- tory to have good forms.''* Bacon is capable of higher matters, yet this represents mot unfairly his proverbial style, founded im prudential wisdom and so of am intellectual sequence, but varied and exquisitely heightened by a severe, an almost unapparent emotion. And Pope's style also is founded in prudential wisdom and every-day philosophy: * * Am honest man's the noblest work of God. ? ? . . . . ** Be mot the first by whom the mew is tried , Nor yet the last to east the old aside.?? * Of Ceremonies and Respects. 10 ** Nothing so true as what you omce let fall, * Most women have mo charaeters at all. ? ? ? . . . . **Ladies like variegated tulips show; 'Tis to their changes half their eharms we owe; Eine by defect amd delicately weak, Their happy spots the mice admirer take; *Twas thus Calypso onee each heart alarmed, Awed without virtue; without beauty charmed.'' Only the emotional heightenimg if not the varying is more apparent in Pope tham in Bacon because his is a mimd more heated, more caustic and virulent, shrewd, even shrewish. So in Pope, the archetype, did adage become didactie poem as in the archetype, Bacon, adage became essay ; and these forms, let the pattern have continuity and trend, are the typical prose concentrations of experience. They are typically prose because their way is to draw inferences from experience, to generalize, amd again, the emotional infusiom is too slight to be registered by any quickening of pulses. Yet prose allows such an intensify- ing, if only the fundamental sequence be one of thought and not of feeling, and if only the feeling be in the right proportion. This kind is the eloquent. Its charac- teristie office is to persuade and its special provinee is ora- tory ; but eloquence overpasses the boundaries of oratory and quite without trespass occupies wide borders in essay and novel amd even in poem and play. Its recognized fune- tiom, I said, is to persuade. Primarily it moves to action, and in orations, and in certaim poems, of which ** Scots wha hae wi Wallace bled** is the example, an immediate action is almost certainly in view. But in a secondary form elo- quence purposes mo definite action ; resultant action is either distant by one or more removes, and so mediated and ob- scure; or the desired action is seem to be impossible and eloquenee becomes pathetie, plaintive with regret. But al- ways some persuasion elings about eloquence even if it in- tends no specifie action. It is in this second form the more diffused and pervasive as a literary energy and takes On 11 the forms of prose or poetry mainly in the measure of emo- tional intemsity. In this guise eloquence is am attaching to general truth or proverb a recognized emotion or fusiom of emotions—let it be joy, sorrow, love, hate, hope, regret— whose presence in a given passage is first known by verse rhythm or prose rhythm, a registered quickening of the literary pulse. Hear the prudent Bacon, his voice lifted by his emotion into lovely eademce: “Why should a mam be im love with his fetters, though of gold ? Art thou drowned in security ? Them I say that thou art perfectly dead. For though thou movest, yet thy soul is buried withim thee, and thy good angel either for- sakes his guard or sleeps. There is nothing under heavem, savimg a true friend (who cammot be counted withim the mumber of moveables), unto which my heart doth leam. And this dear freedom hath begottem in me this peaee, that I mourn not for that end which must be, mor spemd one wish to have one minute added to the uncertain date of my years.*** - Burns is the typical poet in this sort : Them let us pray that come it may, As eome it will for a? that, That sense and worth o'er a? the earth Shall bear the gree, for a? that. Eor a? that and a? that, It's eomim? yet for a? that, That mam to mam the world o°er Shall brothers be, for a? that. Indeed, what marks Burns most surely as a poet of the second rank is that the eloquent, not the imaginative, pre- dominates in his verse. Typieally by eloquenee speak Ar- nold and Clough. So speak Tennyson and Browning, but not at their greatest, not charaeteristically. So at times speak all poets even of the first order, Chaucer perhaps more tham any of his equals. * Of Death, Second Essay. 12 Wel cam the Wyse poete of Floremee That highte Dant, spekem in this sentemce; Lo in swich maner rym is Dante's tale— ** Ful selde upriseth by his branches smale Prowesse of mam; for God of his goodnesse, Wol that of him we clayme our gemtellesse.'* And I know mot in what single verse we shall fimd more of pathetie eloquence, a more movimg ** complaint unto pity,'' tham in this from the Wife of Bath's Prologue: Allas, allas, that ever love was simne. Shakspere and : Milton, though their preference is for the imaginative, are full of persuasive passages and speeial pleadings, and Shakspere as full of eloquence as of proverb. But imaginative writing is as different as possible from the proverbial and the eloquent. We saw how the eloquent differed from the proverbial by excess of emotiom, and that both were grounded in generalization, as if the essence of life were to be got by distillation. The imaginatiom never eoneentrates experienee in this way. Its way is to merge am uncounted multitude of experienees into one experienee. Further, it marks that experience as representative, for every unit of the merged multitude is present in the one experience, without loss but of umprofitable details. Still further is the one experience marked as signifieant, for it contains the gist, the upshot of the entire multitude. Thus imaginative truth, like proverbial truth, is general; but it is a chief glory of the imaginative that it saves the actual and humam in experienee, whereas the proverbial, be it a sermon or system, no matter how eloquent, wastes it, ter- ribly and inevitably. Imaginative concentration is a real eoneentration—it is a synthesis, a sublimation. In this way the imaginative presents us the illusiom of the world as perceived, a world apparently of desires and volitions; yet a World reasoned from cause to consequence, as strictly eonceived as perceived. In a strict sense, it deals with emotional ideas. Intellect completely transfused with * Tale of the Wyf of Bath. 13 emotiom, but never blurred by it; intellect obedient to the impulses of emotion and prompt to its occasions, but never led astray by it, neverthwarted in its view of the beginning and the emd, the compass of the experience—that is the imagination, that is the attitude of mimd creating. It fol- lows that imaginative constructions though based in the pure intellect, spring into air, take shape, at the eall of the emotions; the sequences, the constructive lines are percept- ual and not intellectual. Let me mow exhibit the progress of an idea at first al- most purely intellectual, its change amd final transformation by degrees of emotional infusiom, then of transfusiom and eontrol. Let Baeon speak, again proverbially : “Mem fear death as childrem fear to go into the dark— but the fear of it as a tribute due unto nature is weak.''° This idea has a pure intellectual content mot greatly different from the familiar stanza of Gray : IFor who to dumb forgetfulness a prey This pleasing, anxious being e'er resigned, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor east one longing, lingering look behimd? Truly eloquent, truly persuasive, the abstract idea warmed by a rich emotional infusion, in particular by the image in the last two lines. Indeed, it is this image which finally holds the attention beeause it almost absorbs the idea. So We have the eloquent just upon the point of passing over into the imaginative. But let us hear the great passage which probably lay near the surfaee of Gray's memory when he wrote the lines I have quoted from the Elegy. ** For who,'' pleads Belial, in the great debate in Pande- monium : . . . . For who would lose Though full of pain this intellectual being, Those thoughts that Wander through eternity, To perish rather, swallowed up and lost In the wide Womb of umereated night, Devoid of sense and motiom? * Of Death, First Essay. 14 Truly imaginative, the idea now become image, from which, if the lines be taken by themselves and apart from their argumentative context, persuasiom, special pleading, has all but fallem away. There sweeps a great imagination upom strong, level wings. But let us see the greatest of the great- est mount circle above circle of victorious flight: Isabella: What says my brother? Claudio: Death is a fearful thing. Isabella : Amd shamèd life a hateful. Claudio : Ay, but to die amd go we kmow not where: To lie in gold obstructiom and to rot; This sensible warm motion to beeome A kmeaded clod: and the delighted spirit To bathe im fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling regioms of thick ribbèd ice; To be imprisomed im the viewless Wimds, And blowm with restless violemce round about The pendent world. I close this review with the famous passage from Meas- wre for Measure, the most splendid I know, partly because it shows how the imaginative both includes the proverbia] and transcends the eloquent. But the whole excursus shows what are the constructive processes or sequences of mimd in the making of literature in any of its degrees. I wish to emphasize what scholarship seems careful to neglect, that literature is ultimately not the product of forees his- torical or linguistie, forees that build blindly as a coral reef is builded, without dominant purpose. But literature is the fashioming of the making mind in which the whole was be- fore the parts, the whole of which the parts are but deriva- tives. The supreme task of the Literary Scholar is, there- fore, mot the scientifie investigation of the parts, but the artistic realization of the whole. And I say again that artistic realization is the true emd of literary discipline and the right and inclusive object of literary research. 15 III. What, them, is literary realization ; what discipline does it imply ; what special knowledge and what synthesis of knowledge does it command; and finally, what importance has it for mam thinking? To realize literature is, in the first place, to see it **in its habit as it lived'' in the maker's mimd, to trace pari passw with the maker the constructive process—the lines of sequence and the proportions. In essay and argument, as we saw, the type of concentration is abstract; the sequence is therefore intellectual, and so must the realization of that sequence be an intellectual process. Not so the realization of proportions. This is more oftem emotional, the perception of the maker's personality in circumambient flame about the bare idea, heightening or restraiming its appeal, lending to the bare idea its distinetive worth. In epie, drama, and novél, in lyrie poem, the type of eoneentration is imagina- tive, and the realizatiom both of sequence and of proportiom is perceptive; or, stated more liberally, imaginative, since in this form the idea becomes clearer to the understanding as it grows more and more apparent to the perceptions. But there is no way to understand play, poem, or novel but to perceive it as a cumulative series in place and time building the maker's conceptiom, a series fashiomed of happenings and images and varied by proportiomate quantities of these even more tham by the infused emotion of the writer. In this way poetry may be understood, fully understood (pace Mr. Crothers), but poetic meaming may never be ade- quately stated in abstract because poetic structure, par eac- cellence, is imaginative structure and sequence. Nay, the poetie idea of which the poetic structure is derived, that, too, is imaginative and so cannot in the proverbial way be generalized. How the conceptiom lay in the maker's mind is seem in what mold he cast it. Implicit at least in literary realization is the appraisal 16 of value both technical and moral, the eonformity to canon and decalogue; literary judgment arises spontameously in the mind along with literary perception and understanding, is a part, indeed, of literary understanding. Now in this we have erred,—that we have preoccupied our minds too exclusively with rules of art and of eonduct, forgetful that rules of art, amd in a measure of eonduct too, suffer repeated revisiom with the accumulating experiemce of mamkind. If **the tem commandments do mot budge,'' the three unities, at least, have all but moved off the ground ; and whether im technique or in conduct the presumptiom is that the artist by so mueh as he is am artist, and not merely a eraftsmam, has something new to say. Be sure that we shall mot come at his message by definitions, but by following the lines of his construction. Judgment shall command learming and the higher categories, as in Coleridge and Lessing, but it shall wait upon realization as in Sainte Beuve. So we eannot altogether separate realization of form from judgment of worth, since judgment of worth concerns the thing to be realized and the realization itself. To state it at last in firm definition, the realization of literature is the perception of form as the revelation of meaning: The meaming is revealed mot through the form, but ίη the form; the meaming informns. Otherwise literature is mot literature, but dexterity and technique, amd evem as technique is but shadowy and shifting: one builds of stone and girder, not of vapor. No, the meaming of the book is the motif of the book, the moving and efficient cause of it. By force of this the Writer lays hold upom experiemce, concentrates it and fashions it to the mold of his mimd, in the way of his gifts, his preferenees and habits, and aecording to the prevailing modes of his time and country. But always he does con- centrate experience amd fashion his concentration, really creates it a living meaming with members, features amd mo- tions. How, them, may we come to know it or to judge it but as fashioned and artieulate? 17 Such is the artistie value of literature, not its technical value, mor, again, its abstraet value; for the meaning or moral of any book is the significance of life to the artist at the creative moment. We demand that the significance shall be mormal, shall eonform to eanon and deealogue, and we eall the art great as it is significant of great ideas, but always we test the significamce not as cold abstract but as realized im art. That is why it oftem happens that a book whose moral hypothesis is relatively low rises to a moral issue relatively high. Thus Tam. O 'Shanter and The Jolly Beggars, eæ©ewlywkwlweldwg-) are better poetry tham ** For a* that amd a? that**; they are more powerful concentrations of experience, they have a more abundant and various emergy, their reach is farther; in a word, they are more greatly realized. Now the power to know litera- ture after this way is meither the power to abstract litera- ture, mor skill in the eunning of technique; but it is the power to perceive literature in its form as a meaming re- vealed, as experience significant to the artist at the creative moment; it is artistie realizatiom. If, them, the sequences of mimd, the constructive pro- cesses, of Writer and of reader are exactly similar, I say that the ehief discipline of a Literary Scholar is artistie discipline. And by artistie discipline I meam, first of all, literary training both in original and in critical Writing. The Literary Scholar is in his degree a mam of letters. His mind seeks always to express itself either imaginatively or by what I have defined as the proverbial and eloquent. To him the first prompting of literary knowledge is always a sort of literary activity or reactivity. How shall he wim to know literature as it is, I meam as concentrated experience, if he have neither wit mor art to concentrate his own expe- rience? Books, it is a solemn truth, have no value for us but as related to our own experience, and he relates them best who knows how to value his oWm experience at the summit of its possibilities; and who but the artist knows this? Still TN 18 the Literary Scholar is not always ereative, not certaim to express himself im poem or appreciative essay ; but at the lowest he is re-creative. As he reads he builds again the Dîvîne Comedy, Hamlet, Paradise Lost, rearing the arches upom lines the master builders laid, and thus he builds Dante and Shakspere and Milton into his mind. By in- stinet and by habit his characteristie effort is synthetie and artistic ; and such should be his discipline. He is to be taught to make the most of what literary faculty he pos- sesses; he isto be taught to view literature not as documents, not as forms, not assphilosophies,-but-as structures of the shaping mind. But he has Other and tributary disciplimes, he com- mands other knowledge tham artistie knowledge. For to know Hamlet from its centre to its limits is to know Shak- spere's imaginative bent, his distinctive way of concen- tratimg experiemce ; it is also to know all that fed his poetic emergies; it is to know all contemporary influence, the intellectual and social mîlîew; it is to know all history of mem, of thought and of art and of language that fell withim his scope, as well as that forgottem history that stirred in him as instinct; it is to know, in sum, all that Shakspere's mimd subdued; yes, it is even to know ** 'ods bodykins.'' But see how we blunder when we make this sort of knowledge not tributary but primary, when we set as the great task and test of a scholar that he shall know Shakspeream bricks and mortar, stresses and strains, and mot Shakspere the artificer of cloud-eapped towers and gorgeous palaces. Yet, thus it is that literature resolves all knowledges, subdues them as gross materials to the structures of the mind; all knowledges and all experiences it renders subject and subservient to its revelations. Revelation ! The imag- ination alone is truly apocalyptie, and to convince the imagination truly and profoundly is the great achievement. Let be the ** argument about it and about''; save by elo- 4 quemce it lends meither impulse nor effective guidamce to Gonduct. We aet, we must aet, in •eeewdewesmwię oup^ imaginative grasp of the world—we hope and fear, „®;. lieve and love by the imaginatiom, and we will to attaim mainly im the degree that imagination lifts into view the objects of our desires. Thus does literature liberate the mam from the clay, that it sets his imagination free, gives it poise and ramge; thus in the supreme sense is the Literary Scholar ** mam thinking.” 19 μ}*^ l 'o [Preprinted from the School Review, November, I9o8, and distributed as the October leaflet of the New England Association of Teachers of English.] NEW ENGLAND ASSOCIATION OF TEACHERS OF ENGLISH REPORT OF THE STANDING COMMITTEE ON ENTRANCE REQUIREMENTS PROFESSOR H. G. PEARSON, M.I.T., Chaîrmam MARTHA T. BENNETT, Dana Hall, Wellesley ANDREW H. WARD, Milton Academy Committee HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE JOINT OR NATIONAL CONFERENCE ON ENTRANCE REQUIREMENTS IN ENGLISHI, WITH ESPECIAL REFERENCE TO THE CONFERENCE OF I9o8 Any fair-minded teacher who has considered at all carefully the development of the study of English in the past twenty years must admit at the outset of any discussion that our present troubles, however difficult to meet, are far less complicated than those overcome. The distracting conditions incident to a lack of uniformity in college entrance requirements, conditions which seriously hampered effective class work in secondary schools, have been greatly improved by the establishment of a uniform entrance requirement. Moreover, the uncertainty attending the varying interpretation of this uniform requirement by the eX2l1I1- iners of individual colleges has been practically obviated by the establishment of the College Entrance Examination Board. By these means much of the lack of definition which formerly made our teaching difficult has been remedied. For these improved conditions, thanks are due principally to three agencies: the New England Commission of Colleges on Entrance Requirements, the National Education Association, and the Association of Colleges and Preparatory Schools of the Middle States and Maryland. In 1888 the New England Com- mission of Colleges, in its work of establishing some degree of I 2 NEW ENGLAND ASSOCIATION OF TEACHERS OF ENGLISH uniformity in entrance requirements, set a list of books for read- ing as the preparation for the examination in English. In going about this work, the commission used the method of investigation since employed in every important handling of entrance require- ments—the now familiar “conference'' made up of representa- tives from colleges and preparatory schools. The plan finally adopted in I892 by the National Education Association, after wide discussion of the whole confused subject of entrance requirements, was based upon this New England plan. This association appointed the now memorable Committee of Ten, to which it gave power to call conferences of persons whose position and reputation entitled them to be called experts in some one study in the preparatory schools, every section, interest, and school of thought to be represented. It was this method of inquiry which gave lasting value to the work of the committee. • The Conference on English met at Vassar College in De- cember, I892, and organized with Mr. Samuel Thurber as chair- man, and Professor George L. Kittredge as secretary. Upon the principles laid down in the report of this conference have been based practically all subsequent efforts to systematize and unify work in English. Yet as we study the wise and far-reaching suggestions there embodied, the high standards erected, and con- trast them with the results attained after fifteen years of con- scientious effort to live up to these ideals, we wonder whether, by emphasizing tOO much certain suggestions, we have not blurred the intention of the whole. The conference, in deliver- ing its report, must have wished to add, in self-defense, the words of Captain Cuttle: “The bearings of these remarks lies in the applications of 'em.” It may be worth while, at the outset of an effort to see clearly present conditions, to summarize at length the conclusions embodied in the report before passing to our “applications” of them.* * The order of this summary does not accord with that of the report ; separated suggestions have been brought together, and the language is only in part that of the original. Nevertheless, it is believed that the changes made in arrangement and phrasing in no way misrepresent the position of the conference. STANDING COMMITTEE ON ENTRANCE REQUIREMENTS 3 The main objects of the teaching of English in schools seem to be two: (I) to enable the pupil to understand the expressed thoughts of others and to give expression to thoughts of his own; (2) to cultivate a taste for reading, to give the pupil some acquaintance with good literature, and to furnish him with the means of extending that acquaintance. In composition work the pupil should from the earliest years be encouraged to furnish his own material, expressing his own thoughts in a natural way, the exercises to be practical rather than technical. As early as possible material for narration and description should be suggested by the pupil's observation or personal experience. Throughout the school course composi- tion should be taught by unremitting practice accompanied by careful and appropriate criticism. Every thought which the pupil expresses, whether orally or on paper, should be regarded as a proper subject for criticism as to language. Thus every lesson in geography or mathematics may and should become a part of the pupil's training in English. There can be no more appropriate moment for a brief lesson in expression than the moment when the pupil has something which he is trying to ex- press. Grammar and rhetoric should both be taught, but in the main incidentally and in close relation with the work of the pupil himself and the works he reads. Formal grammar should not be taught before the thirteenth year of the pupil's life; the main principles should then be laid down in a year's course of three hours a week. Formal rhetoric should be presented in a one-year elementary course in the third year of the high school, but the work done beforehand in composition should have been such as to make such a course a codification of principles already supplied in practice. Especial care should be taken that rhetoric is not studied by itself and for itself. The conference “does not contemplate an examination in formal rhetoric for admission to college.” In the high-school work in literature the pupil should read certain masterpieces not fewer in number than the list set by the New England Commission; such books each to represent so far as possible some period, tendency, or type of literature, the whole 4 NEW ENGLAND ASSOCIATION OF TEACHERS OF ENGLISH number to represent with as few gaps as possible the course of English literature from the Elizabethan to the present day; of these a considerable number to be of a kind to be read by the student cursorily and by himself; a limited number may be read in the classroom under the direction of the teacher. Parallel and subsidiary reading is to be encouraged, and the investigation of pertinent questions in literary history and criticism. Frequent tests should be given upon the books read alone and upon the parallel reading and the investigation above mentioned, the objects being threefold: (I) to bring out the pupil's knowledge; (2) to test his ability to methodize his knowledge; (3) to test his ability to write clearly and concisely. The conference “doubts the wisdom of requiring for admission to colleges set essays (e. g., on the books prescribed)—essays the chief purpose of which is to test the pupil's ability to write English. It believes there are serious theoretical and practical objections to estimat- ing a student's power to write a language On the basis of a theme composed not for the sake of expounding something that he knows or thinks, but merely for the sake of showing his ability to write.” The alternative suggested is questions upon subsidiary reading in literary history or upon definite passages taken from the books read. History of English literature is to be taught incidentally ; mechanical use of manuals of literature is to be avoided. In the fourth year of the high school an attempt may be made to give the pupil a view of our literature as a whole, but this instruction should accompany a chronologically arranged se- quence of authors. The history of the English language cannOt perhaps at present (I893) be taught extensively in the high schools, but the conference recommends (I) a study of the history and geography of the English race so far as these illustrate the development of the language; (2) phonetics, tO give a clear idea of the general causes giving English the peculiar value of its vowel symbols; (3) word-composition; (4) elements of English vocabulary to illustrate the political, social, intellectual, and religious development of the race; (5) changes in the meaning of words, to be taught incidentally. STANDING COMMITTEE ON ENTRANCE REQUIREMENTS 5 The high School may deal with dialects and literary language and with decay of inflections. , Perhaps, to emphasize the wisdom of the conference it would have been well to put the last group of recommendations in a less conspicuous position. To those of us who have wrestled with the problem of imparting knowledge of the most rudi- mentary kind to the average high-school pupil, the ideal suggested in the above list makes us long for the official recognition of what Lord Acton calls, “a rational possible end, limited by many antagonistic claims, and confined to what is reasonable, practi- cable, and just.” Yet it is surely clear that the intention visible everywhere in the report is that teaching should not be divorced from common-sense, that the teacher should be the judge of what is possible under existing conditions. One may add, more- over, that branches called by even such high-sounding names may be bent down by a helpful hand until even a very small person may gather the fruit. • It was clearly intended that the pupil should learn to read books primarily because a reading habit is a pleasant and profit- able thing. This fact is apparent in spite of the suggestion not summarized, that references should be traced and difficult pass- ages understood. It was as evidently intended that composition .should be a natural expression of the pupil's thought, not a rehash of the books read. It was nowhere assumed or set down that examinations should be confined to a printed list of books, or that proficiency to express himself on the subject-matter of these books should be the test of the pupil's skill in composition. It is a consideration of these things which leads one to wonder whether in a search for a “rational possible end,” certain sug- gestions of the committee have not been overemphasized, with a result quite different from that which was designed. Such were the principles laid down by the report of the Vassar Conference of the Committee of Ten; it remained for sOme agency to put these ideals into operation, or, at least, to make choice among them, to hit upon some plan which should offer a definite working basis for uniformity. Such action was taken in I893 by the Association of the Colleges and Preparatory 6 NEW ENGLAND ASSOCIATION OF TEACHERS OF. ENGLISH Schools of the Middle States and Maryland, the third agency to which teachers of English are indebted. This association, at the suggestion of President Seth Low, appointed a committee to investigate the question of uniform entrance requirements in English. This committee, composed of five college and five preparatory school representatives, met in New York in Febru- ary, 1894, and sent out circulars of inquiry to about one hundred colleges and four hundred preparatory schools in New England and the middle states. The answers brought out the facts that the schools demanded a substantially uniform standard, and declared that, whatever course the middle states adopted, it must at least not conflict with the procedure in New England. As a result of the desire for co-operation with New England, the first joint conference on entrance requirements in English, which met in Philadelphia in May, I894, was composed of the committee of the Middle States Association, of delegates from the New England Commission of Colleges (Professor Win- chester, Professor Cook, and Deam Briggs), and of delegates from the New England Association of Colleges and Preparatory Schools (Mr. Tetlow and Mr. Collar). This Conference of I894 and the succeeding Conference of I895 prepared the way for the adoption of the uniform requirements which, with slight varia- tions, have since been retained. The action taken, which was based on the suggestions of the Vassar Conference of the Com- mittee of Ten, was conservative, practical, and definite. The list of books required by the New England Commission of Colleges was adopted, but the books were arranged in two groups, one for reading, one for study and practice. In accordance with the demand of the schools for a stable requirement, the list was fixed for three years. Rhetoric was pronounced “useful, but too hard and inflexible for a good examination test;'' correction of “bad English,” it was voted, should be excluded from the examinations. - It will be noted that the work of this conference and of suc- ceeding conferences is based upon one assumption, the use of a fixed list of English masterpieces as a basis of the work in literature and composition. No matter what the changes in the STANDING COMMITTEE ON EN TRANCE REQUIREMENTS 7 makeup of the conferences, no matter how diverse, in the course of years, were the interests represented, this assumption remained the same. It dominated the entire treatment of the study of English and brought forth a distinct method both of study and of examination. This method possessed conveniences that for some years showed as real advantages. The merits of system, of a fixed quantity of work, of a task which, in one aspect, at least, was perfectly definite,- the advantages of giving a student a first- hand acquaintance with literature, of a clearly recognized bOdy of subjects for theme work, of convenient texts to work with— all these were apparent at the first. Nevertheless, as the years went on and divergent interests were represented in the con- ferences, the difficulties of adjustment under the system became onerous. In I895 a third section of the country was represented by a delegate from the Conference of the Teachers of English of the north-centra1 states; in I897 delegates from the Associa- tion of Colleges and Preparatory Schools in the southern states were admitted. The conference at that time consisted of the delegates from the middle states and Maryland, from the South- ern Association of Schools and Colleges, from the North Central Association of Teachers of English, and of delegates from two New England bodies—the New England Association of Colleges and Preparatory Schools, and the New England Commission of Colleges on Entrance Examinations. This constit- uency maintained itself in all the conferences up to I905, except that in I9O2 the delegates from the north-central section were sent by the recently formed Association of Colleges and Preparatory Schools. In all the conferences up to I9o5 action was directed mainly toward clearer definition of requirements and careful revision of the lists for required reading. Even a casual glance through the list from I895 to I9o5 will show how steadily the sorting-out process went om, and will suggest how consistently the objections of teachers resulted in the dropping of certain books. In looking back Over these years, one sees clearly the value of these conferences. The unifying force, the responsibility voluntarily assumed by the men who composed them, the high character of the delegates, the dignity of the interests represented 8 NEW ENGLAND ASSOCIATION OF TEACHERS OF ENGLISH —all these things make of great importance this movement started by the foresight and energy of the Association of Col- leges and Preparatory Schools of the Middle States and Mary- land. In a time of confusion and inaction this association acted, and acted with promptness and high intelligence, an intelligence in nothing more conspicuously shown than in securing the co- operation of other bodies important in the educational interests of the country. « In I9o5, however, the conference lost something of its rep- resentative character by the absence of the delegates from the New England Commission on Entrance Examinations, this com- mission having, since the successful organization of the College Entrance Examination Board, suspended its work. The repre- sentatives from the Commission of Colleges had from the first been a constituent part of the conferences and had brought to the movement the high dignity of the colleges represented by them. It was this Conference of I9o5 that adopted the elastic “open list” of forty books for reading in place of the definite ten of the former requirements. This change and the resulting action in New England merely emphasize the difficulties of reconciling the conflicting interests heretofore represented. Those parts of the country where examinations were of little importance had raised a cry of relief from the restricted list of books; it was they who had asked for an “open'' list that should provide a greater range of books for the jaded teacher to choose from. The examining colleges, on the other hand, had found that the system had a deadly effect on the training in composition, and on the ability of students to understand and appreciate litera- ture. In their judgment the “open list'' merely increased the difficulties of examination without in any way remedying the fundamental objection. This change, then, made in I9o5, to satisfy the demands of the non-examining constituency, made the discontent of the other constituency still more active, especially since the important examining interests had had no part in bring- ing about the change. t The dissatisfaction that was felt in this part of the country at the modifications made by the National Conference of I9o5 soon STANDING COMMITTEE ON EN TRANCE REQUIREMENTS 9 took form in the organization of a Conference of the New Eng- land Colleges on Entrance Requirements in English. This body was the legitimate successor of the Commission of New England Colleges on Entrance Examinations, which had suspended its activities, and it represented as authoritatively the interests of the examining colleges. The immediate result of this action was that most of the colleges made important modifications in the list presented by the National Conference of I9o5, and the long-desired uniformity became, as far as New England was concerned, a thing of the past. This body prepared recommenda- tions of a radical character to be presented to the Conference of I9o8, the general tenor of which was that less emphasis should be put on minute study of texts and more emphasis on composition. Further evidence of dissatisfaction was given by the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, which threw over altogether the list of books and adopted a requirement of work in composition on non-literary subjects, with “sight questions'' to test a student's power of understanding and appreciating literature. The final expression of the desire of New England that its peculiar needs have more effective representation in the National Conference was the action of the New England Asso- ciation of Teachers of English, which appointed delegates to go to New York at the time of the meeting of the Conference of I9o8, and to make application for membership on behalf of this association. The presence at this Conference of I9o8, which was held in New York on February 2I and 22, of delegates from these two new bodies from New England, in addition to the regular dele- gates from the New England Association of Colleges and Prep- aratory Schools, and the application for membership made by these two bodies brought out strikingly the peculiarities of organization that have been inherent in the Joint or National Conference from the beginning. It is a voluntary association composed of delegates from associations which are themselves voluntary, and which, moreover, concern themselves with English only as it is one of many matters that come under their care. It has therefore no constitution, no permanent officers or organi- IO NEW ENGLAND ASSOCIATION OF TEACHERS OF ENGLISH zation, and no authority. The result of its deliberations is expressed in a vote that a certain requirement “be recommended to the constituent bodies for adoption.” This is the extent of its power. So long, however, as the New England colleges were represented on the conference through delegates from their Commission on Entrance Examinations, they accepted its report at once, and confirmed its action as substantially their require- ment. Naturally, therefore, in this part of the country, if not elsewhere, the action of the conference had weight. The Organization representing the New England colleges at New York last February was, as has just been noted, to al1 intents and purposes the legitimate successor of the Commission of Colleges on Entrance Examinations; yet it had to appear as an outsider, and to ask for admission as if the institutions that it represented had never had any standing in the conference. After consider- able discussion the delegates representing the New England colleges were admitted—or re-admitted. As for the delegates from the New England Association of Teachers of English, they were invited to take part in the deliberations, but were not given the right to vote. (It is hardly necessary to add that your delegates were made heartily welcome and treated with the utmost courtesy.) These instances are cited to show that owing to the intermittent organization which the conference maintains, its composition when it meets must be more or less subject to temporary questions of expediency. It is true that, with three delegations from New England on its hands, the Conference of I9o8 had had a perplexing problem to deal with. That, however, is not the point. The significant thing is that, in such circum- stances it had absolutely no guidance from established and recognized principles. By way of making a good end to this aspect of the conference, let it be noted that at this meeting the necessary preliminary steps were taken for remedying this un- certain condition of affairs. From the beginning of the sessions of this conference, it was manifest that a desire for change was in the air. The individual members in their daily experience as teachers had already been brought face to face with the fact that the system was not work- STANDING COMMITTEE ON ENTRANCE REQUIREMENTS I I ing itself out in the way designed by its initiators, and they believed that the time had come to make a new statement as to what constitute the fundamentals in the study and teaching of English. It very naturally came to pass, therefore, that an agreement was made to fix a list of books for only one year (I9I2), to adjourn for a year, and to appoint a committee of five which should investigate the whole question of the entrance requirement in English and report to the individual members of the conference before the adjourned meeting. This action, it is hardly necessary to say, is of the greatest possible importance. Of this committee of five Professor Cross of Yale is chairman. With regard to the list of books selected for I9I2, the only points worth noting are that the number of books to be read is reduced from ten to nine, and that three of the Idylls of the King are introduced as a welcome alternative to the group of Milton's shorter poems in the list of books for study and practice. Also, from this group “Lycidas” is omitted. This, however, is merely a record of the votes passed. The value of the meetings was in the frank expression of opinion from men in different parts of the country as to the present condi- tion of things. The belief that the time had come when the con- ference might propose to its constituent bodies a step greatly in advance of its former action was put with most weight by Professor Scott of the University of Michigan. Thanks to his initiative, the conference discussed with entire candor two propo- sitions—the complete separation of literature and composition, the framing of a requirement in literature which should do away with a fixed list of books. The purpose of the discussion was not so much to reach a result as to indicate the line which the investigatións of its committee might profitably take. In other words, from the work of this committee the conference should be able to decide whether the time has come when the old assump- tion of a list of required books may be dropped and a new requirement worked out based on the principle that composition and literature are distinct things, and that in the study of litera- ture the storing up for examination purposes of information concerning certain books should be minimized, if not altogether I2 NEW ENGLAND ASSOCIATION OF TEACHERS OF ENGLISH - done away with. In the opinion of one of your delegates, the informal views of the members of the conference were favorable to some such a new basis. Further than this they did not commit themselves; it was necessary first to know that such a basis is practical and that it will commend itself as logical and necessary to the teachers of English throughout the country. That infor- mation it is the work of the committee of the conference to , supply. The significant thing about the National Conference of I9o8, then, is this. It has opened the door for change, and has appealed. to the country to find out whether change is desirable, and if so, what change is desirable. Our New England Association of Teachers of English represents a body of opinion characteristic of a community that lives—for better or for worse—under the examination system. Any expression of opinion which those here present may give today will be of value to that committee and to the conference. Here wisdom will be heard and heeded, and it need not cry aloud. One point remains to be made. Any new scheme that may be adopted must be, like the old scheme, a working agreement that will satisfy the two diverse interests that are represented in the conference. If, however, the new agreement is not to share the fate of the old, it must have some Other justification than that of being principally a convenient method of securing uniformity. To endure, it must be grounded on solid educational principles. Whatever merits the old system had as a suggested course of reading, those advantages were largely lost in this part of the country because the examining colleges found it difficult to adjust to their examination system. We all realized the unsatisfactory condition of things, and uttered protests whenever opportunity offered. The guidance given by the Vassar Conference of the Committee of Ten had proved inadequate to our needs, and had been 1ost sight of. We were in deep woods, bewildered by the crisscrossing of individual blazed trails. Under such circum- stances progress was nearly impossible. Here at last, however, is the opportunity for re-orientation. It is our own fault if we do not make the most of it. What we teachers in school and STANDING COMMITTEE ON ENTRANCE REQUIREMENTS 13 college, working together, must now do is to frame a new state- ment of the ideals that should be the basis of preparatory work in English. Such a statement should be inclusive enough to serve as a standard to the men who set examination papers, to the men who edit texts, to the men who fix courses of study, and to all of us in our daily work in the classroom. It should serve as a standard but it should not go so far as to concern itself with details. If some such statement of ideals can be made, it will mean that the colleges, On the one hand, are willing to give up some points on which hitherto they have insisted; and that the Schools, on the Other hand, accept the responsibilities of a higher standard of work. With a common understanding as to what things are fundamental, the delegates representing New England colleges and schools can, at the meeting of the conference next year, stand unitedly for a requirement that, besides being prac- tical, squares with what is sound in principle. Plainly, within the next twelvemonth there is much work to be done. Setting aside such important questions as what consti- tutes a fair examination paper and what constitutes a good edition of a text—and as regards both examination papers and annotated texts of the last fifteen years perhaps the safest word of characterization is the epithet experimental—setting these aside, we find ourselves called to the large task of formulating our ideals with a view to action. To take part in such work is in accord with the traditions of the New England Association of Teachers of English. Your Executive Committee, therefore, proposes that one of its standing committees take up a single aspect of the large question, and report to you on it next Novem- ber. As the Standing Committee of last year indicated in its report, it is obviously inexpedient for this association, a body with no official effective authority, to plan a course of study for either elementary or secondary schools. Work of that sort has already been undertaken in many places by the proper bodies. It has appeared, however, that we might do what no such body with a special task before it is required to do—that is to say, frame a general statement of the principles on which any second- ary course of study should be based. By so doing, we should be I4 NEW ENGLAND ASSOCIATION OF TEACHERS OF ENGLISH performing that part in the larger task for which we are especially suited. Such a report from the association will be a fitting contribution to the work that must be done, if the conference that meets in I9O9 is to act wisely and well. The New England Association of Teachers of English was formed February 23, I9oI, to advance the study and the teaching of the English language and literature. Membership is open to persons living in New England, who are teachers of English in schools or colleges; principals of elementary, secondary, or normal schools ; superintendents or supervisors of schools ; or presidents or deans of colleges or scientific schools. Applicants for membership from outside New England, and applicants from New England not teachers of English, duly approved, may be elected associate members with all the privileges of active members except the right to vote. Applications for membership, endorsed by a member of the Association, may be submitted in writing to the Secretary, and will be acted upon by the Executive Committee at the meeting following the receipt of the appli- cation. Application may be made on the back of the envelope containing the annual fee of one dollar, due at the annual meeting, the third Saturday in March. Envelopes are provided by the Secretary or the Treasurer. Monthly leaflets (except in July, August, and September) are sent to members. Back numbers and extra copies of the leaflets may be obtained toy members of the Secretary, at five cents each ; reprints and double num- bers, ten cents. ExECUTIVE COMMITTEE I907—8 Professor H. G. Pearson, Massachusetts Institute of Technology—President Professor J. A. Tufts, Phillips Exeter Academy—Vice-President George H. Browne, The Brown & Nichols School, Cambridge, Mass.— - Secretary - Samuel Thurber, Jr., Newton High School, Newtonville, Mass.—Treasurer Miss Ella Sweeny, Assistant Superintendent of Schools, Providence, R. I. Mr. F. W. C. Hersey, Instructor in English, Harvard College. Miss Josephine Hammond, High School of Practical Arts, Dorchester, Mass. Mr. Oscar Gallagher, High Schoo1 of Commerce, Boston. The next meeting of the association will be at Springfield, Mass., Saturday, November I4. The general topic will be: “Co-ordination and Co-operation in English': PROFESSOR JoHN HAYs GARDINER, Harvard; Mr. CHARLES SWAIN THOMAs, Newton High School ; MR. ALBERT CANDLIN, Principa1 Chestnut St. School, Springfield. Luncheon—REV. SAMUEL M. CROTTERS, D.D. (“The Gentle Reader''), Cambridge. ¿?** * *$ $.;*&t:**, ** * x - gº... * * * ** ******* * * · · · · · · -? sae ,,.:-****~~~~ ~~\~~~~);---fº-* -- - - - - - ---------· ,- . ::- - - - - -- - - ------ - ſae &aegaer,*,aeae??? *ſ*:(.*)*' && ș*țț¢ £ șğ**ëſ ºrº * * * ģº...ºf******! !!” “† && șý)*?*;3.Țºz?(, ; ** {+ * * & * * * * * *șT* * · ***wę 4*-•x••••• • • ~ ,: ~~ și---►&&aº ×.**.*!- ș--~~~~, * A % a* .* r* / [Reprinted from the Graduate Magazine of the University of Kansas, Volume VI, Number 4, January, 1908.] GOETHE AND SELF-CULTURE* T was with a deep sense of pleasure that I accepted the invitation to address this year your chapter of the Phi Beta Kappa Society. For the first and most fruitful year of my teaching was spent in the University of Kansas. Here I was introduced to the difficult and complex problems of the life of a state university. Here I received through the kind- ness and sympathy of my colleagues, and the forbearance of my students, my strongest encouragement to persist in the career of a teacher. I sha11 therefore always feel bound to the University of Kansas by ties of sincerest gratitude and by feelings of deepest appreciation for the solidity and dignity of its work and its ideals. While reflecting upon a suitable subject for my address it occurred to me that few men in recent times realized so fully in their life and work the idea1 of the Phi Beta Kappa Society as the greatest of German poets, Goethe. Of him it may in truth be said that philosophy, in the broadest sense of the term, in the sense in which the founders of the Phi Beta Kappa Society used the word, was the guide of his life. Therefore I decided to choose as the theme of my address this evening the central principle of Goethe's practical philosophy, the principle which this society has always *Address delivered before the Phi Beta Kappa Society of the University of Kansas, June 3, 19o7, by Max Winklér, Ph. D., Professor of the German Lànguage and Literature, University of Michigam. represented and which, I believe, is of the greatest concern to us al1: the principle of self-culture in Goethe's life and thought and its application to our present conditions. The trend of modern education is unfavorable to a large comprehensive culture. The enormous extension of the modern field of knowledge, the severe demands made upon scholarship in every domain of thought, the refinement and accuracy of the new methods of research have made early specialization seem to many a necessity. The modern de- mands of professional and business 1ife are equally high and exacting, and require a long period of careful training. In view of these conditions, the education now most favored is one which wi11 prepare a man as directly as possible for some useful and profitable ca11ing. It is distinctly felt today that only by the most strenuouis application to one line of work, . chosen early in life, can a man of earnest endeavor hope to attain that high degree of efficiency which is required for success. In a period 1ike ours when the principle of specialization is so clearly understood and so consistently applied to every province of our inte11ectual, professional, and industria1 1ife, when in our desire to achieve excel1ence in our chosen occupation we are in danger of neglecting or ignoring the cultivation of the fundamental faculties of our lbeing, it is stimulating and helpful to turn our attention to Goethe, who in an eminent degree succeeded in combining the largest culture with the highest efficiency in the many practica1 activities of his 1ife. Although he lived in an age when the conflict of culture and specialization had not yet assumed its present acute form, he clearly understood and appreciated the problem in its many bearings, grappled with it, solved it for himself, and expressed in unequivocal terms fnis solution for the guidance of coming generations. - Goethe, the man, is in the judgment of many more remark- able than any of his most finished creations. Among his many noteworthy achievements none is more characteristic than his determination and power to develop the many forces of his nature and organize them to nob1e artistic proportions. He was keemly alive and delicately sensitive to every touch of httman sympathy, and it was this quick and ready sensi- bility of his that formed the most important factor in the development of his character. It was a sensibility not only on the emotiona1 side, expanding into loves and friendships of the most rich and varied kind, but also on the intellectual side, stretching forth feelers in eyery direction of human in- quiry. His was a nature to learn from everybody and be touched by everything. He had great zest to live and to en- joy, and put forth 1oving arms in a11 directions to live large- ly. His many-sided spiritua1 receptiveness repeatedly attracted him to men of the most varied characters, men whose whole trend of thought seemed opposed to his own, who, however, oftentimes stimulated and awakened some latent forces of his nature. This large capacity for com- panionship and friendship and this wi1ling and grateful recognition of everything good and genuine in his fellow beings distinguished him throughout life, and made him, as he advanced in years, the natural center toward which the best intellects and the moblest characters in Germany and in Europe gravitated. Superficia1 critics have often accused Goethe of cold pride, self-sufficiency, and lack of sympathy. A careful study of Goethe's life wi11 convince you that all such accusations are baseless. The vitality and practical wisdom of his teachings are derived from close human relationships and 1arge-hearted experience. The adverse judgments upon his character and aims you will find especial- ly among the older and inadequately informed biographers who were offended at his unwillingness to take part in any of the heated controversies of his time. The fact is that his temperament and menta1 constitution made it impossible for him to become a blind partisan of any religious, philosophical, social or political creed. His philosophy is preeminently practical and lays no claims to systematic completeness. In fact al1 systems of philosophy seemed to him meager, inadequate, andunsatisfactory in view of life's great mystery. However, he always showed a broad tolerance toward the thought of others; but rather than sur- render himself to any system of thought, he continued throughout life to study with clear vision reality and derive principles of practical wisdom from his 1arge storehouse of personal observation and knowledge. He 1ived broad1y and intensely, and tried to grasp and give expression to the meaning of his experience. The convincing character of his poetry is due to the fact that it is basedupon fresh and deep- 1y felt experience. Poetry is to him but the highest form of self-expression. He is a man of the most delicate sensibili- ties, the whole wide range of human experience affects him, hut he firmly rejects everything which is foreign to his nature, to his manner of thinking and feeling, everything, in short, which he cannot use. As a poet and thinker he shows the highest integrity, strictly refusing to yield to any fashion of the hour, and expressing nothing which does not represent his innermost conviction. He is a foe of a11 affectation, vagueness, and indecision, and in comparing his countrymen with the English, he admires the 1atter express1y because they know their own minds. He is ever ready to study and analyze the thoughts and opinions of others, but he can never lblindly fo11ow any authority, however revered. And so, a1though his ideas show traces of manifold influence, they everywhere bear the stamp of an independent and original personality. His philosophical and religious interests were most compre- hensive. He read the skeptics and the mystics, he studied P1ato, Leibnitz, Kant and especia11y Spinoza, but it is con- trary to the spirit of his life and character to claim that he accepted the system of any one thinker. It is true that as a student of Nature he derived more inspiration and help from Spinoza than from any other philosopher, but it is doubtful whether he ever understood or cared to understand the subt1e- ties and the rigid logic of Spinoza's system of philosophy. The fact is that he extracted from Spinoza and other philoso- phers such thoughts as he could use, as were of value to him, and reinterpreted them in terms of his own inner needs, everything else he rejected. His attitude here can best be stated in his own words: “For my part”, he says, “with the . manifold directions in which my nature moves, I cannot be satisfied with any single mode of thought. As a poet and artist I am a polytheist, on the other hand as a student of Nature I am a pantheist, and both with equa1 positiveness. When I need a God for my personal nature as a moral and spiritual being, He also exists for me. The heavenly and earthly things are such an immense realm that it can only be grasped by the collective intelligence of all beings.” As far, then, as the sources of his thought are concerned, we may say that he is a great eclectic, but when we examine the contents of his ideas we find that they are not merely an aggregate of keen observations or detached bits of wisdom, but have rather the coherence and organization of a practical philosophy based upon the character of his personality. The thoughts are fresh and vital because they are deeply rooted in the experiences of a great genius who grappled with the problems of life with the utmost seriousness, and solved them with the strong practical sense of a man of business. The nature of man, man's relation to society, these eterna1 questions of poet and philosopher, are naturally the central problems which Goethe also tries to solve. In his answer to these problems, Goethe stands Out as the most convincing and helpful of optimists in the history of modern thought. His optimismis nota matter of speculation but of experience,— and his experience 1eads him to the firm belief in the essentia1 goodness and reasonableness of the human wi11. The idea that the rational will of men is ever realizing ideals and that it is ever strong enough to combat successfully the forces of evil is fundamental with Goethe, and is the underlying theme of his Faust drama. He finds that Nature has implanted in us desires, aspirations, and ideals, and believes that it is Nature's purpose that all these sensuous and spiritual forces be developed and satisfied. Over against all ascetic doctrines of human nature and conduct, Goethe asserts repeatedly and most impressively the doctrine of self-realization as the centra1 principle of his attitude toward life. The mediaeval doctrine of useless self-mortification which sti11 in one form or amother lingers about us, Goethe utterly rejects as most inimical to any sound system of education and of morals. The teachings grounded on the maxim that “all is vanity” he regards as fundamentally false and blasphemous. That all is mot vanity, that the world is full of interest and meaning and presents to us endless tasks which require our largest effort, is almost the substance of his practical philosophy. The doctrine of pessimism had not yet been organized into a philosophical system in Goethe's time; but several decades lbefore Schopenhauer had formulated his doctrine, a strong spirit of pessimism had passed Over Germany and had cast its deepest shadows upon the youthful Goethe, as we see in the first scenes of his Faust drama. Goethe struggled man- fu11y with this disease, conquered it and devoted his best emergies to combating this hostile attitude toward life. To him human life is precious, and he repeatedly impresses upon us the great responsibilities which it involves. Goethe's doctrine of self-realization as our prime. duty, has often been interpreted by adverse critics as a form of selfish- ness, in view of the umdoubted fact that all virtue requires self-denia1. Goethe recognized this principle of self-denial as clearly as any moralist and gave noble expression to it in many of his poetical and prose writings, but what he combated was the doctrine of aimless and senseless self-denial as the content of virtue. He is not opposed to abstinence when practised in order to obtain some great and useful end. It is abstinence practised for its own sake, abstinence based upon a skeptical attitude toward life, abstinence that leads to noth- ing and aims at nothing that arouses his anger. More- over, he protests not on1y against al1 useless asceticism, but also against a11 omission to satisfy our natura1 desires and aspirations, against a11 s1uggishness and apathy in thought and enjoyment. In short, Goethe with his firm belief in the goodness of human nature, emphatica11y teaches the doctrine that courageous assertion of self is an indispensable con- ' dition of our happiness, for, according to his view of life, human happiness is not a fixed state to be attained by fo11owing certain definite precepts, but the heightened feeling of satisfaction resulting from the application of strenuous energy first to the unfolding of our inborn powers and then to productive activity in some definite calling. Goethe is the classical exponent of the philosophy of action. Action in a pursuit best adapted to man's spiritual and physica1 nature is, according to Goethe, the chief con- dition of happiness. But how can man wisely decide upom a ca11ing which will be in conformity with his deepest nature and in which he wi11, therefore, achieve his best work? Goethe answers: tbrough the 1argest self-culture. Thus among the many values of self-culture Goethe emphasizes its eminently practical value. True culture leads to a just knowledge of self and thus wi11 directly aid man in his just choice of an occupation. Here Goethe gives importance to a doctrine which is obvious enough, but which acquires fresh meaning through the persistent energy with which he teaches and applies it, and through the all-important position which he gives to it in his philosophy of life. He had himself been bewildered by the multiplicity of his tastes and talents, he had wished to do many things and in turn had found himself to a certain degree capable of doing many things. For many years he was in serious doubt whether he should devote him- self to art, poetry or the work of practical administration. Hence the question how he was to arrive at a knowledge of his real vocation proved an exceptionally difficult one for him. In studying this question he observed the many illusions and misconceptions which men so often entertain in regard to their true nature and talents, and the misery which is thus engendered through the false choice of an occupation. The prevailing systems of education he found mechanical and superficial because they but too frequently aroused unreal ambitions and semblances of aptitudes which must inevitably lead to an unwholesome activity. « The relation of self-culture to the just choice of a vocation is the centra1 theme of Goethe's far-famed work, “Wilhelm Meister,'' which may be regarded as the text book of Goethe's practical philosophy. Few books have had a deeper influence on educationa1 ideals. It is almost the first instance of a novel that deals in a large way with the most serious ques- tions of life and especially of education. How Wilhelm Meister mistook his true vocations, how this radica} error led to many serious complications, how a secret society brought the hero to a knowledge of the true doctrine on the subject of vocations, how through this insight he finally gained self- mastery and entered upon his real life-work, a11 this is sug- gested or developed in this greatest of educational novels. The book is a rich store-house of practical wisdom. Indeed, its wealth of ideas and its many digressions and reflections on almost every typical phase of life obscure for us at first its fundamental theme. But repeated readings of the work wi11 disc1ose the fact that its chief interest is centred about the subject of the just choice of vocation. In considering how human life should be organized, Goethe singles out the a11 important fact that each man must finally choose an occupation that will fill out the best part of his 1ife. The principa1 problem is therefore to see that the occupation chosen should not only be worthy, but also most thoroughly suited to the capacity of the individual. What can be more simple and obvious? And yet upon reflection we find that with most moralists this a11 important question is but inadequately considered. Accepted morality considers duties to this person and to that, to our dependents, to the poor, to the family, to the state, but the greatest and most practical of duties, that of choosing our occupation rightly is. generally overlooked or, at best, but superficia11y treated. Our occupation is but too frequently regarded as a matter of necessary routine about which little can be said. Many feel that true life begins when work is over, that only in 1eisure moments they can be most truly themselves. Such a view of life which surrenders to du11ness the larger and most im- portant part of our existence Goethe emphatically condemns. Now “Wilhelm Meister” is a novel about business as such, an attempt to show that an occupation to which we give the largest part of our lives is a most fitting subject for philosophy and poetry. Goethe's centra1 thought is that instead of 1ook- ing for happiness outside of our vocation, we must find it primarily in the serious practical work of our life,-and this is possible only if on the basis of self-knowledge our vocation is rightly chosen. He would impress upon us that we must give unity to our lives by devoting ourselves with hearty enthusiasm to a pursuit which is assigned to us by Nature through the capacities with which she has endowed ' us. In this connection, the teachings of Hamann, a profound but eccentric writer of Goethe's youth, impressed him most deep- ly. Discussing these teachings in his autobiography, Goethe says: “The principle to which all his utterances may be referred is this: whatever man undertakes to do, whether by way of deed or word or otherwise, must spring from a11 his united powers; whatever is isolated is objectionable.'' Com- menting on this principle Goethe says: “A glorious maxim, but difficult to carry into effect.” And in his brilliant essay on Winckelmann, Goethe says: “We can do much by a judicious use of single powers, extraordinary things by the combination of several powers, but supreme and wholly un- expected things by a harmonious union of all our powers.” This “harmonious union of al1 our powers'' Goethe would have us apply to our life work, and believes that only in so doing can the 1argest measure of happiness be attained. From Goethe's point of view every man should be treated as a, genius, for he has his own unique individuality which re- quires the same sort of tender consideration that is accorded to genius. Goethe insists, therefore, that it is our prime duty to develop most fully our individuality and them surrender it to some form of social service best adapted to our native capacity. Happiness can result only when our whole person- ality can fully realize itself in a congenial vocation. Goethe is generally acknowledged as the greatest apostle of self-culture, but the practical purpose which he assigns to self-culture is overlooked by many. The statement is, indeed, often made that Goethe regarded self-culture as the highest aim in life. This misinterpretation of Goethe's doctrine is largely due to the romanticists. Goethe's doctrine of self- culture especially appealed to them, and so they developed and popularized it and made it the basis of their view of life. The other and more essential part of Goethe's doctrine con- cerning the purpose of self-culture they would not or could not understand, and those who understood its full meaning, rejected it as too prosaic and practical. It is owing to this misinterpretation of Goethe that he has so often been accused of cold pride, self-sufficiency, and lack of sympathy, and that his doctrine of self-culture has been regarded by many as a refined form of selfishness. But an unprejudiced study of his writings will convince you that this view is fundamenta11y false. Goethe never regarded self-culture as an end in itself, but as the most effective means for a larger and nobler end. His real doctrine is that the end of self-culture is social ser- vice. Nowhere does Goethe develop this social ideal more convincingly than in his Faust drama. Faust, the typical mam of serious endeavor, after years of severe and fruitless scholar- ship, abandons his career as university teacher and surrenders himself to the 1argest experience. He yields to the impulse of unbridled passion and becomes the cause of the deepest sorrow. He lives for a time at a splendid but corrupt court and becomes acquainted with the vapid pleasures and intrigues of a life of self-indulgence. But ever striving onward, he devotes himself with the whole ardor of his nature to the appreciation of Hellenic life and art. All these experiences develop his 1argest and fu11est humanity. But how does he end life? Wherein does he find his deepest satisfaction? In social service. A11 his rich experience, his culture, his wis- dom, his deeper insight into the meaning of life he places at the service of humanity. He obtains from the emperor a grant of a large piece of a submerged sea-coast and converts it to a seat of prosperous cultivation. With practical benefi- cent energy he makes it the habitation of a happy busy life for multitudes of men. To stand on a free soil and to labor zwith and for a free people is his highest idea1. In the midst of his gigantic social work he is overtaken by death, but in the last moment of his life there rises before him the vision of a perfect social organism the realization of which will re- quire endless generations of incessant toil. This inspiring vision of the most strenuous social action gives him the highest moment of satisfaction. And so he says: “Ja! diesem Sinne bin ich ganz ergeben, Das ist der Weisheit letzter Schluss: Nur der verdient sich Freiheit wie das Leben, Der täglich sie erobern muss.'' And in a later scene, when after a struggle between angels and devils Faust's soul has been carried aloft to Heaven, the angels, reaffirming the religion of the deed, sing: '' Gerettet ist das edle Glied Der Geisterwelt vom Bösen: Wer immer strebend sich bemüht Den können wir erlösen.'' The application of Goethe's practical philosophy to our modern educational life in Europe and more especially in this country, is not far to see. The trend of Goethe's most mature thought leads us to believe that, if he were among us today, he would raise a voice of warning against the general danger of our rushing too early into any specialized form of activity in business or scholarship. This overhaste in the choice of our life work arising from the natural desire of our vigorous and ambitious youth to get an early start in the race for success may after a11 involve us in the serious danger of defeating our own ends. For how is our fullest self-realiza- tion possible except in an activity that stands in some organic relation to our rea1 capacity, to our deepest personality? And lnow are we to know what this rea1 capacity of ours is except through a 1arge process of education that leads to self-know- ledge? Life is precious, and yet with a11 our improved methods of education we find everywhere about us wasted energies, men and women who after years of strenuous work discover that their efforts have been misdirected, that the results of their 1abor have been meager or fruitless, that, in short, they have missed their calling. Unfortunately the realization of this sad fact comes often too 1ate in life to make a change of occupation practicable, and so these persons feel constrained to continue to drag out their existence in uncon- genia1 labors, and are deprived of that highest happiness which can only come from a whole-hearted devotion to one's 1ife work. It is not surprisingthat many people of this class, after their day's work is done, try to find some satisfaction in various kinds of distraction or excitement, a11 in the vain effort to fi11 out the spiritual void of their being. The popularity and financial success of our degenerate stage and the other forms of vapid amusement in which our cities and towns abound and which are so 1argely patronized not only by the masses but also by the so-called respectable educated class, can, in my judgment, be explained in part by the fact that the people in search for such enjoyment are utterly de- void of inner resources, that they regard their occupation as a drudgery and a burden, and that their famished souls, vaguely craving for a larger life, eagerly seize in their leisure moments upon any form of pleasure that seems to promise temporary physica1 and menta1 excitement. Unfortunately it is generally a pleasure which, instead of upbuilding, emervates and weakens. This state of affairs is very old. Philosophers, moralizers, satirists in a11 stages of human his- tory utter complaints of the shallowness and vulgarity of the tastes and pleasures of the public and offer diverse remedies. Goethe meets this problem in his practical way by emphasiz- ing the prime importance of sound culture as an essentia1 prerequisite for a wise choice of occupation. Thus, instead of making our life-work a drudgery, we can and should make it a source of ever growing satisfaction. In this way he would give wholeness, organic unity to our lives. It is this teaching of Goethe which seems to me to have the most vita1 application to our modern educational con- ditions. It is an indisputable fact that the present tendency of educationa1 ideals is toward the direct1y practica1. In our co11eges and even high schools such course or courses of study are today preferred and emphasized as wi11 furnish the student immediately upon his leaving the school with direct financia1 returns. Education is nowadays often spoken of as a good financia1 investment. Now, I believe that I am speak- ing in the spirit of Goethe when I say that he, the most practica1 of poets, would have declared this whole present tendency in education as decidedly unpractica1 from the point of view of the efficient performance of our duties to ourselves and to society. I duly appreciate the sad and un- doubted fact that in many cases the untoward circumstances of life make the mercantile view of education seem a neces- sity. However, I would maintain that in the 1ight of reason and actual experience this view as an zdea/ of education is faulty and misleading, and I believe that Goethe's idea of the necessity of the fu11 and harmonious development of our per- sonality as a basis for our practical work and as a source of our truest happiness is vastly nearer the truth. The educationa1 task that Goethe sets before us is indeed most difficult and is probably rarely, if ever, fully realized. However, if his principle be true, it must ever serve as our ideal in our educational reforms. The difficulty of the task seems to have been much increased by the vast extension of knowledge in recent times. In Goethe's and Herder's time, with its comparatively restricted field of knowledge, the task of establishing a satisfactory system of education with a view to general culture was certainly much simpler. As is well known, the German gymnasium, the true child of the Renaissance, received under the influence of the Neo-Hellenic movement at the end of the eighteenth century its definite form and, until comparatively recent times, has been general- ly acknowledged as a source of the best discipline and cul- ture. Our own older system of higher education, although somewhat different in origin, was in its aims and ideals essentially quite similar to that of the German gymnasium. A generation or two ago, the long supremacy of the ancient classics as the best means of culture was questioned and at- tacked, and, after much heated controversy, Overthrown,— whether with justice or not, only a larger experience than we can now command, will prove. The elective system is the inevitable result of the great extension of organized human knowledge developed in the nineteenth century. The new branches of thought with their vast and valuable contribu- tions to human knowledge, with the great change they have wrought in our view of life and with theirundoubted practical benefits to humanity, were entitled to fu11 and equal recogni- tion in the curriculum of our schools and higher institutions of 1earning. But this extension of knowledge has by no means invalidated Goethe's idea of culture. For, if we in- terpret his ideal correctly, we find that it does not primarily imply a vast accumulation of facts, however important and useful. If this were so, we should have to pronounce Goethe's Wagner a man of large culture, which he certainly is not. Culture with Goethe means spiritual insight and power, ca11ed forth by an awakening, a development and an organiza- tion of a11 the facu1ties of our being. It means an enlarge- ment, a heightening and a harmonization of our personality, with a view to the most efficient work in our chosen vocation. The mu1tiplicity of subjects introduced into our schools has simply zm2creased the possible means or tools for realizing Goethe's ideal. We are today really better equipped for the great task of culture than previous generations. Henceforth we shall expect of the educator greater discrimination and ski11 in the wise selection of such typica/ subjects as wi11 de- velop most fu11y and effectively the intel1ectual and spiritua1 powers of our youth. In view of the present situation it seems doubtful whether the educational world will soon agree again upon that exact selection and organization of courses best adapted to the end of culture which formerly existed. In the very nature of the case dogmatic procedure is here very dangerous and agreement almost impossible. The best we cam hope for is that we may gradually arrive at some consensus of opinion as to the general principles to be fol- 1owed in the selection of subjects with high cultura1 values. The dislodgment of the old curriculum from its long in- trenched position and the introduction of free competition of a11 subjects that possess strong educational possibilities, wi11, in my judgment, prove of the greatest benefit to the ends of culture. For any subject, whatever be its cultura1 value, if it be safely protected by school or academic regulations in its position of influence, is in danger of degenerating into stagnant and pedantic formalism; whereas in an atmosphere of free competition every subject wi11 have to fi7rozye its claims to a position of influence by the actual results attained, and this will be possible only if it be presented from its most vital aspect and taught in the most effective manner. There- fore the new conditions of education cannot but be full of the keenest interest and promise to the emergetic teacher and scholar who is devoted to his work and has faith in its educa- tiona1 value. Free competition wi11 put every such teacher upon his mettle and give new zest to his labors. The self- complacent pedagogue must go and make room for the teacher with love and enthusiasm for his calling. We have seen that Goethe's idea1 of culture is eminently practica1 and is as vital today as it was in the eighteenth century. I wish now to touch upon severa1 other values of culture which are but too often overlooked in this age of specialization. Very important is its social quality. True culture develops in us a just appreciation of our own work in its organic relation to the larger activities of society. It serves as the surest corrective against an overestimation of the work in our own calling and against an oftentimes con- temptuous depreciation of the work of others. The latter is the almost inevitable deleterious result of early specializa- tion. Specialization without the broad basis of a liberal cul- ture must eventually 1ead to a life of spiritual isolation with its natural concomitants of misanthropy and pessimism. It is, moreover, in constant danger of losing sight of vital issues and of degenerating into pedantic and useless 1earning. Nowhere is the just appreciation of the various typical values of life so important as in a democratic community like ours. In a bureaucratic country like Prussia, a11 the larger , interests of the state, the interests of religion, literature, art, education, social and industria1 betterment generally eman- ate from or are encouraged by the central government. If that government be in strong and competent hands, these vita1 interests may receive fu11 recognition. In our country these highly important social activities must be given over to the people themselves. Hence the greatest demands are and must be made upon the individual citizen. The very idea of our government presupposes a large and intelligent sympathy of the average citizen for the many varied problems, social and political, of a democratic community. It is only through our developed powers of mind and heart to get into close touch with the great questions that agitate our country that we can encourage every generous effort for strengthen- ing and elevating our nationa1 life, and help to destroy the forces that make for disorder and lawlessness. In short, it is only through a broad and sympathetic culture that the citizens of a democratic state can help to arouse and develop in a11 relations of their nationa1 life that healthy public senti- ment which is the very 1ife-breath of democracy and which must find its- final expression in just action. ft was hot ihy purposè to attemipt to §ketch for you here the whole 6f Göetiié's practical philosophy. What I wished ab6vé ali to emphasize wäs the importafice of Goethe's fünäa- rhehtal téaching for tis that aii fruitfui actiori must spring from the füliest development of our personality. Work, always with love, never with hatred, was Goethe's grand text and rtile 6f life. He who worked in a different spirit was to him a diiettarite atiâ ah impeáiment to trtie progress. No man assertéd more erhphatically thät energy of action shoüld be åécorhpänied by energy of feéling. ft was the consistent prihcipie of his life that the whole imian should act together. He rêveréâ the Greeks ariâ tried to emulate them because he believed that iii their classió period they lived and worked in accordahce with this principiè. & It is because Goethe hirhself worked with a “harmoniotis union of all his powers* that his poetic creätions have süch vitality and truth. His authority is one of the most potent courts of appeal in modern times. His influence is stronger today than ever before, his fame is as international as that of Shakspeare. His poetry and philosophy are so he1pfu1 to us because they are based upon intense and wide experience. In his great poetical productions the ideal and the real are organica11y related, the former growing by natura1 necessity out ofthe latter and developing into blossom and fruitage by a beautiful process of metamorphosis. So it was no doubt with many of the greatest poets and thinkers, only that in Goethe's case the process seems to have been more thoroughly worked out; at least we can trace it biographically with instructive minuteness. To yield freely to all natura] influences and socia1 relations and then to retire into himself and express in suitable and pure forms whatever great and typical impres- sions his experiences had communicated to him, was the process of his poetic art. Hence his poems, however1ight and airy they may seem, are firmly rooted in reality and are astrue in their sphere as the solid and flesh-like portraits of a Titian or a Rembrandt are in theirs. When he writes, he scorns working for effect; he is simply living out his life, he is merely achieying the Bildumg, the culture, which Nature intended for his life task, he is doing with the totality of his powers what he would have every man do in his chosen field of work. You see how utterly erroneous it is to accuse Goethe of intellectual idolatry or self-worship. His nature was keenly sympathetic and broadly social. His ideal of culture was that it is every man's sacred duty to make the most of him- self that he can with the faculties he possesses and the cir- cumstances in which he is placed, and then surrender this largest self to social service. Whoever does this may retire from the scene of life with the consoling consciousness that he has led a full and true life. Such a life Goethe led, and so he deserves to be revered by succeeding generations not only as a poet of supreme power, but also as a mam of the noblest and soundest practical wisdom. v. •—_—_ 7ΤΓΟΓΟΤΓΕγΛΤξΤΓsEIA V. 305 sceptigism, its profound social and religious umrest. The relent- less thinking, the large perception of the comie, which stamp thj mam, are interpenetrated with “the ironic consciousness 4* strates him to be a Becquè a Gilbert. In the limming of strokes of a Hogarth, shaded by % the mordantly revelative lighter pencil of a Gavarni, tions and electric contPasts, is united With thèsexquisite effrontery of a Whistler, withyhis devastating jeua; d'esprit. dicere verum.^f he is a Celtic Molière de nos jwrs, it is a Molière into^whom has passed the insouciant spirit o If Bernard Shaw is the Irish Ibsen, it is, as Eduard B has said a laughing Ibsen—looking out upon a half-mad wò d with the riant eyes of a Heine, a Chamfort, or a Sheridan. ARCHIBALD HENDERsoN. voL. CLXXXVI.—NO. 616. 90 : ■ ' ENGLISH STYLE. EY JOSEPHI S. AUERI3AC H. “ Well do they play the careful critic's part, Instructing doubly by their matchless art; Pules for good verse they first with pains indite, Them show us what are bad, by what they write.” IT is idle to ignore the deep, far-reaching significance of the fact that to-day mamy even well-educated persons indicate by their speech and writing an increasing indifference to anything approaching a due regard for English style. Such indifference is by no means a trivial or negligible matter, since, as a rule, a feeble, faulty style is associated not only with platitude, but fre- quently with intellectual error, as well as with a disregard, if not contempt, for true culture. As Mr. Benson says: “ Very few people are om the lookout for style nowadays. The ordinary reader is quite indifferent to it, and the ordinary eritie is quite um- aware what it is. . . . The mistake is to think that there is much in- tellectual or artistic feeling abroad. . . . Indeed, the appreciation of im- tellectual and artistic excellence has distinctly decreased in the last fifty years; and probably the reason why there is a, lack of great Writers is that we do not at the present time want them. We want a, sparkling, heady beverage; not an old, fragrant, mellow vintage. It is an age of cigarettes, champagne, golf, motors,—brisk, active, lively, brief things ; not an age of reflection or repose.” Matthew Arnold says, in speaking of our intolerance of any supervisory body like the French Academy: “ We like to be suffered to lie comfortably in the old straw of our habits, particularly of intellectual habits, even though the straw may mot be very clean and fine.” If we are mindful of our duty and even of our interest, We must not be content until we have done What lies in our power to corrcct ENGLISHI STYLE. 30 such deplorable conditions. Especially in America are we charged with this responsibility. We have many magazines which provide entertainment along with their pages of advertisements of wares and nostrums; and we give inadequate support to Only ome Or two publica- tions of a high order of literary excellemce; and articles of distinct merit evem in these are not by any means the rule. We can measure the extent of such a loss when we consider that volumes and volumes om our library shelves, constituting a priceless part of our literature, represent merely contributions to the magazines of the authors* day now boumd together as books. It is a long Catalogue of splendid names, among which are to be numbered those of Carlyle, Macaulay, Addison, Arnold, Stevens and John- son. * There were giants in the earth in those days.” It is at best doubtful whether our universities are doing their share of the work of correction. From the curriculums of some of them the classies, with all their qualifications for intel- lectual training and for the inculcation of an understanding and love of what is true style, have been largely omitted. Our uni- versities are teaching many things ; just how much of what they are teaching eam be fairly regarded as a substitute, if there be amy substitute, for that which has been thus omitted is quite amother questiom. . Apparently, a special department for the teaching of English will not suffice. President Thwing of the Westerm Reserve Univer- sity says, in a late mumber of THE NORTII AMERICAN REVIEW : “ Oxford has mo special chair devoted to the training of students in the art of English composition. For thirty years amd more, the Ameri- eam College has been emphasizing this department and form of instructiom. The Oxford system presupposes that the writimg of English is an art and a science in which it is a duty of every instructor to give tuition. The department is not a department. It does not represent segregations. It must be confessed that the results of the two systems seem to favor the Oxford interpretation and method. One comprehensive deficiency of the Americam system is found in the lack of a sense of style which most of the writing done by Americam students shows.” So keem an observer as Mr. Howells, in One of his recent books, contrasts the * slovemliness ** of speech of the best type of the Americam undergraduate with “ the beauty of utterance * of the Oxford student. While it is true that to our over-devotion to the exacting de- 308 THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW. A. mands of trade and commerce, and to neglect in the home circle and in the preparatory school, is to be traced much of our indiffer- ence to English style, and therefore to culture; yet, in the opiniom of those qualified to speak authoritatively on the subject, some of our great educational institutions are blameworthy and must accept their share of the responsibility. It is not presumptuous, therefore, for One with only such in- formation om the subject as is possessed by persons of ordinary education, to call attention to existing methods which neither meet, with the approwal of the observant scholar nor accomplish the desired results. i ' Moreover, not only does the Oxford student speak the English language better tham the Americam student, but the graduate of our best universities not a score of years ago spoke it with a grace and precision compared with which the conversation of many a graduate of the present day is a close approach to a kind of jargom. There has been of late years a distinct decadence in literary expression. With our umdue strivimg after * prac- tical* things and results, we have established in some of our universities the form of a drill or routine instruction for the Writing of correct English, but apparently we are content with the form. It would seem, at best, doubtful whether appropriate prominence has been given to the development of a love for English literature. It is not meant by this statement to suggest that, text-books on rhetorie can be dispensed with. Quite the contrary. They are essential to the mastery of the art of Writing, though the knowledge. acquired from a study of them should not be displayed offensively, amy more than need the decalogue be referred to with Ostentation by the man of honor as his guide to right conduct. The text-books, however, should be those which, both by pre- cept and example, teach the principles of English composition, and not merely a series of ungraceful, though correct, directions strung together as rigid rules. They must be books which are the prod- uct of the scholar's effort, and which will persuade the student, to turn to the open page of literature, whence will come the incentive and inspiration to grace and vigor of expression. The standard works on rhetorie accomplish this result and are not lightly to be cast aside; if any new treatise is to be written, it must supplement these Works, and not attempt to supplant them. ENGLISH STYLE. - 309 The whole subject receives a fresh interest by reason of the issue from the publication office of Harvard University of a pamphlet containing among other things illustrations of errors in the Writ- ing of English by students applying for admission to Harvard Col- lege. Many of the sentences, it is true, are sorry exhibitions of a total lack of a knowledge of English style On the part of the ordi- nary Americam student, though some of them, it may be suggested, do not deserve the censure they receive. But, while it is made abundantly clear that there are students incapable of Writing anything approaching graceful, forceful English, a cursory ex- amination of the pamphlet discloses the fact that more than One sentence of its authors cannot be said to be above reproach. The chief significance of the pamphlet, however, lies in the fact that it goes out of its way to commend a Work on “ English Composition,” by the Professor of English Literature in Harward lUniversity, considered sufficiently meritorious to justify its re- cent republication by the Messrs. Charles Scribners' Sons of New York City, and its use as a text-book for Harward students. It is of deep import, not only to the instructor and the student, but also to the general reader, to know whether this book, by the Professor of English Literature in our representative university—who is himself sufficiently prominent to have been selected to deliver a course of lectures on literary subjects at Oxford and Paris—is entitled to be regarded as an authority on English composition. If it ought not to be so regarded, them we , should endeavor to arrive at a correct estimate of the merits of such a book, uninfluenced in our judgment by its authorship, its commendation, or the use to which it is devoted. Por, as has been Said by Mr. Moon in his masterpiece of criti- cism, “The Dean's English * : “ By influential example it is that languages are moulded into what- ever form they take; therefore, according as example is for good or for evil, so Will a language gain in strength, sweetness, precision and elegance, or will become weak, harsh, unmeaning and barbarous.” And Maeaulay says, in defence of his rather merciless re- view of Robert Montgomery's poems, that “The opinion of the great body of the reading public is very ma- terially influenced even by the unsupported assertions of those who a8sume the right to eriticise.” - It would be reasonable to expect that, under the conditions 310 THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIE]W. stated, this work on “ English Composition * would be a Worthy publicatiom, and compare favorably with the standard books on rhetorie, amd evem with treatises on style by such distinguished men of letters as Arnold and Pater and Hazlitt and De Quincey. Yet it cam be confidently asserted that this reasonable expecta- tion is not realized; that meither for its precept mor forits example is the book justly entitled to be commended ; and that im it are found emphasized mamy objectionable methods of imparting im- struction in English Writing. Some new definitioms are attempted, but these are neither par- ticularly happy mor comprehensive. Along with some rather solemn insistence upom principles the correctness of which is generally conceded, we fimd a certain finality in statements con- cerning things about which mem have agreed there may be a justifiable difference of opinion, while many obvious facts are de- scribed in detail as if the author were annoumcing to the World some great intellectual discovery. We find crudities, imaccuracies, mistakes of grammar and exhibitioms of at least questionable scholarship. There are also some enigmatical observations as to the art of Writing; but, as Mr. John Morley has said, “ a platitude is not turmed into a profundity by being dressed up as a comun- drum.” - There is little in the book indicating am abounding charity, Or even a fair consideratiom, for the views of others; mem and things unwelcome to the author are treated with scant courtesy. The author says that particularly journalists, along ** with most of us, generally speak or Write hastily, without leisure to consider details of style.” There are, however, in the city of New York several newspapers in which no editorial so loosely and so in- artistically put together as the greater part of this book, is ever primted. Legal language is referred to as associated with ** be- wildering, slovenly masses of words.* Yet, the brief of mamy a trained advocate at the Bar of New York is Writtem With more idio- matic, graceful, forceful English than is characteristic of this book. Wendell Phillips, whose name is found high On the roll of great orators, is called ** the cleverest of our oratorical tricksters.” Of EmersOn the author says, “ Emerson's indubitable obscurity to ordinary readers Itake to be a matter of actual thought.” The sentence which the author quotes in illustration of his asser- tion is the following, which he ** fails to understand at all*: ENGLISH STYLE. - 311 “The simplest persom who in his integrity worships God becomes God; yet forever and ever the influx of this better and universal self is new and umsearchable.” - As we read on in “ English Composition * We shall have cause to Wonder what Would have been the result if the author had undertaken to restate the great spiritual truth expressed by Emerson in such simple, impressive Words. There are long rambling references to things which are at least trivial. On pages 35, 36 and 37, in the discussiom of the sentences “ Nero killed Agrippina,* and “ Nero interfecit Agrippinam,”— . with the commentary, among other things, that itis the eonvenient final * m * which * does Agrippina's business,”—as in the dis- * cussion on pages 107, 108 and 109 of the sentence, ** I started up, and a seream was heard,** with its variations ** I started up and sCreamed * and ** I started up with a scream,” it is made clear ad mauseam, that the most obvious conclusions are defensible. Much of the treatment of the subject cannot be said to be on a very elevated plane. We are told about “ our present business,” “ our next business,” “ the Chief part of our business * ; ** the mat- ter in hand,” “ the chief matter in hand * and ** the real matter im hand.*' Things “ at bottom * are of this or that character ; the writer's art is a “trade with tricks * ; we have * pieces of style * as well as * pieces of Writimg * amd * pieces of literature ”; “ clauses are thrown into grammatical form * ; words are * pitched upon,” and ideas are referred to as “ packed,” mot only within prose sentences, but into exquisite limes of verse. Even in quotations by the author we find inaecuraey and loose- Il€SS. - ^. On page 295 We read: “ No mam is great to his body-servant, you remember.” No one remembers this. What we do remember is that “ No mam is a hero to his valet,” a fairly accurate trans- lation of a French line. In speaking of Emerson, the author says, on page 208: “ Con- sistency, if I remember aright, he somewhere declares to be the chief vice of little minds.* The author did not remember aright. What Emerson Wrote was that * A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.” The following statement is fairly typical of some of the at- tempts to deal with the subject after a scholarly method (pages 56 and 58): - 312 THE} NORTH AMERICAN REJVIEW. “ Etymology, in short, is a most interesting study or pastime; and the history of this potpourri of am English of ours makes the fit words for simple ideas—ideas of fighting, for example, or of spontaneous aspira- tion—chiefly Saxom in their origin; but the same history makes the fit words for more contemplative ideas—ideas of literary criticism, for example, or of deliberate meditation—chiefly Latin. . . . Big words are apt to be Latin, and little to be Saxom ; acknowledge and dam^ to the contrary notwithstanding.” - To condemn any such statement we do not need to contrast it with the language of the scholar, as found in books like “ Words and Their Ways in English Speech,” by Professors Greenough and Kittredge of Harvard. In comparison With even the common knowledge possessed by all persons reasonably well informed as to the gemesis of English speech, the statement quoted lacks seriousness. Again, On pages 282 and 283, there is a discussion as to the choice of the word ** Elegance * for the title of one of the chapters of the book. The use of this obvious Word needed no defemce, and as matter of fact the author admits he adopted the three divisions of his subject, ** Clearness, Force and Elegance,” from Professor Adams S. Hill's book. The author, however, insists om justifying his choice of the word by a reference to what is termed its derivation from ** ea: * and ** lego,” which he says * meam literally to pick out, to choose from among some great mass of things the one thing that shall best serve our purpose, etc.” The author by such a method could have justified for the title of his chapter the use of “ Electiom,* which much more directly tham “ elegance * is derived from “ ea: * and “lego.” The fact is that our word ** elegance * is probably traceable directly or indirectly to the Latin ** elegans,” to which was already attached its figura- tive meaning before it was adopted into our language; and ** ele- gans ” was not derived from the verb “ lego ” of Latin literature, but from am obsolete verb of the first conjugation. The whole discussion absolutely and relatively is misleading. Such resort to etymology is, as a rule, of little aid im determin- ing the precise meaming which usage attaches to Words. Mr. Marsh in his “ I.ectures On the English Language,” and Mr. Greenough and Mr. Kittredge, in their book above referred to, have am emphatie condemnatiom of “ Such false linguistic doc- trine.” - On page 46 there is this sentence: ENGLISH STYLE].' 313 ** And I know that there are few more unidiomatic absurdities tham those of the gentlemen who insist on spelling Alfred Aelfred, and Virgil with an e, and otherwise on impairing that irrational, spontaneous va- riety which people who love English know to be one of its most subtile charms.” That such a peculiarity in spelling has anything to do with an idiomatic absurdity will be news to most persons; and, in the thoughts of some unamiable reader, the author's rather flippant assumption of superiority to the scholars who insist that “ Vergil* is a correct spelling may well seem to border On a kind of arro- gance. The expressiom * it is me * is defended as idiomatic for the rea- son that “ it is I° is conceived to be pedantic. The distinction in the use of the auxiliary verbs shall and will is by no means forcibly or fully stated. While it is true that some accepted rules of writing are correctly set forth, they are found as well if mot better expressed by other authors; and perhaps it may not be unfair to say, as to this part of the book, What Webster said of the Free-soil party: “ I have read their platform, and though I think there are some um- sound places in it, I cam stand upon it pretty well ; but I see nothing in it both new and valuable: what is valuable is not mew, and what is mew is not, valuable.” Whem, however, We consider the style of the book, it is ex- ceptional to find sentences which are not censurable for their feeble or ungraceful structure; and the quotations which follow -—reproduced as printed, except that words are italicized in order to emphasize errors—are selected from among similar sentences almost at random. The methods which, after a reflection of ten years, the author adopts and recommends for intellectual production are, to say the least, novel; some persons might pronoTlnce them not serious. “ On separate bits of paper—cards, if they be at hand— I write down the separate headings that occur to me, in what seems to me the natural order. Them, whem my little pack of cards is complete—in other words, when I have a card for every heading which I think of—I study them and sort them almost as deliberately as I should sort a hand at whist; and it has very rarely been my experience to find that a shift of arrange- ment will not decidedly improve the original order. . . . A few minutes? shuffling of these little cards has oftem revealed to me more tham I should have learned by hours of unaided pondering.” i 314 THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW. There are, however, other methods, for on page 211 we read: “ My method of clearing my ideas is by mo means the only one. I have known people who could do it best by talking ; by putting some- body in [sic] a comfortable chair and making him listem to their efforts to discover what they really think.* Certainly the listener undergoing such an ordeal is entitled to a comfortable chair ; for the people intent om clarifying their ideas might all talk at omce. The author of this book has shown by some of his literary work that he is not Without the ability to present a subject attractively. The most indifferent Writing, however, seems to be good enough for this book. On page 120 we have am example of what is considered good English: “ A sentence which on analysis proves sensible is generally good Eng- lish. By the same token, a paragraph sensibly composed is beyond cavil a, good paragraph.” To it, however, should be added this sentence from page 35: “ A style that stick$ together is coherent; a style whose parts hang loose is mot ”; - and also the following intellectual nugget from page 193: “In the first place, any piece of style appeals to the understanding; we understand it, or we do not understand it, or we are doubtful whether we wmderstand it or mot; in other words, it has an intellectual quality.” Sentence after sentence will be found ending with “ what not* and * and so on,” long before the expression of the thought has approached completion. For instance, om page 112 We read: “ As I utter these words in combination, the pronoum calls up certain individualities of face and form amd manmer and dress, and what mot.”. On page 16? we read: “ There may be living occasional individuals who have resisted the im- pulse to skip the emdless lucubrations of Dryasdust and what not; but I do not remember having met one.” On page 89 we read: “I have said enough, I hope, to show that the fundamental difference between periodie sentences and loose is about the same as the funda- mental difference8 we discussed between different kinds of words,—Latim amd Saxon, big and little, and so on ; it is a difference of effeet.” ENGLISH STYLE. 315 On pages 76, 125, 128 and 190 we have more of these “ and SC ons.” Clearly, the reader is entitled to know the author's mean- ing, and to insist that he be not foreclosed of information by these meaningless * what nots* and * and so Ons.” There is about as much propriety in this kind of writimg as there Was in the conduct of the country minister who, after reading in Genesis of the genealogy of the patriarchs, how Adam begat Seth and Seth begat sons and daughters, summed up the remainder of the chapter by the rather movel and yet comprehensive assertion: “ And so they kept on begetting to the end of the chapter.” Here are illustrations of favorite but quite indefensible ex- pressions distributed throughout the book: “ Are not short, sentences preferable to long? What long semtences are, and short, I leave to your common sense ; what anybody cam per- ceive needs no definition ” (page 89). “ From this, two or three conclusioms follow, sometimes laid down as distinet rules. Obviously a short sentence is less apt to stray out of unity than a, long; a, periodie than a, loose * (page 98). - “ If our object be to ramble, them mot to ramble were to blunder; but in general our object is to produce a definite effect and not a nebulous ” (page 162). “ Perhaps the simplest way to show the superiority of carefully planned work to carelessly, is to compare,” etc. (page 181). Repetition of the same words is persisted im, as in one of the sentences just quoted, whem its avoidamce is required by euphony and the rules of graceful Writing. We read: “ And the more you analyze your impressioms of style the more you will find, unless your experience differs surprisingly from most, that,” ete. (page 8). “ In a book on rhetoric I lately read is a long quotation from some respectable man of letters concerning what the career of a mam of letters ought to be ; and at the end of the quotation, he who quotes writes thus ”. (page 205). The following quotation is from the chapter on “ Elegance *: “ And whoever should say that passiomate writing cannot have the trait before us noW—the quality that pleases the taste—as well, as the in- tellectual quality clearmess, and the emotional quality force, would ob- viously say something that would make his notion of the quality very different from the notion I am trying to lay before you.” 316 THE NORTH AMERIOAN REVIEW. Perhaps a frivolous and provincial persom might say by way of paradox, that this sentence lacks * quality.” - On page 71, there is this sentence: “ It is not what it, seemed at first,—simply to pitch upon a word by which good use has agreed with reasonable approximation to name the idea, he wishes to arouse. It is equally, if mot more, to make sure that the word he chooses shall not only name the idea distinctly enough to identify it, but also name it by a name—if such a, name is to be found— which shall arouse,” etc. • • •*• • . • a • *• «** ■***•***•• We cam all Tecall from the great books of literature the im- pressive and often electric effect of judicious repetitiom, but it.is of a different quality from that so lavishly displayed in “ English Composition.” . Throughout the book the relative pronoun * that* is over and over again used to excess where the employment of “ which * is demanded by good usage or euphony. Evidently the author has determined to deny * The humble petition of wHo and WHICH ” against being supplanted by the * jack sprat THAT,” as playfully submitted by Steele in “The Spectator.” There are attempts like the following to contribute to the sum Of our knowledge. Om page 32 is this sentence: - “ What distinguishes written, words from spoken, literature from the colloquial language that precedes it, is that written words address them- selves to the eye and spoken words to the ear. Though this fundamental physical fact has been neglected by the makers of text-books, I know few more important.” It may be said that the fact referred to has not been neglected by the makers of text-books, if by the * makers of text-books * we are warranted in guessing that the author meant to describe the Writers of books on Rhetoric and Composition ; and having in mind the well-known lines of Ars Poetica, we may add that the oft-pointed-out distinction is as old as Horace amd the hills. On page 209 we have the following: “ To be clear in narrative, or in exposition, or in argument, or in amy kind of discourse whatever, we must evidently proceed from what is known to what is unknown; and if at any point in this process we per- mit our style to become vague or ambiguous or obscure,—in other words, so to ea press ourselves either that our meaning may rationally be mis- takem or that we may rationally be supposed to have no meaning at all,— we may resign ourselves,” etc. EJNGLISH STYLEJ. • * 317 Aside from the characteristie faults of the author, it may be stated that the * so to express ourselves* is inadmissible. The context requires the expression * if we so express ourselves,” etc.; or the ** to *° before * express* must be omitted. There are many sentences exhibiting an ingenious variety of infelicities in the choice and use of words fatal to a correct and pleasing style; but lack of space forbids more than this passing reference to them. - Then, too, an indefensible order of words produces at times an effect almost grotesque. On page 94 We read: - “ Of course, these few examples indicate the development of style in a very rough way.” - On page 23, the italics being the author's, we read: * * I moticed a dirty gamin,' writes a student; and amother, using a word now confined at Harvard College to street urchim, deseribes the same small boy as a mucker.” - Perhaps one may suggest that the confinement had not been wery rigorous; for clearly the word has broken jail and is emjoyimg its liberty in street talk and sometimes elsewhere. On page 33 we are edified with this rather Surprising statement: “ Or agaim, remark a fact that is becoming in my literary studies comically general: familiar quotations from celebrated books are almost always to be found at the begimming or the emd. * Music hath charms * are the opening words of Congreve's * Mourning Bride.' Don Quixote fights with the wimdmill very early im the first volume; he dies with the re- mark that there are no birds in last year's nests mear the end of the last.” The advice to the shoemaker to ** stick to his last * does not work well when applied literally in authorship. On page 183 we are regaled with this utterance: “ Perhaps the eleverest variation of all is that by which such treason to a friend as makes Proteus odious is made, simply by attributing it to Helena, a woman, a very vemial matter.” Mr. Choate, with his inimitable humor, dismissed the claim of the equality of WOman to man by the statement that Woman at best was but a “ side issue.* It was reserved for the author of “ English Composition,” however, to assert that Woman is * a very venial matter.” With the following sentences, which embody much that is typical of the author's style, together with what may not im- 318 THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW. properly be regarded as a fìtting commentary on “ English Compositiom,*° the limit of quotations for a magazine article will have been reached. “ All the carelessmess of habitual speech and writimg rarely suffices to make a mote of something recent by any means as indistinct as a mote of the same thing after am interval. While sometimes a mere matter of style, vagueness is oftener an actual matter of thought. In a general way, a, vague writer does not know what he wants to say, and so generally says something that may meam a great many different things.” The author properly enough, as ome will see who inspects the two books, has acknowledged his obligations to the text-book of Pro- fessor Hill, im which are printed side by side many examples of incorrect and correct sentences. To Professor Hill's Work could be added no meam supplement devoted entirely to the reconstruc- tion of faulty sentences from ** English Compositiom.* For such use the author may properly claim he has Written am acceptable text-book emtitled to am extended circulation ; Ergo fungar vice cotis, acutum, Reddere quae ferrum, valet eæors ipsa secandi. It cam be said without exaggeratiom that the foregoing semtemces are fairly illustrative of the unfortunate methods employed in this book. In the true sense it eammot be said to have amy style at all. Errors in scores of its sentences are apparent even to the most inexperieneed writer; and it is the exception to find thoughts expressed with either grace or vigor. Even in the quality of clearness, the book is full of transgressions, while to the precision and niceties and beauty of the English language it seems quite oblivious. Yet at Harvard University, which prides itself upon its method of instruction in the study of our language, “ English Composition * is commended by its faculty and used as a text-book. In one of our great institutions of learning, there. fore, the judgment Of Addison that mo critical writer ** has ever pleased or been looked upom as authentie who did not show by his practice that he was master of the theory * seems obsolete. And the pity of it all is the author has made it clear by his other publications that he could have writtem a worthy book on English compositiom. Sed quis custodiet ipsos custodes ? Assuredly the time has come for the educated people of the community to express in no uncertain voice their disapprowal of ENGLISH STYLE. 319 gae], conditions. In the possessiom of what Emerson terms our great metropolitam English speech and of our English literature, \e are the frustees of a splendid and priceless treasure. It is our duty and our privilege to transmit it at least undisfigured and unimpaired to succeeding generations; While the few who are fitted for the task are bound to do what lies in their power tO increase that possessiom in volume and in charm. It is to be feared, however, that we are umable to render a Very. creditable account of our stewardship, and that our indifference to literary expression and to culture is but a symptom of much that is of evil import. As we have been directing our restless emergy towards com- mercial supremacy, made possible by laws which have perhaps beem too prodigal in their promotion and protection of industry, We have, in order to insure our success, east out of our life much of its composure and its true rewards; we have failed often to discerm the relative importance of things, or to appraise them at their real value; we have evem fallem short of mamy duties we owe to our meighbor and the State. As we have growm fat with material prosperity, we have starved ourselves spiritually. It will profit us much to exchange some of our “ praetical* aims and results for a few old-fashiomed standards of ideals and of conduct. Them, too, if it be not yet taught from the pulpit, it is be- gimming to be recognized that in the divine Order of the world there mever has been amd mever will be a place for the intervention of miracle or accident, amd it is reasonably certain that new be- liefs and readjustmemts will enter into our religious faith. We must seek out some compensatiom for the consequent loss. More and more, as these thoughts are brought home to us, the great books of literature, of which the Bible is supreme,—whether we regard their mever-failimg springs of intellectual joy, their lofty aspirations after truth and beauty, their deep insight into the perpleximg problems of the world Or their conception of right- eousmess—should come to occupy a revered place and assert a com- trolling influence in the lives of men. Nor ought we to consider our higher educatiom complete until a just appreciation of what is best in the classic authors has be- come part of it. As Mr. Woodrow Wilson said, in his inaugural address as President of Princetom University: - 320 THE NORTH AMBRIOAN REVIEW. “The classical literatures give us, in tomes and with an authentic accent we cam nowhere else hear, the thoughts of an age we cannot visit. They contain airs of a time mot our owm, umlike our own, and yet its foster parent. To these things was the modern thinking world first bred. In them speaks a time maîve, pagan, an early morning day when men looked upon the earth while it was fresh, untrodden by crowding thought, am age when the mind moved as it were without prepossessions and with an umsophisticated, childlike curiosity, a season apart during which those seats upon the Mediterraneam seem the first seats of thoughtful mem. We shall mot anywhere else get a substitute for it. The modern mind has beem built upom that culture and there is no authentie equivalent.” We must promote these, tendencies unless We are prepared to witness consequences that are for the benefit neither of ourselves nor of the Republie ; and to promote them we must be intolerant of such books as “ English Composition,* which with their con- fusion of expression persuade no one to a love and a reverence for letters. - For that which distinguishes great authors above their con- temporaries is the style of their work. That which gives even to Shakespeare his surpassing excellence is not only that intellectu- ally he was more perfectly equipped than all the goodly company of which he was a part, but also that he wrote with a nobility and splendor of expression which made him * not of am age, but for all time.” Great thoughts and great emotions find their true interpretation and are made manifest in the imfimite variety of the style of illustrious, creative minds, as the several strings of a musical in- strument are waked to harmony by the touch of genius. There is the Leit-Motif in letters as there is in music. Style is not Something separate and apart from literature, amy more tham, in the conception of the devout Worshipper, is God Himself a beimg outside of and aloof from the throbbing life of His universe. Style is not a mere ornamentation and adornment of the Writtem word, but its very soul; and it will find eloquent and persuasive utterance when, as though within a great temple, men shall have consecrated themselves anew to the spirit of culture. - JOSEPH S. AUERBACH. RESEARCH IN STATE UNIVERSITIES* B y I S R A E L C. R U S S E L L P R O F ES S O R OF G E O L O G Y IN THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN The word research, as used by scientific men, signifies study systematically carried on for the purpose of dis- covering that which is unknown. lt is the Seeking for new facts, new forces, new laws, and new ideas Without direct reference to their utility. The word re-Search has been chosen tO express this high aim, rather than the same root without the prefix, because in most instances explorations have to be repeat- ed, experiments performed again and again, and the ad- vances made in any direction scrutinized from many points of view before the conclusions reached are deemed Worthy of acceptance. The field of research is not restricted to the laboratory or the library, but is as wide as the universe. lt includes the Study of man as well as his environment. lt is es- sential alike to the growth of industries and the develop- ment of philosophies. ę Research, then, is the painstaking endeavor to increase the world's store of knowledge in any department of human thought. The Scope of Research: One of the most important re- sults of the modern development of industries, is the recognition of the fact that discovery is the main spring Of progress. This conclusion, although self- evident, does not seem tO have received the recognition it deserves. The Creed which needs to be repeated Over and Over again in the hearing of every intelligant human being, in order that still greater achievements may be accomplished, is that all man has gained which makes him the superior of the beasts Of the fields, has come aS a reward for in- creasing his knowledge of the Cosmos in which his lot is cast. The fact that progress depends on and is an out- come of human exertion, slhould stimulate and encourage *Read before the Research Club of the University of Michigan, January 20, 1904. 2 University of Michigam all mankind to strive to reach a higher plane. The end in view is the attainment of all possible knowledge, and the application of that knowledge to the increase of man's happiness, the lessening of his burdens, and the decrease of his sufferings. The goal on reaching Which man can say: The bounds of the knowable have been attained. and all possible wisdom is mine! is not in sight. So vast and intricate are the laws and pro- cesses of nature and of mind, that the Ultima Thule Of human endeavor will never be reached. But to approach and make nearer and nearer approximations to the mag- nificent ideal, like the alpine climber who seeks tO scale some cloud-encompassed peak, we need no other guide than the assurance that all ascending paths lead towardit. The uplifting of man by providing him with additional powers through research, may, as just suggested, be il- lustrated by the tasks that mountaineers set for them- selves. It is true that on a mountain's side all ascending paths Iead toward its summit, but some are impassable, others beset with extreme difficulties, and only one per- haps is practicable. The discovery of that way is the mountaineer's hope. Many fruitless efforts must be made, but at last some one climber, more skilled, stead - ier of nerve, or Stronger and more enduring than his companions, discovers the right way and others follow, guided and encouraged by his example and counsel The foremost mountaineer is an explorer. Following in his foot-steps but improving the path he has made and discovering side excursions from it, Others gain glorious alpine gardens, and traverse shimmering snow-fields never before pressed by human foot. In a similar manner among those who strive to make advances into the realm Of the unknown in other directions, some one investigator gifted beyond his fellows, inspired by a new idea, or discovering a new meaning in some well known fact, like the successfnl mountaineer, leads the way. When such an advance is made, Others are encouraged to fol- lOw and a new and wider view of nature is obtained. ReSearch im State Universities 3 The all important fact is that some one shall lead. Lead- ers in research have appeared from time to time and in increasing numbers as the importance of their services to , mankind have become more and more appreciated and the demand for an increase of knowledge more gen- eral. Some of the pioneers in research have been great- er than in others, but all alike have assisted in the great work of extending the boundaries of the known. The recognition of the fundamental importance of re- search has been slow, and resulted from the observed increase with its advance in material gains, enhanced comforts, greater effectiveness of labor, better health, and greater average length of life. As these and other similar results have been recognized, the demand for more knowledge, in order that still other forces might be utilized, has steadily increased, and never before in the world's history has this demand been greater than now. In a large view of human advancement research work in pure philosophy from which but little direct aid to in- dustry is perhaps furnished, must be reckoned fully as important as the discoveries of the chemist, the physicist and others, which are widely utilized in enhancing man's material welfare. The discoveries in relation to the flow of electricity, or the studies which furnished a knowledge of the properties of steam, great as have been the results of their application, it is safe to say, have been no more beneficial to the human race than the re- searches which made known the mode of development of plants and animals. Electricity and steam have fur- nished power for the moving of ponderous matter, but evolution has given a mental force which has profoundly modified the philosophies of all civilized peoples, and as there is no doubt will be a means of discovering many new truths in the future. Advance in philosophy, ethics, etc. is no less dependent on research than is the growth of manufacture or commerce. But no separation of purely intellectual and purely industrial development is permis- sible, since, as there is abundant evidence for proving, -4 University of Michigam progress in any department of human activity is followed by gains at Other pointS along the frontier of the domain of the known. - ■ The bounds of the knowable not yet reached: The in- centive which leads men to devote their time and energy to research is an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. The unknown has facinations which in all ages have awakened a response in the human breast. In the earlier stages of intellectual development, the mountains, the ocean, the caverns and Other but little known portions of the earth were peopled in imagination with gods, genii, and fairies, both genial and malign. When reason sup- plantS fancy and experiment undermines credulity, the Voices from the unknown becomestiIl more alluring. They lead the astronomer to explore distant space where he finds no limit; the geologist to trace backward the hist- ory of the earth without discovering a beginning; the chemist and physicist to scrutinize the laws governing matter and force without untangling all of their complex- ities; the archæologist, the historian, the philosopher, the socialist and Others to investigate man's estate and development only to find the records failing before the beginning of thought is discernable; the biologist to describe and classify the manifold ways in which life is encased and study the functions of bone, muscle, and nerve, only to learn that the longed for insight as to What life really is, recedes farther and farther as he ad- vances. Along these and many other tributaries of the river of knowledge explanations have been carried with- out reaching their Sources. On every hand and at no great distance, as shown by the explorations that have been made, the known merges with the unknown. This same conclusion can be indicated in another way: The rate and character of a change that is taking place is frequently indicated by means of a curved line, which shows graphically, perhaps an increase, a culmina- tion and a decline. By this means the rate at which hu- man knowledge has increased might be plotted but the ReSearch im Stafe UniversifieS 5 curve would fail to indicate a maximum and give no suggestion of a decline. The nineteenth century has been termed the “Wonderful Century”, and why? Be- cause during that century scientific discovery followed by invention, was carried on more systematically, more enthusiastically and by a larger number of skilled inves- tigators than during any previous century. The tide of discovery and invention which made itself prominent during the century recently closed, and increased in force as the years of that century increased in number, is still advancing and, aS it seems, with continuous acceleration. The intellectual tide- gauges of the world give no sug- gestion that the nineteenth-century wave of discovery has culminated. On the contrary, there is abundant evidence to show that the rate of intellectual develop- ment is still on the increase, and that yet more import- ant conquests in the domain of the unknown than have illuminated the past will be made in the future. On our graphic illustration of the world's progress, each year ex- . tends the curve upward. The Conclusion that the known is but a Small fraction in comparison with the unknown is perhaps startling, yet in view of the recency of numerous discoveries, and the increasing rate of the returns from more and more careful investigation, such seems to be the ratio of the sum total of man's knowledge to the possible discoveries of the future. To demonstrate this broad proposition, which iftrue is most stimulatingto human endeavor, facts might be presented from any department of knowledge. We are Saved the trouble of compilation in this connec- tion, however, by the timely appearance of Year Book No. 1 of the Carnegie Institution. The officers of the Carnegie Institution in seeking to learn how they may best apply the money placed attheir disposal, obtained assistance from various Advisory Com- mittees, Consisting of from one to six scientific ex- perts, and in several instances the committees themselves sought counsel from other leaders in research both in the 6 Universify of Michigam United States and foreign countries. The reports of the committees referred to, Cover 284 Octavo pages, and deal in a broad way with the problems awaiting investigation in several but by no means all departments of learning. Some of the directions in which, in the opinion of the members of the committees, profitable research work can be done, are enumerated below, but it is not practical to review the entire category at this time, and, besides in several important divisions the precise questions to be asked of nature are not formulated. From the reports mentioned, we learn that botanists are desirous of broadening their science in at least two directions: The first pertains to the relation of vegetation to envir- onment in the United States. ' In this connection, studies are suggested as to the function and effect of the forest in humid regions in reference to the influence of trees on atmospheric moisture, precipitation and run- off, and the converse effect On the forest; and also similar studies respecting the plants of arid regions, for which purpose the establishment and maintenance of a desert* botanical laboratory is advocated. - The Second recommendation of the Advisory Commit- tee on Botany is in referance to the carrying on of exten- sive botanical explorations in Central America and the West Indies for which Outline plans are presented. These are the only ways in which the Committee seems to have thought it expedient tO recommend the undertaking of research work by the Carnegie Institu- tion, but even a novice in the science of plantS can read- ily see that there are promising lines of work in many Other directions. The Advisory Committee on Physics outlines a broad plan for establishing a well equipped physical laboratory tO be devoted to research work in pure physics, With a corps of investigators, together with recommendations in reference to grants of money to be made to persons Research im State Universities 7 societies, etc. engaged in physical research, but does not outline the problems to be attacked. In reference to investigations pertaining to the earth, which are of mutual interest to both physicists and geolo- gists, the Advisory Committee on Geopysics, outlines some of the more prominent problems which demand immediate attention. . Among the salient questions pertaining to the earth's gaseous envelope or the atmosphere, are those of its ori- gin, its mass, mass-limitations, and its mass- distribu- tion, the potential atmosphere absorbed in the Ocean and in the body of the earth, its sources of depletion and en- richment, its function as a thermal blanket Over the sea and land, the possible changes in its diathermacy and the relations of these to great climatic changes togéther with many related problems that enter profoundly into the interpretation of the earth's past, and seem to have immense importance to the future ot the human race. In reference to the waters of the earth or the hydro- Sphere, the geophysicists desire an opportunity to inves- tigate its origin, mass and mass distribution ; the Con- stancy or variations in the volume of the ocean and changes in its level in relation to the land; the part which the water- mass plays in the changes ofthe form of the earth ; the origin, constancy, or variation of the Ocean's salinity and many other questions. Concerning the rigid outer portion of the earth or the lithosphere, the geophysicists would seek for information relating to the origin and maintenance of the continental platforms with their superposed mountains and plateaus, and of the Oceanic basins, involving questions of rigidity, distribution of pressures etc.; the agencies and condi- tions that make possible the prolonged periods of crustal quiescence recorded on the earth's surface by extensive plains produced by erosion; the nature and causes of the movements in the earth's crust which have produced crumplings and breaks or faults, and upraised mountains and plateaus, and are indicated also in a large way by 8 University of Michigam continentS and Oceanic basins; the breaking, shearing and folding of the rocks leading on to the general prob- lems of rock metamorphism, and a great group of intri- cate questions of a chemical and chemico-physical na- ture,including the flow of rocks, the destruction and gen- esis of minerals, the functions of included Water and gases, the flow of material within the earth, the origin of ore deposits, the evolution and absorption of heat, and other phenomena that involve the effects of temperature, pressure, tension and resultant distortion on chemical changes and mineralogical aggregations. Within the earth's Outer CruSt lies What is termed the cemfrosphere, concerning which the Advisory Committee on Geophysics state their desires as follows: The themes here are the kinds and distribution Of the lithic and me- tallic materials in the deep interior; the states of the matter; the distribution of mass and of density and the consequent distribution of pressure; the origin and dis- tribution of heat; the conductivities of the interior ma- terial under the pressure and heat to which it is subject- ed; the heat possibilities arising from supposed original gaseous condensation, or alternately from initial impact of aggregation; the heat of subsequent attractional con- densation ; the secular redistribution of heat within the earth, amd its loss from the surface; the possible rela- tions Of redistribution Of internal heat tO VOlcanism and tO deformation , and similar profound problems. Long as the above category of as yet unSolved prob- lems may seem, it by, no means exhaustS the lines of earth Study suggested to the Carnegie Institution as awaiting elucidation. Laboratory experiments are Outlin- ed in reference to the effect of pressure on the melting point of rocks carried on at high temperatures and pres- sures, and through a wide range of material; the effect of temperature and pressure on thermal conductivity and on elasticity, with reference especially to the transmis- sion through the earth of seismic tremors. Nor is this all; geophysical questions in reference to the relation of ReSearch im Sfate Universifies 9 of the earth to Other bodies in the solar system, such as the deformation Of the earth Owing to the attraction of the sun and moon, thus furnishing a means for testing its rigidity, the history of Oceanic tides and their influ- ence on the earth's rotation. These and other questions lead to still greater problems such as the origin of the solar system and even the genesis ot the stars. It is not desirable to weary my readers with a more extended exposition of our ignorance concerning the earth on which we live, as Outlined in the Year Book from which citatons have just been made, but I may perhaps be pardoned for mentioning that following the presentation of the larger problems referred to, comes a list of sixteen extensive groups of specific questions Which demand for their SoIutiOn the establishment and maintainance for a series of years of an extensive and well equipped geophysical laboratory. The immediate lesson illustrated by this catalogue of wants is: great as are the results of the geological studies already made, several chapters of the earth's history have yetto be written and nearly all of the chapters already in print need thorough revision. . ln the Year Book cited above, the desire for further knowledge on the part of geographers, meteorologists, chemists, paleontologists, Zoologists, psychologists, an- thropologists, bibliographers, engineers, physiologists, his- torians, mathematicians, etc., are outlined and in each de- partment the importance of pressing on with discovery is clearly and earnestly expressed. It will perhaps be a surprise to many persons, that in the recommendations for research work made to the Car- negie Institution, astronomy occupies more space than is assigned to any other science. Seventy-three pages are devoted to Outline plans of some of the ways in which the study of the heavens can be continued with the promise Of valuable returns. If the oldest of the Sciences has Such hopes for the future, su rely the outer boundary Of the knowable is far distant. 10 University of Michigam There is another point of view from which the magni- tude of the research work brought to the attention of the Trustees Of the Carnegie Institution, may be estimated. About one-half of the plans suggested by advisory com- mittees, are accompanied by estimates of Cost. This category— including estimates in several instances for laboratories, observatories, biological stations, endow- ments, etc. and running expenses for a period of five years—calls for an expenditure of about $16,000,000. The expense of all the investigations Outlined for a period of five years, may safely be placed at $30,000,- 000 or three times the present capital of the Carnegie Institution. In this connection it is to be remembered that the Institution does not propose to undertake any research already provided for by individuals, universities, societies, etc., but to supplement such work or cooperate in carrying it on. The plans to which attention have been directed are for investigations Over and above those already initiated or likely to be made without the aid Of the Carnegie Institution. And again, to some extent the work outlined is circumscribed by political limits and pertains to the United States. This brief showing of the problem already in view, will I think serve to sustain the statement made above, in reference to the Vastness of the realm Of the unknown which surrounds us on every side. To extend the limitS of the known in all the directions in which Scientific men are looking, would certainly require the resources of many Carnegie institutions, and the time and energy of many generations of investigators. ImcreaSimg difficulty of reSearch: In considering the aims of research and the means available for its en- couragement, the increasing difficulties in the way of discovery as knowledge increases, should be clearly rec- ognized. Not only this, but the tendency to feel that enough has been accomplished, or in other words, self- satisfaction, needs to be combatted. Contentmentis not the motto of the enquiring mind. ReSearch in State UniverSities 11 The close scrutiny, the hard and long continued work and the careful mental training required to continue making discoveries in an old field, is seemingly self- evident. In geographical explorations, the disCoverer of a new land has a virgin field before him, concerning which the most trivial notes are of value. As exploration progresses, however, and more and more is known con- cerning a newly discovered ]and, the problems to be attacked become more and more difficult, require deeper thought, better equipment and broader preparation on the part of the would-be discoverer. But old fields yield rich returns, even to the geographer, as is shown by the conspicuous advances made in physiograhic studies in the Older portion of America during the past decade. The increased difficulties Of discOvery as advances are made might be emphatically illustrated by any one of the older sciences. In astronomy, for examle, as every one knows, greater precision has demanded better instru- ments. While the moon yielded abundant returns when observed with the small telescope of Galileo; to resolve the distant nebulæ, measure the motions Of double stSrS and map the heavens, requires instruments of vastly greater power. To the work of observing and measur- ing, the astronomer has added the study of the physical condition and chemical composition of the matter compos- ing the heavenly bodies, measurements Ofthe heat emit- ted by the stars, etc., and in several divisions of his taSk assistance is had from photography. The increased ac- curaCy demanded and the broadening of the scope of astronomy, particularly by the addition to it Of spectroscopic work, has vastly augmented the expense of equipping and maintaining observatories, and also demanded greater and more varied preparation On the part of the men who explore the realm of distant space. The increase in the size and excellence Of the instru- ments required by astronomers, is well known. The great observatories are in sight and open to the public. The beauty and costliness of the modern telescope, So 12 University of Michigam complex with its many attachments that it might well be termed an astronomical engine, is apparent even to the casual observer. Both the interesting methods of obser- vation and the startling results of astronomical study, are described from time to time in newspapers and popular magazines. From these and Other Sources the growing needs of the astronomer as his work progresses, are at least recognized, and to a great extent appreciated by the public, and broad- minded citizens have in many in- stances contributed money freely for the betterment Of the tOOlS With which he workS. - The increase in size and in costliness of astronomical instruments and the broadening of the scope of astrono- my, are but an illustration of what has taken place and is increasing from day to day, in every department of human thought. The Chemist, physicist, biologist, mete- orologist, geologist, amd explorers who are following other paths of learning, are meeting with greater and greater difficulties and are demanding better facilities, in the way Of laboratories. collections, libraries, etc., as their work advances. These demands, although in many instances less obvious to the public than those of the astronomer, are none the less pressing, and fully as important. In each of these departments of research, and, as has been stated, in all branches Of knowledge, as advances have been made, greater and greater skill and more and more thorough preparation is necessary on the part of the per- Sons engaged in the work. To continue research and place in the hands of inventors, manufacturers, teachers and others still more efficient means for conducting their tasks, it is evident that communities in order to reap still greater harvests, must supply better and more ex- pensive equipmnet, and furnish still more efficient means for the training of the persons who do research work for them. • Recognitiom of the Imporfamce of ReSearch: In America three important steps in the recognition of research are marked by enduring movementS. These are: the Amer- ReSearch im Stafe ' Universities 13 ican Journal of Science, the first volume of which ap- peared in 1818, and which has continued to be a record of investigation to the present day ; the Smithsonian In- stitution, organized in 1846, which has for its motto, “The increase and diffusion of knowledge among men''; and the Carnegie Institution, established in 1902, which in the words of its generous founder has for its aim, “the securing for the United States leadership in the domain Of discOvery and the utilization of new forces for the ben- efit Of man.?' These three monuments mark not only the road of Scientific but of industrial advance in America, since the latter follows in the footsteps of the former. The aims df the Carnegie Institution, in particular, should arrest the attention of every so- called practical man, since they recognize a principle that is invading and revolutionizing industry in all of its many branches; namely, the sub- stitution of precise or scientific methods in place of “rule of thumb,'' and the seeking for Iegitimate gains by the application of original studies to the arts. In brief, it is becoming noised abroad that there is money in research. In referance to the growing appreciation of the value of research, a few illustrations may not be amiss. The recognition of the importance of research to the farmer is indicated by the work carried on at public ex- pense by the Department of Agriculture at Washington. Although the so- called practical and the application of discoveries already available, is the avowed aim of this well organized department by the government, yet (many contributions to pure science have been made in its eighteen sub-departments or bureaus, and at the fifty- six experiment stations under its general supervision and located in nearly every state of the Union. Research in pure science is a part of the work of the Weather Bur- eau, and of the Divisions of Chemistry, Entomology, Botany, Biology, Forestry, Soils, Public Roads, Animal Industry, etc., of the Department of Agriculture and supplemented by experiments in agriculture by nearly 700 14 Universify of Michigam men in the many Agricultural Experiment Stations. The results of the investigations carried on in these many re- lated fields of study, not only furnish direct aid to farmers throughout our broad land, but establish safeguards and quarantines about their pursuits, the money value of which can only be reckoned in millions of dollars annually. • The term “Chemical Industries'* applied to a large group of manufactures such as beet sugar, soda ash, Portland cement, etc., is a recognition ofthe factthat they are based On the research Work Of the Chemical labora- tory. But capitalists are no longer content tO await re- turns from the investigator who may chance to devote his time and energies to the special field in which their money is invested, but establish laboratories of their own and employ research workers who can point out ways of improving processes and enlarging factories. So great is this demand that our universities are being called upon to supply trained men by the score, who are able to orig- inate new methods as well as superintend work already in process. The recognition of the value of research in the factory is even more pronounced in Germany than On this side of the Atlantic, as is indicated by the fact that in that country a single chemical establishment employs continuously more than thirty doctors of sci- ence, the best the universities there can turn out, who devote their entire time to original investigations. As is frankly conceded in England and other Countries which are the industrial rivals of Germany, the marked en- largmentof her manufacturing industries in the past dec- ade, is directly due, as may be said for the sake of em- phasis, to her including brains among the raw materials used. Research in pure physics, as is well known, has led to the mobilization and training of industrial armies, which have built railroads, telegraph and telephone lines, laid Ocean cables, and erected wireless telegraphy sta- tions, and in numerous other ways aided transportation ReSearch im Sfafe UniversifieS 15 and intercommunication, and enhanced the comfortS and conveniences of everyday life. The direct economic value of research work in geology, is shown by the fact that nearly every civilized country, and many states and provinces within the limits of lar- ger political organizations, carry on geological surveys. The principal object of such surveys is to furnish assist- ance in the discovery of materials of economic importance such as building stone, coal, petroleum, iron, etc., but while this is largely routine work and the application Of knowledge already acquired, research work is necessary. at almost every step. To discover mineral substances of commercial value the far reaching laws governing the many ways in which such substances have been concen- trated, recrystallized, etc., so as to be available for man's use, have to be investigated. In recognition of the fact that the geologist has but entered on the exploration of the treasures of the earth, every national and state geo- logical survey favors research work in a high degree. A moment's thought will suffice to show that the few instances just mentioned in which research is fostered, do not stand alone. In medicine, hygiene, engineering, economics, and many other broad fields of activity the direct utility of seeking for more knowledge is appar- ent and widely recognized. These brief statements in reference to the growing recognition of the value of scientific discoveries, have been selected from a great number that might be presented, with the hope of making it clear that there is a demamd for reSearch me/7. Men are wanted who can not only conduct industries on long established methods, but who have the ability to originate new methods and discover and apply new principles, particularly in the way of doing cheaper and better that what is now being done and of utilizing that Which is now being wasted. Never before in the history of the world has the de- mand for intellectual leaders of industry been greater than at present. The direct material benefits to be de- 16 Universify of Michigam rived from the application of the forces Of nature tO human ends, are now more widely appreciated than ever before. With this appreciation goes a demand for fresh explorations and a thirst for the results of research that is most Stimulating and encouraging. To persons engaged in the business of education, these considerations must awaken the enquiry : How is this great and growing de- mand to be met? . - Preparatiom for research work. To a large extent, the men who have enlarged human knowledge have been men of genius— with a mental grasp stronger tham their fellows. Thousands of people saw apples fall to the ground before Newton formulated the law of gravity, but lacked the ability to deduct the cause from the effect. SO in all branches of learning some one man more gifted than his Contemporaries, has led the way into the un- known. Although genius is all important, even the man of genius must have training for his work, in order to make the best use of his exceptional endowments. Just what training is necessary is a difficult question to de- cide, especially for One who is not a genius, and not a specialist in the line of work for which a student is to be prepared. To a large extent the specially qualified or exceptional man, must decide for himself as to the mental equipment required for his individual work. The educa- tion of the exceptional man is a delicate task. ToO much training in the methods Others have followed may make him an imitator instead of a leader; toO little training, and he may fail to acquire the mental tools necessary in his particular line of work. The best that can be done by universities desirous of encouraging their sons and daughters of exceptional ability to make the most of their mental gifts, is seemingly, to furnish them with oppor- tunities to develop; to endeavor to train the body as well as the mind, to educate the hand as well as the head, to supply libraries, laboratories, and gymnasiums, to all who may be inclined to cultivate and develop the higher strains of inheritance or the special variations ReSearch im State Universities 17 latent in them. From the thousands who present them- selves for this arduous work, it is the duty of the univer- sity to select the few of exceptional ability and encour- age them to devote their lives to the task of carrying on research in the direction in which they are especially qualified. . - Once the exceptional man is discovered, the purely economic interests Of the community, if no higher prin- ciple, demand that he be assisted in every practicable way in carrying on his great work. Here again, the en- couragment of genius is a delicate task. Discovery means close application and long Continued and pains- taking work. The discoverer, as previously suggested, may be likened to a mountain climber. He must put forth his best efforts, deny himself many of the pleasures of life, and toil on for the most part alone, so far as intel- lectual companionship is concerned. He is but a man, however, and lavish emoluments may lure him to Walk in the customary paths leading through bowers of pleas- ure, to the neglect of the more rugged ways tending up- ward; toO little aid may leave his task so difficult that a great part of his energy will be Consumed in overcoming the difficulties Of mere existenCe. Both in the education of the thousands in Order that the exceptional man may be found, and in the assistance the university may in its Own interest extend to hiim as a research worker, the persons best qualified to act as trustees for the community are the men with sufficiently wide training and at least an appreciation of the higher and more enobling aims of discovery who are interested in similar lines of work. Such men are to a great extent included in the faculties of the higher institutions of learning. Committees from several such faculties, it is to be presumed, would be best^able to decide aS to what extent the men with new ideas or of exceptional ability, should receive financial assistance. The place of rcSearch in the university. In view of the several Considerations touched upon in the preceding 18 - University of Michigam pages—namely: the catholic aims of research; the nar- row bounds of the known; the fact that discovery is the all important initial step in applying the materials and forces of nature to man's use; the convincing evidence aS to the general and widely spread awakening among the leaders of industry in reference to the economic im- portance of fresh discoveries; and the growing recogni- tion of the fact that not only skill but originality pays— the question presents itself: What should be the attitude of communities and institutions of learning towards re- Search ? ln this connection communities and institutions of learning may be considered together, since many Schools, colleges and universities are supported by pub- lic taxation. Public schools, state colleges and state universitiés, SO far as is declared in the laws creating *them, are maintained for two principal reasons: first because edu- cation tends in a conspicuOus manner tO promote integ- rity, refinement, and all that speaks for good citizenship; and, second, to train students in various arts and profes- sions in such a way that they will be enabled to serve effeciently the communities in which they live. The recognized method of attaining these ends, to use a part of the motto of the Smithsonian Institution, is to diffuse hnowledge among mem. The frequently quoted ordinance passed by the Confederate Con- gress, in 1787, which records the planting of the seed from which the public school system of the United States has grown, reads: “Religion, morality, and knowledge being necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind, Schools and the means of education shall forever be encouraged.'' In this and, so far as I have been able tO learn, in all subsequent legistation bearing on public education, there is no direct recognition of the fundamental principle ex- pressed in the first clause of the Smithsonian's motto, namely, the increase of hnowledge, and found in the first of the declared aims of the Carnegie Institution, which Research in State Universities 19 reads, To promote origimal research, payimg greaf aftentiom thereto aS ome of the moSt importamf of all deparfmemfs. The proclaimed purpose of education has been and to a paramount degree still is, the transmission of know- ledge, without endeavoring to add to the assets of the bank on which drafts are made, or striving to train the student tO discover new truths for , himself. Teachers and professors in state schools, colleges and universities, so far as indicated by their contracts with the institutions they serve, are simply conveyors of knowledge previous- ly gained. In a few universities in America, it is true, chairs of research have been endowed by individuals, and in two notable instances, namely, Johns Hopkins Univer- sity and Clark University, institutions having research as their primary aim, have been founded by broad- mind- ed citizens. In the main and almost entirely, however, Such additions as have been made to the world's store of knowledge by teachers and professors, are due to their individual zeal and industry during hours not occu- pied by routine work in the lecture room or the laboratory. Admitting the argument sometimes advanced in justifi- cation of the neglect of research in state universities, namely, that the duties of such institutions are purely educational, and that they are not supported for the pur- pose of fostering research, the fact still remains that research is in itself a method of mental training of a high order and demands a place in our institutions of learning on account of its exceptional educational value. As stated by Sir Norman Lockyer in his recent Presiden- tial Address before the British ASSOciation for the Advancement of Science, reSearch is mow gemerally ac- hnowledged fo be the moSf powerful emgime of educafion that we poSSeSS. The inquiry into the secrets of the un- known necessitates not only rigid mental discipline on the part of its votaries, but is an incentive to exertion to a degree that no Other phase of education presents. Not even the desise for technical training in order that 20 University of Michigam pecuniary returns may be had, awakens such an ernest desire to know, or stimulates the student to such untiring diligence aS exploration in a chosen field. And, besides, in the present stage of the growth of knowledge in order to make fresh conquests, the investigator must become familiar with that which has already been accomplished along the path he is to follow, and at least have a work- ing knowledge of the languages in which the results reached by his predecessors are recorded, aS Well aS Some understanding of the departments of learning closely re- lated to his spedialty. The lesson to be read between the lines in these statements, is that research does not supplant Other means of education but supplements them and give them vitality. If the primary object of public education is the develop- ment of character and the making of good citizens, re- searce must from this point of view also be given a higher place than the mere following in the footsteps of others, since its sole aim is the discovery of truth. The inquiry for truth implies painstaking accuracy, the Searching criticism of one's own work and the seeking of criticism from others, the dissipation of false hypotheses, the cultivation of logical methods, fearless abandonment of long established prejudices, the acceptance of Conclusions based on oft-repeated ex- periments no matter how disturbing to former opinions, the discounting of mere authority, and Other ennobling attributes Of the mind. . In the several particulars just mentioned and more be- sides, the superior educational value of research over the mere acquiring of knowledge already formulated and re- corded in books, seem Self-evident. From the considerations briefly and inadequately pre- Sented on the preceding pages, at least two important conclusions may be drawn : one is, that research fur- nishes the only means man has of increasing his control over nature; and the other, that. in thus enlarging his sway he cultivates his own powers and enhances his ReSearch im State UniversifieS 2 1 chances of still greater advancement: Or stated in Other words: an increase in knowledge adds tO man's ecO- nomic resources and at the same time is an educational exercise which develops the higher faculties of the mind. The attitude that the state should hold toward research isthustwo fold ; firstto secure for her citizens a knowledge of the materials and forces of nature which can be utilized for increasing their comforts and enhancing their happi- ness; and second, to supply her students with an effi- cient means for developing their mental powers and awakening in them a consuming desire for the truth. This claim for the educational value of research, as already stated, does not imply the abandonment of pres- ent methods of education, but simply the adoption of another means Of attaining the desired end. While ob- servation should be encouraged at all stages of School and college life, Owing to the broad preparation necessary for true research, it cannot be expected that the student unless a genius, will be able to make independent in- vestigations before completing his college studies. The place for definite and final training in research must necessarily be in the university. Such training furnish- es the keystone which completes the arch of public edu- cation and finishes the structure begun in the grade schools, and must of necessity be fashioned and put in place in the university. Itis not until this is done that the university ceases to be a high school of larger growth. In each college of a university a few students are usually graduated each year who desire to Continue their studies and earn a master? S and later a doctor's de- gree. These few by a process akin to natural selection or the survival of the fittest, form a class by themselves and in general, owing to exceptional mental endowments, or more than ordinary diligence, are best qualified of all the sons and daughters of a university to become con- tributors to the world's store of knowledge, to enter the ranks of teachers, or to assume the duties of the learned professions. It is to the lives of these few that the 22 University of Michigam university looks for her greatest share of reflected honor, and the state for her highest grade of professional men. It is for the encouragement and advancement of these exceptional students who are to be intellectual leaders in after life, that the university may reasonably be asked to extend special consideration and assistance during the continuance of their graduate studies. This would seem to be the highest function of the uni- versity, not only because it encourages her best students to strive to attain the higher walks of intellectual life, but because in the process of discovering the man or woman of exceptional ability, all her sons and daughters are encouraged to advance to the highest plane their mental endowments permit them tO reach. The place for research work in the university is, then, at the close of the Courses of study pursued in her several colleges; that is, in the Graduate School to which only those students who have successfully passed their final college examinations and re- ceived the bachelor's degree, are admitted. The Graduate School might well be named and made in fact the School of ReSearch. Without such a School a group of colleges should not be classed as a university. As expressed by Hon. Seth Low, in an article on “Higher Education in the United States,** published in the Educational Review, “The work of the college isto teach that which is already known—the work of the university is, in addition to this, to enquire, to ascertain what lies beyond the line that marks the limit of the known.** In the School of Research, the leading idea being the de- velopment of originality, it is evident that the professors should be chosen from the ranks of those who have won distinction on account of their original contributions to the branch of knowledge in which they presume to serve as guides. In the School of Research, also, professor and student should be co-workers and mutually assist each Other. From such Comradeship, that intangible some- thing which is transmitted fröm person to person by ReSearch im State Universifies 29 association and contact, but cannot be written or spoken — we mayterm itinspiration, or personal magnetism, or per- haps the radium of the soul—is acquired by the student in a greater degree than at any previous time in his life after leaving the caressing arms of his mother. In the School of Research professor and student should have the time and facilities their work demands. From such schools, as may reasonably be expected, will come in the future the best trained men and women and the greatest contributions to human knowledge. Seemingly, all college bred men must recognize the demands of higher education, every captain of industry appreciate the commercial benefits flowing from an in- crease in knowledge, and every citizen see that the search for truth is the best method of enhancing morality and integrity and of elevating the human race. The in- terests of all . branches of society are thus primarily centered on research. There is a demamd that progress be made and that the utmost attainable bounds Of the knowable be reached. Demands of men trained in the law, in medicine, in engineering, etc., have led the trustees and regents of universities to establish and maintain professional schools, and not only the number of men entering the learned professions but their efficiency, has been increased there- by. As I have endeavored to make clear, there is also a demand which is urgent and pressing, for men who can carry on research work in pure science, and who are qualified to discover new facts, new laws, and new forces to be utilized in industry. This demand also de- serves to be met by our state universities, in order that the best possible returns may be made to the citizens Of a state who by taxing themselves support such institu- tions. While the direct economic returns to be expected from the establishment and adequate maintenance of re- search Schools at public expense, would amply justify such a course, such promises do not stand alone, as 24 UniverSify of Michigam research, to use the words of Lockyer quoted above, is the most powerful engine of education known. The undertakings of communities as is well understood, are formulated and guided by a comparatively few indi- viduals who see not only the immediate and tangible ends to be gained but the far- reaching influences that folkow. It is from these few informally appointed direc- tors of communities, that l venture to ask for due recog- nition of the fundamental importance of research, both as a means for- securing greater , eturns from commercial pursuitS and higher educational training in Our universi- ties. When these truths are fully appreciated and clearly expressed by the leaders of communities, the keystone will be placed in the educational arches states have erected, and the continued advance of our country and the attainment of a still greater degree of human ' happiness be assured. THE CLASSICAL JOURNAL VOLUME II DECEMBER 1906 NUMBER 2 THE CUES OF CAESAR IBy FRANCIS W. KELSEY University of Michigam In the last volume of the transactions of the American Philological Association* I presented Some consideratioms which seemed to warra,mt the conclusion that Caesar wrote the seven books of the Gallic War in the winter of 52—5I B. C., and gave to them, not the title familiar to us, but the title C. Iuli Caesaris commentarii rerum gestarum; that he composed rapidly, arranging the material by years, and referred back when necessary to preceding portions of the work by memory, for this reasom using “indefinite references (as ut, or ut ante, or ut supra demonstravimus; ut, or ut supra demon- stratum est) instead of the more definite references Ordinarily used by Writers who make a greater labor of composition and write more deliberately.” Since he avoided exact citation, he had no occasion to employ in his text a word referring to a book; in neither the Gallic nor the Civil War do we find liber or commentarius, though the latter word is used by Hirtius in his supplement to the Gallic War, which is printed in the editions as Book viii. The origina] title can be restored Only with the help of external evidence; but if Caesar's manner of composition was such as I have stated, some indications should appear in the text besides the indefiniteness of the references to earlier portions of the narrative. Such indications are to be found, I believe, in the cues by which the transitions are made from one book to another. * Vol. XXXVI (I9o5), pp. 2 II-38. 49 5o THE CLASSICAL JOURNAL All teachers of Caesar have probably noticed the mode of expres- sion by which, with sufficient variation of language to avoid the monotony of repetition, the opening sentences of the Second and following books of the Gallic War are so framed as to contain a distinct reminiscence of the last sentences of the preceding books. In order to make the matter more clear to ourselves, however, let us arrange the corresponding portions of the text in parallel columns, indicating the cues by means of italics. CAESAR'S GALLIC WAR IEND OF BOOK I Caesar una aestate duobus maximis bellis confectis . . . . in hiberna in Sequanos exercitum deduxit; hibernis Labienum praeposuit; ipse in citeri- orem Galliam ad conventus agendos profectus est. END OF BOOK II Quas legationes Caesar, quod in Ita- liam Illyricumque properabat, inita proxima aestate ad se reverti iussit; ipse . . . . legionibus in hiberna de- ductis in Italiam profectus est. Ob easque res ex litteris Caesaris dierum XV supplicatio decreta est, quod ante id tempus accidit nulli. IEND OF BOOK III Itaque vastatis omnibus eorum agris, vicis aedificiisque incensis Caesar exer- citum reduxit et in Aulercis Lexoviis- que, reliquis item in civitatibus, quae proxime bellum fecerant, in hibernis conlocavit. END OF BOOK IV Caesar in Belgis omnium legionum hiberna constituit; eo duae omnino civitates ex Britannia obsides miserunt, reliquae neglexerunt. His rebus gestis ex litteris Caesaris dierum XX suppli- catio ab senatu decreta est. EEGINNING OF BOOK II Cum esset Caesar in citeriore Gallia [in hibernis], ita uti supra demonstra- vimus, crebri ad eum rumores adfere- bantur, litterisque item Labieni certior fiebat omnes Belgas . . . . contra po- pulum Romanum coniurare obsidesque inter se dare. EEGINNING OF BOOK III Cum in Italiam proficisceretur Cae- sar, Ser. Galbam cum legione duodeci- ma et parte equitatus in Nantuatis, Varagros Sedunosque misit, qui a finibus Allobrogum et lacu Lemanno et flumine Rhodano ad summas Alpes pertinent. EEGINNING OF BOOK IV Ea, quae secuta est, hieme, qui fuit annus Cn. Pompeio M. Crasso consuli- bus, Usipetes Germani et item Tenc- teri magna cum multitudine hominum flumen Rhenum transierunt non longe a mari, quo Rhenus influit. IBEGINNING OIF BOOK V L. Domitio Ap. Claudio consulibus discedens ab hibernis Caesar in Italiam, ut quotannis facere consuerat, legatis imperat, quos legionibus praefecerat, uti, quam plurimas possent, hieme naves aedificandas veteresque refici- endas curarent. THE CUES OF CAESAR 5I IEND OF BOO]K V Hac re cognita omnes Eburonum et Nerviorum, quae convenerant, copiae discedunt pauloque habuit post id fac- tum Caesar quietiorem Galliam. IEND OF BOOK VI Quibus cum aqua atque igni inter- dixisset, duas legiones ad fines Tre- verorum, duas in Lingonibus, sex reli- quas in Senonum finibus Agedinci in hibernis conlocavit frumentoque exer- citui proviso, ut instituerat, in Italiam ad conventus agendos projectus est. IBEGINNING OF BOOK VI Multis de causis Caesar maiorem Galliae motum exspectans per M. Si- lanum, C. Antistium Reginum, T. Sexti- um legatos dilectum habere instituit. IBEGINNING OF BOOK VII Quieta Gallia Caesar, ut consti- tuerat, in Italiam ad conventus agendos proficiscitur. Ibi cognoscit de Clodii caede; de senatusque consulto certior factus, ut omnes iuniores Italiae con- iurarent, dilectum tota provincia habere instituit. In the first place, we observe that Caesar appears as the subject, expressed or understood, of the last or the next to the last sentence of each book; and Caesar is expressed as the subject of the first sentence of every book except the fourth, which has a special intro- duction on the Usipetes and Tencteri. Generally, moreover, the end of a book locates Caesar more or less definitely, and the following book opens with a corresponding reference to the location or situation. Thus the first book ends with Caesar On the way to Hither Gaul, the second begins with the time of his sojourn in Hither Gaul; the phrase in hibernis, which in the majority of the better manuscripts appears in the first sentence of Book ii, is apparently a scribe's careless repetition from hibernis in the last sentence of Book i, hence is bracketed in critical texts and usually omitted in school editions. The second book takes leave of Caesar as he is starting for Italy; the third resumes the narrative at the same point. The last chapter of Book iv represents him as just having established winter quarters in Belgium; in the opening sen- tence of Book v he is leaving the winter quarters for Italy. At the end of Book vi and the beginning of Book vii substantially the same words are found, referring to Caesar's trip to North Italy at the close of 53 B. C. in orderto hold Court. And in the transitions of the remain- ing books, though the local relations are less clearly indicated, we find cues that are almost as easily recognized. At the end of Book iii Caesar has placed his army “in winter camps,'° the context show- ing that more than one camp is meant; the narrative of Book iv begins by defining the time as “the winter which followed.” Equally 52 . THE CLASSICAL JOURNAL subtle, yet obvious, is the association of cues in the transition from Book v to Book vi; at the end of the fifth book Caesar found “ Gaul more quiet;” at the beginning of the sixth he is “expecting a greater agitation in Gaul.” In three of the six instances of transition between books, further- more, the opening sentence contains a reference which is understood Only when the context is read in connection with the closing words of the preceding book: ii, ita uti supra demonstravimus; iv, quae secuta est; and vii, ut constituerat. But it is not necessary to carry further the analysis of details, or to institute a comparison of the transition cues between books with the turns of expression by means of which Caesar maintains the connection between the smaller sections of his narrative, the parts of books. We have no reason to doubt that the division of the Gallic War into the seven books goes back to Caesar; and while we expect to find in all literary works of size, modern as well as ancient, a more or less graceful bridging of the gaps between the main parts, Caesar's transitions from book to book of the Gallic War are so characteristic that we may think our- selves justified in considering them a feature of his literary style. We may proceed, then, to use this stylistic peculiarity as a test or standard in examining the transitions of the books of the Civil War, in order to ascertain, first, whether similar cues are to be found, and, in the second place, whether their presence or absence throws any light upon the question of the division of this work into books. Leaving out of consideration the Alexandrian, Ajrican, and Spanish Wars, it will be convenient to place side by side, for purposes of comparison, the text of the end of Books i and ii, and the beginning of Books ii and iii, of the Civil War as this is divided in the editions. CAESAR'S CIVIL WAR IENID OF BOOK I Parte circiter tertia exercitus eo biduo dimissa duas legiones suas antecedere, reliquas subsequi iussit, ut non longo inter se spatio castra facerent, eique negotio Q. Fufium Calenum legatum praefecit. Hoc eius praescripto ex His- pania ad Varum flumen est iter factum, atque ibi reliqua pars exercitus dimissa est. EEGINNING OF BOOK II Dum haec in Hispania geruntur, C. Trebonius legatus, qui ad oppugnati- onem Massiliae relictus erat, duabus ex partibus aggerem, vineas turresque ad oppidum agere instituit. THE CUES OF CAESAR - 53 IEND OF BOOK II Quorum cohortes militum ante oppi- dum Iuba conspicatus, suam esse praedicans praedam, magnam partem eorum interfici iussit, paucos electos in regnum remisit, cum Varus suam fidem ab eo laedi quereretur neque resistere EEGINNING OF BOOK III Dictatore habente comitia Caesare consules creantur Iulius Caesar et P. Servilius; is enim erat annus, quo per leges ei consulem fieri liceret. His rebus confectis, cum fides tota Italia esset angustior neque creditae pecuniae sol- auderet. Ipse equo in oppidum vectus verentur, constituit, ut arbitri darentur. prosequentibus compluribus senatori- bus, quo in numero erat Ser. Sulpicius et Licinius Damasippus, paucis [die- bus], quae fieri vellet, Uticae constituit atque imperavit diebusque post paucis se in regnum cum omnibus copiis recepit. That the transition from Book i to ii of the Civil War has nothing in common with the manner of transition between the books of the Gallic War may be seen at a glance. Even the appearance of His- pania at the end of Book i and the beginning of Book ii forms an apparent, not a real, exception, for the use of haec in the first sentence of Book ii, referring to events narrated at the end of Booki, indicates a much closer connection of thought than appears in the relation between the corresponding parts of any other two books. The form of expression adopted in Dum haec in Hispania geruntur is in Caesar's writings typical, if not stereotyped, and is invariably used to effect a transition between the minor Sections of the narrative, hence in the best editions generally marks the beginning of a para- graph; examples are B. G. iii. I7. I, Dum haec in Venetis geruntur; vii. 37. and 42. I, Dum haec ad Gergoviam geruntur; vii. 75. I, Dum haec ad Alesiam geruntur; B. C. i. 56. I, Dum haec ad Ilerdam ge- runtur. In the last case the connection between the end of chap. 55, and the beginning of chap. 56, is no closer than that between the last sentence of Book i and the opening sentence of Book ii; on grounds of style and connection it is not easy to see why the end of Book i may not just as well be at the end of chap. 56 as of chap. 87. But we shall return to this topic later. The transition from Book ii to Book iii is of an altogether different character. Book ii ends with the disastrous campaign of Curio in Africa, and the closing sentences with consummate literary art, by 54 THE CLASSICAL JOURNAL means of a few bold touches, show how the victory over Caesar's hapless lieutenant meant the temporary ascendancy of the arrogant and vindictive Juba, with the shedding of Roman blood ruthlessly by barbarian bands. With the opening of the third book the scene changes. There is a brief introduction of five chapters outlining the military situation at the end of the year 49 as a prelude to the account of the campaign of 48 to which the rest of the book, Io7 chapters, is devoted. In this introduction we have in chaps. I and 2 a statement in regard to the actions and plans of Caesar, in chaps. 3 to 5, a summary of the preparations of Pompey for the final struggle; chap. 6 begins the narrative of the campaign with Caesar's ad- dress to his soldiers at Brundisium and his setting sail for Epirus “on the day before the nones of January” 48 B. C. That the real or solar date of the departure for Epirus was in the first week of November, 49, according to the corrected calendar, has no bearing upon Our inquiry; for, in arranging his material by years, Caesar naturally adopted the official, not the solar, year as his chronological unit. . At the beginning of this special introduction to Book iii we find the names of the consuls for the year 48; for that is the year desig- nated as is annus, ten years having elapsed since Caesar's first consulship in 59, SO that his secOnd consulship to this extent had the sanction of the old law by which (Liv. vii. 42. I) cautum ne quis eundem magistratum intra decem annos caperet; and his name is given as Iulius Caesar instead of Caesar because it is mentioned in an official connection. While we discern no cue to bridge the gap between Books ii and iii, we nevertheless observe a generic resem- blance between the special introduction at the beginning of Book iii and that which is prefixed to Book iv of the Gallic War. The two introductions are of about the same length; the latter contains 79 . lines, the former 89, in the text of Kuebler. Both begin with the names of the consuls of the year in which the events of the following narrative fall; and while the totally different character of the subject- matter necessitated a different treatment, so that a detailed com- parison of the two introductions would be barren of results, it is easy to recognize in them a similarity in respect to point of view, grasp, and perspective. Both impress one as Caesariam, and as designed THE CUES OF CAESAR 55 for precisely the places which they occupy, at the beginning of books. There is then no good reason to doubt that the third book of the Civil War retains its original compass; at any rate we may rest secure in the belief that the division between it and the preceding book has from Caesar's time been where it appears in the editions. The character of the transition from Book i to Book ii, however, when contrasted with the other transitions between books, may well pro- voke inquiry as to whether there is other evidence bearing upon the division between these two books; and such evidence is not lacking. Students of Caesar have frequently remarked that Books i and ii of the Cavil War differ from all the other “commentaries” in this, that the two together cover the events of a year. But Hirtius expressly tells us that Caesar wrote a separate “commentary” for each year (B. G. viii. 48. Io, Scio Caesarem singulorum annorum singulos commentarios conjecisse); and he feels called upon to explain why he includes the events of two years (5I and 5o B. C.) in a single “com- mentary.*' When he was writing this book he had not only Caesar's Gallic War, but also the Civil War, before him; in his prefatory letter to Balbus he says, in effect, that he has filled in the gap in Caesar's writings; that is, the gap between the “commentaries” of the Gallic and those of the Civil War.* Had Caesar himself split up the narrative of the events of the year 49 into two books, it is reasonable to suppose that Hirtius would either have modified the statement just quoted, or would have put somewhat differently his apology for departing from a plan of Caesar's which Caesar himself On this supposition had disregarded. But again, the narrative of Books i and ii is continuous, and curiously interlocked, in a manner corresponding with the wide range and complication of the military operations described, which were in part synchronous. It is not worth while to give here an outline of the events of the two books in their order of narration; let us rather group the military operations and note the chapters in which they are treated. I Cf. ** Hirtius' Letter to Balbus and the Commentaries of Caesar,'° in Classical Philology, Vol. II, No. I. 56 THE CLASSICAL JOURNAL CONTENTS OF CAESAR'S CIVIL WAR, BOOKS I AND II Introduction: Outbreak of the Civil. War Book i, chaps. I-7 I. The Campaign in Italy: Ariminum to Brundisium, Rome i. 8-33 2. Siege of Massilia i. 34—36, 56—58 ii. I-I6, 22 3. Operations in Spain i, 37-55, 59-87 11. I7-2I 4. The Campaign of Curio in Africa ii. 23-44 If Caesar had resolved to abandom his plan, elsewhere consistently carried out, of devoting a single “commentary” to the events of each year, and to set forth the events of the year 49 in two books, it is not easy to see why he should not have brought Book i to a close at the end of chap. 33, SO as to include the interlocked narrative of the operations in Spain and about Massilia all in Book ii, which with the campaign of Curio would still have been considerably shorter than Book iii. From the point of view of the contents, the division of matter between Books i and ii seems singularly infelici- tous, and inconsistent with Caesar's standard of literary workman- ship. • As Birt has shown, in his monograph Das antike Buchwesen, in antiquity the size of the books of a work was governed by certain conventions and in the same work, unless there were good reasons to the contrary, the books were of approximately the same length. In the Gallic War the books vary greatly in length, because Caesar adhered rigidly to the annalistic principle of arrangement and the events of some years required fuller treatment than those of others. Assuming that he discarded this principle of arrangement whem he wrote the earlier part of the Civil War, we should expect to find him so dis- tributing his matter that the books, in accordance with the current convention, would be of nearly the same size. The lengths of the three books as given by Birt (op. cit., p. 329) in standard lines are as follows: i, 1,913; ii, I, II6; iii, 2,7Io. The irregularity in respect to size is noteworthy. But assuming that the usual division THE CUES OF CAESAR 57 of the matter of Books i and ii is Wrong and that originally these were one, we see that the single “commentary” thus composed would contain 3,o29 lines, Only about 3oo lines more than the present Book iii; the former as well as the latter would fall within the norm designated by Birt as “grösseres Format.” In view of the character of the transition from one book to the other, the close relation of the contents, and the size, it is hard to avoid the inference that Caesar wrote what are now Books i and ii of the Civil War as a single “commentary.*' But there is also external evidence. In one of the best manuscripts of Caesar, Codex Ashburnhamianus, now in Florence, while the seven books of the Gallic War are numbered i to vii, and the “commentary” of Hirtius is numbered viii, liber nonus* appears at the beginning of the Civil VVar and the text continues without a break to the end of what is now Book ii, Book iii of the editions being numbered x. Since this manuscript was described by Stangl in Philologus in I886 (Vol. XLV, pp. 2I3-2o) the view has been maintained that this numbering of books, of which traces appear also in a couple of inferior manu- scripts, reflects an early arrangement of the Caesarian corpus. It confirms the conclusion that the Civil War as left by Caesar consisted of two “commentaries,” of which the first contained Books i and ii of the editions, and the second corresponded with our Book iii.* This conclusion is by no means inconsistent with the view held by many that the “commentaries” of the Civil War were unpublished at the time of Caesar's death; but it cannot be reconciled with the opinion that the manuscript as he left it contained no division into books, the division into two as into three books being later and entirely arbitrary.3 The manuscript of the Civil War was incom- plete and had not received its final revisiom; it may have been a I Cf. Chatelain, Pal. des class. lat., I, pl. 5o A. 2. 2 The limits of this paper do not permit us to discuss here the transition from the end of the second “ Commentary” (now Book iii) of the Civil War to the Alexan- driam War in the light of the hypothesis advanced by Zingerle (Wiener Studiem, XIV, pp. 75—II9) that the first twenty-one chapters of this work are from the hand of Caesar. It is obvious, however, that this transition conforms in type to those of the Gallic War (end of Book iii, Haec initia belli Alexandrini fuerunt; beginning of Alexandrian War, Bello Alexandrino conflato), and so far may be reckoned as evidence in favor of Zingerle's view. 3 Cf. Schanz, Gesch. der röm. Lit. I2, p. 2o4. 58 *. THE CLASSICAL JOURNAL draft prepared by an amanuensis from dictation. But the mind of Caesar was marvelously keen and logical; and a fuller analysis of the two “commentaries” of the Civil War, divided in the manner indicated, will only confirm the impression that, whether they were committed to writing by the dictator himself or by an amanuensis, they were thought out and composed as separate units, cast in the same mold as the “commentaries” of the Gallic War. The cues of the Gallic War are significant as heightening the impression of the unity of the work. They are a natural form of transition between books for one who writes rapidly and consecu- tively; had the books of the Gallic War been composed in different years and published separately, it is inconceivable that they should have been so artfully joined. It is not impossible that the less care- ful joining of the beginning of Book iii of the Civil War with the end of the preceding book may reflect haste and the interruptions in the midst of which those books must have been composed. % \ Report on Courses of Study in English for Public Schools Reprinted from the ScHooL REVIEW for November, 1 9o3 REPORT ON COURSES OF STUDY IN ENGLISH FOR PUBLIC SCHOOLS.* I. THE PRIMARY AND THE LOWER GRAMMAR GRADES. IN preparation for the reports that we are about to prcsent, it was necessary to obtain from superintendents of schools and school boards much help in the way of printed directions for the teachers under their supervision. Mr. Horne, therefore, wrote . to a great many officials for the needed assistance, which, when able to do so, they very kindly gave. We are glad at this time to acknowledge our indebtedness to them and to thank all who have responded in any way to our request for courses of study in English. * Applications for such courses for elementary schools were met in various ways; sometimes they were granted with the state- ment that they were not wholly satisfactory ; sometimes they were in process of revision ; often there were none available. The following report is based upon the study of seventeen courses in English which came from cities or large towns repre- senting four of the New England states. Three — A, B, and C — gave time schedules for the work in English. A allows per week: Hours Minutes Grade I O 4O I I 2 I O - II (with I hour for geography) I I I O III (with 2 hours for geography) I I 2O IV, V, VI (with 2 hours for geography, I hour for history) B allows per week: Hours Minutes Grade I 5 2O I I 3 25 II I3 . . . III 9 es ę IV, V 8 3O VI * Read at the annual meeting of the New England Association of Teachers of English, Boston Latin School, I9o3. 746 ÆÆÆORT ON COURSÆS OA7 S7TUDY VAV AENGLISH 747 In Grades I, II, III English includes elementary science and geography ; in IV, V, and VI it includes history. C allows per week: *. IHours Mimutes Grade I I 3O I, II I I e ę III I O • • IV, V, VI History does not appear as a separate study until Grade VII. C gives five fifteen-minute periods a week each to writing and spelling till Grade VIII; in VIII, two; in IX, one. - Any of the schedules quoted might satisfy the demands of a good course. Perhaps the best is B, the one that gives I 5, I 3, and I 3 hours, respectively, to grades I, II, and III, even though the average for all the grades is less than that of, A; since the large proportion of time given to the primary classes tends to a thorough foundation upon which to build later, and thus brings about a saving of time in the lower grammar grades. All courses examined provide for oral expression: in the reproduction of stories told by the teacher, of lessons upon all subjects, and of pärts of the literature read to the children or read by them ; in conversations conducted by the teacher; in original statements of truth discerned by the children through the senses ; in the relation of their own experiences. They provide for the correction of mistakes, whether of enunciation, pronunciation, misuse of words, or false syntax. They pre- scribe, also, written expression, which demands: learning to write (in one instance the “medial" hand is required), to spell, to syllabicate, to use capitals and marks of punctuation, to indi- cate the beginning of a new paragraph; the learning of many abbreviations is advocated, and also of many contractions. Copying and writing from dictation are generally regarded as important exercises. Lessons are to be reproduced in writing; also stories told or read by the teacher. Letters are to be written, and sometimes themes. Thirteen of the seventeen courses prescribe grammar, but there is a diversity of opinion as to when work in grammar shall begin. Two say “parse" in the seventh grade (this implies an 748 7 AVÆ SCÆVOO /, K Æ VVÆ VV earlier study of the subject); one, “ formal grammar in the • higher grammar grades.” One would begin the study in the latter half of the fifth grade ; two, in Grade VI; one, in Grade VII. Three advocate the introduction of The Mother 7omgue, Part I, by Miss Arnold and Professor Kittredge in Grade IV; another delays its use till Grade VII (apparently demanding a mastery of the book in that grade), and orders the beginning of formal grammar in Grade VIII. - With regard to reading matter judgments differ. *' Readers'' are always recommended for primary grades, generally in fairly good variety. One course that is strong in literature discards *' readers'' after Grade III; another, after Grade IV; a third, after Grade VII. Miss Cyr's Readers are favorites ; a few courses are not afraid to include The Heart of Oak books edited by Professor Norton. Supplementary reading is usually good, so far as it goes, but often narrow, being too exclusively Ameri- can. One course, however, mentions Shakespeare for the eighth grade. Another, still bolder, prescribes A Midsummer Vight's Dream and As You Like It for the seventh. In most cases part of the reading is done by the teacher ; this is highly com- mendable, but in one place, where pupils “begin to parse'' in Grade VII, the teacher is to read books that the children ought easily to read themselves. In another town, where parsing is in vogue, literature takes less time than so-called language. Several courses require some study of the lives of authors even in primary grades. All courses provide for the learning of poetry, some, however, going so far as to prescribe exactly what poem shall be learned in each grade. The generous allowance for English in the time schedules quoted is gratifying; moreover, it certainly is wise to regard the beginnings of elementary science, geography, and history as part of the work in English, if for no other reason than that they give occasion for conversation, the natural means by which we learn to speak a language. Little children come to our schools at five years of age (most of them ought not to come before they are seven) with vocabu- laries appropriate to their home life; Some with very queer ÆÆAPORT OAV COURSES OÆ STUDY /ΛV ÆAVG LVSÆ. 749 vocabularies, others with very good ones. In most cases no one has taken pains to teach the children; they have learned by imita- tion. They will cofitinue to learn in the same way; hence the new surroundings of the school, with its ordinary routine, will present ample occasion for development in oral language, if only the teacher, herself worthy of imitation, has the happy gift of inspiring confidence, and wisdom enough not to repress thought and feeling for the sake of form. If thought and feeling become beautiful, some day they will find adequate expression. It is, however, quite necessary not to put stumbling-blocks in the way of the little ones. The teacher serves as her pupils' model dur- ing school hours, and is quoted as an infallible authority after- wards; yet in, primary grades stereotyped forms of expression known only in the schoolroom are in too constant use. Nowhere else would you hear, “Tell me the story of five birds and three birds," with the hope of getting “ Five birds and three birds are eight birds” for the response. “What is busy work ?” asks the uninitiated. “ What do you mean by gems?” Plans to secure free, idiomatic English will not avail while the school weekly gives its sanction to such misuse of words. . - Again, the school offers models to children in the little books they read; yet how few lessons in “ First Readers" are excellent in unity and sentence structure, to say nothing of vivacity ! The Heart of Oa books, containing the foundations of literature, are not as widely used as they deserve to be, even though there is no better way of learning pronunciation and idiom than through good old nursery rhymes and tales, not twice-told, but told again and again for years, yes for generations. In early stages of the studies of geography and history there comes a time when books of information are read in class. Unfortunately, these books are too seldom written by men of such literary ability as Professor Tarr and the late beloved master, John Fiske. Hence, in plan- ning our courses we must guard with jealous care the periods that belong to literature. No book that may not claim its place among works of art should be read during the reading hour on any pretext whatever. - - On the principle made , popular by Froebel, “learning by 75o - 7THÆ SCHOOL Æ Æ VVÆ PV doing," letter-writing deserves more attention than it receives in many courses. One goes through the tedious process of learning to write, to spell, and to punctuate that he may communicate d with some friend beyond the reach of his voice. Here is an honest incentive to careful written work; moreover, the personal element gives life to composition. Partly for this • reason we would begin the simplest letters in the last term of even the first year; partly because so many children never go beyond the sixth grade that it is unsafe to delay teaching simple business forms in that grade, and there should be plentiful opportunity for writing letters of friendship before business forms are taught. A large proportion of the work in composition may well be carried on in the form of letters throughout both elementary and grammar courses for training in honest authorship, which training must by all means be thorough from the beginning. To enforce the principle just stated, themes in all grades should be based upon the observation, or experience of the writer. A sharp distinction must always be made between a mere reproduction and an original piece of composition. - • There appears to. be a tendency to teach English grammar but usually of a very rational kind. The diversity of opinion as to when it should be taught seems to indicate the necessity for discussion. No one doubts the educational value of the study of grammar. The questions concerning the matter that one would like to answer wisely are: (I) When is it needful from a practical point of view? (2) When does it become advis- able in the development of mind and character? (3) How does it compare with composition and reading in fitting boys and girls for life? The mere getting ready for the high school, and event- ually for college, is not to be considered, first, because the many must not be sacrificed to the few; secondly, because (despite the complaints) it is quite fair that the teacher of Latin should have virgin soil. Surely his subject is far easier from the point of view of grammar than is English. Instead, then, of teaching English grammar that Latin may be more readily understood, would it not be wiser to teach Latin, thoroughly so far as it goes, in the sixth or seventh year, as the source of the classical ele- A ZAOR 7 OAV COURSES OA STUDY /Λ/ ÆΛ/GZ/SA/ 75 I ment in English, as well as to give some training in the science ' of language? The knowledge of even a little Latin may become ' useful in working out the meaning of a large number of com- monly used words, literary rather than colloquial, and thus may help to make reading more enjoyable. - We omit formal English grammar from our list of studies, not from any lack of respect for the science of language, but because we feel that it should come later in life, and because the teach- ing of grammar, necessarily decreasing the amount of time to be given to literature, defrauds the vast majority of the most impor- tant part of their training in English. . When Helen Keller was still without language, she was almost unmanageable; with language came the sweetness of spirit which in childhood was her greatest charm. The explanation, I think, is this: an adequate means of expression, and the ability to enter into the life around her, set her soul free. . The freeing of the spirit—this always is the high function of language. Says Wordsworth of a sad thought that oppressed him : - . A timely utterance gave that thought relief and I again am strong. But, as in all phases of life the few find freedom in leading, the multitude in following, so it is with language. The few say great 'things in a great way ; the many hear; in each case the spirit may enter into a larger life and find nobler expressión. Since we deal with the multitude in our elementary schools, the empha- sis of our training in language should be put upon that part of the work which tends to make appreciative followers of great leaders ; in other words, upon the reading of good literature. To teach the child of ignorant or illiterate parents to read, and not to give him good taste in literature, is to give that “little knowledge'' which “is a dangerous thing.” - • A good course in English, then, will provide time and oppor- tunity for learning to enjoy good books. To this end, not less than half an hour every day in the week, every week in the year, every year in the course, should be faithfully devoted to reading aloud for pleasure. In the primary and lower grammar grades, the teacher must always do this reading ; in the upper grades, the better readers among the pupils may take their part. Pos- 752 • • . • . 7THÆ SCHOOL AREVIAE VV . sibly now and then a question may arise, as it will when friends read together some delightful book; but in no respect is the reading to be regarded as a task. There is to be no reproducing of what is read, unless a voluntary one, as when a child has been absent and another tells him what has happened meanwhile in the story. During this period sometimes it would be well for the chil- dren to have books, that they might follow with both ear and eye; at other times - it would be better if their hands were employed with some easy work, as sewing, knitting, making hammocks, basket-weaving, or whatever may be done quietly and almost automatically. - - • A generous list 6f books must be provided from which the teacher may select what at any time may best meet the needs of her class. - - In several of the courses examined, a study of the author's life is prescribed. But little time should be thus spent— only enough to establish the idea that what gives us pleasure has cost abstinence from self-seeking and honest labor, and therefore inspires grateful affection. - « Concerning the learning of poetry by heart, a word of caution seems necessary. From the language used in speaking of this work, one is not always quite sure what is to be learned, whether mere scraps of verse or whole poems as artistic unities. If the former, it is worth very little ; if the latter, its value cannot be overestimated. In connection with this work, properly con- ducted, the power of choice should be trained; hence prescrib- ing exactly what shall be taught in each grade is a grave mistake —a mistake so serious as to tend to defeat the end for which the work is done. We must have such teachers as we can trust to introduce the children to such masters as they may follow. Our courses in English generally are so planned as to devote more time to artificial striving after form than to the presenting of the only sure means by which good form will come. “ Reading maketh a full man, writing an exact man.'' I wonder when the Greeks began to study their language as such. Certainly not before the age of mythology ; certainly not before Homer's day. - MARY C. MooRE. A AeAORT ON COURSES OF STUDY IN EAWGLISH 753 II. THE UPPER GRAMMAR AND THE HIGH-SCHOOL GRADES. I wish to add my thanks to Miss Moore's for the many responses received in answer to the request for copies of “courses of study.” In all over one hundred requests were sent out. From the literature received, many valuable suggestions have CO me tO uS. * In considering the grammar and the high-school courses of study, I wish to: say, first of all, that I heartily indorse Miss Moore's suggestion and recommendation for the work prepara- tory to the grammar courses. Undoubtedly all schools cannot send pupils to the grammar grades with the same preparation. But to enter the grammar grade the pupil should be fairly well equipped with vocabulary, and with the elementary principles of sentence structure, of paragraphing, punctuating, and capitalizing. The grammar courses submitted for consideration all provide for oral expression, written work, grammar study, memorizing selections, and a varying range of reading in literature, “ Read- ers'' as such, with few exceptions, seem no longer to be used. I question if many of the books put down by Some schools for class study ought not to be put in the list of books to be read outside of the class. Tanglezwood 7ales, Little Mem, Little VVomem, Æab amd His Friends, Through the Looking' Glass, etc., seem to me better adapted for the fireside than for the school. The reading aloud spoken of by Miss Moore for the lower grades should be continued throughout the course. Only in the grammar and high schools the reading can more frequently be done by the pupil. The ability to stand upon one's feet and to read well is an accomplishment all schools should strive hard to teach. Pupils should be encouraged to read aloud at home. In no better way can clear enunciation and pronunciation be effected. Then, too, I wish to emphasize again Miss Moore's statement that in no respect must the reading be regarded as a task, but cultivated as a pleasure. To this end the suggestion that during the reading aloud the hands of the listeners be employed with some easy work, deserves adoption in the higher schools as well as in the lower grades. - 754 7THVÆ SCAHVOO Z ARÆ VVÆ VV In the earlier grades of the grammar school various con- clusions are suggested from the circulars received. I quote a a few: Constant attention should be given to form. Careless or loose writing must be discouraged. A few clear sentences, well . written, punctuated, capitalized, and well paragraphed, are better than many pages carelessly composed or poorly written. Each pupil should be required to look over and correct his work before handing in his paper. No other way of helping develop correct forms of writing is better than dictation. But in this scheme the teacher must prepare carefully the exercise and follow out a gen- eral plan for the whole. The parts to be emphasized must be determined. Sentences illustrating the principles can be studied. Then the dictation can follow, and, by comparison, errors in capi- talization, punctuation, and paragraphing can be corrected and the general principles easily mastered. Equally true is the value of letter-writing. As soon as the child can form letters, either print or written, he is advanced enough to take his first lesson in letter-writing. And letter- writing should be carefully kept before the pupil each year, beginning with Grade I and ending only with graduation from the high school. In the eighth and ninth grades, and in some cases in the seventh, the study of words and sentences with parsing and analysis is taken up. This is commendable, provided not too much importance is placed upon the dry bones of grammar. The very best teachers of the school should be the teachers of English, and they alone can determine whether the study of English be a pleasure or a nightmare. The good teacher in English grammar makes the study pleasant and profitable for the class. The poor teacher wearies himself and does not aid his pupils. - While no absolute rule can be laid down, many schools have found the interests of their classes best served in the seventh grade in emphasizing, with some text-book as a basis of sugges- tion, the following points : conversation on many subjects ethical and literary, together with current events and current topics; dictation to test all technical work taught; letter- writing; repro- a. A ZAOR 7 ON COURSES OF STUDY /w EAVGZ/SA 755 duction of stories read, also of geography, history, nature work, and literature studies; the principles of narration and description emphasized by written and oral work ; committing to memory choice selections, both prose and poetry; the study of words and of sentences. In Grade VIII the same work developed, together with the study of word-building, inflection, synonyms, and anto- nyms; an outline taught for the development of the subject; business forms and correspondence in connection with the arith- metic. In Grade IX, besides the above, greater discrimination in the choice of material; special attention to the construction of sentences and to analysis; constant practice in narrative and descriptive writing. I wish here to emphasize the importance of the early study of Latin. The grammar grades ought to take up this work and English grammar taught largely through the medium of the Latin. The study of English grammar as such is often irksome, but under the guise of Latin it is pursued with increased interest. If the study of Latin could be introduced into the seventh grade and treated as a study of grammar, much valuable time would be saved, a deeper interest would be aroused and maintained; the pupil would have a more exact and comprehensive view of English grammar when he entered the high school or academy, and the efficiency of the high-school work in the first year would be greatly increased. For the large number of pupils whose school days end with the grammar school this preliminary train- ing in Latin would be exceptional. But if ILatin cannot be studied in the grammar school, the outline of work already pre- sented can be used with profit. Moreover, the teacher of English can emphasize word-building, roots, prefixes, and suffixes, the Latin element in the language, and the simpler constructions of the Latin sentence. I wish to emphasize the statement that the study of grammar — the different parts of speech, sentence structure, use of capi- tals, punctuation, etc.— does not belong to the high school. Many of the schools do have this work in the first year of the high school, but I think that it belongs to the grammar grades. But literature and composition have equal importance in the 756 7THÆ SCHOOL ÆÆ VVÆ VV schedules. As much time should be spent upon these three— grammar, literature, and composition —as the courses of study in the schools will admit. In general, the schools have made liberal time provision for this work. The amount of time varies greatly in the different schools. • The transition from the grammar to the high school ought to be less abrupt than it is. Ordinarily, from the course of study prescribed, it would seem that the high school makes a sudden change. Algebra, a new subject, takes the place of arithmetic; ancient history supersedes United States history and geography. Latin comes in as a new subject. The course in English alone is familiar ground. But the work of the high school should be “shaped by the mere momentum of the lower grades.'' But this is rarely so. While a few schools teach a little algebra, descriptive geometry, and the beginnings of Latin in the grammar grades, thus making the transition to the high school easy, by far the greater number make the abrupt change. The pupil is not only ushered into a new life, but he takes up work as unfa- miliar as his surroundings, and often spends a large part of the first term in finding himself. Consider briefly the Latin which as a language study deserves mention in connection with the English. Seventy-five lessons, nearly all of them emphasizing important principles, have to be mastered so that the pupil can take up the study of Caesar or other translation at the end of I 25, or at the most of I 5o, days of study. This ought not so to be. If Latin formed part of the study of English in the gram- mar grades, its study in the high school could be taken up with greater benefit and the course in Latin be completed satisfacto- rily in four years. So much for the Latin. The courses in English follow along fairly defined lines in the first nine grades. The same course is required of all. But in the high school and academy the problem becomes more com- plicated. A few of the pupils are preparing for college. The larger proportion will finish its education in the high school. Is the same course of English study to be required of all? So important is the study of English that I believe that all pupils in the high Schools, no matter what courses they are pursuing, Æ ÆAOR 7 OAV COURSES OA S7'UD Y ZAV ÆAVGZ/SA 757 should take the same general work in English. . This would be more economical for the schools, and a uniform plan would enable the teachers to develop one course stronger than two parallel courses. If the same work could be required of all, the problem of the courses of study in English would be easier. The absolute definition of requirements in English is not one ' I can recommend for those who are to enter college, and cer- tainly is not one for those who are not to go beyond the high school. Not but what every book in the list of requirements is well worth study; but if these books alone are to be. studied, other books are better both for those who are to go to college and for those who are not. Some schools have adopted the list of college requirements, with a few slight additions in the first year, skipping English entirely the second year, and spending the last two years wholly upon the college requirements. Some follow the English requirements wholly. Some give a very broad and comprehensive course. Let us glance at the college requirements: three plays of Shakespeare, one for careful study; four of Milton's shorter poems, a careful argument, two critical essays. These books, with Macbeth, are for careful study. Then follow some of Addison's Daily Themes, three English novels, three poems (two of them very short), and one critical essay; These books are to be read so as to keep “freshly in mind their most important parts.” In this list there is but one short poem by an American writer. These books are excellent, in themselves, but I think that our American children, and those we are trying to make Americam, should have different—or, if not different, at least additional—books to read and study. The trouble is not with the books, but with the small number of books and the way in which they are prescribed. The list is too one-sided. There is too little that is American. True, the lower schools have proba- bly studied more American than English authors, but the fact that a pupil enters the high school does not seem to me to be reason why he should drop American writers. If argument is to be studied, let us have a book that speaks of America by an American. The oratory of Burke could well be supplemented 758 • 7TÆ Æ SCHWOO/ Æ Æ VVÆ VV by that of Webster, Everett, or Choate. If essays and philoso- phy are needed, let our pupils study Emerson as well as Addi- son. Why not have novels of Hawthorne, of Poe, or retain one of Cooper's, as well as have only Silas Mamer, The Vicar of Wakefield, and Ivanhoe? In other words, let us have in our American schools a goodly proportion of American thought. Is the English better ? No matter. The sweet song of Hiawatha, , , the rugged verse of the Quaker poet, the vivid imagination of Poe, the humor of Holmes, the purity of the thoughts of Emer- son, are American, and because they are American their study would touch a responsive chord in the hearts of American chil- dren. An additional reason why the high-school children who are going to college should study American literature in the public schools: Very little, if any, can be studied at the col- leges. Look over the catalogues of the universities and the colleges, and almost no provision is made for the study of American literature. Harvard offers. a half course, which is occasionally omitted. In addition, there is a course for graduate study. In Yale, one course meeting one hour a week. In Wellesley, one course one hour a week for a year. Another course touches a little upon America. In Princeton, one course —a senior elective. In Dartmouth, one-half course given in the second semester three times a week. Is not this abundant reason why American literature should be studied in the schools? The plan for work adapted to the program of the Committee of Ten published in 1897 presents an admirable selection of books to be read in the high Schools. This list emphasizes the importance of American authors. Irving, Longfellow, Haw- thorne, Professor Norton, Cooper, Dana, Lowell, Dr. Hale, and Emerson are studied together with England's best. Some of the books should be studied carefully, but not toO critically; others should be read intelligently in the class, and still others required for home reading. • • No absolute list of books should be prescribed for all schools. Each school should have its own comprehensive list. If the school sends graduates to college, let the colleges indicate the scope of the work to be done, but „let the schools meet the A ZAOR 7 OAy COURSES OA STUDY AW ÆAWGLSA/ 759 requirements as seem best. The college could examine care- fully the work done by the school, what books were read, and with what thoroughness the work was carried on. But the schools should have a large freedom in their choice. - Every school in Essex county, particularly those under the shadow of Haverhill or Amesbury, should study the songs of the Quaker poet. We cannot expect the schools of Salem to pass by the works of Hawthorne, or Concord the work of Emerson, or Cambridge. the work of Longfellow, Holmes, and Lowell. Marshfield should study the masterpieces of Webster. Nearly every town in New England, certainly every county, has associated with it the names of men who have contributed to our literature, both prose and poetry. America's best is the com- mon heritage of all the schools. Just as in the study of history and geography great stress is placed upon the importance of the study of the town, county, and state in which we live, so in our , literature the life and works of local writers should be studied. Not alone should the writers of the past be read in our schools, but the works of those now living, the venerable of today, whose place in literature is already secure. Professor Norton's Hearts of Oak and Dr. Hale's The Mam without a Country deserve a place in every New England school and home. Even though it is doubtless true that many of these books have been read in the lower grades, their study should be a part of the high-school CO Ul1TS€. - - Closely associated with the work in English, and really a part of it, are the courses in classics, modern languages, and history. A purely classical course is extremely rich in its opportunities for perfecting English. The careful reading and study of Virgil and Homer, of Cicero and Xenophon, or of any other great writers, if properly directed by the teacher, will greatly aid in literary study and development. In all schools the study of English should be closely connected with all other subjects, and most particularly so in the allied subjects of languages and his- tory. In the first year the Latin arid history give splendid opportunities for English training in reading, writing, spelling, construction, composition, and literature. English grammar, I 76o 7TÆVÆ SCA/OO Z Λ ΑΕ VVÆ VV have stated, cannot be studied in any better way than through careful training in the Latin grammar. This study enlarges the vocabulary, teaches discrimination in the choice of words. What is true of the study of Latin is almost equally true of the study of Greek, French, and German. Added to this, the increased familiarity with the culture and the civilization of the ancients broadens the mental horizon of our pupils and gives to English study a new importance. In courses of study where the classics or the modern lan- guages are wholly or partly omitted, additional attention should be given to the study of English literature and composition. Some attention should be paid to the translation of the ancient , classics. - - - Books should never be studied word for word or line for line, as is necessary to do with a foreign tongue. Let me read a sen- tence from the “Suggestion to Teachers " in the pamphlet on Emg/is/, in Secondam y Schools: - Pupils should of course be made to understand what they read as they go along ; but attention should be fixed, not on unimportant details of substance or of style, but on the significance and spirit of the whole. In studying a tragedy of Shakespeare, for example, far less time should be given- to the discussion of details than to the march of events, the play of character, the main lines of the plot, the significance of the whole as a work of genius. Allusions of the broader and more interesting sort found in the works studied — e. g., allusions to classic myths and to historical events — should receive adequate and sympathetic illustration. If any etymological comment is thought desirable, it should be limited to words having a distinct affiliation with the pupil's present knowledge of language, especially of Latin. . . . . In every case, a teacher should beware of imparting knowledge in such a way or of such a kind as to kill interest in what his pupils, if left to them- selves, would enjoy. - Throughout the high school, then, the English work should be carried along three lines: grammar, literature, and composi- tion. In grammar, we have stated that the aim is for the pupil to gain an intelligent grasp of the English language, with its peculiarities of form and construction. In this the high school finishes off the work of the lower grades. A text-book will not often be needed, but each pupil might well keep a careful note- book. • . Æ ÆÆOA?7' OAV COÜÄ€SÆS OÆF SZTUZ) Y /Λ/ ÆAVG ZASÆV 76I The aim of literature, we have seen, is to give the pupil a clearer understanding of the author's meaning and a better appreciation of the beauty of his thought and expression. The pupil should see the pictures, hear the music, and feel not alone the quiet happiness and the gentleness of the summer's breezes, but also the sadness and something of the pain that the author sees and hears and feels. A new hope in life comes to the pupils of the schools from the sympathetic study of Lowell's Visiom. How much they find in nature when they wander with Thoreau ! How beautiful the flowers and fields seem when they feel with Bryant and see with the eyes of Wordsworth ! How quiet and restful are the scenes of country life seen through Whittier's eyes ! What child or man can read Hiawatha sympa- thetically and not glory in its beauty and be impressed with the legends of a mythology wholly our own ? Are these only the poets? Patriotism can be felt best by the heart-throbs of Henry, Otis, Everett, and Sumner. How grand our youth think our hard-earned liberty is when the sonorous periods of Webster find a response through well-directed suggestions from a sympa- thetic teacher! What an impetus to their imagination to read the vivid descriptions of Poe! What lessons taught by the Scarlet Letter and the Maröle Faum / What an inspiration the pupil gets who studies with a lover of Emerson the beauty of his philosophy ! Besides the work in the schoolroom, an interest should be stimulated in outside reading. Often a teacher may help his pupils much by telling them something in advance of the cir- cumstances under which the book was written and its place in literary history. Books suggested for private reading should be in all cases such as will interest the. pupils, and besides cultivate their taste and invigorate their minds. - So much for grammar and literature. The third and last division remains to be considered more in detail, viz., com- position. - •. . Throughout the seven years in the grammar and high-school courses the pupils should have composition work regularly. Occasional long compositions should be required. The number e* 762 ' ' ' . . 7THVAE SCA£VOO Z Æ Æ]VVÆ VV and length of these occasional productions might increase as the pupil advances in his course. Individuality in thought and expression should be carefully cultivated. I will not enlarge upon this part of the subject, for I think that the schools in general meet this work well. But to my mind, importantas these long occasional compositions are, they are far less beneficial than the frequent short ones. I believe that each pupil in the high school (and I think each pupil in the grammar school) should be required to hand in each day a short composition upon some subject chosen by himself. These compositions, or daily themes, should not be over a page in length, should be upon a single subject, should be written neatly with black ink, and should be handed in regularly. The pupil should be encouraged to express himself in these themes. An experience of seven years in my own school with boys between the ages of ten and twenty, and an intimate knowledge of this same plan in a school of boys and girls numbering over one hundred, convince me that daily theme work, properly handled, produces better results than any other method I have tried or have seen others try. Many schools are approaching this work. I confidently believe that the day is not far distant when all the better schools in New England will give courses in daily themes. Our plan of work is briefly: Each pupil deposits his theme in a locked box made for the purpose before a specified hour each day. The themes are read, cor- rected with red ink, commented upon, suggestions made, and are then handed back to the pupil in batches of five or ten for his examination. Later a personal conference, never exceeding five minutes during which time the ' instructor runs Over the themes, emphasizes his comments, answers questions. The themes are then retained by the teacher. . * The themes naturally cover a great variety of subjects. • The instructor needs to be a man or woman well equipped; no better equipped, however, than every teacher of English ought to be. Naturally many of the themes are written hurriedly. In general, the pupils take great pride in their themes and endeavor to do their best work. The constant correction of little mistakes teaches more careful expression. v-. Æ ÆFORT OAV COURSES OA STUDY ZAV ENGLISH 763 More than all, the teacher of daily themes gets an insight into the very heart of every pupil in a way no other teacher can. If properly encouraged, every pupil shows himself, his per- sonality, his originality. The theme course stimulates observa- tion. Many a time have I heard the remark, when something occurred out of the usual order: “There is my theme for tomor- row !” The mere necessity of writing something original each day makes the pupil mentally alert and greatly develops his powers of observation, which otherwise might lie dormant. . I have found it very beneficial to call my pupils together immediately after the morning exercises, keep them ten minutes, requiring each to write and hand in a theme written on the spur of the moment. Sometimes we assign a general subject or sub- jects, and sometimes require each pupil to choose his own. Occasionally the theme instructor gives a talk on themes, illus- trating his remarks from themes. Each year a talk on the uses of “shall'' and *' will" does much good. • The course, properly conducted, takes time, although not nearly as much as one would think who has not tried it. Objec- tion may be raised that this course is impossible simply because of the time it takes. I can say merely that there is always time to do that which produces the best results. Further this work is being done each year in an increasing number of schools. I should give up any other course of study in my school more wil- lingly than the course in daily themes. In conclusion let me sum up. The grammar-school course in English should continue the English work in the lower schools, and the principles of grammar be firmly fixed. Where possible, introduce the study of Latin early in the grammar course. Let the progress be slow, but thorough, emphasizing the fundamental principles of the English language. Much literature should be read both in school and out. A better comprehension of the reading is to be soüght, a deeper interest is to be aroused. Con- stant written work daily should be insisted upon. In addition, occasional long compositions should be required. The high school should see no sudden change from the gram- mar. In the high school the principles of grammar, already 764 7THÆ SCHOO/. ARÆ V/AEJV learned in the grammar school, should be emphasized and firmly fixed, as much through other tongues as through the English. Many books are to be read, and the pupils trained to see, to feel, and to hear with the author. Far better will it be read several plays of Shakespeare with ordinary care than to expect your pupils to study Macbeff, critically. Let Macbeth be read as Julius Caesar or The Merchant of Vemice are read— understandingly cer- tainly, but not critically. The latter is college work. Very few men or women outside the college professors of Shakespeare are qualified to teach Shakespeare critically. - I hope that the colleges will greatly increase the requirements in English, but that they will leave each school much latitude in conducting its work and in choosing its literature. Let the field be as broad as may be, and let it include the best of English and American writers. Let each school be encouraged to give its pupils more than a passing knowledge of the local authors and writers, living and dead. - . And, finally, let due attention be paid each day to correct expression, both oral and written. Each teacher should be held responsible for the use of good English in his classes, both in the oral and in the written work. All written work submitted by pupils should be regarded as English composition, and incor- rect expression should be taken into account in estimating the grade, whether the paper be work in history, arithmetic, or English composition. - - - The increased attention given to the study of English in grammar, literature, and composition indicates the importance of a most careful consideration of the subject in all its phases. PERLEY HoRNE. III. A COURSE IN ENGLISH FOR PRIMARY AND LOWER GRAMMAR GRADES. - - - GENERAL REMARKS. 1. It is taken for granted that teachers will carefully, tactfully, and patiently correct poor enunciation and pronunciation. . 2. The idioms prescribed are merely suggestive; the correc- Æ ÆÆOÆ 7" OAV COÜARSÆS OÄ7 S7TÜZ) V /ΛV ÆΛVG ZASÆV 765 tion of false syntax will be determined, of course, by the meeds of the pupi/. 3. Spelling should be both oral and written, with syllabication in oral work. A spelling-book is neither denied nor required. At the end of the sixth year children should be able to spell all words of which they have need, and should know how to use a dictionary with ease. 4. In all written work accuracy is to be required—in spelling, punctuation, and in the use of capitals. 5. From Grades I to III, inclusive, all observations recorded and experiences related must have come under the observation of the teacher, to insure training in truthfulness. 6. Always a sharp distinction is to be made between written recitations or reproductions and original compositions. . 7. Reading and literature are to take quite half the time assigned to English. One half-hour every day is to be spent in reading for pleasure. - GRADE I. (Fifteen hours a week.) Oral exercises. I. Conversations. a) Connecting home and school. δ) Upon the locality and natural surroundings of the school. c) Upon animal and plant life, and minerals. d) Upon matters concerning form, color, number. e) Upon pictures. f) Upon holidays. - - 2. Reproductions of some stories told by the teacher; explanation of children's illustrations made with brush, crayon, clay. 3. Forms to be mastered during the year. a) Use of am and a. • b) Use of came, did, sazw, /aave (affirmative and negative; always in sentences). c) Greeting and farewell. d) “ If you please;” “Thank you;” “ May I?” Written exercises. - I. Copying from board or cards: words, sentences, bits of good verse (accuracy required in spelling and punctuation, and in the use of capitals). 766 7THÆ SCHOOZ RÆ VIÆ PV 2. Child's own name, and *' I." Names of parents (Mr., Mrs., Dr.); address of parents (street, avenue; Massachusetts, New York, as needed). Names of the days of the week; names of the months. Dates in April, May, and June. - , 3. Letter-writing. Suggestions: letters to members of the pupils' families. a) Note of thanks for a gift. • - b) Invitation to visit school. (To be correct as to spelling, capitals, punctuation; heading, salutation, close, signature.) - « Reading. ιι I. From the board at first. a) Simple sentences recorded from conversation. b) Sentences leading to “ First Book.” 2. Several readers, including the Heart of Oak books. Beginnings of literature. I. Myths to/d by the teacher, not read. 2. Reading by the teacher. a) Standard fairy-tales. b) Fables. c) Parables. 3. Poetry. - - a) Read or recited by the teacher. b) Learned by heart by the children. •s. (Short artistic wholes, not mere snatches of verse.) GRADE II. (Thirteen and one-half hours a week.) Oral exercises. . I. Conversations as in Grade I. ę 2. Contents of reading lesson, substance of some stories, told or read. 3. Forms to be mastered: have beem, have come, have seem ——(also inter- rogative and negative); there is, there are, there was, there zwere ; / am, / a//z moz, /'//? /?oz, szt, saz, r/z/?, 7ram , dra///é, drzm/è. / \ 'Z0/42 λe | . . - 22/0ZS 3/o/z ». Zwere sλe z/.ey it J too } zoo/è } too ) 772e 24S ] j/o/z and ///e gave gave gave Suggestions: Observe in reading lessons. Correct in speech. Written exercises. : - - I. Noun plurals in s. Æ ÆAOÆ7 OAW COURSES OA STUDY /Λ/ ÆΛ/GZ/SA 767 2. ' Copying of fables, proverbs, verse. Oral exercises. I. Uses of capitals. - a) Proper names. δ) To begin sentences. c) To begin lines of poetry. a) « I,” «o." ' Punctuation. a) Period to close statement, to mark an abbreviation. b) Point of interrogation. c) Commas. Before and after names of address, in heading and salutation of letters. Dictation of proverbs, fables, verse—for spelling, punctuation, use of capitals, idiom. • - Letter-writing, letters of thanks, birthday greetings, informal invita- tions. Abbreviations as needed. Reading and literature as in Grade I, but somewhat more advanced. . . GRADE III. (Thirteen hours a week.) Conversation : as in Grades I and II; also upon important current events, local history, legal holidays. Reproduction. • a) Substance of the lesson to be read aloud. b) Recitations in all subjects taught (special attention paid to sentence structure). - Forms to be mastered: • Zo Zoz0/72 at homae, go < zn a carriage ?mio f/ae /;o/zse Àe doesm'; fλzs *e • z/£ese * //,ey dom'z . £} £z//a! t/Aose }sine Shal/ /?. May /? Written exercises. I. Copying. a) Simple conversations for spelling, use of capitals, punctuation (comma and quotation marks), apostrophe in possessive nouns. b) Little poems to be kept. » Dictation of simple questions reviewing forms learned in Grades I and II (?). - « Original answers to questions (.). Noun plurals in oe, when vowel changes occur — e. g., mam, mem ; toot/, feet/,. a) 768 7THÆ SCHOOL ARÆ VVÆ VV 5. Exercises for changing sentences in singular to plural — e. g., given, “ bird is singing;” required, “some birds are singing.” 6. Preterites of common strong verbs (in sentences), as begim, choose, drimâ, drazw, Âmozw, etc. 7. Letter-writing. a) As before. b) Descriptions of things seen, as a bird, a flower, a toy. Reading. As in grades I and II, with much supplementary reading, all good litera- ture, not books of information. Literature. a • Greek myths leading to Hawthorne's VVomdemr Book and Tamg/ezwood 7ales. Reading of teacher; prose and poetry. Prose and poetry committed to memory and recited. GRAIDE IV. (Nine hours a week.) Vocabulary. Increasing from all lessons. Elementary study of related terms.— e. g., zwa/è, march, fiace ; touch, taff, Aëmoc ; harâ, Âear, /zstem. Difference of meaning taught through illustration. Use of dictionary for pronunciation and meaning. Oral exercises. I. Conversations on — a) Local excursions. δ) Occupations. c) History. a) Men of note. e) Simple affairs of state, as election in town and state; talks about authors several of whose books the children know, as Hans Ander- sen, Longfellow. Substance of some stories that are to be read aloud. Forms to be mastered in sentences: /z/èe and /ove, zeac/ and Zea???, zwzs/ and zwamt, 7mtay and cam ; / s/a//, you zwz//, /,e wz//. SÀa// /? / sλο?z/a /j/èe. Observe in books read. Written exercises. ' I. Copying from books. Poetry and prose to be kept. Suggestions: wholes, or if not, indicate from what work the passage is taken; author's name. - 2. Given, lists of any Æng/is/. nouns in singular; required, lists of same nouns in plural. » 3. Dictation. a) Simple conversation (fables or short stories). b) Narrative verse. c) Questions concerning use of capitals and ? . | c c ° ° . e } AREAOR 7" OAV. COURSES OA^ STUoy /ΛV ÆΛVG Z/SÆV 769 4. Original answers to questions above. 5. Letter-writing. - a) Friendly letters on definite subjects (training for unity, orderly arrangement, indicating paragraphs). b) Informal invitations with replies. 6. Themes based upon observation and experience of the writer. Sug- gested subjects: “ The New Fire Engine,” “ Our Sleigh Ride,” “A Hornet's Nest,'' ** Fido's Tricks.” Reading. Nothing but permanent literature now and hereafter. Literature. I. Reading of teacher. 2. Poetry and prose learned by heart (choice allowed witb definite limits). GRADIE V. Nine hours a week. Vocabulary. Continued study of related terms to lead to synonyms. Oral expression. Conversations as in Grade IV. Plans made for topical recitations in geography, history, science. Recitations by topics. Relating incidents in stories read. Forms to be mastered : A person looks well, happy, pretty. An apple looks good, riffe, rosy. A person feels we//, happy, sad. A thing feels smoot/, roug/a, /aard, sofè, etc. I had rathemr ; I had befter; I had as /ie/. Written exercises. I. 2. 3. Plurals of all English nouns. Masculine and feminine of all English nouns. Sentences containing personal pronouns in the predicate — attribute and object. Given, present of strong verbs; required, preterite and have —, has —. Given, detached statements of related thought; required, good com pound and complex sentences. .. Dictation. a) Special attention to paragraph and stanza. b) Quotation within quotation. Letter-writing, connected with school work. a) To relatives at a distance. b) To children of other towns. c) To children of other countries. d) Informal invitations. **y 77o - '. ZWRÆ S€AHVOO / ÆÆ VVÆ VV , 8. Themes. a) Touching geography and history (imaginative work encouraged). b) Based upon observation and experience (emphasis upon sentence structure). Reading and literature. I. As shown in list. 2. Much poetry by one author— Longfellow, Whittier, Wordsworth, Ten- nyson, Bryant, Scott. 3. Training of taste; children to choose what they shall learn from the works of author read. GRAIDE VI. (Eight and one-half hours a week.) Vocabulary. Pupils may keep a list of new words learned. Simple study of English roots, prefixes, and suffixes— e. g. : given, Âánd; to form ; Âîndness, zzmánd, λέnd/y, Âîmd/iness, etc. Constant use of dictionary for spelling, pronunciation, meaning. Oral exercises. I. Conversations on matters of world-wide interest. 2. Reproduction of matter silently read. 3. Recitations by topics (plans worked out in class). 4. Plans for themes worked out in class. Forms to master: eve^y ome £. Umzfed States } ioes eac/. zvzs/Aes a74y o72e ze/a7zzs *' The class presents a picture.” “The class dine at Parker's.'' Written exercises. Comparative and superlative of given adjectives and adverbs. Masculines and feminines of nouns. Plurals of compound nouns, of letters, of figures. Copying of paragraphs containing — a) Good compound sentences (;). b) General statements followed by particulars (:). c) A break in thought (—). 5. Dictation exercises, • to insure correct use of all punctuation marks, capitals, etc. 6. Letter-writing. a) Business forms : : ÆÆAOÆ 7" OAV COURSÆS OÆ S7TUZOY /ΛV ÆAVG/L/SÆV 77 I Heading Address Salutation (:—) Body Close Signature Superscriptions. 6) Business letters and replies. c) Bills: from grocer, market man, dairy man, furniture dealer, plumber, mason, contractor, dry-goods dealer, music dealer, book-seller, et a/. d) Invitations, informal and formal. e) Friendly letters upon one subject. 7. Themes a) Based upon observation and experience. b) Imaginative themes relating to history and nature. Reading and literature. I. Silent reading encouraged. 2. Oral reading (pupils to choose matter within defined limits). 3. Reading of teacher. 4. Poetry and prose (recited and written from memory). MARY C. MooRE. IV. SIMPLE GRAMMAR IN GRADES V AND VI. GRADE V. Basis of work, some simple story. To be observed : I. Paragraphs. I. In conversation. 2. In description. a) Subject of the paragraph. b) All sentences relate to subject. II. Sentences. I. Classified as to use: declarative, interrogative, imperative, exclam- atory. 2. Study of simple sentences. a) Essential parts. Terms : subject, predicate. b) Story told in nouns ; story told in verbs. Terms: noun, verb. Use of personal pronouns. c) Subject modifiers. (1) Single words: that show ownership (possessive nouns and pronouns); that identify (appositives); that describe, limit, or designate (adjectives). 772 7THÆ SCHVOOL A&AE VVÆ VV (2) Groups of words: that show ownership (of), accompani- ment (with); that describe or limit. Study of group. (a) Noun or pronoun. (ô) Word that exactly defines relation (preposition). d) Predicate modifiers. (1) Single words: that tell how, whem, where (called adverbs). (2) Groups of words: that tell λοχω, τωλem, where, whemce, zωλzz/ae/r, etc. Study of group. (a) Noun or pronoun. (ô) Words that exactly define relation (preposition). III. Words. I. Nouns. a) Classes: proper, common. b) Number: singular, plural. 2. Verbs. a) Self-sufficient predicate: “ Birds sing.” b) Requiring complements. (1) “ William is a humter,” “ William is agile" (attribute). (2) “ William shot a deer (object). GRAIDE VI. Further study of the sentence, based upon observation of a simple piece of literature. I. Very easy compound sentence: members connected by amd, but, or (co-ordinate conjunctions). II. Review the work of Grade V. III. Predicate modifiers : group of words containing subject and predicate, showing time (whem), place (τυλere), condition (àf), degree (as — as), concession (a/though), comparison (t/aam) (connectives called subordi- nate conjunctions). IV. Subject modifiers: group of words containing subject and predicate. I, To limit. 2. To identify or explain. VVλο, τυλοse, whom, which, that (called relative pronouns). V. Interjections as they occur. MARY C. MOORE. i A Ae PORT OAV COURSES OF STUDY AW ZAWGZ/S& 773 V. A LIST OF BOOKS GRADED FOR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. ABBREVIATIONS. .* (Unless otherwise stated, the publishing houses are in Bostom.) LO. C. H. = D. C. Heath & Co. • . Put.= G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York. De W. & F.= De Wolfe, Fiske & Co. Scrib.= Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, Ginn= Ginn & Co. • S. & M.=Small & Maynard. H, & M.= Houghton, Mifflin & Co. Am. B.= Americam Book Co. J. B. L.=.J. B. Lippincott Co., Philadelphia. Cen.= Century Co., New York. L. & S.= Lee & Shepard. L. B.=Little, Brown & Co. Mac.= Macmillam Co. GRADES III ANID IV. Æ?f*y Ramaous Stories. Am. B. Amdersem?'s Æaz/y 7a/es. Ginn. - -. 7}e VVomdemr C/.azr ama! f/e 7a/es iz 7o/d. Frances Browne. D. C. H. Sevem Lztt/e Sisters. Jane Andrews. L. and S. Æac/, ama A //. Jane Andrews. L. & S. Æyes ama' Vo Eyes. Edited by M. V. O`Shea. D. C. H. A Gardem of Child's Verse. Robert Louis Stevenson. Scrib. The Eugeme ÆjeJa BooÂ. Scrib. & ILitt/e Daffydowmdi//y amd Other Stories. Hawthorne. H. & M. Sophie. Madàme de Segur. D. C. H. The Litt/e Lame Primce. Mrs. Craik. D. C. H. Jac£amapes. Juliana Ewing. D. C. H. 7Âe Arabiam AVigÃzs. Edited by E. E. Hale. Ginn. A /ice zmz VVomder/a/td. . Lewis Carroll. Mac. Grama fat/ier's Chazr. Hawthorne. H. & M. Advemtures of UJysses. Lamb. H. & M. 7/e Jungle Book. Rudyard Kipling. Cen. A z z/ae Back of t/ae Norf/. VVima. George Macdonald. J. B. L. Umdime. De la Motte Fouqué. D. C. H. Swiss Fami/y Robinsom. Wyss. Ginn. Marco Po/o. Towle's Edition. L. & S. What Kazy Did. Sugan Coolidge. R. Greek Heroes. Kingsley. Ginn. GRADES V AND VI. 77, e VVopzder BooÂ. Hawthorne. H. & M. 7amg/ezwood 7a/es. Hawthorne. H. & M. The Boys' Kimg Arthur. Edited by Sidney Lanier. Scrib. True Ta/es of Bzras ama Beasts. Edited by David Starr Jordan. D. C. H. Madam Æozv amd Lady VV/y. Charles Kingsley. Mac. A Year of Mirac/e. William C, Gannett. Ellis. Birds ama Bees. John Burroughs. H. & M. Aarab/es from AVatumre. Mrs. Gatty. Mac. 774 7THÆ SCHOOL ARÆ VVÆ VV VVasfe /Voz, VVa/zz Noz ana Oz/e/^ Szo/rjeS. D. C. H. 77, e King of t/ae Go/dem Räz/er. Ruskin. D. C. H. Water Babies, Kingsley. D. C. H. 7em Boys om t/ae Road from Lomg Ago to Vozw. Jane Andrews. L. & S. .Storzes of z/ae O/a, VVor/a. Church. Ginn. Story of the //iaa; Story of the Odyssey. Church. Mac. Ulysses among z/ae Phaeaciams. “ Riverside Literature” series, No. 43. H. & M. 7a/es of a Grama father. Sir Walter Scott, Ginn. Aeazs om f/.e Fiord. Harriet Martineau. 7/ae Lama of P/ucae. Mary Mapes Dodge. Scrib. Jam of t/ae //i//. Julian Ewing. The Story of a Short Life. Mrs. Ewing. D. C. H. 77, e Greaz Stomae Aeace. Hawthorne. D. C. H. 7a/es from SÁaÁéespeare. Lamb. Ginn. The CÀrzsz/zas Caro/. Dickens. H. & M. A CÀz/a's Dream of a Sfar. Dickens. A/umtimg ofz/ae Deer. Charles Dudley Warner. H. & M. Story of a Bad Boy. T. B. Aldrich. H. & M. VVi/d Amima/s that / Have Kmowm. Ernest Seton. Thompson. Scrib. Ai/grim's Arogress. John Bunyan. Ginn. Do/ρ/, Aey/iger. Washington Irving. D. C. H. Æ/ams BrimÃer. Mary Mapes Dodge. Scrib. Æ/eidi. Translated by Louisa Brooks. De W. & F. Æoόzm Som, Crusoe. De Foe. D. C. H. Evamge/ime. Longfellow. H. & M. GRAIDE VII. A/zfarc/, for Boys ama Gir/s. Put. 77, e Siege of Leydem. J. L. Motley. D. C. H. Cast/e B/a//r. Flora L. Shaw. D. C. H. 7Âe Croffom, Boys. Harriet Martineau. D. C. H. Being a Boy. Charles Dudley Warner. H. & M. 77ωo J^eaprs ôefore z/ae Masz. Dana. H. & M. 77, e Cricâ et om. f/.e Æ/ea/rz/,. Dickens. Dramatized. Ta/es of a Trave//er. Irving. Put. JL£fe of Audubom. John Burroughs. “ Beacon Biography." S. & M. Lays of Amciemz Romae. Macaulay. “ Riverside Literature” series. H. & M. The Visiom of Sir Laumfa/. James Russell Lowell. H. & M. Smozwóoumd. J. G. Whittier. H. & M. Captafms of /mdustry. Parton. H. & M. Æab ama! Ais Friemds. Dr. John Brown. D. C. H. Litt/e ////em. Louisa Alcott. L. B. Lztt/e VVome/z. Louisa Alcott. L. B. ÆÆÆOÆ 7" OÄV COURSÆS OÆ7 S7TÜZ) Y VAV ÆAVG ZASAR 775 The Mam zwitho/zz a Co/umfry. E. E. Hale. R. ÆramÂ/im's Autobiograff/y. “ Riverside Literature'' series, Nos. I 9 and 2o. H. & M. A Vezw Æmg/amd Boy/.ood. E. E. Hale. H. & M. GRAIDES VIII AND IX. Sforzes from AFrozssarz. Edited by H. Newbolt. Mac. Aassages from f/ae Speeches of Patric Æemmy, Benjamim FramÂ/im, Damie/ VVebster. H. & M. Brute AVeighbors. Henry D. Thoreau. H. & M. Boö. Sidney Lanier. Scrib. Lífe of AgassÍ2. “ Beacon Biography'' series. S. & M. The S£etc/, BooÂ. Irving. Put. Treasure /s/ama. R. L. Stevenson. L. B. Tom Browm at Rugby. Thomas Hughes. H. & M. Sir Walter Scott: The Story of Abbotsford. See Lockhart's Lífe and Sir Walter's /o/z^rma/. Arue ama' /. George William Curtis. The Lady of t/ae Lake. Scott. D. C. H. 77, e Lay of f/,e Lasz Mimstre/. Scott. D. C. H. 77. e Bui/a%mg of t/ie Sλέρ. H. W. Longfellow. H. & M. Sohrab ama, Rusfum. Matthew Arnold. Three poems of knightly adventure. “Standard Literature” series. University Pub. Aepactom. John Burroughs. H. & M. The Courtship of Mi/es Stamdis/a. Longfellow. H. & M. The S/y. James Fennimore Cooper. H. & M. The Lasz of the Mohicams. James Fennimore Cooper. D. C. H. Láfe of Gramt. Owen Wister. “ Beacon Biography " series, S. & M. Aassages from VVasλῖmgtom's Farezwe// Address. H. & M. Lám co/mz's Søeec/, at Geztysburg. H. & M. * Urtder the O/a' EZm. James Russell Lowell. H. & M. The Co//a///e//zoraziom Ode. James Russel] Lowell. H. & M. Láfe of VV//t/ier. Richard Burton. “ Beacon Biography " series. S. & M. The Æortumes of AVige/. Sir Walter Scott. A$emz/zwo/rf/;. Sir Walter Scott. /wam/Aoe. Sir Walter Scott. Our Maztaza/ Frzema. Dickens. A Ta/e of Two Cities. Dickens. Shakespeare: As You Like /?; /u/ius Cæsar; 7/ae Merc/ianz of Vemice ; ÆHemmy V., A Mia'summer Nig/,/'s Drea/// ; Kimg Lear. Eacon's Essays: “ Of Truth,'' ** Of Studies.'' Garet/, amd Lymette. Tennyson. Three poems of knightly adventure. “ Standard Literature '' series. University Pub. 776 ZTHÆ SCAHVOOA ARÆ VIÆ VV Poems of Emersom. Selected by George H. Browne. *' Riverside Literature” series. . H. & M. The So/itary. George W. Cable. In ** Strong Hearts.'' Scrib. BOOKS OF CAREFULLY SELECTED POETRY. CÀïía, Life in Aoetry. Whittier. H. & M. «/ Go/dem 7reasumy of the Best Somgs amd Lyrica/ Poetry im the Emg/is/, Lam- guage. Palgrave. Mac. *. The Chi/drem*s Garlamd of Verse from the Best Poets. Coventry Patmore. Mac. Opem Sesame. Bellamy and Goodwin. Ginn. Aoems of P/aces. Longfellow. H. & M. i. NoTE.—These works may be read by teacher and pupils in class ; by the teacher to her class ; by individual pupils at séhool or at home. MARY C. MOORE. Reprinted from ¥he Schoo! Review, Vol. XIII, No. 2, February, 1905 VOLUNTARY READING IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS * E. H. RUSSELL State Normal School, Worcester, Mass. The reason why I stick to child-study through thick and thin, notwithstanding its crudities, its oddities, its futilities—the reason why I-still stand up for it and urge it upon my students, is because it is the only antidote I know of against the vitiated atmosphere of our profession; vitiated constantly, inevitably, like the lead-poisoned air that house-painters have to breathe, by the assumption that human beings in their mental endowments, especially in early years, are sub- stantially alike. It is the practical ignoring, in Our popular education, of the fundamental fact of individuality. Our classifications, our courses of study, time limits, examinations, rankings, classes, diplo- mas, all tend to blind us and paralyze Our Common-sense, insomuch that, although we know better, we still act and talk as if we didn't, as if we really believed that the meager pharmacopoea of pedagogy con- tained a sovereign remedy for every mental ill or defect. Now, with all its imperfections on its head, child-study does tend to open one's eyes to human individuality, quite as marked in children by the way, an we had the trick to see't, as in ourselves, probably more so. Systematic psychology, from the very fact that it is systematic—that is, that it dwells more scientifico on the qualitative resemblances that constitute mankind a genus, and thereby leads the student straight away from those quantitative differences, the more or less of our various faculties or endowments that stamp every one of us with individuality and entitle each to a local habitation and a distinct- ive name—psychology as a science, I say, especially in the hands of a young student, may easily do him more harm than good. It is not the fundamental ingredients, so to speak, that analysis finds in human nature as a whole, it isn't that that the teacher most needs tO * Read at the meeting of the New England Association of Teachers of English, November, I9o4. The general topic was “Voluntary Reading: Can it be Related to School English?” I6o s THE SCHOOL REVIEW know; it is the proportions in which these ingredients enter into com- bination; not So much the permanent what that constitutes our com- mon humanity, as the ever-varying how much that determines our individual personality. Classify children as we will on their quali- tative resemblancesto one another, we never thereby get a step nearer to the quantitative differences that always distinguish John from Peter and Mary from Martha. Psychology makes them all human, and inferentially alike; the pedagogy we need will recognize wide and insurmountable differences between them. These differences, as I said, we ignore; or if we are compelled to accord them recogni- tion theoretically, we minimize or wholly disregard them in practice. Just as certain savages, we are told, Cannot conceive of death as a natural process, but always regard it, at whatever age, as due to some malign influence from without, so we teachers are wont to attribute the failure of our pupils to realize the ideals and aims that have guided Our instruction, to faulty methods or untoward external conditions rather than to inborn and irremediable defects or idiosyncrasies in the pupils themselves. NoW, physicians do not accept the imputation of malpractice whenever a patient grows worse or dies in their hands; the only physician I ever read of who undertook the responsibility of restoring the dead to life was Æsculapius, and he lost his own, you remember, by the practice; the captain of a wrecked ship is not, as a matter of course, discredited on account of the disaster to his vessel; no one thinks the less of the generalship of Lee because of his final surrender. But somehow, if failure is discovered in reaching the lofty aspirations of our formal education, we Seldom hesitate to charge all upon the teacher or the method. Take this subject of English—and I know no better illustration of the point I am trying to make. I have read lately several pungent articles in the magazines deploring the failure of our schools and colleges to accomplish what they are evidently stri§ing to do, namely, make all their pupils facile and correct users of English and lovers of its best literature. Not one of these earnest gentlemen, I think, betrayed the slightest recognition of the sheer impossibility of the undertaking. The articles were one and all pitched in about the same key, a minor for the most part, in view of such meager results as are everywhere to be Seen, and which, it was implied, might have been expected from the stupidity or per- READING IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS , I6I versity of the methods employed; but the strain was finally modulated into a more cheerful major as the writer confided to us the encourag- ing prospect that all this might be changed and success achieved by means which he had “up his sleeve.” The community seems to expect of us some device or expedient. whereby all our pupils may be made, if not to lead their class, at least to stand well above the average; and the worst of it is, we ourselves appear to have accepted and indorsed this demand as reasonable, and to take blame to our- selves and lavish it upon our brethren when there is failure to meet such absurd expectations. . One trouble is that we are all specialists, with an una ppeasable yearning to make our specialty the endowment and possession of all mankind. The music-teacher thinks everybody ought to sing and to play at least one instrument; the publicist feels that every youth , should be taught the institutions of civil government under which he lives; the man of science believes it indispensable for the young to form correct habits of observation and inference in dealing with natural phenomena; the business man says that all young people should be well grounded in the theory and practice of accounts and business forms and usages; the scholar thinks it a shame for a per- son to go through life knowing but One language; and SO on indefi- nitely. • But is this a large or reasonable frame of mind ? Who is sufficient for these things ? What sort of a creature would a universal specialist be, such as Ifear most teachers would like to make of every child born into the world ? Herbert Spencer, I venture to say, saw nothing to smile at when he wrote, reproachfully, that there are men who would blush if caught saying Iphigériia, but Would show not the slightest shame in confessing that they do not know where the Eustaehian tubes are. Suppose you know where they are, what can you do about it ? Must everybody be an accurate anatomist? Must everybody know everything that anybody knows? Now, Ibelieve that nearly every subject studied in our schools and colleges at the present day may fairly be considered a specialty, and that a special aptitude is requisite to gain a mastery of it. But what proportion, think you, of the people one meets in an hour's walk through the principal streets of any large city, or in a day's drive in 162 . THE SCHOOL REVIEW the country, know anything whatever of science or literature, as schol- ars understand the meaning of those words ? I doubt if any of us, after due reflection, put the number so high as one in ten. Well, now, my point is, where are the nine? For my part, I cannot escape the conviction, not only that the instruction which may have been bestowed upon them in those realms of knowledge has been wasted, but that any instruction or training to which they could have been exposed, under the most favorable conditions, would likewise and equally have been wasted. Your dullass will not mend his pace with beating. Someone will say: Why send the nine to school at all, then ? I answer: For the good and sufficient reason that you cannot tell . beforehand, nor without ample trial, which is the one and which the nine. So both must grow together till the harvest. But don't blame the reapers or the sowers iftares do not ripen into wheat. The term “universal education” is perhaps responsible for the notion that the mass of mankind is practically homogeneous, and that allare about equally educable. Nothing, in my judgment, could be more erroneous or more mischievous. I believe that the propor- tion of those born into the world capable of education, in any sense of the word not SO superficial as to be ludicrous, is SO exceeding Small that, quantitatively considered, they would form but the thinnest crust, the merest pellicle or film, upon the mass of the race. Ibelieve that the conceptions of science, the appreciation of literature and art, the comprehension of government, the power of invention, the faculty of direction and control, or even the aspiration toward these things, reside in the few, and are as foreign to the great majority, even in civilized lands and in the great centers of population, as is the power offlight. And yet I would abate nothing of the opportunities, nothing of the facilities, offered to children and youth for enlarging the scope of their minds and cultivating to the fullest extent every talent with which they may be gifted. I am proud of the spirit of our people, that has attracted, and is increasingly attracting, the attention of the civilized World to its multiform and effective educational work. I am reluctantto admitthejusticeoftheterm “superstition” which Professor Wendell applies to it. Still, it is clear, Ithink, that our free schools, day and evening—almost a “continuOus performance,” in fact—with their free textbooks and stationery; our compulsory-attendance laws, READING IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS - I63 with truant officers to go out into the highways and hedges and compel children to come in; our free public libraries almost in sight of One another; our printing-presses “whose sore task does not divide the Sunday from the week,” turning out readable editions of the classics for a few cents a volume; and, more potent than all, the fact that education with us has come to be, as Emerson says, “the word of ambition,” that it is the fashion, the test of respectability, almost of decency—this prodigious, all-sided atmospheric pressure has swept and forced and jammed into the schools thousands upon thousands who have no business there, but whom it is impossible to weed out and get rid of. It is right and proper that all children should be received with open arms into the lower grades, that they should be taught, even Wooed, by the most skilful and seductive teachers, that they should be generously tested and promptly promoted as they are found fit. But this, it seems, will not answer. They must be pushed and squeezed up and up until not a few of them, by hook or by crook—mostly by Crook—at length stand in line and take their diplomas in our colleges and professional Schools. What is fondly called the “education” of such is but a mask, a simulacrum, and implies no real culture whatever. I wonder how many decades must pass before a frank and general recognition of this great fact shall relieve our schools of the heaviest incubus that now clings to them, impeding their work and dragging them down. As one con- dition of such a millennium, educators must come to their senses and cease to harp upon faulty methods and unskilful technic as the only thing that stands in the way of making all children alike and enabling every pupil to rank in the first third of his class. It is discreditable to our intelligence to stand in such an attitude. I come now to the question immediately before us. In order to fortify myself with fresh facts, I appealed to the experience of about one hundred and fifty of my teachers and students as to their volun- tary reading in the period of childhood from eight to twelve. They represent, of course, a selected body, all being graduates of high schools, and a few of colleges. As compared with all the children of the community between the ages indicated, the contributors of my facts would be, in point of intelligence, far above the average. They were asked to state, first, the character and extent of their I64 . THE SCHOOL REVIEW voluntary reading during those four or five years; secondly, what had attracted them to this reading, and what they found in it; and, thirdly, whether it was connected with or suggested by their work in school. From their testimony it appears beyond question that a very large amount of reading was done by nearly all at this period; that much, if not most, of it was done at random and as a matter of course, with little discrimination or reflection, and little obvious effect upon mind or character. The motives leading to and sustain- ing it were various. First, perhaps, the great abundance of reading matter surrounding the child on every hand and pressed to his very lips—books garnished with pictures; books received as presents, and therefore imposing some obligation to read them; books recommended by parents, teachers, and especially by associates; books read from pride or vanity to seem acquainted with what was in them, and talk about it; but most of all, I think, books read from genuine, though superficial and transient, interest. This interest revealed two pretty well-marked types of mind, as to susceptibility to the influences of literature: one I may call the poetic or imaginative type; the other, the prosaic or matter-of fact. In many individuals there was, of course, more or less blending of the two, but in others a distinct and often wide separation appeared. Fables, fairy-stories, extrava- gancies of every sort, were, by one type of mind, eagerly sought and fed upon; the opposite type rejected all such because they were not true or probable to the understanding, preferring stories of children precisely like themselves and their playmates and recording common- place doings and happenings such as filled their own everyday lives. The latter class included some—mostly girls—who manifested a relish, sometimes perhaps acquired or reflected from their elders, for the sentimental, or the conventionally good, or the goody, or what I may call the dilute heroic. • - A large majority reported that their reading had little or no con- nection with school, except as books from the public libraries were sometimes distributed by the teachers. But a minority traced their interest in many good lines of reading to stories or Selections read or suggestions given by their teachers. This seemed to be on the increase; that is, a larger proportion of the younger than of the older students and teachers referred to this Source. READING IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS I65 Two conclusions I am reluctantly compelled to draw from these reports: First, that a large proportion of the mass of reading fur- nished our children is unstimulating, uninforming, and wholly unprofitable for the development of minds of any texture or promise; it is commonplace and without literary quality or flavor. Oh and alas! the herd of facile writers who have nothing of importance to say, and who say it in a manner devoid of distinction or reserve; who, failing to secure any adult audience, fall upon the helpless children ! Oh and alas! the publishers whose only criterion and justification is whether a book can be made to sell! My second conclusion is, that there is, on the one hand, no art or method whereby children can be supplied with reading matter even tolerably adapted to their tastes and capacities; or be restrained, On the other hand, from a cloying and suffocating excess of even the best litera- ture. The idea of restraint hastaken no deep root in the community. I am compelled to believe that at the age I am now considering it is better to leave children to the guidance of their instincts, with a con- siderable variety of matter to select from, than to compel or urge or- even recommend. I say better, using the Comparative degree, for, so far as I can discern, the best way, the superlative, is not yet in sight. When we know vastly more than anybody knows now of the manifold nature of childhood, and the manifold ways in which its development into healthy maturity is effected or arrested, we may reach a solution of what is at present an unSolved problem. If the parent Orthe teacher possesses two very rare qualifications—, namely, love of good literature and sympathy with children—much may be done by reading aloud suitable classic stories, “without note or comment.” I must repeat “ without note or comment,” and I must add, in case of the teacher, without the odious, hated afterclap of an examination or composition. For it is not in the surface froth that may be churned.up by pedagogic nagging, but in the deep and silent recesses of the soul, that literature does its work. I am in full sympathy also with Professor Norton's admonition not to attempt to make reading serve other branches of study, as is now so much the fashion. I hate the very sight of a ** reader,'' with a qualifying adjective that betrays its true character as a book, not of genuine literature, but of science or history or what not. I 66 . THE SCHOOL REVIEWV When I was a boy, it was taken as a good sign to see a child with his face in a book. Books were scarce then, and for the most part not inviting, except to the few whom they might concern. But times have changed. The deluge has come. As the season of Christ- mas approaches, for forty days and forty nights it rains books, and there is no ark of refuge. In the name of the children, I thank heaven that “Christmas comes but once a year.'' I think Mrs. Hunt makes an important omission in not including print among dangerous stimulants and narcotics, for it may be either when taken in overdoses by persons of feeble mental constitution, and especially by children. I therefore suggest that a child with the reading pro- pensity strongly developed needs watching, like one who shows a taste for wine. Taking our whole school population, I do not believe there is more than one in ten who will be much benefited by such reading as he is likely to do in early childhood; and this mainly on account of the excess of it, which often forms a sort of glaze over the intelligence and sensibilities, or else induces a grasshopper habit of Skipping from page to page in search of exciting episodes. A child or youth besotted by reading may fall into a passive habit of mind that will receive and absorb, sponge-like, any quantity of knowl- edge about things, but remain incapable and apathetic as to any active contact with the things themselves. sa President Eliot says, if correctly reported, that “fifteen minutes a day of good reading would give anyone” of that class of our fellow- beings whom he seems to regard—rightly, I think—as infra-human, living, as he expresses it, in “a mental vacuum;” he says that a certain Small amount of good reading each day would lift anyone of this multitude into “a really human life.” Now, I cannot but think that the admirable president's own superior mind, and his long association with a highly selected class of men and women, may have betrayed him into a far too optimistic view of the educability of the lowermost strata of our people, and of the efficacy of good reading to transform a mental vacuum into a mental plenum. I should as Soon think of prescribing fifteen minutes a day of Scraping on the . violin for one who had no ear for tone or rhythm. Do not misunder- stand me. As parent or teacher I would meet every child with a reverent and expectant attitude, the attitude, almost of awe, with READING IN ELEMENTA RV SCHOOLS 167 which Emerson was wont to receive every youthful stranger (“This may be one out of a hundred thousand!”); but I would not, hoping against hope, stay in this attitude indefinitely, or take blame to myself without better reason than the naked fact that my pupil failed to improve. What sort of economy would it be if any agriculturist, in the varied and broken soil of New England, were to bestow, year after year, equally upon every Square rod of his possession the same share of his seed, his fertilizers, and his labor ? My plea, fellow-teachers, when reduced to its lowest terms, is only for better and better discrimination in the use of the splendid means which we already possess. 2- VOLUNTARY READING IN THE CLASSICAL HIGH SCHOOL FROM THE PUPIL'S POINT OF VIEW1 SAMUEL THURBER, JR. Newton, Mass. I trust that at the outset I am not ambiguous. I am not myself a pupil. Indeed, I regret keenly that, for the benefit of English teachers, I cannot speak from a schoolroom desk, and tell them, as a boy as well as a critic, what I think of them, of the English they give me to study, and the way they make me study it. After all, what a misfortune it is that these pupils of ours cannot hold peda- gogical discussions of their own, and then report to us what they want, what they need, what in their hearts they feel! Such a privi- lege school-teachers never enjoy. More than lawyers, or doctors, or business men, they are handicapped by the immaturity of those with whom they work. Boys and girls cannot reason about educa- tional systems. What concerns them is not the why, but the how; and the teacher's vital critic always remains the school committee. Therefore I regret all the more that I am not a boy of fifteen. But I have graduated and am one of the clan; so that I can only ask the reader to forget himself, and as far as possible think of this subject as boys and girls might think, and look at it for the moment from their point of view. Voluntary reading, as far as I have observed, today is not related to the study of English in classical high Schools. Conditions are such that a relation between the two is next to impossible. What these conditions are I wish, first of all, to explain. In the second place, I wish to describe briefly a few methods of teaching college English which I have used in my efforts to meet these existing con- ditions, and which have, in a small way, brought about that correlation of home and school work of which we are speaking. In the first place, there is no time. We are driven, crowded, 1 Read at the meeting of the Association of New England Teachers of English, November, I9o4, I 68 IREA DING IN THE CLASSICA L HIGH SCHOOL I69 hounded, as it is, by our prescribed work, to say nothing of going into other fields to gather grain of a different kind. We cannot afford to. The elective system and the increasingly greater demands of the colleges have perhaps enriched our programs, but they have also brought us to a state of utter poverty in our teaching of English. Every minute must be counted and used. Every hour must be strenuous. In the Newton High School exigencies of time and space have made it absolutely impossible for “classical* pupils to have more than two periods of English a week in all except thé first, or freshman, year. These two forty-five-minute periods must serve for literature, composition work, and rhetoric. Newton, moreover, is no worse off than most cities in the East. In the classical high schools of New England the average number of recitations in English is less than three. Under such circumstances is it any wonder that teachers are willing to rest content if they do the prescribed work satisfactorily and nothing more ? • But not merely do the college examinations takè all the time. They themselves are narrow, exacting, petty. The questions set on papers by some of the Smaller institutions are often rigid and technical to the extreme. Harvard now seems to be taking a step forward in this respect, and is giving the boy who has read and thought for himself a chance to reveal what he knows. Nevertheless, by the very nature of the tests which they give, many colleges are today discouraging, if not forbidding, that correlation which our subject suggests. 3-. Lack of time and cast-iron examinations are serious obstacles in our way. There is another, even more fatal. Between those two parts of the boy's work which we wish to fasten together there is a wide gap, a natural chaSm, so actual and so vast that I have never yet seen a real bOy in a secondary school able to cross it. Not only does the teacher see this gap; from the point of view of the scholar it exists as well. I have found it in every boy's mind which I ever explored. Among pupils out of school and in classes it is constantly apparent. The average youth of fifteen or sixteen does not think of his voluntary reading and his study of literature as one and the same thing. They are as different to him as are Latin and geometry, Or eVen mOre SO. I7o THE SCHOOL REVIEW I prepared for Harvard, with twenty-five others, in one of the So-called Latin Schools of New England, corresponding almost exactly to the average classical high Schooloftoday. This, fortunately Was not So long ago that I have forgotten in the least how we boys felt toward the same prescribed English, with a few exceptions, that I am now teaching. Our English periods we all enjoyed. We liked the teacher. He made the hours interesting by his personality, so that they passed only too quickly. But for the “classics then on the cöllege list* we had no natural, inborn enthusiasm. If we had shown such a feeling, I am confident that the master would have considered us abnormal and been worried. As a matter of fact, we had the same feelings for them that we had for Ovid or Xenophon, rules of French grammar, or quadratic equations. They were all our stint of Work at that period of our lives, our portion of labor to do in order to get into college, whither we all were going. I do not believe that it occurred to one of us then, any more than I see it occurring to girls and boys now, that the Essay on Burns, the De Coverley Papers, and Macbeth were of the same stuff that made the books which we read at our homes when Our lessons were done. When the school which I attended, on some occasion or Other, presented me with a Copy of Under Drake's Flag, by G. A. Henty, an impression was made on my mind which I distinctly remember, and the result of which I still feel. At the time I was puzzled. For Henty to come to me through School seemed somehow incongruous. I did not know then what it meant. But now, looking back, I can see that really the first span of a bridge was being laid across that dismal gulf between my study of literature and my voluntary reading. Not a month ago I saw a bOy of fourteen pass through a similar experience. Ihad just taken from a class The Lady of the Lake and put into their hands Stevenson's Treasure Island. At the close of the hour an astonished, excited voice said to me: “I—I've read this book!” “Well, and what of that?” “Why, I didn't know we studied this kind of a book in school.” - Such a dawning of light as this comes to comparatively few boys and girls. To the majority the idea that a book is a book, whether it be Alger or Addison, is utterly foreign; and the conception that literature is merely the best that has been written, the less good being what they voluntarily read for pleasure—that the two are really rounds READING IN THE CLASSICAL HIGH SCHOOL I7I in the same ladder—such a conception is unknown until possibly the last year in school. When such is the case, with even unlimited time, what appreciable relation of the two can we teachers be expected to bring about ? ę - Now, the only way to relate voluntary reading to English in clas- sical high schools is to bridge this wretched chasm from the start, and to do this we must understand what are the causes ofits existence. They are three in number: the nature of the voluntary reading, the nature of the English in the classical high Schools, and the nafure of English teachers. The boys, Iam confident, are in no way responsible. Of what, then, does this voluntary reading consist ? From the honest confession of a large number of pupils I find that 9I per cent. of it is light modern fiction; 5 per cent. essays, biography, and science; a little more than I per cent. poetry; and a little less than 2 per cent. what we should call literature. These figures would unquestionably change with locality and environment. Yet the change would be slight; and I have often been surprised to see how closely they agree with similar statements made by many teachers from all parts Of the country. The authors of this great 9I per cent. range from Marryat, Henty, Miss Jewett, Dumas, Mr. Trowbridge, through all the authors of our “novels of the day,'' to Alger, Standish, Winfield, Castleman, and men who have produced a dozen books poorer and weaker than the proverbial “dime novel'' of the news-stand. Never, however, have I found a boy reading a book positively vicious, or in my mind wholly worthless. Eighty-five per cent. of this fiction is good, healthy stuff—not harmful, not degenerating, not wicked, and certainly not literature. To meet the problem before us we must recognize this fact. We must realize that the vast majority of our pupils' voluntary reading is simple, crude narrative, entirely lacking in literary style or spirit or purpose. & And, now, what of the classical high-school English—these pre- scribed college books, to which we are going to relate this mass of fiction ? I am neither “an educational anarchist'? nor am I “throw- ing stones,'' but merely expressing the feeling of many an English teacher today, when I say that, taking them as a whole, I am heartily opposed to them, and with their character entirely Out of sympathy. Moreover, if I were a pupil, and a teacher should ask me why I felt so bitter, I should answer somewhat like this: I72 THE SCHOOL REVIEW “Your object, you say, is to interest me in literature and in better reading. Yet your method has been to give me, with the exception of Ivanhoe, Silas Marner, and a play or two of Shakespeare's, some of the most difficult works of that literature—in no way suited, as far as I can discover, to the tastes of boys and girls. You have given me rather books which are the very opposite of my tastes and natural cravings—essays, speeches, idyllic poetry, biography, when I want a plot, and charactcrs, and action, and something being said. “You not only give me such books as these, but you give them to me to study, delve and dig in, to treat as I nevér treated any books before, and nevershall again. • “Then, if I ask you, you say that the authors which you put before me wrote for mature minds, for people who already knew what literature was and enjoyed it, not for beginners such as I. You tell me that Macaulay wrote his Essay om Addison for the readers of the Edinburgh Review, a magazine which boys like me in I843 no more thought of reading than you yourselves expect me to read the Forum or the Atlantic Monthly. You tell me that Burke made his speech on “Conciliation with America' before a house of lords, middle- aged, gouty men in wigs and powder, half of whom fell asleep while he was speaking; and that only of late years has it been discovered to be a suitable introduction for boys of sixteen into the golden realms of English literature. “You tell me many other facts that puzzle me. For instance, you say that these gentlemen*wrote their fine books not only for grown-up people, but for pleasure, not to be studied, picked to bits, and used as examination material! Furthermore, you confess that my older brothers who have gone before me, did not always get that love of * better reading' which you expected, and go on reading Macaulay and Addison when they left you, but have returned, in the rush and stress of their business lives, just where I am now—to these books I like today, to good stories, with hero and heroine and villain, and plenty of talk and action. “And now you are wondering how you can relate your classics to my own reading. You cannot do it! At least, not until you give me such classics, and teach them to me in such a way, that they will appeal to me, not as something to be connected to my voluntary reading, but as one and the same thing with it.” READING IN THE CLASSICAL HIGH SCHOOL I73 Such is the natural, unspoken feeling in the heart of every real boy—the unwritten protest, because he is not a Critic, against these “prescribed books” which we give him. They were not meant for him to read, still less to study. They are above his reach, beyond his interests. To be sure, with our help, he can master enough facts about them to pass an examination; but their style, their spirit, all that makes them literature, he was not destined at his age to under- stand or appreciate. The only three pupils, in my experience, who, of their own accord and because they liked it, made a constant diet of literature, were the most unattractive, unnatural, namby-pamby girls I ever knew. • A boy is never so. He is too genuine, too sincere, toO near to nature's heart. We may treat him as a man. We may put him through a course of training and drilling unsuited to any Creature, young or old, that ever existed on God's earth. He will respond to it and react; for he is sensitive, versatile, and alert. But we shall not accomplish our purpose. We shall not change him. To himself, to boyhood as he represents it, he is eternally true. As Mr. Flexner has well said: The boy on whom our system of mental therapeutics will produce the calcu- lated effect does not exist outside of a schoolmaster's fancy. The real boy, obscure and complicated, may detach himself for preparatory purposes (I might say, for English purposes), but the center of his being is elsewhere—untouched, untamed. To many teachers of English, especially to the older and more con- servative, these sentences will sound harsh and perhapsunreasonable. To them the “college classics” are in a way sacred, and anything so radicalas I suggest must seem to them naturally sacrilegious. Indeed, I expect (and want) little sympathy from that good gentleman, or any of his kind, who told a boy of seventeen that he could not “possibly consider him an educated fellow because he had not studied Macau- lay's Essays.” - Some will remind me, furthermore, that it is ever unwise to throw big stones, forgetting that the proverb works both ways, and that only those who live in glass houses really fear the hurling of missiles from without. - -» There are others who will declare it rash to criticise so severely a list of books prepared and authorized by “a body of learned pro- I 74 THE SCHOOL REVIEWV fessors and long-experienced teachers.'' I would answer, in the first place, that it was just such ** rash criticism” that killed, after a struggle, Defoe's Plague in London. and DeQuincey's Flight oj the Tartar Tribe—lights which once adorned this same “college list,” books which today hardly an English teacher does not shudder to think of having had to teach. There may be other “plagues” among us. Who knows ? Again, I am not at all certain that the best men to prepare a list of books to study in secondary schools are “a body of learned pro- fessors and long-experienced teachers.” The fact that the list is the result of scholarly idealism warrants it a practical failure with boys in their teens. For it is a far cry from a university scholar to the heart of a youth; and long experience is a capital School in which to forget the point of view of the boy. And lastly, these same learned professors, whom we are told we must criticise so gently, Ifind are far from unanimous in their approval of this “prescribed English.” If I had their permission, I might mention the names of three instructors, two in Harvard, who within a year have expressed feelings not a whit less strong than those I am now expressing. Not a month ago One of the faculty of a New England college said at a conference: “If you teachers in the Schools didn't get these fellows so down on literature before they get to us, we might do a little something with them.” When we explained to him the nature of the books we were obliged to teach, he readily agreed that “no boy could go through such a mill and come Out eager for any more ofit.” • w As a matter of fact, the college course in English puts on the boy of seventeen an effectual check to any natural ardor he may have for the literature of his mother-tongue. It is rash to quote from memory, yet Ibelieve it was a year ago before a Connecticut educational con- vention that President Hadley said he should prefer to have young men come to Yale wholly ignorant of English literature rather than have them come, as many were coming, with a decided prejudice againstit. Such a prejudice many others have remarked. And we have no farther to go to find its cause than the books which are used for the study of English in our classical high Schools. . The entire matter, after all, rests upon this: what is the aim of READING IN THE CLASSICAL HIGH SCHOOL I75 teaching English literature ? If our aim is to exercise the pupil's mind and prepare it for Other things than reading; if our ideal is to develop quick and accurate thinking in the affairs of life; if we mean to class English literature with Latin, geometry, algebra, and the modern languages, as a subject “to train the mind;'' if English is to be a purely intellectual process and mental drill—then we have chosen an admirable set of tools with which to work. Throw aside The Merchant oj Venice, Ivanhoe, and Silas Marner, add three works of the type of Macaulay's Addison, and we shall have ourselves well equipped to join the ranks of the teachers of Latin and algebra, and march with them toward the same goal. If, on the other hand, our aim is to cultivate a liking for the best that has ever been written; if we are going to try to form tastes and not train intellects; if our ideal is to lead boys and girls out of dark- ness into “the sweetness and light” of real literature—then we have chosen blindly and unreasonably. Somebody has blundered. The tastes we now form are just the antitheses of our ideals; and the teaching of English literature becomes a complete failure. Nevertheless, unsuitable as these books are which we make our pupils study, the gulf between them and voluntary reading might be more often spanned if teachers were a little more sympathetic and liberal with regard to their pupils' tastes. From the positions which they hold, and from the nature of the work they are doing, English teachers are men and women who do enjoy and read litera- ture. Compared with people at large, they are literary personages. As a result they do not know what the voluntary reading of their pupils is. They may collect data and know the names of books they read, but further than that they plead ignorance. How many teachers today could pass an examination on the works of Henty, Alger, Ellis, Castleman, Winfield, or Oliver Optic? How many could relate Comus or Silas Marner, or The Vision oj Sir Launjal to the voluntary reading of a girl, who is going to college in two years, and who writes that the two books she enjoyed most in the summer vacation were The Havoc oj a Smile, by L. B. Walford, and Poor and Proud; or The Fortunes oj Katy Redburn ? Teachers, to be sure, have put away childish things; they have cultivated literary tastes; they are scholarly. Yet I fail to see how they can make any I76 THE SCHOOL REVIEW use of that voluntary reading, no matter what their Other tastes are, until they have at least a speaking acquaintance with it; or how they can interest their pupils in what they like, until they show them that their teachers are also interested in what they like and naturally enjoy. A teacher of science or mathematics being, as a rule, not a man of literary tastes, often, if not generally, has more reading sympathies with his pupils than does their teacher of English; and, in my mind, there is no doubt that the former, with a little experience, would sur- pass the latter as a teacher of literature. Two other mistakes we English teachers are constantly making. From the nature of our work, we become too much prejudiced against the books our boys and girls are reading. The great majority of them are harmless, often even stimulating, stuffed with moral, gen- erally productive of admirable men and women. They are not positively bad. None of them are utterly worthless. They are only the natural food for boys and girls between the ages of thirteen and twenty. And they agree with them remarkably well. Yet I have heard teachers speak of them before their classes as “trash.” Again, we sometimes forget that literature, in reality, is a thing for the few. People, in general, have never had, and never will have, any artistic sense when it comes to style, Or that subtle quality which all literature possesses. Not one business man in a hundred today reads Macaulay or Addison—or even Irving. Shakespeare, Scott, Tennyson, and Dickens, in leather bindings, are in many parlors where the daily pabulum is the newspapers, magazines, and recent novels. More rare than an ability to appreciate classical music or the masters of painting is the ability to enjoy intensely pure literature. It is a gift, inborn—rarely an acquired taste. Yet I have known teachers who thought that unless boys and girls liked Milton, and that unless men and women read poetry, they were lost. The prejudices of English teachers, the simple and crude quality of pupils' reading, above all the literature studied in class—these are the conditions which practically forbid any serious correlation of voluntary reading and classical high-School English. However, we are unwilling to give up; and many of us are striving, With one experi- ment and another, in spite of the obstacles in Our Way, to bring such READING IN THE CLASSICAL HIGH SCHOOL 177 a relation about. In my own efforts I have worked with two objects in mind; to attack the prescribed classics as though they were one and the same thing as voluntary reading; and to become familiar with the books which my pupils themselves read and enjoy. In the first place, therefore, asfor Macaulay's Essays, or Macbeth, or any of the others, we do not study them. We simply read, not by any means every page, not in all parts thoroughly, seldom twice, never as literature per se, but as something naturally, as a matter of course, to be enjoyed, as a boy enjoys Treasure Island, Tom Saywer, or Oliver Twist. Notes, introductions, lists of dates, suggestions for methods of study, sample questions, all the editing of a modern school classic I never ask a normal, sane pupil to read. Summaries, plans, Outlines, compulsory memory passages, for the most part, at once put a book into that hateful class of books which a bOy calls “dry.” Therefore I cannot afford to use them, no matter what the college requirements may be. Every day I repeat to myself the best advice that was evergiven me: “Literatureis of the spirit and cannot be taught; don't teach, don't preach, don't fall into the routine of grinding. Read, read—inspire interest and hope for the best.” The instant that I see a class making work out of a play of Shake- speare's or Silas Marner I know that I have blundered and begin another book. In this way we regularly spend no more than six recitations with The Ancient Mariner, ten or twelve with Julius Caesar, eight with The Lije oj Goldsmith, never more than ten with Ivanhoe, and so on. - The final result of this method I am not prepared to foretell. Certainly of technical, college examination knowledge the boys would have hardly enough to win honors in Cambridge. But what is much more important, a large number of them seem to look back with real pleasure to what was, although they did not always know it at the time, their study of English literature. And what is more essential still, many of them are so far from that prejudice against literature of which President Hadley has spoken, that I can cherish the hope that some of them will later, of their own accord, read more of the same kind. And this hope is infinitely more comforting than an A at Harvard Or a B at Yale. ? In the second place, I admit frankly to myself that my year of I78 THE SCHOOL REVIEW pedagogical study was time wasted. I realize now that the ideal training for a teacher of English is to spend some time as custodian of the children's department of a large public library. This I have had to discover myself. Now it is too late. And consequently I have had to invent other means by which to keep in touch with what the boys and girls of my classes are reading, that I may talk intelligently when they are eager and able to talk, that I may show interest, just as I want them to show interest. And, after all, how can I expect the one without giving the other? To help me, there- fore, I have each pupil keep a book record—a blank book in which he enters all books which he reads out of school by himself or in connection with his English work; the title, author, form, number of pages, and a paragraph of remarks. These book records we use constantly. I collect them, make suggestions, arrange lists of books highly praised to put On the blackboard, and, as far as possible, read them myself. Then pupils write compositions about them, exchange records tO read each Other's entries, and, above all, draw comparisons wherever possible, between them and the literature we are reading for college. Hardly a period passes without some minutes given to these memoranda; and of all the week these minutes are most heartily enjoyed by pupils and teacher. Certainly, in my mind, there are none more instructive. - - All this naturally takes a vast amount of time. My own tastes I often cannot indulge. At times a skim-milk story of Castleman's will be almost nauseating. Today my three volumes of Lamb's Letters are standing with leaves uncut. But as the years go on my task will grow easier; and meanwhile I am accumulating a mass of general information, and insight into books that children read, which it seems to me is indispensable if I wish to lead them up to Macaulay and Scott, Tennyson and Shakespeare. What, now, is the result of these two methods, or rather what ought the result to be when they are thoroughly tried and perfected ? For as yet they are in but a rudimentary stage. First of all, the English class ought to be “recreation,” not the drill and proverbial training of Latin and Algebra and the rest. It ought to be a place where feelings and tastes can develop, not one more period for intellectual mechanics. . It ought to be an hour largely of reading, or discussion IREADING IN THE CLASSICAL HIGHI SCHOOL I79 guided by the teacher, of reading which will be both the literature prescribed for college, and the voluntary reading of each pupil, so blended together that the boy hardly sees at the time which is which. Then that dark gulf between the two ought, in a great measure, to cease to exist; and, before you know it, your pupils should be coming to a real liking of the best authors in our language. The bridging of that gulf, however, is a most delicate matter. The boy must be led acrossit, not driven. Enticing and even coaxing must enter into the process. Compulsory reading of Macaulay we have; but com- pulsory enjoyment of Macaulay is impossible. A teacher can make no greater blunder than scorning or looking down upon the books that his pupils naturally enjoy. If he does, the gulf between them and literature is certainly widened; for, as someone has said, “half ofteachingis sympathy.” Ishould sooner say to a boy thatbecause he did not enjoy Macbeth he was certainly damned, than tell him that Joe, the Indian Killer, of which he was passionately fond, was “trash.” And yet, with all tact, and in spite of every effort, a gulf will remain. The present conditions, as I said at the beginning, will not allow to any appreciable extent the correlation of which we are speaking. The nature of the classical high-school English is too great an obstacle to be overcome by any device from without. Before we hope for entire success we must remove other “plagues” from our “city of dreadful night.” VOLUNTARY READING IN THE ENGLISH HIGH SCHOOL ILIILIAN B. MINER English High School, Providence, R. I. What the English High School of Providence has to present resembles the crude physics notebook of our pupils—observations heterogeneous, formulæ uncertain, conclusions or inferences scanty and perhaps illogical. More than the classical high School, though perhaps not so much as the elementary school, an English high school is “of the people and for the people.” In its catechism the “chief end*' of boy and girl is not college. The small proportion which it sends to college does not influence much the, tone of the school or the plans of the teachers. That “chief end* is directly, and not through the College, culture and self-support. To our short-sighted pupils and their parents the aim of culture, which includes our topic today, often seems opposed to the aim of self-support. The influ- ence of our commercial department, too, in spite of its broad-minded management, is against culture. In Our School are the girl whose mother cannot read or write in any language; foreigners who never hear intelligible English at home; the stunted little fellow who carries telegrams till midnight; the sleepy boy who was up at half-past four driving a milk-wagon; the delicate girl who is both housekeeper and nursery maid at home; the little chief cook of the family; the boy whose father brings home every night a “yellow journal;” the boy who does not own a single good book; the girls who are receiving from their mother, one by one, for Christmas and birthday gifts, a set of Mary Jane Holmes or of Elsie Dinsmore. Those who go to college from accident and impulse, not from home influence. Our pupils have no inheritance of culture; nor, indeed, does their future promise more than their past. Except for the small college class and the girls who, after a year and a half or two years of Normal training, become teachers in the ele- I Read at the meeting of the Association of Teachers of English in New England, November, I9o4. I8o READING IN THE ENGLISHI HIGHI SCHOOL I8I mentary schools, our pupils at graduation leave behind the world of study. They are now to deal, not with books, except account- books, but with machines, with customers, with kitchen furniture, fancy work, and chafing-dishes. These conditions the teachers in an English high School accept, and to them fit their expectations and aims. There must be a place for the youth of the rising classes. That place is evidently the English high School. Its work has an interest, a pathos, a reward, ând a humor, all its OWn. Because our material is what it is, our experiments will. seem to the college-preparatory teacher to be on a low plane, just as methods proposed and recorded by them seem to us above our level. At the beginning of each year we spend in our School Some time in getting acquainted with our material, a diverting occupation. We give sets of questions like the following: (I) How much time each week do you spend in reading for pleasure ? (2) What books have you read . during the summer vacation (or during the past year) ? Mark with a cross those you like best. (3) What magazines do you read (a) usually ? (b) Sometimes ? (4) How much time each day do you spend in reading the new paper? Of course, we know what sort of answers to expect; but we work better with the facts fresh before us, the answers further our acquaint- ance with individuals, and they vary, from year to year, enough to justify the repeated investigation. Five or six years ago Mrs. Holmes, Pansy, and E. P. Roe led the third-year lists. They still have fol- lowers, and Rosa Carey remains popular, but there is now an excess of recent historical fiction, such as “When Knighthood Was in Flower* and “The Crisis,” and of the latest popular book a little behind time, whether it be “Lovey Mary” or “Elizabeth and Her German Garden.'' The answers point to a few general conclusions: The second year (among the girls) is the transition from boys' books and boarding- school tales to the aforesaid historical romances. The boys during this year outgrow their adored Henty for Scott, Dumas, Stevenson, and Conan Doyle, if indeed these young business men and ball-players find time for any reading. The girls read more than the boys. The lists are often encouraging. Almost all of my third-year class this year report some good, rather old, books. Shakespeare, I82 - - THE SCHOOL REVIEW Robinson Crusoe, Tom Brown, and John Halijax, Jane Eyre and Lorma Doone, are well distributed; as are books by Miss Austen, George Eliot, Thackeray, Dickens, and Stevenson, Mrs. Stowe, Miss Alcott, Miss Jewett, and Mrs. Wiggin. More interesting than the lists, because less stereotyped, are compositions entitled “My Library,” wherein you may be told what books your pupil owns, how she obtained them, which she likes best, whether she has a book- case of her own or only a shelf in the family bookcase, and whether she dusts them herself. “Books of my Childhood* is a good sub- ject, too, for those who have kept from “the dim past,” as they call it—the dingy and torn little volumes. Both lists and compositions awake in the pupil a consciousness in the matter of reading, if not a conscientiousness. - • The tastes and habits of our pupils being somewhat clear to us, we formulate to ourselves our aims for these young readers: more reading, but not too much; better books; independence in reading; the library habit and the buying habit. • Most boys and girls are so constituted that when teachers say, “Read The Rivals,'° they do not read it. Some of them have the intention, but carrying it out means keeping the name in mind until they go to the library, finding the name in the card catalogue, and finding the book “in” when they ask for it. Usually, then, as the sole result of this mention in class, the pupil has a vague impression the next time he hears of the book, that he has heard of it before. The impression is clearer if the names of the book and the author are written on the board and copied in notebooks. In most cases that ends the matter; after examination the notebook is discarded. There are instances to the contrary, but discouragingly few. The testimony of teachers indicates that posted lists are consulted by seniors, less by third-year pupils, hardly at all by entering pupils. Lists are probably more effective when the title is followed by a brief characterization or Outline of the book, such as a publisher introduces into his advertisement. To my third-year questions this fall I added: “What books have you ever read because they were recommended in school?” Only six out of forty-six had none to report. The usual numbers are one, two, and three, occasionally five or six. These include such works as Ramona, The Last Days oj Pompeii, Waverly, IREADING IN THE ENGLISH HIGH SCHOOL I83 The Abbot, prose by Holmes, and poetry by Longfellow and Tenny- son. “Recommended” probably means, in many of these cases, more than merely mentioned in class. Ivanhoe and Kenilworth, for instance, are given by many, but when these are not actually required, they are put into the hands of all pupils and recommended in such a way that the reading of them can hardly be called “volun- tary.” - One of our teachers of first-year English has attained success by accident. Limited as to copies, she furnished the boys of the division with The Pilot, and the girls with The House oj the Seven Gables, letting each section report to the class on its own book. As a result the girls wished to read The Pilot, and the boys The House oj the Seven Gables. Their interest encouraged the teacher to borrow from the public library twenty volumes of Hawthorne and Cooper which are now in lively circulation. » One device I have never found to fail of immediate effect, though it may not aid in forming the habit of the initiative in reading. If I bring in a book to which I wish to introduce the class, read to them one or two wily selections, then offer to lend the book, they all want to borrow it. After Ihad read aloud the fight between Tom Brown and the slugger, every bOy in that second-year class was eager and anxious. Ihad only one copy, but Ilent it; the school now possesses fifty.copies. A judicious selection from Scottish Chiejs, Men oj Iron, brought to terms a queer lot of boys who had prided themselves on their indifference to anything I might plan for their entertainment. By a similar judicious display of sample goods I have circulated Lanier's Knightly Legends and The Boys' King Arthur, Lang's The Book of Romance, Kingsley's Hereward, and Westward Ho! and with more moderate enthusiasm Marjorie Fleming and Rab and His Friends, Judith Shakspere, The Autocrat oj the Breakjast Table, and Old Miracle Plays; and by the same method I could circulate, I am convinced, whatever fit books I should read from, in far larger numbers than I have time to select or means to provide. We need a public school Carnegie. A book in the hand is Worth two in the stack. A school library may increase tenfold the influence of the school upon the pupils' reading—a library with many duplicate copies, a loan library, with a librarian, and I84 J ' ' ' THE SCHOOL REVIEW with easy reading in foreign languages, as- well as our own. The public library does for us all that it can. On our teachers? “books” We may take out twenty volumes at a time, which we may keep for three months, if they are not called for in the meantime. The library is nearthe group of high schools, and pupils sent with names of books desired come back with those volumes which happen to be “in.” The library has provided itself with many duplicate copies of certain books, Suited, however, to the lower schools especially; and any teacher, by sending an Order to the purchasing agent of the school board, may have such books delivered by express at the school- house. But upon a city library there are many demands; and many times, with the best efforts of the librarians, who call in for us the books we wish, we cannot for weeks get what we need. - A novel report comes from the Barrington High School. There the pupils from the little town and the surrounding farms, are utterly without the reading habit, except in a pernicious form. Each pupil is required to read ten good books a year, giving proof by writing, first, reviews, and later, outlines. The town library is in the school building, and after school teacher and pupil together select there a book which the pupil will like. This is ideal—the library, the boy, the devoted teacher, and a leisure hour. The influence has extended to the parents; and we are expecting a coterie of Gibbons and Goethes from Barrington. -. Better than the school library or public library is a library of one's own. The affection recorded by our pupils for their little collections is touching and cheering. One of my girls says: “ Each week my books are dusted carefully. While I am doing this I often open them and read two or three of the first pages of some of them which I have forgotten.*' Another: “Many pleasant hours have I spent with my book. I think, if I had my choice between a day's pleasure trip and a good book, that I would choose the book.” And another: “The pride of my heart is a dear little red-leather Sketch Book. The book-mark is always placed SO that I can turn at once to the descrip- tion of the organ in Westminster Abbey. I think that is one of the most beautiful and realistic passages that I have ever read.” * Now we should like to add to these small libraries books of our own choosing, to divert the dollars spent on sets of Elsie into purer READING IN THE ENGLISH HIGH SCHOOL I85 channels. And here we have a grudge against the free textbooks, otherwise so valuable. In our time we were sure of having bits of standard literature in the readers we had to buy. Nowadays good authors are not inmates of the schoolboy's home; they are only flit- ting visitors. The only remedy is to persuade pupils or parents to buy these books. This some of us felt so strongly that last year we drew up an appeal to parents. After impartially admitting the Con- venience of having textbooks free, we pointed out the greater advant- age of owning them. We said: A book once known becomes a friend. If you own the book, you have your friend with you for help and companionship. Parents and teachers may together encourage a boy or girlto collect a library of good books. Believingthis, we make the following suggestions: I. Find out what books your child wants most, and give these books to him for birthday and Christmas gifts. 2. Encourage him to spend his own money for books. 3. Read his books, talk with him about them, and lethim read to you. While the reading of the best new books is not to be discouraged, these old books cost less and become more highly prized as the years go by. They are used in high schools throughout the United States. They make a good foundation for any library. - We were to accompany this letter by lists of books required in our study of English literature, and by lists of supplementary reading. We thought of sending these lists to the booksellers and department * stores of the city, so that we could promise the parents the certainty of finding there what we recommended. An experienced normal- school teacher, when consulted, expressed approval of the plan. Then it was read to a lawyer and his wife who had a large family of children in school. “What would you think if you should receive this letter?” I asked. . When I had finished it, Mrs. Jones said emphatically: “ Well! I should think it very queer ?” Mr. Jones said nothing, but looked every inch the lawyer. We did not. send the circular. We still think the idea practical, if a wording can be invented to express more truly our feelings, which are neither patron- izing nor arrogant. - - My entering class of girls last year resolved itself, every Friday, into a reading club. Each girl who had read any book during the week reported, telling briefly what it was about and how she liked I86 THE SCHOOL REVIEW it. We all took down in our notebooks the names which I did not veto. Before I dared to pass judgment on some books, I had to borrow them. L. T. Meade's boarding-school girls and Oliver Optic's remarkable young gentlemen were new acquaintances to me. The girls lent their books willingly to me and to their classmates; several good books went the rounds; not a few were sought at the public library with Some success; one or two were received by request, as birthday gifts. The club method was effective, but it was on a plane a little too low. We did not work out of the boarding-school stories as entirely as we Ought. Still, another class might, of itself, seek a higher level, and the teacher could use more upward pressure. The same plan was tried in a second-year class, but without response. Few read, fewer still reported. The method which succeeds with one class will not succeed with the next, for classes differ in personality as individuals differ. The teacher of English literature must forever experiment. She may not rest On her oars, saying with satisfaction: “At last I have developed a method.” She must always feel her way, willing to give up a half-developed scheme, to retract, to change her mind, to invent methods hitherto unheard of, to adopt methods hitherto rejected. The pupils' answers report an appalling number of fiction maga- zines. In no way is reading-time so frittered as On the storiettes which give a nourishment as brief and unsubstantialas the steam from the soup kettle. Nor is the magazine habit cured by years, like the Henty and Elsie habits; a humilating proportion of intelligent Ameri- can adults read nothing else. The average given in the April leaflet on voluntary reading of four periodicals to a pupil I find rather low than high. Perhaps it is raised by my newsboy who makes the most of his opportunities and reads for nothing several fashion journals before he delivers them to his female customers. There is a legitimate use of the magazines. Possibly if the best periodicals were available in a School library, and certain valuable articles were brought to the attention, not so much poOr fiction would be selected. As to the newspapers, among the answers this year was the following: “My main hold in reading is the newspaper and every interesting account of anything I cut Out and save. In later years I propose to have them all united into a Scrapbook.” The READING IN THIE ENGLISH HIGH SCHOOL 187 conclusions of the April leaflet of this association are: “There is not enough reading of the daily newspapers by many,” and “there is excessive reading of daily newspapers by Some, and unintelligent reading of them by many.” Unintelligent the reading no doubt is, but in a third-year division of fifty, about one-third average fifteen minutes daily, one-third half an hour—surprisingly sensible averages. Only five or six read more than that, only one reads not at all. Seven read occasionally. Pupils may be trained to read the newspaper wisely by giving a few minutes of Some history recitations to the reporting of current events. This plan may result in a journal or two being brought into the schoolroom, and in a wild scramble On the part of friends and neighbors through its columns. Connection is often visible between current events and the history we are studying. Labor troubles happened as long ago as the Black Death; and when the Archbishop of Canterbury came to Boston, we were glad that we knew how he and not another came to be the head of the English church. One of our Providence papers published one morning lately a comparison of thesiege of Port Arthur with those of Carthage, Rome, and Constantinople. Regardless of correlation, I have encouraged items scientific or local; on successful air-ships, color photography, the securing of Boston symphony concerts for Our City, the loan exhibit by American artists at our School of Design. This is a course in gen- eral information, in “knowing something about everything.” Pupils who may not have taken kindly to history are revealed in a new light— . wide-awake, mature in judgment, thoughtful, original; for reporting leads often to discussion of a length which would be impossible in a class obliged to Cover certain hundreds of pages within certain days. It may be that the Course in current events is a privilege peculiar to an English high School. .- In unresponsive classes activity may be induced by giving out general topics to individuals or, better, to sections. Half of the room for example, was one day to be prepared on foreign news, the Other half on home news. The next day the arrangement was reversed and the stimulus of the harmless rivalry was evident. I confess that I have never yet succeeded in arousing the majority of a class to bringing in items habitually, but those who do not speak, listen. Maps, blackboard diagrams of military positions, general explana- I88 THE SCHOOL REVIEW tions by the teacher, are helpful. It means that I must rise early in the morning and scan the news columns before breakfast, that I may supplement and revise the items reported. Sometimes my items are the only ones, but there is a gradual increase in the number of reporters. What We must mainly depend upon to develop so strong a liking for good literature thatit shall govern voluntary reading, is the regular class study laid down in the daily schedule. It is by the intensive study of masterpieces that the critical faculty is trained for practical use. Every other piece of literature looks different after such a study. Even though it cause some temporary weariness, the per- manent result is good. I do not believe that the “double life in things literary” goes on forever, if the class study of good things is at all what it may be. These experiments in voluntary reading are only supplements, to be worked in as time and occasion allow. No college examinations, no precedent, no theories of others or our own, no poverty of material can acquit us, after four years of daily contact in the classroom, for the failure to develop, in most of our pupils, the elementary knowledge of good and evil in things literary, and the embryo passion for the good. DISCUSSION Alfred H. Hitchcock, of the Public High School, Hartford, Conn., said, among Other things: I. The increasingly common practice of making the English recitation merely a pleasant hour devoted primarily to discussing cheap favorites has many real dangers. There is, of Course, a tendency to aim too high; yet it should be remembered that real enjoyment, real appreciation, rarely comes save through labor. The student of literature, like the student of any other art, must work. 2. To say that with one or two exceptions the present College require- ments are absurdly inappropriate is hardly respectful to the College pro- fessors and the hundreds of high-school teachers who sanction them. It may take years of experimenting to find the best way of presenting the Conciliation Speech and Milton's lyrics; it certainly requires more skill to handle the Milton lyrics than it does to play with the works of G. A. Henty. Not only must pupils work; teachers must work too. READING IN THE ENGLISH HIGH SHCOOL I89 3. Those who recommend the abolishment of the present college requirements, and the substitution of much easier and inferior classics to be studied in a wholly agreeable way, show very little faith in the ability of the average teacher to make his work profitable, and still less faith in the hardihood of the- average pupil. A love for literature which can be blighted by the Conciilation Speech or the Essay on Milton is hardly worth Coddling. - . r • I wish to take advantage of this opportunity to submit for considera- tion a plan for relating voluntary reading to the pupil's individuality. What the pupil is asked to do: (1) Make a list of five topics on which he thinks he or some other member of the class might be able to write entertainingly. (2) Give the titles of five books he has read and is willing to recommend to his mates. (3) Describe, in a single paragraph, one of the books recommended. (4) Write an 8oo-word composition on one of the topics he has suggested or on one of twenty-five selected by the instruc- tor from all the topics mentioned by the class. - - What the teacher does: (1) Through studying book list, topic list, book review, and composition, he tries to find the boy—the individual. (2) Having corrected the composition and complimented its good points, he adds a few lines regarding the pupil's reading, if possible praising the list . of books submitted, never condemning it in a cutting way, and suggests a few volumes, found in other lists, which may prove enjoyable. (3) To supplement this individual prescription, he gives to the entire class an informal yet serious talk on the dangers of too much promiscuous reading, and calls attention to perhaps twenty good books recommended by various members. Professor Winter, of Harvard College, chairmam of the Committee on the Establishment of Local Conferences for Special Work, made the following report: –< This Committee offers a report in favor of establishing local sections or con- ferences for special work. . It is the idea of the committee that such sections, or “shop clubs,” serving - as rallying centers for teachers, may be a means of accomplishing some definite work, and may, in several ways, be of advantage to the association. They there- fore recommend that local sections be formed by members of the association, for systematic work in such subjects as each section may choose; that such members as approve of this and are willingto act, hand in their names, today, to the president of the association; that he choose from this number persons who shall undertake to act as starters or leaders in the localities represented; that these leaders, in the ^ name of the association, invite persons, who may or may not be association mem- bers, to become members of these sections or clubs, and that these clubs be con- I9o J ^ - THE SCHOOL REVIEW ducted, with regular meetings for a given time, with the view to a specific work, and according to a specific plan. In the case of certain of the subjects suggested, it may be advisable—for securing definite results—that some system of criticism be adopted for the work of each meeting. It is hoped that the possible social features of such meetings, as well as the intellectual fellowship of them, may be additional recommendations. A report of the results of the undertaking—at the annual meeting—if such sections are formed, is regarded as desirable. The interest of the committee has been directed especially to the subject of oral reading. They wish strongly to emphasize their belief in the value of oral work in connection with the teaching of English. They believe that this work, done in this connection, is the best means of teaching English speech, and that it contributes materially, in ways that are well understood, to effective instruction in written English. The question is seriously raised as to whether substantially all the energy and means now given to occasional—oftentimes harmful—exercises in declamation, might not better be devoted to systematic instruction, by simple and natural methods, in oral English, alongside the instruction in written English. The committee, therefore, especially recommends, as possibly a step in increasing interest in this subject, the formation of local sections for oral reading. As a help to this end, a program has been drawn up, and printed in the form of an association leaflet, intended as a suggestion for Some effective scheme of work. [After luncheon, Professor Winter explained this program with demonstrative readings to an interested audience. Over fifty members of the association have volunteered for active service in local sections, and “starters'' have been appointed in Boston, Worcester, Framingham.] -. Reprinted from THE SCHOOL REVIEw, Vol. XVII, No. I, January, 19o9 ** MAKE-BELIEVE GRAMMAR'° * GERTRUDE BUCK Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, N. Y. Richard Grant White's statement that “nearly al1 of our so- called English grammar is mere make-believe grammar” ' has recently been quoted with approval by Professor Tolman, of the University of Chicago, in his interesting account of “The Re- viva1 of English Grammar.” * By “make-believe grammar* both writers mean, as Professor Tolman states, the application of rules modeled upon those of the highly inflected Latin language to the facts of the English tongue, which is almost wholly unin- flected. As conspicuous examples of such unwarranted borrOw- ings from Latin grammar are cited the objective case of nouns and the agreement of finite verbs with their subjects. In both these instances we have in English no modification of form to correspond with the Latin nomenclature; yet the nomenclature persists, with the necessary result that insensibly the pupil comes to regard the English tongue as falling short at many points of . the accepted standard. Any well regulated language will, it is assumed, modify the form of a noun when it serves as direct object of a verb and that of a finite verb to agree with its subject in person and number. Since English does neither of these things, so much the worse for English. And from such entirely reasonable inferences the pupil cannot but derive an essentially false conception of his mother-tongue, a conception undefined, unacknowledged, but no less real and permanent, that the English language is a kind of inferior or degenerate Latin. This species of “make-believe grammar,” however, is pretty generally recognized and need not detain us long. Professor Earbour in his admirable “History of English Grammar Teach- * Read before the Michigam Schoolmasters' Club, Ann Arbor, Michigam, April 2, I 9o8. - * Words and Their Uses, p. 3o4. * School Review, February, I9o2. 2I 22 THE SCHOOL REVIEW -. Q- ing'' * has indicated its source in the Latinistic conceptions of English held by our earliest grammarians and has traced at least the beginnings of its decline under the influence of the wider linguistic knowledge of their successors. Professor Tolman cites Jespersen's Progress in Lamguage, with Especial Reference to English, as competent authority for regarding the relatively uninflected English tongue as a stage, not in the deterioration Or decay, but in the progressive evolution of language-structure. We are all theoretically at one upon this matter, it would seem, and though some details of reform demanded by the protestants may not be at once yielded by the practical teacher of grammar, the direction of our advance lies clear before us. English gram- mar must be presented as the formulated laws of English speech. This essentially scientific attitude toward the facts of the English language is already exemplified to a marked degree in our modern treatment of questions of usage. Professors Brander Matthews and G. R. Carpenter, of Columbia Uni- versity, Professor Scott, of the University of Michigan, and Professor Lounsbury, of Yale, have taught us that the old fash- ioned dogmatism of grammarians as to how people “ought'' to speak is too commonly based on ignorance of the idiomatic peculiarities of our own language, of the past history of certain forms, or of present customs of speech outside a very limited circle. The more a man knows about any language the more clearly he sees it as a living, growing, changing thing; and the less willing is he to impose upon it an arbitrary legislation drawn . from the usages of other tongues, from past usages of its own, or even from present usages not widely representative. Both theoretically then, and in at least one notable point of practice, “make-believe grammar” of the type so far discussed in this paper has fallen into disrepute. There seems little room for doubt that it will eventually, and at no remote period, be superseded in every detail by a grammar which bases itself un- equivocally upon the facts of the English tongue as English. But the term “make-believe grammar” need not be confined to this fictitious structure of laws, terms, and definitions built * Educational Reviezw, December, I 896. ** MAKE-BELIEVE GRAMMAR” 23 up by analogy from another language and without firm founda- tion in the facts of English speech. There is another species, no less figmentary than this, and in my judgment far more fundamentally misleading to the pupil; that grammar, I meam, which is derived not only from speech that is not English, but from speech that is not, in any genuine sense, speech at all. Our early grammarians, we allege, turned away their eyes from the facts of English speech and gave us rules drawn by analogy from the usages of the Latin tongue. But have not grammar- ians of all languages and all times, too frequently turned away their eyes from the facts of speech itself, from the language process as we understand it today, and given us laws from the dead and detached product of that process? If this be true, we have a fictitious construction in English grammar considerably more important as it is both deeper-lying and farther-reaching than the mere Latinizing of English. - Is it, however, true? Almost infallibly one is assured upon the first page of every textbook on English grammar that “language is a means of communication.” And from this indubi- table, though somewhat shadowy declaration, we should naturally expect to proceed by observing certain cases in which an idea is conveyed from one mind to another and analyzing the process as reflected in the language used. The office of various elements involved in this communication would then presumably be noted, and the elements defined on this basis. That is, one would analyze a sentence as the unit of language, to discover the parts of speech. But instead of this the accredited procedure up to a very recent date, both for textbook and for teacher, has been first to define the parts of speech in turn and then proceed to join certain of them together in such fashion as to make what was called a sentence. A noun, that is a word, representing a person or thing was prefixed to a verb, that is, a word standing for an action or a state of being, and behold a sentence! Thirty years ago pupils were not infrequently re- quired to manufacture sentences after this method, of which a reductio ad absurdum appears in the following “direction” 24 THE SCHOOL REVIEW ι J \ taken from Reed and Kellogg's Higher Lessons in English.* “Unite the words in columns 2 and 3 below [auxilliaries appear in column 2, past participles in column 3] and append the verbs thus formed to the nouns and pronouns in column I so as to make good sentences.” And the implication that this is the typical sentence-structure, that language is a mechanical aggre- gation of separate elements, appears continually in the definitions and rules current during this period. In his Essentials of Eng- lish Grammar,° Whitney assures us that the parts of speech must be “joined'' together, “in order to make a whole, in order to be speech.” “For a sentence,” he declares further, “there must be not only words of more than one kind, but words of certain kinds, fitted together in certain ways.” (The italics are, of course, mine.) Nor can we “make a complete sentence without joining together a subject and a predicate.” There could be no more unequivocal statement of the con- ception of language as a mechanical aggregation of separate words. And I might quote interminably from Whitney's con- temporaries, even, I regret to say, from some modern textbooks also, equally direct implications of this conception. It is doubtless true that to the grammarian of an older genera- tion there was no apparent inconsistency between this e pluribus unum conception of sentence-structure and the statement that language communicates the speaker's thought, since to the crude psychology which he had inherited from a still earlier time thought itself was “a thing of shreds and patches.” One was, indeed, supposed to think first “house'' and then “burning'' and then put these two thoughts together before he could think—or say—“the house is burning.” Granting this as a true account of the structure of thought, language might with entire consistency be described as a similar adding of word to word. But we al1 know now, that whatever else this splicing of “percept' to “concept'' may be, it is not in the genuine sense of the term “thought,'' any more than a leaf, a stem and a root tied together are a plant. The leaf, the stem and the root are * Lesson I I. ° Chap. ii. “MAKE-BELIEVE GRAMMAR” 25 found in the plant as the ideas of house and burning are found in the thought that the house is on fire; but as the plant is a living growth, which has put out root, stem, and leaf, so the thought is an organic structure out of which its constituent ideas have developed. From a confused sense of something wrong perhaps as one suddenly wakes out of sleep, grows the single thought of the whole situatiom, namely, the house's being on fire, in which neither the house as such nor the act of burning as such have any separate existence. The thought is, in truth, one before it is many. The growing plant or animal is its fair analogy, not the mosaic or the stone wall. This organic conception of thought the present generation of English grammar teachers have gained from psychology and from real logic. And further, all that we know of the structure of language from modern philologists and students of literature goes to show that it, tOO, is a living, growing thing, not in any sentimental or remotely analogical sense, but as sober, scientific fact. The sentence which is spliced together out of the “parts of speech” is, in truth, no sentence at all. It is not language any more than a company drill is fighting, or a scarecrOw a man. Thought which is living, growing, organic in structure, cannot be conveyed or represented by a lifeless, static, artificia1 construction. Nor are we studying language by studying such a construction. The sentences which grammar presents to us have in very truth ceased to be language, once they have been cut off from all reference to the various acts Of thought-communica- tion which gave rise to them, so that they seem to exist in and for themselves, mere mechanical congeries of words, brought together only to fulfil certain arbitrary requirements of the sentence form as such. That an artificial conception of the sentence similar to this, and directly at variance with our best knowledge of its nature and structure at the present time, has conditioned much teaching of English grammar in the past, seems to be indubitable. And that this false conception has actually been conveyed to pupils through their study of English grammar I also believe. A 26 • THE SCHOOL REVIEW C • 3 priori we should, indeed, expect it to be so. The mind of the child is extraordinarily sensitive to the images latent in our phrases. Professor Scott's paper on the “Figurative Element in Grammatical Terminology"° discloses some quite unforeseen conclusions drawn by the young pupil from the uses in grammar of such supposably abstract and wholly technical terms as “case,” “agree,” “govern,” “decline.” And it is hardly conceivable that he should be insensitive to the suggestions of mechanical aggre- gation offered by such words as “joined with,” “fitted together,” “added to,” “put with,” “put together with,” or “put along with,” which in the older textbook are continually applied to the rela- tions of words with one another in the sentence. The expectation, moreOver, that images of sentence-structure, as mechanical rather than organic, must inevitably be carried by language of this sort, has been abundantly confirmed by such data upon the subject as I have been able to gather for myself. From time tO time during the past few years I have taken occa- sion to inquire into the ideas of language-structure and function actually carried away by children from their study of English grammar. Students in both high school and college have written for me at various times answers to the following questions: “What image (or picture) stood for the sentence in your mind after you had first studied grammar in schoo1? What did you then think a sentence was for ? *' Though many pupils were of course conscious of no definite image, and many saw the sentence always in terms of the formal diagram they had been taught to use, the remaining answers all but invariably indicated both an artificial conception of sentence structure and a complete dis- sociation of the sentence from any purpose other than that of serving as a grammatical exercise. The picture suggested might be a string of beads, a line of wooden blocks, a train of cars, a card-house, a square of crazy patchwork; but it was almost invariably a whole made up of separate things put together in a certain way. And these things were put together, not in order to express an idea to someone else, but simply to—why, to make ° Leaflet No. 36, published by the New England Association of Teachers of English. ** MAKE-BELIEVE GRAMMAR” 27 a sentence! “It was built up by somebody,” says one student, “just as a block house might have been—for no purpose but to pull it down again.” “I never thought a sentence was for any- thing but to study,” sadly remarks another; while a third volunteers the admission that, though “a sentence in grammar” seemed to her as a child, like a square of patchwork, she does not think of “a rea1 sentence'' in this way—“one that comes in my reading, I mean.” This pointed distinction between “a real sentence" and “a sentence in grammar,” has been repeatedly implied in the statements of different pupils, and seems to me worthy of serious consideration. Such inquiries as this are no doubt relatively unimpressive to anyone who receives them at second hand ; but I believe that any teacher who, without prejudice, undertakes a similar line of in- vestigation for himself, will come upon some astonishing and not insignificant revelations as to the vestigia left in the child's mind from his study of English grammar. Most convincing of all, to me, upon this point, however, are the unconscious betrayals to the teacher of literature' or composition of a pupil's unrecog- nized sense of language as dissociated from the living thought process, an artificial structure of mere words for no end save that of meeting a requirement or “showing off' one's skill. Sometimes in such cases the Source of this idea of language seems to lie back of any larger study of writing or literature in some obscure but persistent image, finally traced to the pages of the grammar textbook or to the lips of the grammar teacher, an image of the sentence as a “made-up'* thing, consisting of words put together to form a certain pattern or to exemplify a given rule. Such a deep-lying, inwOven conception, as many of us know, goes not out by prayer or fasting. Only the expulsive power of a new and truer image will avail; and upon the task of making an entrance for such an image into the preoccupied mind, presenting it again and again, etching it deeper and deeper Over the lines of the old picture—upon this task, sometimes seem- ingly hopeless, many teachers of composition and literature are today expending their best efforts. No real writing, no real 28 - THE SCHOOL REVIEW reading can be done by the student until works become to him direct and genuine expressions of thought. But surely all this labor to restore a vital significance which need never have been lost, is an indefensible waste in education. ! It is only fair to say, however, that year by year such cases as this become fewer, in my own experience at least. And they would reach the vanishing-point within a college generation or so, if only our growing sense of the fatuity of teaching a pupil in English grammar ideas of language which must be with infinite difficulty unlearned when he studies composition and literature could be reinforced by an unerring choice of means for imparting tO him the truer and more permanent conception of language as organic. This last is, indeed, the crux of the practical situation. Since the reign of W. D. Whitney and of Reed and Kellogg in the field of English grammar we have unquestionably advanced several steps in the direction of teaching the actual structure of language; but the tale is not yet fully told. Many of our recent textbooks strive, with varying success, to keep the “real sentence” and the sentence of grammar from invidious separation in the pupil's mind. They forbear to require the manufacture of imi- tation sentences, according to a formula furnished by them. Instead of “building'' sentences to order after this fashion, they rather study such sentences as grow. naturally out of the student's own thought or such as easily communicate to him the thought of another person, and hence become vicariously his own. These sentences are not mere puzzles, combinations of words in a certain pattern. They exist tO convey thought, and do convey it to the pupil, since it is thought of a type which either is already or readily may become his. And at least the vanguard of our grammar teachers at the present time see that whether the pupil himself actually makes the sentence or whether it is suggested to , him, he does not study its structure until it is to him a living sentence, a real expression of thought. The modern textbook and the modern teacher, moreover, insist upon studying the parts of speech as derived from the sentence, not the sentence as made up from the parts of speech. “MAKE-BELIEVE GRAMMAR” 29 u They attempt, at least, to define each part of speech by the actua1 service it renders in conveying the thought of the sentence as a whole, rather than as merely representing some particular class of things in the world. This is a little fire, but it kindles a great matter. Verbs do, no doubt, in the realm of words, roughly correspond to actions or “states of being” in the world of things, nouns to persons or things, adjectives to the qualities of persons or things, prepositions to relations between persons and things, and so on. But to define a verb, a noun, an adjective, and a preposition in this way is certainly to give color to the mechanical conception of sentence-structure. Join a person or thing to an action, a quality to the person Or thing, a relation to another thing, and the two to the action, and you have a thought. In the same fashion unite a noun with a verb, an adjective with the noun, a preposition with another noun, and the two with the verb, and behold the language-structure corresponding to the thought. Such is the implication of these definitions. If, how- ever, the subject as a whole has been first distinguished from the predicate as a whole, on the basis of the different function each performs in conveying the thought of the whole sentence, if then each part of speech is similarly discriminated from every other on the basis of its office in developing further any element of the thought, the adjective, for instance, being defined by virtue of its function as particularizing in various ways the meaning of a noun or pronoun, an adverb as discriminating the precise manner or conditions of the action indicated by the verb—if, in short, a vivid sense of the activity of the whole sentence and of all its parts in the communication of thought underlies every definition and rule, we have at least an honest effort to deal with real language and to represent it as it is. - Attempts of this sort are certain to be faulty in detail until we have become more completely interpenetrated than any of us can be as yet with the functional conception of the sentence. But they serve at least to point the way of our advance in the rational and scientific teaching of English grammar. We know that the study of English grammar has long since 3o THE SCHOOL REVIEW ceased to justify itself as a practical art. It has been pretty thoroughly demonstrated in experience that by parsing words and memorizing rules children do not learn to speak and write correctly. There remains, then, to the subject, only such justifi- cation as it may fairly claim on grounds of being a science, the theoretic formulation of the laws of the English language within the limits of the sentence-form. But this justification is surely imperiled by the charge of unscientífic method and conclusion brought against it by students of comparative philology, in their contention that English grammar treats and represents the Eng- lish language not as English but as a hybrid or deteriorated Latin. And still more conclusively we must admit does English grammar forfeit its justification to a place in the curriculum of studies as the science or theory of the English sentence, if it continues to treat its subject-matter in a fashion essentially un- scientific, averting the eyes from the facts of genuine speech and writing, to analyze instead a fictitious construction of its own; if it studies and presents to pupils, in lieu of the living language, an artificial substitute manufactured by the grammarian and with- out real existence or usefulness in the world ; if it holds and conveys to students false conceptions of the English language not only as English but also as language itself. This is “make-believe grammar” in its deadliest aspect. Until we have done with it entirely we cannot begin to enter into the possibilities which real grammar offers to education in these present days. & A word only in conclusion as to these possibilities. If we pass in review the great tendencies and achievements in educa- tion for the past half-century, we may note one principle as common to them all—the principle, namely, of displacing a formula by an activity, second-hand by first-hand knowledge. The laboratory method in natural science thus substitutes the pupil's own drawing of inferences and formulation of laws for his acceptance of them ready-made as the products of other people's observations and induction. He sees, traces out, con- trols, and analyzes the processes giving rise to the formulae which once he merely memorized from the pages of a book. And ** MAKE-BELIEVE GRAMMAR” 3I wherever the experimental method has obtained, even in sub- jects once regarded as insusceptible of scientific treatment, such as psychology and history, the observation of activities has sup- planted the mere learning of the results of these activities. In manual training we have a further instance of the trans- mutation of dead fact into living action. Those facts and prin- ciples of measurement, calculation, physical properties, which were once given directly to the student as rules or formulae to be learned, are now encountered by him as he follows step by step some active process in which they are involved. He thus grasps them more readily and retains them more easily, since they represent to him the living conditions or results of an activity which he has himself witnessed or carried on. Of similar significance is that interesting type of primary education which uses the primitive industrial processes, such as pottery making, weaving, iron and metal work, not only to train the eye, the hand, and the mind of the pupil, but to afford him some insight into the complex social organization of which he is a part. By following out these processes from their crude beginnings to their complicated development in the present industrial order, the child is believed to gain not only a vital and thorough knowledge of the facts and principles incident to them throughout their evolution, but also some comprehension of those infinitely tangled and multitudinous activities which con- stitute the world's life, but which to those of us not thus initiated are usually little more than a “big blooming buzzing Confusion.” With the relative values of these various educational move- ments we are not now concerned. Our interest is wholly in the coincidence of their animating ideas, a coincidence which can hardly be regarded as purely accidental. Beneath innumerable differences of superficial aspect, these three noteworthy ten- dencies in modern education are rooted in the same elementary principle, namely that the products or results of an active pro- cess cam be rightly understood and strongly seized upon by the human mind only in connection with that process. Within the field of language-study, moreover, this principle 32 THE SCHOOL REVIEW has to some extent already obtained. The historical and the comparative study of languages and literature is in fact built upon it. Our teaching of English composition has for several years paid tribute to it. In English grammar, last of all, we are beginning to recognize it. In this subject, therefore, we have yet to receive the returns which its completer acceptance and more consistent carrying out have elsewhere yielded. These returns are so far conceded that I need only enumerate them. The laboratory method, manual training, the study of social and industrial activities, the organic or functional study of languages, of literature, of English composition, restore to dead forms, detached facts, meaningless laws, the color, the life, the significance which they have lost through separation from the activities which gave them birth. Such restoration will assuredly take place in grammar—has indeed already taken place wherever the organic conception of language has entered into it. When we have at length dismissed entirely from our teach- ing that artificial product of the grammarian's ingenuity which I cannot forbear characterizing as “near-language,” and set our pupils in earnest to studying the language process by direct analysis of the sentence-activity, we shall find this subject richer in its opportunities than any of us has conceived. In the first place the language process is not, like weaving or pottery making, obsolete in our modern households. It is at hand when- ever and wherever one wants it. It is carried on by every child without self-consciousness as an essential activity in his daily 1ife. It may be studied without elaborate apparatus of any kind. Since it involves abstract relations, without that actual manipula- tion of materia1 substance characteristic of the industrial pro- cesses, it should doubtless not be the earliest activity studied by the child; but we must not on the other hand forget that when every 1anguage relation is consistently referred to the concrete reality behind the words, intelligent dealing with it becomes comparatively easy even for pupils in the lower grades. But beyond its extraordinary availability, the language prO- cess has a second and quite incommensurable advantage Over any “MAKE-BELIEVE GRAMMAR” • 33 other process as a subject for study, in its unrivaled importance to the social order. If it is held advisable that the young student should understand certain industria1 processes, that he may thereby gain some insight into this complicated modern world of ours, he should assuredly to this same end apply himself to that great process of communication by language between man and man, through which alone the individual can put his knowl- edge and thought at the service of his fellows, through which alone society can profit by the achievements of its members. It is with this act, rightly understood, that grammar has to deal, not with mere words printed on the page. And in so far as it studies this act at first hand, observing and analyzing it as communication, as the living transference of thought from mind to mind, creating thus and shaping to its ends the sentence form—in so far may it be accounted real grammar. 20 CONTRIBUTIONS TO RHETORICAL THEORY EDITED BY FRED NEWTON SCOTT, PH. D. Professor of Rhetoric in the University of Michigam VII THE VALUE OF ENGLISH TO THE PRACTICING ENGINEER ANN ARBOR, MICH. LIBRARY PRINTING PLANT 1 9 0 6 P R E F A C E The letters contained in this number of Contributions were recently published by the University of Michigan for distribution among the students of the Department of En- gineering. Having served their original purpose of stimulating interest in the study of English Composition, they are now reprinted as a document in rhetorical theory. Regard- ed from this point of view their interest and value lies in the fact that they are the frank opinions of men who are accustomed to regard their mother-tongue not as a means of amusement or self-gratification, but as an instrument for directing the l ehavior of their fellow- iijen. They thus furnish data. so far as they go, for solving the most fundamental of rhetorical problems. The original purpose for which the letters were obtained, and the mode of obtaining them, are explained by Mr. Breitenbach in his introductory note. —THE EDITOR. T H E VA LU E O F E N G LIS H TO T H E PRACTICING ENG IN EER [In this pamphlet will be found the opinions of a number of practicing engineers upon the value of a training in English. Originally written as letters to students of the Engineering Department of the University of Michigan, these opinions are here reproduc- ed for the benefit of other students and of all who are interested in problems of education. The letters were the outcome of a discussion which arose some months ago in a class of junior engineers. The question under consideration was the comparative vaIue of pure and applied science in the engineering curricuIum. As was natural perhaps, every member of the class upheld the superior value of applied science, on the ground that it was more ** practical.** This led to an inquiry into the character of a liberal education and the relation of science and culture, and in this connection the following questions arose: 1. Is the study of English part of the cultural or of the practical training of the engineer? 2. Should essay-subjects for engineering students be drawn from the students' general interests, or be confined to the scientific and technical field? Incidental- ly it appeared that some members of the class were in doubt whether training in English was of special value to engineers. In order to answer these questions and allay the doubt which had arisem, it seemed wise to refer the points at issue to practicing engineers whose experience would qualify them to speak with authority. •. Accordingly a list was made of about eighty successful engineers who since leaving the University had each had from five to ten years of professional activity. The students were then required to address letters to these graduates asking them: « 1. To express their opinions on the value of training in English to the practicing engineer. 2. To cite any cases in which such training had been of special value to them. 3. To offer suggestions, drawn from their experience, for the course in English in the Engineering Department. - - To these letters about one half of the number addressed were kind enough to reply —a much larger proportion than was anticipated, since engineers do not, as a rule, have time for what may be called literary correspondence. From these replies the following material has been selected. Taking the letters as a whole and examining them with reference to the first of the questions above, the most striking feature of them is their unanimity. AIl the writers agree that training in English is one of the engineer's most valuable assets. Many advise an increase in the required work in this subject, and several go so far as to recommend a year in the Literary Department. - - The replies to the second question mention as the chief appIication ofthe engineer's training in English, the writing of reports, specifications, contracts, etc. Several cases are cited of engineers who have made writing their life-work, that is, who have gone into catalogue-writing, technical journalism, and the like. In the case of the third question the replies are less uniform, but all lay stress upon 2 The Value of English the need of long-continued practice under- guidance and criticism. The kind of essay- subjects does not appear to be of much importance provided the topics are such as inter— est the Student. • lt is to be regretted that of so many interesting and valuable letters only a few could be published. Those that are reproduced, however, are representative and fairly indicate the consensus of opinion. It remains to acknowledge the courtesy of those who have contributed to the success of the plan by devoting to the subject the time and thought of busy men. They may be sure that the spirit of earnest unselfishness in which the letters were Written will find a quick response in the hearts of the younger generation. H. P. BREITENBACH, Instructor in Rhetoric.] ù 1 [From the assístant to the chief engineer of am important construction company.] l have your favor of December 18th, and am delighted to have the opportunity of discussing with you the need of a thorough training in English for a member of the en— gineering profession. • • In the first place, one must keep in mind that an engineer should be, above all other things, a man—well-balanced, broad-minded and capable of taking a place in the community that will reflect credit on his profession. He should be fitted to discharge the duties imposed upon all men who have special endowments or exceptional opportunity. The broadest and most thorough general culture that one can have is not too good for a man who is tO be an active member of society or a representative citizen in the state. I do not know that this consideration is especially applicable to your question any more than a similar query with reference to any other branch of what may be properly termed ** culture study** ; I do know that English is at least as important as the study of any of the other humanities. When one comes to consider the proposition from a slightly more selfish and more nar- row point of view, the work in English becomes of paramount importance, since the intel- ligent expression of ideas will often do more to put one in touch with his working associ- ates than having the ideas themselves. I do not mean by this that ** running the bluff?” is conducive to prominent or enviable success, but that a good appearance and the ability to show people that one has ideas in his mimd will go far towards gaining respect and confidence. . I cannot say a great deal about the specific uses of the proper English training by an engineer, except to call to your attention the fact that most of the ** big°° work of the erigineer is done with the typewriter rather than with the slide-rule or T-square; in other words, you will probably find after graduation that highly technical work, while ab- solutely essential, is not the work which alone will command the highest places profes- sionally. From this it results that accuracy and clear:.ess in expression, the ability to differentiate between expressions which will irritate and those which will stimulate—in short, the ability to convey to a nother man in cold type the exact impression which you wish him to receive, is a prime requisite. . Loosely-worded specifications and in- accurate contractS are perhaps the most fruitful Source of contention, difficulty, and ex- pense in work where contracts are involved; and you will most certainly find that your official chiefs will expect any reports which you make for them to be such that they may get at the meat of the subject reported without having to make a large alJowance for your personal equation in the matter of diction. ] cannot give any concrete instances of what you wish, for the reason that exper- ience has indicated that loose, inelegant, and indefinite English is, among engineers, de- cidedly the rule—this, doubtless, in consequence of the fact that we are required less fre- quently than clerics, doctors, and barristers to present an academic education as a pre- liminary to our more narrowly technical work. . The demands of office routine prevent me from replying as fully as | should like t0 your request for suggestions as to the preparation in English to be given to engineers. I will say briefly, however, that at least.one hour a day each term throughout the Whole course would be not at all unprofitable, most of that time to be spent in the study of literary English, as distinguished from the class of work which was given in ^ur depart- ment in my undergraduate days, and which I believe is given largely at the present time. To the Pracficing Engineer 3 Very few professional men have anything like a correct literary taste, a thing which is of more vital significance tban you perhaps feel now. My personal experience was that after leaving the atmosphere of refinement and culture of Ann Arbor and getting into the decidedly material ten or twelve hours a day of factory life, I needed something to fall back upon for mental and moral stimulus. Social recreation is seldom offered to a young fellow just out of college in quite the same way that you find it in our little Washtenaw town; and good reading, music, and meritorious plays will go a long way toward filling up the void. While this last suggestion is generally applicable to professional men, l think 'it applies especially to the case of engineers, since our work is usually stripped of al! the more subtle influences of intimate personal association which are so essential, especially to younger men. - v. . II [From am architect, contractor, and inventor in a large westemm caty.] I wish to thank you for writing to me requesting my opinion regarding the degree of proficiency in the use of English needed by an engineer. - - - I can hardly express myself in sufficiently strong terms regarding such need. Eng- ineering of today does not mean alone drafting, shop work, inspection and Other duties which place the engineer as a subordinate under other officers. The engineer of ambition should strive to be in charge of work, and especially in charge of its commercial end. In my mind, the really successful engineer is the one who stands at the head of an industriaf organization, who mamages and leaves the subordinate dutjes to others. In such a managing position a tborough knowledge of English is an absolute requisite. The engineer in this position is called upon to formulate propositions and contracts, His cor- respondence becomes one of the very large essentials of his duties. A perfect command of the English language places him in a decidedly superior position. The engineer in the position of industrial manager should controlthe advertisements, the sales department, and the manufacturing department. In other words, with the super- ior training he has received he should be in a position to hanàle every branch of a manu- facturing concern; and to make himself fulIy efficient in that position, a thorough know- ledge of English is one of the fundamental requisites. In my opinion, therefore, too much stress cannot be laid upon proper training in this respect. - Personally, I feel that I never have given this portion of my college education suffi- cient attention. While at the University I never realized that those studies which are apparently not at all engineerlng are in reality fully as important as are calculus, mech- anics, drafting, etc. An engineering student should mot try fo become a practical mam at the Univem sit4/. He has forty years after the University life in which to become a practical man, but he has only four years in which to become a thoroughly theoretical and polished íma I]. • Give me therefore at all times the graduate student with a sound body, a good, Clear mind, and a thorough general knowledge, together with proper proficiency and the fundamental theory underlying all engineering principles. With such a student in hand, the matter of making him a practical man is only one of a little persistence and patience; in the end he will be by far the most successful engineer. I]I [From a consultiaig civil emgineer.] The following observations are suggested as possible lines along which to work out some courses which might appeal particularly to engineering students. They have been largely suggested by my personal experience since graduation. It must be confessed that they are open to the criticism of being aImost wholly utilitarian, and of possessingbut little of the culture value which English work is supposed to have. No man, be he engineer or other, cam afford to cut himself off entirely from all the culture studies either before or after graduation; but in a technical course looking mainly to professional training, some excuse can be found for purely utilitariam studies, even in English. • Instructors in English insist strongly on a study of the English classics as medels of form and style and as sources from whicli a broad, general culture can be drawn. They are right, and no man can afford to be without a good knowledge of the classics of the language. What follows is intended to supplement such work with special reference to technical lines. - . Language is both oral and written. While conversational English may not have been included in your inquiry, still it is of so much importance that it will be con- 4 The Value of English sidered first in these observations. - The relation between it and written English is so in— timate that it may be said that a good conversationalist wifl be a good writer—except possibly as to the mechanical product—while the converse is hardly possible. A mam who uses slovenly English with his intimates will almost necessarily do so with others as well, so that the habit of Correct speech needs to be practiced socially as , wefi as pro— fessionally, and every one concedes its value professionally. … A man who cannot impress his subordinates with confidence in his ability will not be successful, hence the man of ready, concise amd correct speech has infinitely the ad- vantage Over one who is not so equipped. This fact is shown by the many men who suc— ceed simply by ** making a bluff.** It must not be inferred from this that the practice of bluffing is in any sense advocated ; what is desirable is the readiness of speech which it requires. A man who cannot convince his brother engineers of the truth of his ideas will stand small chance of succeeding with them, unless his ideas are so evidently worthy as to win without controversy. Even them, however, there is the , force of conservatism which usually must be overcome, and that can be done most easily by a fluent use of the English language. The writer has often seen engineers who are really brilliant in inven- tion and mechanical ingenuity, completely thrown off the track by a good talker. How few engineers, too, can acquit themselves well before an audience of other engineers. It is to be noted that those who make the best appearance under such circumstances are al— most invariably the successful ones, for some reason or other. But altogether the hardest position in which an engineer cam be placed is before a board of directors who are inquiring into the causes of an underestimate, or making some similar query. Then, if ever, the engineer needs a fund of ready, Convincing English. He must be accurate and concise. Shrewd, keen business men, who are accustomed tO judg- ing character by speech and action and appearance, and who furnish the funds for the en- gineer to spend, are the hardest to deal with, but make the best of friends if properly handled. When a man is in the wrong is no time to ** bluff, '* but when he is right and the business man does not agree with him, then is the time when the best English is of most value. Turning now to written speech, it is evident that many of the conditions referred to above must often be met by written communications. A man's merely social correspondence does not often come in evidence; but it may do so, and therefore it should aIways be carefully prepared. How few nen—engineers and others as well—can write a good business letter. There is a feeling among most people that a letter of application for a position does little good, as it is usually ** placed on file for future reference.** The writer thinks it is very oftem the fault of the letter itself. PersonalIy he believes thoroughly in Ietters of application, and almost invariably exacts one from each appIicant. If the spelling is correct and the wording good, it is a fair in- dication that the man will be painstaking in his work as well as in his letter writing. There is every opportunity to show originaIity in letters, and the man who can catch the attention of a busy executive engineer or business mari by a letter of application is apt to have that letter answered immediately ; at any rate his communication will be left in a conspicuous place for ready reference. The preparation of daily reports is usually a bugbear to the young engineer, but within a month one young man of the writer's acquaintance has had his salary increased over $100 a year solely on account of the kind of daily report he turned in. It is neat, well tabulated, concisely stated, with the important points clearly brought out, and saves many minutes a day for the persons through whose hands his reports pass. Another young engineer was transferred from his position as building superintendent, to the office as principal assistant in charge of reports, records of costs, etc.,—ten timesthe magnitude of his former job, and a position in which he would gain information of inestimable vaIue, —very largely because of the completeness and succinctness of his month[y reports. They gave more information on a single page of letter paper, and in a more legible form, tham was contained on ten pages of some other reports. The preparation of a specification is a work of art. The lawyer draws his contract, based upon it; the contractor prepares his bid by it; and the work is carried on and com- pleted under its interpretation. The writer has been called upon to interpret specifications which were entirely incomprehensible because of want of punctuation and improper sen- tence construction. One branch of the United States government was very harshly Criti- cised not long since, both editorially and by correspondents in engineering periodicals, be- cause of faults in the specifications prepared by it. The fault was not Overconciseness To the Practicing Engineer 5 either. In one case which came under the writer's observation within a few months, a company was obliged to pay a stubborn contractor a large sum of money, because of the use of a single wrong word by an engineer in a specification. A cJnsiderable time can be spent profitably on the language of specifications for important works, and much atten- tion and much space are being given to this point io several engineering periodicals at the present time. Several papers relating solely to this subject have also been presented be- fore engineering societies. Besides the usual faults of wrong tenses, omission of sub- jects, verbs, etc., the larger faults of looseness of language leading to ambiguity or false interpretation, are very often encountered. IV [From a construction emgineer in a lange weste, n city.] The training an engineer needs most is in Iogic. The beauties of a figure of speech or of fanciful description may be appreciated but never imitated by an engineer. His work consists in stating clearly, in the form of a contract or. specification, what he wish- es done, or in describing a piece of construction or design for the benefit of his fellows, or in advocating the merits of a particular design before a board or commissioner. In all of these cases clear, precise statement of fact, together with a logical exposition of the reason- ing process leading. up to his conclusions, are leading requisites for successful work. If he happens to be advocating a particular design he will frequently have to explain technical points in a convincing manner to men totally unfamiliar with engineering science. He must then, for the time being, lay aside his technical vocabulary and in the fewest and clearest words possible, lest he become tedious, explain his principle from the ground up. He will occasionally be confronted by another engineer with a rival design, and must then engage in a joint debate. Here he will need all his powers, and a training in clear and logical thinking and in the expression of the basic engineering principles in plain, untechnical, Anglo-Saxon words, will prove invaluable to him. He must learn to avoid generalities and bring out the definite, concrete facts at the root of the matter, and avoid the loose and dangerous methods of reasoning by analogy. When a man first leaves college he does not use his English training. He can rise as a draftsman, inspector. or instrument man to a salary of §5.00 per day without needing it. But as he goes above this limit and takes up consulting work, administra- tive work, or the commercial side of engineering, his English training will become in- creasingly useful. His engineering ability depends largely on his mathematical training and his experience, but his engineering reputation depends to a greater degree on his ability to handle English properly in technical papers, or to convince Iaymen of the soundness of his ViewS. V. [From an electrical mining engineer.] As I remember, one of the greatest bores of my college course was a course in Eng- lish, a two hour course, which at that time was the only one that was required. I could not understand at,the time why there should be this requirement in English for graduation from the Engineering Department, and consequently skimmed over it with as little work and thought as possible. I can remember, however, when a year or two after my gradu- ation I heard that the course had been increased to four hours, I thought to myself that it was a good thing and that the requirement slnould really be more. These courses should be adapted to strictly engineering work and should not consist of writing a series of compositions on ** Spring,** ** Flowers,'* and * *The Blue Sky Overhead'*. These courses should require the writing of specifications covering a wide field of engineering work, and the mal{< — IO — we cannot expect that many will take the time to do this, let us see to it that the young men under our charge do not pass away from our influence without having had presented to them the human side of life, that life shall seem to them worth living not only for achievement but also for helpfulness. I do not now propose to prescribe just what culture studies should be introduced into an engineering course or how much time should be devoted to these studies. But in a general way it may be said that English, history, and political science should find a place there. I do not mention the modern languages, since a knowledge of French and German is a neces- sity to the educated engineer and they belong, there- fore, to his professional course. Too much stress cannot be laid on the importance of a thorough course in English language and litera- ture. This should begin in the primary school and be continued without interruption to the senior class of our colleges and engineering schools, The study of English in our secondary schools is most deplorably neglected. Twice has the committee on English in- struction of our largest and oldest college called at- tention to the lamentable ignorance of their own lan- guage which a large number of the applicants for admission exhibit. Nor are the colleges themselves free from reproach in this matter. Insufficient in- struction and drill in correct and fluent writing of English is the rule rather than the exception. It is, if possible, more important even that the engineering student should be proficient in the writing of English than the collegian. The ability to express himself clearly and accurately may be said to be a tool of his — I I — trade, for he has to write reports and prepare speci- fications the very soul of which is accuracy. But, still, I do not wish to have the demand for thorough instruction in English rest merely on expe- diency. To write one's mother tongue correctly is the hall-mark of the educated man, and it is a grave wrong on the part of the teachers of any school or college to fail to provide suitable instruction to this end. English literature, too, should be taught so as to in- spire in the student a taste for good reading, and thus make available for him for the rest of his life the best thought of the world. If the love of literature and reading is not acquired in the school when the mind is plastic, it is not likely that it wiil come to one later when life's busy work has begun. My plea, therefore, is for the introduction of a broader curriculum into engineering schools and for the realization on the part of the teachers of these schools of their responsibility for providing a rounded education for their students. While recognizing fully the dominant importance of the particular study which the student is pursuing, his course should be so ar- ranged that itshall include a fairly liberal amount of studies of general culture. And if it should prove on full trial, that this cannot be done as our courses are now planned, without impairing seriously the student's engineering knowledge and training (a re- sult which seems to me, however, very improbable) then I would advocate a course of five years instead of four, that these humanities which belong in the daily life and thought of the educated man, may not be omitted in preparing engineering students for a useful life. — I 2 — It is often said that the place for non-professional studies is in the preparatory schools and that a stu- dent should come to the engineering schools with his English, history, and political science behind him, and thus not have them as disturbing elements in his tech- nical course. The objection to this scheme is two- fold—first, to the youth of I 6 or I 7 only elementary instruction can be given in these branches, and it is not probable that he will retain any interest in them after entering the higher school; and second, I believe that so far from these studies being disturbing ele- ments in the midst of scientific studies, they come as a pleasant relief and lead the student to realize that there are more things of value and interest in life than can be expressed in figures and formulae. The mingling of culture studies with professional ones can be done bunglingly to the detriment of both, and these culture studies may be taught in a dull per- functory way which will repel rather than attract the student. There is no doubt that much of the existing prejudice on the part of teachers and students to the humanities in schools of technology has been due to the blundering way in which they have been co-or- dinated with the professional studies and to the lack of skill with which they have been taught. When English, history, and political science shall be taught with the same spirit and enthusiasm and with the same thoroughness as scientific subjects, then we may ex- pect similar results in interesting and uplifting the young minds. • The intimate association of students of engineering and of the students of the classics and literature ought to be of great advantage to both. The student of — I 3 — science and technology breathes some of the atmos- phere in which his companion lives who is devoted to ancient and modern literature, and he cannot fail to appreciate in some degree the beauty and advantage of this culture. And, on the other hand, the student of the classics cannot fail to be impressed with the mastery which the student of applied science obtains over nature and Over himself. It is my earnest desire to see a large increase in the number of students in the classical and literary courses at this university, both for the sake of their influence on the engineering students, and for the advantage which they themselves would gain in association with fellow-students trained in accurate thought and free from intellectual sophisms. The educational value of scientific and technical studies as conducted in our great engineering schools has, I think, not been fully understood or appreciated by recent thinkers and writers on pedagogics. Here we have a severe drill in mathematical and mechani- cal subjects, aided by laboratory practice, which per- mits the student tO handle apparatus and machines and to observe the results of his experiments. Lab- oratory methods of instruction are now so familiar to us in all branches of science and seem so obviously necessary to successful instruction that it is hard to realize that they have had their origin and develop- ment in the last two generations. But of far more importance than this great educational method is the training in original research which pervades the en- gineering school and which, if rightly guided, engen- ders in the student a love of truth and empowers him to be a successful seeker for it. And with this love — I 4 — and power come self-control, self-reliance, and a true humility. - The characteristics of a course in engineering (still using that term to include all studies now grouped under the head of technology) which would satisfy at once the engineer and the educator are :— I. A thorough class-room drill in the fundamental principles of his profession. 2. The broadening and humanizing influence of culture studies throughout his course. 3. The formation of good mental habits. 4. Careful guidance into the realm of original re- search. » There is no system of education, however thought- fully and ingeniously devised, which can do away with class-room drill in fundamental mathematical subjects. A workman must have fitting tools for his work and must thoroughly understand their use. The engineer must be firmly grounded in his mathematics, physics, and mechanics, so that his mind works in mathematical channels without effort. This is his necessary equipment as engineer ; but in acquiring this mathematical facility his mind becomes at the same time trained in accurate, logical thinking, and his whole mental and moral fibre becomes strength- ened. Specious reasoning repels him, for the quick- ened intellect detects fallacy. The engineer thus gains in his mathematical training the first qualifi- cation of the educated man. Of the importance of introducing the humanities to aid and relieve this rigid training, I have already spoken at sufficient length, and of their educational value there is no question if rightly taught. Teachers — I 5 — of English and the humanities could have no more receptive and inspiring classes than eager and earn- est students of technology, who are keenly alive to the necessary connection of cause and effect and who maintain a discriminating attitude of mind towards the true and the false. But he must teach his subject with an intelligence, force, and enthusiasm to which the student is accustomed in his engineering subjects. If he does this, I have not the least doubt of his suc- cess or of the future of culture studies in the engi- neering curriculum. <. Habits, whether of body or mind, whether good or bad, are the great savers of time and energy in life. If it required a nervous effort every time one took a step to maintain his equilibrium, he would make but slow progress, and would very soon become exhausted. It is always a matter of interest and pleasure to watch the co-ordination of nerve and muscle in a supple and healthy body whereby exter- nal impressions find an instantaneous response in com- plicated muscular movements. Of a still higher order is the wonderful unconscious translation of sensual impressions into muscular action as when the trained musician transforms the written page of music into melody. The musician who has arrived at such a state of technical perfection with his instrument that he can read the written notes without mental effort has his soul free for the enjoyment which the music is able to afford and is also capable of creative work. The self-perpetuating tendency in nature makes it of the highest importance not only that good habits should be formed, but bad habits avoided, owing to the great difficulty in eradicating these automatic ac- — I6— tions. Speaking and writing correctly are, for in- stance, matters of habit and teachers are neglectful of their duty who permit bad habits in this regard to fasten themselves on their pupils. -. The necessarily severe training which the engineer- ing student undergoes, the strictly logical and invio- lable sequence involved in all his work, cannot fail to exert a favorable influence on his mental attitude toward. all phenomena and occurrences about him. His reflexes become trained in such a way that the mind responds in an ever increasing degree, with sharpness and accuracy to the impressions made upon it. The consequence of this, it seems to me, cannot fail to have a moral as well as a purely intel- lectual value, for truth is but accuracy on a moral plane. A learned professor once replied to a student who said he was anxious not tO get into an intellect- ual rut: “ A good rut is a good thing." What is it but a path prepared by patient persevering effort to make further progress easier. Only when the rut gets so deep that one cannot see Over its sides, and know what is going on around him, is it a bad thing. - - There is another useful result of the formation of good habits which, though well recognized, is not often acted on as a power in education. It is the stimula- tion of the moral sense by the habitual performance of good and worthy actions. Let a child be taught to do habitually kind and polite acts and speak kind words and the spiritual condition which corresponds to these acts will not be long in coming to him. And equally certain is the evil influence on the moral condition of the young of persistent indulgence in selfish and cruel — I 7 — acts. Likewise obedience to law is not merely discip- line, it is an education, opening the mind to the recep- tion of truth and supplying the impulse to right action. This is one of the greatest of all truths and was in the mind of our Lord when he said :— “ If any man will do His will he shall know of the doctrine.” The opportunity for original research and the dis- covery of natural laws in scientific and engineering education I regard as the most valuable means for mental development, training, and inspiration which modern education possesses. In the hands of the true teacher who studies carefully the individual char- acter of all his pupils, the careful guiding of the stud- ent into the realm of the unknown, and leaving him to penetrate unaided into nature's mysteries is equiv- alent to giving him a new interest in life. It is, in- deed, for him a new birth, which he would probably never experience if his education comprised merely faithful and laborious study of the investigations of others. Holmes has somewhere happily said that a man's mind now and then is stretched by a new idea and does not afterward shrink to its former di- mensions. This is the case with the youth when he becomes conscious of the power enabling him to penetrate into the very heart of nature and discover her laws, The higher spiritual enjoyment of discov- ery has no alloy of self seeking in it. It is a mistake, I think, to reserve work in original research to the later years of one's college course. Chemistry lends itself admirably to research work for the beginner. To those who have acquired a fair acquaintance with general chemistry and who have a — I 8 — sufficient knowledge of manipulation, simple prob- lems can be assigned by the skilful teacher which will involve some original thought for solution. At this stage it is not absolutely necessary that the result should be a new one to the world ; it is only necessary that the result be new to the student and that he should actually discover it anew. It takes earnest, patient, and often exhausting work on the part of the instruc- tor to teach his pupils in this way. He must know their capacities and peculiarities, their dispositions, their likes and dislikes. The study of the individual student by the teacher is the only road to successful teaching. But the labor thus expended is amply re- paid by the interest which his pupils show in their work and by the rapid progress he sees them make. The average student thinks his work a task and I fear the average teacher looks on his work as a task also. If new life and interest can be thrown into the work of both, teaching and learning may be transformed from dull tasks into keen enjoyment. If we admit, as I think all teachers in engineering schools will do, that training is of more value to the student than the facts he learns, then all methods which give to the student a greater love of his work, a greater self-reliance, and a greaterability for independent thought and workshould be employed in our schools. My experience as a teacher has brought me emphatic proof of the value of this method of teaching, not only for the naturally bright and industrious but also for the dull and indif- ferent, who are not infrequently awakened from their lethargy to a new life and energy by the discovery of their own unsuspected power. Many have the erroneous idea that there is required rare talent, akin to genius, to be a successful investi- gator. This is obviously true of an investigation which requires the , master mind, but the method of conducting an investigation in chemistry or physics can be taught. There is nothing mysterious about it; an experiment accurately carried out and accurately observed and recorded must give a fact of some kind, and when facts in sufficient number are appropriately grouped their study may reveal a law. The function of the teacher in such an investigation is to see to it that the student does observe accurately and com- pletely, that the conditions of his experiment are such as he supposes, and to note whether there are disturb- ing influences of which the student has taken no ac- count and whether his deductions from his associated facts are consistent and logical. Could any teaching be more suggestive and valuable ? I like to think, too, that the result of this trafhing is morally as well as intellectually elevating. To all minds this will not be the case, but to some the con- sciousness that the hidden * laws of nature reveal themselves to him who seeks with patient thought and work, brings with it a sense of oneness with na- ture, and of fellowship with the great minds to whom she tells her secrets. We listened last year to the story of the discovery by an English physicist and an English chemist of a new constituent of our atmosphere. So astounding was the announcement of this discovery that the scien- tific world received it with some incredulity and many thoughtit easier to believe that two men had blundered than that a host of chemists and physicists had for a hundred years and more overlooked an element which exists in our common air to the relatively large amount . of one per cent. The story of this discovery fills one with admiration for Lord Rayleigh's magnificent con- fidence in the accuracy of his own experimental work. His starting point was a difference of a few milligrams in the weight of a litre of nitrogen obtained from the air and nitrogen obtained from chemical sources. He was sure that his gases were pure and that his balance was true, and he knew that nature does not vary a hair's breadth in the action of her laws. With a sublime confidence in nature and in himself he predicted the new element in the atmosphere with the confidence with which Le Verrier predicted the existence of Neptune. Not only has the new element, argon, been isolated and studied, but other new and startling discoveries, made now possible, have followed quickly in its train. Helium, a gas known only as existing in the sun has since been found in terrestrial minerals. In contemplating such discoveries we are filled with awe and are moved to say with the Psalmist—“ Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; I cannot attain unto it.'' And yet in Lord Rayleigh's methods, mate- rials and apparatus there was nothing which is un- known to the student of chemistry and physics in our engineering schools. His inspiration and prophecy were the direct, one might almost say the inevitable, result of his simple and sublime confidence in the laws of nature and in the integrity of his own work. His laborious experiments on the weight of nitrogen, pursued simply for the love of truth and not for the love of discovery, had so cleared the mystery of the composition of the atmosphere that the new element could no longer remain concealed. • To see things in their true relations to each other we must rise sufficiently high above them. There is a plane from which all facts and laws—moral as well as physical—assume equal value since they are all the laws of God. May we not truly say that the scientific and engineering schools in their earnest search for truth are contributing their share, with all colleges and pro- fessional schools, to the increase of knowledge and wisdom on the earth ? A true seat of learning is known by its life and growth. It cannot remain stationary, for inaction is death. It is a pleasant conception of college life which regards it as an association of scholars who admit young men to their midst for a few years that they may acquire the love of truth in the seeking for it. When all teachers are not only patient and faith- ful, but also lovers of truth and lovers of teaching, then may we expect to see this new era of education ushered in. It is not my wish to make any comparison of the educational advantages of a collegiate and engineer- ing curriculum. My object is rather to show, if I can, that a Course of engineering study liberally planned and faithfully carried out is capable of making not only a broadly educated man but one whose enthu- siasm for truth and truth-seeking has been kindled to a living fame. To admit this does not require one to depreciate the value of the usual collegiate course. There is no finer product of education than the cultured scholar of language, literature, and philosophy, to whom the best thoughts of the best minds of all ages are tribu- tary and whose trained reflective thinking occupies - 22 --- itself with the mystery of the soul of man. The world needs these ripe and cultured natures of gentle fibre, as it needs its engineers, with their rugged strength. - When the educational value of an engineering edu- cation is fully appreciated, we may have students seeking these schools for the training they afford without regard to the practice of any of the engi- neering professions. In my opinion, the best prepa- ration to-day for the practice of medicine is a course in chemistry in a technical school before entering the medical school ; not merely for the knowledge of chemistry which would there be obtained, but for the severe scientific training and for acquiring a knowl- edge of methods of research. Medicine, which is to- day so largely empirical in its methods and practice, would have a new era if all its students were trained scientific investigators. . If we compare the attitude toward his studies of the student of engineering and of those in academic courses, we cannot fail to observe, on the whole, a greater earnestness, accompanied with more real ef- fort, on the part of the young engineer. He realizes more fully the end and object of his work and he is generally more interested in it than the young colle- gian, who toO often regards his course as preparatory to something to come after. There is in modern col- legiate life a steady increase of luxurious dilettanteism, the natural result of the increase of wealth among us and of the greater number of young men who go to college every year. The life which our grandfathers and our great-grandfathers spent in college was one of serious purpose unbroken by the round of pleas- ures and sports which now characterize college life. The athlete and the sybarite were unknown in their day, but so far from complaining of their lot they re- joiced in their greät privileges. If one new to our modern college life were to get his first impressions of it from the daily press (which gives the public what they are supposed to be most interested in) he might well conclude that the purpose of the college was to train students for gladiatorial exhibitions and for trav- eling minstrel shows, and he would be wrong only so far as he supposed this to be their dominant purpose. I do not take a pessimistic view of modern college education, nor do I think that the college spirit is in a state of decadence. Modern collegiate life is to-day a wonderful microcosm ;—it represents the endeavor of generations of zealous, earnest educators to make this period of youth increasingly profitable. The number and variety of studies have been increased many fold, the proportion of teachers to students has been increased, improved methods of instruction have been brought into play and the equipment of labora- tories is lavishly generous. Never before has there been such earnest discussion as to educational methods and values; the teacher's art has become a science, and he a great power in the land. With enlightened educational methods goes hand in hand the freedom of the student—freedom to choose his studies and to occupy his time as he will, subject only to the attainment of a certain scholastic standard. It is not surprising that some students should abuse this freedom and run into excesses that are anything but scholarly. Recreations, gymnastics, and athletics are healthy and useful in the college life. The gym- nasiums of our modern colleges are witnesses of. the importance which is now attached by educators to muscular exercise and a harmonious physical de- velopment during the years of college life. Athletic games may be made a useful adjunct of this physical culture, and supply an element which the gymna- sium must always lack—the stimulus of contest which brings into beautiful co-ordination the keen alert mind and the strong responsive muscles. It is a sorry spectacle when we see the perversion of this physical training in public contests characterized by cunning and brutality and productive of lasting ill-feeling and bitterness. Think of it, the young men who have afforded these spectacles were students in our great- est colleges of learning and presumably pursuing courses of study leading to solid wisdom and refined thought and feeling. Athletics are now running riot in our colleges and taking time and thought which should be devoted to study ; it is high time that they be relegated to their proper, subordinate place in the scholastic life. We have thus far considered our colleges and en- gineering schools as institutions for leading young men in the ways of wisdom and understanding and train- ing them in the ways of right and accurate thinking, and thus preparing them for active independent life in various Occupations and professions. But it is well to ask, is the whole duty of the college performed when this useful and practical end is attained ? Ought not this period of youth, with receptive maturing minds, be made use of for still higher ends—the de- velopment of character and preparation for duties of citizenship, The crying need of our country tO-day is — 25 — for good citizens—not merely passively good, but ac- tively earnest in maintaining right and justice and in elevating the tone of our politics. The City, the State, and the Nation have the right to the unselfish services of all citizens in the maintenance of law and order and in the promotion of the general welfare and happiness. What do we see in our modern political life ? City, State, and National poli- tics largely in the hands of self-seeking and corrupt politicians of the lowest order of intelligence. Where do we find the college men who have enjoyed the great privilege of years of study of nature, of history, and of political science, and who should be leaders of all that is best in thought and action in our politi- cal life ? Do we find them banded together by a common tie of purity of thought and usefulness of action ? Alas ! no ; we find them scattered in the va- rious camps, some, it is true, struggling hopelessly for the right, but the majority indifferent, while the vul- gar, uneducated throng take possession of the reins of government and degrade the seats of honor and justice. Where is the remedy ? The past history of Our municipal governments shows that the usual course is for the best element of society to allow things to run on from bad to worse, and wait until they become insufferably bad and absolutely unendur- able and then by a vigorous effort to Overthrow the corrupt government and substitute a decent one in its stead. This spasmodic virtue exhausts itself generally in one effort, and then the vulgar crowd comes to the surface again for a new term of life. Many right-think- ing persons lazily deplore this miserable condition of affairs but they will not take the time and trouble to — 26 — change it permanently. Can there be a better place than the American college to teach young men the un- selfish duty of citizenship ? Not merely the duty to vote aright—alas ! how seldom under our present sys- tem has one any chance to perform this duty—but the duty to enter loyally into every political campaign of City, State, and Nation in the service of good honest government. Graduates of our colleges and scientific and engineering schools are increasing in numbers every year. If united on the side of honest govern- ment what a power would they now be in the land ! I see no better solution of our intricate political prob- lem—a problem made more difficult every year by the influx of an immense ignorant population and by the ingenious and unholy devices of our degraded politi- cians—than that the college men of the country should unite to stem the tide of political corruption and to set up a standard of honesty and purity. Cannot our great schools of learning take active measures to this end by enrolling all their students into classes and so- cieties for the active study and debate of our social and political problems ? It would be a dull student in- deed whose sense of duty could not be aroused, and whose enthusiasm could not be kindled to enter into a crusade of political reform by teachers and leaders whose hearts were in their work. What a grand ser- vice would our higher education thus render our coun- try ! Think of the power possessed by the trained educated man in his knowledge, wisdom, self-reliance, and self-control. An army of vulgar place seekers would shrink away before the advance of a handful of such men with public opinion behind them. - It may be a Utopian dream, but it is a pleasant one, — 27 — that the college spirit should also be one of active altruism, and that the four years Of partial seclusion from the world spent in the study of nature and of man and in the search for truth, should result in the discovery of that sublime truth that “ There is that scattereth and yet increaseth.” What a great part petty meannesses play in our every-day life—the greed of possession, the thirst for power. This spirit is not to be eradicated from our natures by discipline or punishment and the better way cannot be taught by precepts or homilies. It is the spirit which giveth life, and when the day comes that the teachers have all attained unto this unselfish life, the pupil will not be long in discovering that the beauty of right living is the crowning glory of his education. - - It is a beautiful and pious custom of this University to insert in its calendar a memorial day, for all time, to commemorate the virtues of its noble founder and to keep alive the fame of living gratitude for all he did for this great school of learning and for the cause of education in this country. I know of no finer trait of character than the desire of a man to give to others the advantages of which he himself was de- prived. A college is not the only road to education and development of character. Asa Packer attained this end unaided, by laborious self-denying effort. He might, when his days were full of honor and prosper- ity, have said, “ Let others tread the road I have trod and win success by their own strength and Courage as I have done.'' Not so did his benevolent nature speak—but “ I will make the rugged road smooth, and level the toilsome hills that the path of youth hereafter to learning and honor shall not only be easy but beau- — 28 — tiful." The soul that is capable of this thought has been very near to the heart of the Master who went about doing good. Oh, that we could infuse into the minds of young men who come here for an education the meaning of all this, that they might realize that they are enjoying the greatest privilege a young man can have in this world and that they owe it to the grand generosity of one to whose own youth it was denied ! In the spirit of our noble founder, this school of learning has been conducted by noble men who worked with him and, surviving him, carried out his benevo- lent intentions. Associated with the name of Asa Packer as founder will always be the names of Henry Coppée and Robert A. Lamberton who, by their scholarship, learning, and vigor, made the University what it is to-day. The purpose and design of the University were broadlyoutlined by its first president, Dr. Coppée, whose scholarly, practical, and far-seeing mind discerned the great possibilities for usefulness of a school of learning in this beautiful valley rich in nature's treasures and man's achievements. The University had happily the presence, example, and counsel of this noble and bril- liant scholar for nearly 3o years and he, happily, lived to see his hopes for the University more than fulfilled. I quote from his own words addressed to the students on the opening of Packer Hall: “ Let us work to- gether with ardor to a noble end, you to learn, we to teach, and all determined, with God's help, to make Lehigh University a blessing in this place and a glory in the land.'' . . It was during Dr. Lamberton's wise and vigorous — 29 — presidency for thirteen years that the University came to be generally known throughout the country. He brought the talent of a great administrator to the ser- vice of the University and under his wise and skilful guidance it found its place among our large institu- tions of learning. This he did while maintaining the high grade of scholarship which Lehigh's learned faculty had originally established. These two great presidents of Lehigh University, whose work is now over, received their mission direct from its founder and embodied his benevolent and gracious thought in the great school of learning where we now meet. Still another name is in all our thoughts tO-day, a friend of its founder and a friend of the University, one who rejoiced in its growth and usefulness and whose counsel and purse were ever at her disposal. Eckley Brinton Coxe was the child of gentle and dis- tinguished ancestry, and his youthful life was sur- rounded by all that could contribute to the harmon- ious development of his character. After completing his college course at the University of Pennsylvania he spent many years in Germany and France fitting himself for the profession of mining engineer. On his return to this country he began his life's work in the development of the large mining property of his family. Most men, similarly situated, would have been entirely engrossed with professional and busi- ness cares, but Mr. Coxe found time also for scientific research and beneficent works of practical philan- thropy. As we read the printed record of his scien- tific and technical industry we marvel at his fertile mind and his power of work ; but his words and works of kindness and helpfulness are recorded only on the hearts of those to whom they are a precious pos- session, A technically educated man, Mr. Coxe took the liveliest interest in technical education and was one of our foremost thinkers and writers on this subject. He was always eager to help engineering students by giving them the freedom of his great mines and engi- neering works for instruction and study, and he never tired of giving them, likewise, the rich treasures of his knowledge and experience. Léhigh University has reason to be proud of lhe absorbing interest he took in her affairs and of his personal efforts to in- crease her equipment and efficiency. • . In Eckley Coxe we have the full realization of the finely and broadly educated man, who drew his inspi- ration both from his liberal and engineering educa- tion. He was at once the scholar, the investigator and inventor, the practical engineer, the man of busi- ness, the statesman, and the philanthropist. And with this remarkable many-sidedness was combined a per- sonality so charming and winning, a character SO elevated and an integrity so sublimely simple, that he drew all men to him in unselfish devotion. Placed side by side with his friend, Asa Packer— how unlike were they in their early opportunities and training, yet how alike in the deep springs of their na- tures which broke forth in bountiful streams, enriching, beautifying, and fructifying the world around them. Let the memories of these four noble men—Asa. Packer, Henry Coppée, Robert A. Lamberton, and Eckley Brinton Coxe—be enshrined in our hearts to- day and their lives be to us a perpetual inspiration. 2. [Reprinted from the Schooz Review, January, I9o6, and distributed to members of the New England Association of Teachers of English as a regular leaflet.] TH E SCHOOL REVIEW A JOURNAL OF SECONDARY EDUCATION VOLUME XIV WHOLE NUMBER I JAN UARY, I 9o6 NUMBER I3O TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC ANID IN COMPOSITION REPORT OF STANDING COMMITTEE OF NEW ENGLAND ASSOCIATION OF TEACEIERS OF ENGLISH ON AIDS IN TEACEIING ENGLISH * Your committee, acting under the instructions of this association, begs leave to submit a report on textbooks in rhetoric and in composition. No attempt has been made to include in it all the textbooks in these sub- jects to be found in the publishers? lists, nor even all that have come into a somewhat extended use. The fact that a book finds no place among these reviews is no proof that it is not an excellent one well suited to the needs of Schools. The enforced limits of such a report as this make many exclusions necessary. Some difficulties connected with our task will readily suggest them- Selves. First, it is no part of the committee's purpose to convert itself into an advertising medium for any book or publishing house. And this has imposed certain restraints upon us. Then, there is no general agree- ment among teachers as to a desirable plan for composition and for rhetoric such as might be exemplified in a textbook. Again, it is quite impossible to review a book with the utmost fairness if the reviewer has no sure means of knowing for what grades of school work the author intended it. The last and perhaps the greatest difficulty of all is due to the fact that what might seem to be the very best book from an ideal point of view may become, in the hands of the teacher who lacks knowledge of the subject and a hearty interest in it, coupled with real enthusiasm in teaching, a poOr one, ill adapted to getting the little good that may be gained from the study under the circumstances. It has seemed best, therefore, to attempt to describe upon what view, I Homer P. Lewis, superintendent of schools, Worcester, Mass., Chairman; Miss IKate L. Clarke, Rogers High School, Newport, R. I., Miss Lillian W. Fay, High School, Holyoke, Mass.—November, I8, I9o5. I 2 THE SCHOOL REVIEW in the opinion of the committee, a good textbook in each study should be based and what it should contain, and then leave it in large measure to those who consult the report to judge how far each book reviewed corre- sponds to this ideal. - - In connection with the textbook, we must take account of the teacher. First of all, the teacher of language ought to be mightily impressed with the importance of her work. She should have a firm conviction that language should be the core of the curriculum, and that it is not to be subordinated to any other study. Rather, it should have the primacy in the course. “The significance of the development of modern education,” says Nicholas Murray Butler, “can best be estimated by the progress of the mother-tongue toward the central place in formal instruction.” Again, the teacher should clearly understand the fact that thought in any line can go no farther than language can be induced to follow it; that along the avenue of language is the approach to all the sciences and to all other forms of knowledge; that the man who seeks to do any exact thinking in any direction must first master a vocabulary adequate to the purpose; that the study of words and their functions in the sentence is the most natural way of bridging Over the chasm between concrete and abstract thinking, between the animal way of seeing life and the human way. For the basis of all civilization is the capacity to communicate ideas. Utter poverty of the means of expression spells utter isolation and stagnation. The greatest upward movement in evolution began with the development of articulate speech. Every gain in the power to reveal inner states of mind by language strengthens the bonds of aSSOciation and leads on toward the end of all progress, the final reconciliation of men. Secondly, the teacher should appreciate at its full worth the value of language as a means oj training. “The concrete subject which is best suited for training the abstract powers is language,” says Laurie. And, in fact, the invention of language is an attempt to escape from the domina- tion of the concrete to the realm of the abstract. “Mind grows only so far as it finds expression for itself.” The main part of this expression being through speech, “the supreme subject of all education is language.” By words, we share the common consciousness of the race which has shaped itself in these symbols. - Furthermore, “language is the highest physiological acquisition that dis- tinguishes man from the brute.” The mental physiologist tells us that the study of language causes the excitation of much wider brain areas, and hence contributes more to the higher evolution of man, than any other study. Nor is this an intellectual gain only. It affects the morals as well, for TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC AND IN COMPOSITION 3 the study of language, to the end that our speech may mirror more per- fectly our thoughts, tends toward greater and greater truthfulness. The constant feeling that we have said what does not express our thoughts inevitably dulls our respect for truth and our perception of it. - Now, if teachers in elementary schools were equal to the task, and if superintendents and supervisors were broad-minded enough to give teachers freedom and to be satisfied with less uniform results or attempts at them, we should need no textbooks in language-study, perhaps, beyond Such a compilation of literature, fable, and myth as would serve, when carefully graded, as the basis for the study of literature and expression, leaving all the mechanics of composition to the good sense of the teacher. Great literature is the natural ally of language-study, because in it are to be found the most perfect forms of expression and the models most interesting to children. - We shall do well to avoid the idea that the art of expression may be best taught, or even well taught, through exercises based upon general information, history, art, or science. In literature, as we have said, must be found the models of expression worthy of imitation. On the other hand, there is danger that we shall subordinate language, the study and practice of expression, to the technique of language; that we shall arrange our lessons accordingto some fancied logical Order of studying the mechanics of composition, rather than in the line of the development of the child's interests. Many are the books founded upon the letter, and in this case there is no doubt that the letter killeth, The mechanics of expression— capitalization, punctuation, correct spelling, paragraphing, the sentence, the order of words—all these are mere implements for attaining complete expression. But how often is this alleviating thought presented to the child ? Rather are these set before him as the very sum and substance of the matter in hand. Seldom or never is he taken into the secret that the highest art in language is to rise through these to the point of forgetting them—to the point of acquiring such a language-sense as shall make such things as unnoticeable to his thought as, to his sight, is the window-pane through which he gets a vision of the outer world. Language is most perfect when it attracts least attention to itself. Our textbook must not flourish its tools in the pupil's face. It is disastrous to have him too con- scious that he is studying language and composition. Someone has said that if a man goes through a course in gymnastics to the refrain, “I am doing this for my health! I am doing this for my health!” the result is sure to be fatal. So when the teacher says to her pupils, “Come now, today we will study the sentence or the use of capital letters,” they become 4 - - THE SCHOOL REVIEW like the Seekers of Vergil's Sibyl and go away nourishing a deep-seated loathing for the guiltless sentence and the innocent capitals. Nor is the teaching by insistent repetition, without making clear the central reason forit all, without the compelling interest, likely to give any better results, as is shown by the old story of the boy writing “gone” a hundred times as an exercise after School, and then leaving a note for the teacher saying: “I have gorn home.” Children have a marvelous power in some cases of evading the domination of habit. - We must avoid, then, the dangers of regulating a textbook on compo- sition by the desire of introducing day by day a new item in the technique of writing. Rather, the pupil should be told to seek first the kingdom of literature, and all these things shall be added unto him. By literature he can be taken into a world of wonderful and beautiful things, and, like a child, he will immediately become anxious to tell them to others. And in the telling let him be made to discover the means of expression. If he can be made to feel the glow of enthusiasm and delight, the technical parts of language will seem no burden to him, no obstacle, but rather a needed help. For, as Chubbs says: “We communicate knowledge in vain, if we do not evoke stable and growing enthusiasms.” Now as to the book itself: - I. A good grammar-school textbook should recognize that the child has used language several years, and has studied it three years Or SO before he comes to the book. He knows, therefore, a good many facts about language, and has a right to escape the insult to his intelligence that toO many books contain. 2. Our textbook should show a well-developed plan, like our books in grammar and arithmetic, though possibly we are not quite ready for that yet in the present state of knowledge of the Order of growth of the child's interestS. - 3. It should give the minimum of grammar up to the seventh or eighth grade. Let the pupil be made to feel the need of the mechanical aids to composition, and some of the facts Of formal grammar, before he begins to learn about them. . An exercise in reading an unpunctuated, uncapi- talized paragraph will bring him to a realizing sense of the help of the first, and a perception that words have different functions will awaken in him some desire for the Second. 4. The book should give much attention to words, their history and derivation, especially in the upper grades. We may remember what Holmes said: “When I feel inclined to read poetry, I take down my dic- tionary.*' The history of words is real poetry, and if the pupils are not TEXTBOKSO IN RHETORIC AND IN COMPOSITION 5. fascinated by this kind of study, we may legitimately suspect the power • of the teacher. - . 5. There should be provision for much Copying, conversation, repro- duction, and picture-study to develop the imagination and an interest in one of the most noble forms of expression. It should carefully avoid all paraphrasing of poetry. It should keep in mind that narration comes before description, yet is closely interwoven with it. It should develop the word-sense, the sentence-sense, and in some degree the paragraph- SenS6. - 6. It should not attempt to teach history, geography, facts of science, and give general information through lessons in language. It should sug- gest that compositions be written out of the fulness of the pupil's knowl- edge and out of his desire to express himself, and not as the result of special research. The essay for a literary society which Smacks of the encyclo- pædia, with the interest and vivacity of the encyclopædia lost in trans- mission, is familiar to many of us. It should contain worthy poems and bits of prose for study and memorizing, such as shall help the teacher to sensitize the minds of the pupils to the best moral influences that literature may so potently exert. You remember President Eliot's testimony to the value of these memory gems in his own experience. Quintilian says: “The simple reading of great works, Such as national epics, will contribute more to the unfolding of the student than all the treatises that the rhetori- cians ever wrote.” - “The price that the gods exact for Song Is that we become what we sing.” In a lesser degree, perhaps, we become what we read, especially in our earlier years. What these selections should be may be a matter for much discussion and difference of opinion. Myths and fables, early epics and stories of heroes, should undoubtedly have a prominent place. “Myths,” as Dr. Hall says, “are profoundly true, not to the external world, as the child knows and may be freely told, but to the heart and the world within.” They are ethical in their tendency and may, as has been suggested, lie at the basis of proper religious training. Selections for memorizing should be either classics, old or new, that appeal to the child or such as shall prove “a possession for all time.” Commonplace and trivial selections should gain no admittance to the language book. These then, in our opinion, should be the characteristics of a language book designed for the elementary grades. Turning now to high-School texts for rhetoric and composition, we may reasonably expect to find a new point of view because of changed condi- 6 • THE SCHOOL REVIEW tions. The elementary-school pupil “by imitation learns freshness, originality, and boldness.” The Secondary-school pupil will put more of himself into the work. His tendency to self-expression needs often to be chastened and repressed. He is now ready to be trained as to the manner of expression. He begins to have “a feeling for style anda capacity for appreciating poetry.** He Ought not to be constrained to have these develop by rules laid down in books. We may say with Dr. Thurber: “All the rhetoric to be taught in connection With English composition should be in the teacher's mind and habits. Utterly futile is the repetition of rules.” The gradual but sure influence of models such as commend themselves to the pupil Ought to be sufficient. - Our ideal textbook must connect itself with our theories of the best methods of teaching the subject in secondary schools. From the start, the teaching of English has been open to criticism from one side Or the other. In the grammar method of teaching too much attention is paid to the mathematics of language. In the natural method the work is too vague. Now, is it not possible to attain the two ends at once—close reason- ing and the cultivation of the artistic sense by the reading of good literature, and by the writing of good, clean, clear-cut English ? If it is, the two methods of teaching should be combined. The natural method, by a strong teacher, can be stretched to cover the ground occupied by the textbook on grammar and rhetoric. To do this, a great deal of work in preparing an outline for the class must be done by the teacher. Every teacher should own all the textbooks he can lay his hands on. From them he should make out a plan of his own to fit the class he is teaching; or, better yet, to fit the needs of each pupil in that class. - - es • It is one of the chief duties of the teacher of English to afford to his pupils practice in clear and orderly expression. Behind this is clear and orderly thinking. This can hardly be attained from the dry pages of a grammar. It is founded on interest. This is aroused, With the least expense of time and study, by the reading of good literature. When the pupil sees the clear thought expressed, his curiosity is easily stirred to a study of the “how” of it all. The student must seek and find the “main incident,*° the theme, then the subdivision of topics, them the sentence thought—and so on down to an understanding of the very words them- selves. The names of terms—copula, object, complement, etc.—are easy enough now that the reason of it all has been previously made clear. Verbs are unconsciously conjugated, pronouns slip into line, when the boy sees that they must “to make sense.” That is reason enough, then, why TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC A ND I N COMPOSITION 7 the work should be correct, and no rule of rhetoric and grammar can give him anything better by which to guide his expression. • • The first requisite, then, for a “Course in English* is plenty of good literature. Narration, description, exposition, argumentation—all these in the textbook are but dull, lifeless words; but in the living, pure English of a master-workman they become something to conjure with. So, too, when he understands the structure of the paragraphs and the sentences, it will not be hard to get him to try to write for himself in the same way. He will use narration, description, etc., somewhat as the master used it, lacking, of course, the skill of the author. Imitation is inherent in the youthful make-up. - By this time, if the teacher has worked out his plan carefully, he can safely spend considerable time on pure grammar. Pupils will grind on form when they see the sense of good usage. They could have no definite aim unless they had first comprehended what others had done in the way of expression. - Of course, this method—scientific in intent—demands more of the teacher than it does of the textbook. No textbook can take the place of the teacher's plan for his own pupils. When something definite is needed, for instance, on “Figures of Speech,'° or on “Prosody,' the teacher should be able to turn to books and ask the pupils to consult them for the facts they contain. - Textbooks in rhetoric have passed through three stages in recent years. First, we had rhetoric for its own sake; then rhetoric for the sake of litera- ture; and now we have reached the stage when the theory that rhetoric is for the sake of clear expression holds sway. It is no longer to be treated as an art for the use of the literary or professional man. “The changes,” says Professor Genung, “which have taken place in the study of rhetoric have been steadily in the direction of making the subject more democratic, of emphasizing its value for the many rather than for the few.” We are realizing more and more that the clear and forceful expression of ideas is necessary in business and in conversation as well as in literature. The business letter and the literary model, as far as concerns language, are not unlike. In both the attempt is made to express one's meaning with per- fect clearness. This leads us to say that rhetoric is to be treated as a useful rather than as a fine art; that it can therefore be brought down to the level of the elementary- and high-school pupil, and should not be treated as if for the guidance of men of letters only. If we are to have a textbook put into the hands of the pupils, and there may be an honest difference of opinion as to the advisability of this, 8 THE SCHOOL REVIEW it should treat rationally and inductively the mechanics of composition, and it should give exercises such as are not an affront to the intelligence of the pupils. It may well face the fact that the grammar studied in the elementary Schools, before the pupil was capable of understanding it, should be boldly reviewed to some extent, if the course in rhetoric is to be followed with intelligence. It should give an analysis of some good selection under each of the four forms of discourse. Next our book should show us how to go to work to put our experiences into Writing, This is creative work and should be inspiring. According to the laws of development, narration of simple incident and plain descrip- tion come first; then more elaborate forms of both. Exposition follows; then argumentation. The latter should be founded upon the simple basic principles of debate, generally attractive to pupils of the secondary- school age. Our text may well treat briefly of the method of expression under Such subdivisions as figures, clearness, energy, elegance, and style. Illustrative material, exceptin very limited amount, should not be found in the textbook. The literature read will furnish ample illustration in a really living form such as will create a lasting impressión. The teacher will keep in mind that the textbook is a servant, not a master, in the study of rhetoric. TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC AND IN COMPOSITION FOR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS I. The School Course in English. By Edward A. Allen and William J. Hawkins. (Boston: D. C. Heath & Co., I9o5.) - . Book I, I7I pages, has a good table of contents, but no index. There is an attempt to correlate literature, nature-study, and language. It is designed for a three years? course of study, and would be suitable for Grades IV, V, and VI. It contains a few well-chosen pictures for study. A large number of selections of prose and poetry is given for study reproduction, and as a basis of composition work. The book contains also some dictation exercises and many industry studies. The literature for study and the poems for memorizing are well chosen. The book is planned with “ the belief that language is best learned by associatingit in its use with the best forms of expression of the best literature.” Book II is devoted mainly to grammar. It contains 78 pages, however, given to composition. We have here a more advanced study of the sentence from models, an extended treatment of letter-writing, and about 3o pages devoted to the paragraph. The treatment of subjects in these books is in large degree inductive. 2. The Mother Tongue. By Sarah Louise Arnold and George Lyman Kittredge. (Boston: Ginn & Co., I9o2.) Contains 32o pages, with good index, but no table of contents. It has a few sug- gestions for teachers. It is apparently designed for the fifth, sixth, and seventh years of school life. It contains many pictures for study. The selections of prose and TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC A N D IN COMPOSITION 9 poetry for study and conversation are good. ' These selections show much variety and will be found interesting. There are many lessons devoted to information. The book provides for many reproduction lessons. The amount of writing for early grades is large. It contains enough grammar for the seventh grade. • . 3. Steps in English. By Albert LeRoy Bartlett. (Boston: Silver, Burdett & Co., I899.) • Contains I 73 pages. It is designed for early intermediate grades. It gives con- siderable space to the study of grammiar, treating of all the parts of speech with some of their properties. There are many pictures for study. Many poems, fairly well selected, are given for memorizing. Lessons are directed largely to giving informa- tion, especially of nature. The study of correct forms of speech is prominent. Gen- erally the studies and selections are more informing than interesting. Language is made subordinate to the mechanics of composition and grammar. The grammar is more advanced than the general scope of the book would lead us to expect. 4. Modern English Lessons. By Huber Gray Buehler and Caroline W. Hotch kiss. (New York: Newson & Co., I9o3.) Contains 3o8 pages, with full table of contents. It is designed for higher primary and grammar grades. The text is well illustrated. The book treats of the nature of- language, the writing of names, rules for punctuation, common errors, letter-writing, sentences and their structure, and the parts of speech. The literary selections for study and those for memorizing are excellent. The composition subjects are generally related to the literary selections, with an attempt to connect them with the pupil's experience. The treatment of grammaris sufficient and well developed. - 5. Language Lessons from Literature. (Webster-Cooley Series.) By Alice Woodworth Cooley. (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin & Co., I9o3.) Book I, 2oo pages; Book II, 4I 5 pages. Contain excellent tables of contents and indexes. The author has leftit uncertain for what grades the books were designed. They are suitable for grades above the fourth. The books have numerous admirably selected pictures for study. There are full and valuable suggestions to teachers. The language workis based upon the study of good interesting selections ofliterature. Much attention is given to copying and reproduction. Thorough study and discussion of the literary selections is suggested. There are many lessons devoted to spelling and to the study of words. Narration, mainly in the form of biography, and description are introduced as a basis for work in composition. Book II contains enough technical grammar for the seventh or eighth grade. The books are well developed, interesting, practical, and of a high Order of literary merit. 6. Language Lessoms. By Charles DeGarmo. (New York: American Book Co., I897.) Book I contains I 44 pages, with a good index. It has “ progressive exercises in composition and an inductive approach to grammar.” It is designed for Grades III and IV. The book contains abundant pictorial illustrations. There are two classes of exercises running through it, sentence exercises and composition exercises. In composition exercises an outline is oftem suggested. There is not much literature given as a basis of work. Selections from Robinsom Crusoe and the story of the Trojan IO THE SCHOOL REVIEW War are given, however. A large part of the work is informational. The treatment of technical subjects is more advanced than is usually found in books of these grades. Eook II contains I88 pages. It is designed for Grades V and VI. It follows the same general plan as Book I. It provides for much reproduction. Fables, mature-study, extracts from biographies, brief stories, and stories from the Odyssey form the sub- jects for reproduction. There is a full treatment of the mechanics of composition, and of technical grammar. The book is especially strong in the direction of developing a sentence-SenSe. 7. Inductive Course in English. By Larkin Dunton and Augustus H. Kelley. (Boston: Thompson, Brown & Co., I9oo.) Βook I contains I83 pages, with good table of contents and index. It is designed for higher primary and lower grammar grades. It gives brief suggestions to teachers. Considerable space is devoted to picture-study. The book is simple in the treatment of the subject. It aims especially to develop the sentence-sense. There is an abun- dance of copying, dictation, and invention of sentences based upon models. The memory gems are well chosen and graded. The technical grammar is sufficient for the sixth and seventh grades. The language is largely subordinated to the mechanics of composition. Book II contains 244 pages. It follows the same lines as Book I, with fuller and more advanced treatment. The subject is well developed and is treated in a thoroughly inductive manner. The technical grammar is excellent and sufficient. 8. Modern English. By Henry P. Emerson and Ida C. Bender. (New York. The Macmillan Co., I9o5.) Book I is not yet published. Book II contains 3I 2 pages given to grammar and 76 pages to composition, with good table of contents and index. It treats briefly of choice of words, antonyms, synonyms, word-building by suffixes and prefixes, variety of expression, the paragraph and its development, with abundant study of models, narration, biography, description, letter-writing, the principal figures of rhetoric, and punctuation. The appendix has a brief history of the English language. The treat ment of composition gives reason to hope much for Book I. 9. Language Lessons. By Wilbur Fisk Gordy and William Edward Mead. (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, I9o3.) Contains 215 pages, with good table of contents and index. The book is designed for lower grammar grades. It is abundantly illustrated and has well-selected pictures for study. The suggestions to teachers will be found valuable. The book urges much conversation as a preliminary to composition. Conversation, dictation, and reproduction are the main features of the early part of the work. Much is attempted in the way of suggestions and Outlines to stimulate the pupil to originality. The selections for study and reproduction are interesting and good. The technical grammar is sufficient for the sixth grade. Io. New Language Lessons. By Thomas W. Harvey. (New York: American Book Co., I9oo.) Contains I88 pages, with brieftable of contents and full index. It is designed for higher primary and lower grammar grades. The book is in the main an elementary grammar. One lesson in every.five is given to composition. It provides for some TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC AND IN COMPOSITION II picture-study, and has a fairly full treatment of letter-writing. A rather full treat- ment of technical grammar is arranged for early grades. Paraphrasing of poetry is recommended. . II. Two-Book Course in English. By Mary F. Hyde. (Boston: D. C. Heath & Co., I9o2.) Book I contains 2 II pages. It is designed for those beginning to write English, and provides work for three years. It has well-selected pictures for study. Com- positions and conversations are based largely upon poems, myths, and fables. The written work for the earlier years is abundant. The book is interesting and well graded. - I2. Elementary English. By E. Oram Lyte. (New York: American Book Co., I898.) Contains I 6o pages, without table of contents or index. It is designed for three grades. It is profusely illustrated. Some suggestion for the guidance of teachers is given. Somie correlation -with the work in drawing is attempted. Many exercises in filling in outlines of sentences are given. Considerable attention is paid to reproduc- tion, forms of words, and the mechanics of composition. Subjects for work are drawn argely from stories, literature, history, and science. The book contains very little technical grammar. It is rather elementary. - I3. School Composition. By William H. Maxwell and Emma L. Johnston. (New York: American Book Co., I9o2.) Contains 224 pages, with table of contents, but no index. Appendix I has rules for punctuation. Appendix II contains hints to teachers. The book is designed for Grades VIII and IX. It is divided into four parts, each part designed for ten weeks' study. The work is based upon excellent models. An important part of the work for the pupil consists in making outlines of the models, reproducing the models from the outlines, and writing compositions upon similar subjects. The exercises are con- cerned largely with exposition, description, narration, letter-writing, and the para- graph. Much emphasis is laid upon the proper placing of phrases and clauses. The book is notable for its careful directions and for its suggestions of subjects for com- positions. I4. Steps in English. By A. C. McLean, Thomas C. Blaisdell, and John Morrow. (New York: American Book Co., I9o3.) Book I contains 245 pages, with table of contents and index. It is designed for Grades III, IV, and V. Each year's work is divided so as to give ten weeks each to observation lessons, study of pictures, study of stories and poems, and note- and letter- writing. Four lessons are to be given each week to composition and one to grammar. Picture-study has its due place in the book. The material for study is derived from anecdotes, brief descriptions, poems, and natural history. Much of the work consists of information lessons. Book II contains I23 pages of composition work; the rest of the book is given to grammar. The composition work is made up mainly of letter- writing, narration, practical description, and persuasive writing. A brief exercise is given upon the organization and conduct of a society or meeting. The treatment of punctuation is ample. I2 THE SCHOOL REVIEW I 5. Language Lessons. By Robert C. Metcalf and Orville T. Bright. (New York: American Book Co., I896.) Rart I contains I 59 pages, with table of contents. It is designed for primary grades. It gives many suggestive pictures for study. Many information lessons form the basis for conversations, study, and writing. The selections to be memorized are many and good. Letter-writing, spelling, phonetics, and the mechanics of com- position receive due attention. The amount of writing is large for primary grades. Part II contains 256 pages, with brieftable of contents and full index. This is written for grammar grades. It contains studies of Longfellow, Whittier, the Careys, Holmes, Lowell, Bryant, and Emerson. Information lessons are continued, dealing largely with natural history. A few pages are devoted to the history of the English language. There is a brief treatment of grammar suitable for the grades for which the book is written. The book is especially strong in conversational exercises and in the study of words as to good use, formation, derivation, and pronunciation. I6. Lessons in Language. By J. N. Patrick. (Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott Co., I898.) • Contains 224 pages, with alphabetical table of contents. The book is written for Grades IV, V, and VI. It makes no provision for picture-study. There are many suggestions to teachers distributed through the book. Copying, dictation, and reproduction are duly attended to. Much composition work is based upon nature myths and facts from everyday life. Technical grammar is given prominence even in the work intended for the fourth -grade. The language is made subordinate to the mechanics of composition and the technical grammar. I 7. Language through Nature, Literature, and Art. By H. Avis Perdue and Sarah E. Griswold. (Chicago: Rand, McNally & Co., I9o2.) Contains 238 pages, with full table of contents. This is a mew departure in language. It is apparently intended for One year's work; it abounds in good, well- chosen pictures and illustrations. Stories about animals, descriptions of plants and trees, fables, pictures, poems, stories about `artists, occupations, and general informa- tion are made the subjects Of conversations, drawing, and composition lessons. The mechanics of composition are not neglected. The work is correlated with the seasons of the year; e. g., in the fall a picture of an autumnal scene, poems about autumn, and autumnal occupations are to be studied. The book leaves much freedom to the teacher. Most of the work mapped out is for reading and conversation. I8. Everyday English. By Jean Sherwood Rankin. (Boston: Educational Publishing Co., I9o3.) •. Book I contains 232 pages, with table of contents and full index. It is written for intermediate grades. It contains no pictures for study. The book, as the author says, is iconoclastic. It does not treat of the subject in the usual formal way. It gives very little attention to the sentence as such. It is devoted largely to a vocabulary, on the theory apparently that with a full vocabulary and interest on the part of the pupil the sentences will take care of themselves. Much of the instruction is to be given by talks to the children about language; yet the pupil's activity is not forgotten. There is a very full discussion of words, their origin, changes in meaning, names, colloquialisms, slang, dialects, provincialisms, idioms, newspaper English, etc. There TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC AND IN COMPOSITION I3 -is an adequate treatment of narration and description. The appendix gives ample treatment of the mechanics of writing and most valuable helps and suggestions to teachers. It contains also a fulllist of poems for reading and study. If rightly handled, it must prove an inspiring book for pupils and teachers. It might be found too diffi- cult for the pupils of the grades for which it is written. I9. Introductory Language Book. By Alonzo Reed. (New York: Maynard, Merrill & Co., I9o5.) Contains 256 pages, with brief index. It gives no space to picture-study. Very full directions are given to teachers. ' The plam of the book is to teach language through observation and practice, with no attempt to teach technical grammar. Language is studied mainly for correctness of expression, without much regard for interest. Much attention is given to the sentence and to uniting sentences to form paragraphs. Many outlines for compositions are given; these are based largely upom facts Of natural history and short stories. No poetry for memorizing or study is given. 2o. Lessons in English. By W. H. Skinner and Celia M. Burgert. (Boston: Silver, Burdett & Co., I9oo.) - . Contains I 5o pages, with brief index. This is a unique book, designed to adapt to primary instruction the interpretive system of studying literature originated by Professor L. A. Sherman, of the University of Nebraska. It treats of principles of interpretation under the following heads: effects, or hints; emotional words and phrases; the study of metaphor and types; the theme; poses and pictures; sug- gestions for teaching the forms. The book is designed for primary grades, and con- tains reports Of many lessons, with questions and answers of the children given verbatim. Much of the book is addressed to the teacher. The method of the book seems worthy of investigation and trial. • 2 I. New Lessons in Language. By Gordon A. Southworth. (Boston: Benj. H. Sanborn & Co., I9oI.) - Eook I contains 2oI pages, with good index. It is written for intermediate grades. It aims to give much practice in conversation, and to lead children to be more observant of objects around them and of facts in the field of science. Many pictures are given for study. Other subjects for study are largely of the informational kind. Language is subordinated to getting information and to the mechanics of composition. The book is full in its treatment of dictation, reproduction, the study of words, letter- writing, and punctuation. The grammar seems too advanced for intermediate grades. Much written work is required in early grades. Book II contains 33o pages, with table of contents and full index. It is mainly devoted to grammar. About one-fourth of the book is given to composition suitable to grammar grades. The principal sub- jects treated are copying, dictation, letter-writing, narration, description, choice of words, the paraphrasing of poetry, and the study of literature. The appendix gives a brief history of the English language and treats of punctuation. 22. Essentials of English Composition. By Horace S. Tarbell and Martha Tarbell. (Boston: Ginn & Co., I9o2.) - • Contains 28I pages, with good table of contents and index. It is written for higher grammar- and high-school grades. Many suggestions are given to teachers. The subjects treated are: letter-writing, description, narration, reproduction, and I4 •. THE SCHOOL REVIEW essays, study of Longfellow, style, secretarial writings, choice of words, and punctua- tion. The selections of models for study and reproduction are excellent. The sub- jects for compositions are too suggestive of research to be suitable for grammar grades. An especially valuable chapter is the one on secretarial writings. I 23. Foundation Lessons in English. By O. S. Woodley and M. S. Woodley. (New York: The Macmillan Co., I9o2.) Contains 2oI pages, with full table of contents and good index. The book has many pictures for picture-study. There are good suggestions to teachers. The book follows the spiral plan. Much attention is given to variety and exactness of expression and to choice of words. Composition exercises are always to be preceded by Conversation lessons upon the same subject. Sufficient attention is paid to memo- rizing poems and to reproduction. The selections of literature are made with reference to form and literary merit, not for the purpose of conveying information. But little technical grammar is introduced. The amount of writing may be found excessive for the younger pupils. TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC AND COMPOSITION FOR SECONIDARY SCHOOLS . I. Introduction to Rhetoric. By William B. Cairns. (Boston: Ginn & Co., I899.) - Contains 262 pages. Provides for the parallel study of style and invention. Part I, “Style,” discusses language determined by usage (spelling, grammar, punctua- tion, capitalization, reputable and questionable words), and language adapted to the needs of the reader (clearness, force, ease, unity, figures of speech, variety). Part II, “Invention,” devotes one chapter to each of the five forms of discourse. The author's plan contemplates the writing of exercises in narration and description by the student while he is studying Part I; the writing of exercises in exposition, argument, and persuasion while reviewing Part I. Illustrative material and exercises, though not abundant, are sufficient and suggestive. The exercises, especially, joined with the direct, clear, simple expression, go far to secure the success of the author's aim—to ** present rhetoric as a reasonable study.” « 2. Composition and Rhetoric for Schools. By Robert Herrick and I,. T. Damon. (Chicago: Scott, Foresman, & Co., I899, I9o2.) Contains 466 pages in five parts. Part I deals with preliminary work in composition-writing, how to choose a subject, development of topics into paragraphs, building up of sentences, punctuation, letter-writing; Part II covers the princip]es of good usage; Part III is given to diction, and Part IV to the laws of the sentence and paragraph, unity, coherence, etc. Part V includes a study of the whole composition, covering description, narration, exposition, and argumentation. This textbook covers the work necessary for a four-year high-School course in composition. It is rather complex for the young pupil. 3. The Principles of Rhetoric and Their Application. By Adams Sherman Hill. (New York: Harper & Bros., I878.; revised edition, I895.) 4. The Foundations of Rhetoric. By Adams Sherman Hill. (New York: Harper & Bros., I894.) TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC AND IN COMPOSITION I5 5. Beginnings of Rhetoric and Composition: Including Practical Exercises in English. By Adams Sherman Hill. (New York: American Book Co., I9o2.) These three books, too well known to need comment and too important to be omitted, are an interesting study in the evolution of the high-school rhetoric. In each, accuracy in form and diction is made of paramount importance; but the suc- cessive revisions show suggestive modifications of the original plan. The first, though liberal in illustrations, makes no provision for class exercises. Of the 4oo pages of the text, the first 246 are devoted to grammatical purity and the choice, number, and arrangement of words. The remaining pages discuss the kinds of composition, with the emphasis on argument. The treatment of the sentence, the paragraph, and the whole composition, as such, is brief (3o pages). The second book (325 pages) has omitted all study of the forms of discourse; to clearness, force, and ease has been added unity, which is moved to the third section of the work, and given service under the sentence. Part III (2o pages) discusses the paragraph. Though exercises are not introduced, each principle is illustrated by numerous examples of the desirable and the undesirable form side by side. In both books the appendix provides the student with an excellent handbook of punctuation. In the third book (495 pages) punctuation is promoted to the early pages of the text, the paragraph precedes the sentence, and the discussion of the “qualities of expression” is relegated to the last section. The author, however, has not been swept away from his earlier convictions; the book he gives us is, last as first, a rhetoric, and offers the teacher no assistance in the selection of paragraph topics, preparation of outlines, or any other devices of “composition made easy.” 6. Outlines of Rhetoric. By J. F. Genung. (Boston: Ginn & Co.) Contains 342 pages, in three parts. Part I deals with the mastery of the principles of style; Part II, with the organization of materials, including the arrangement of sentences, paragraphs, and the complete essay; Part III is in the form of an appendix, containing rules and illustrative material. This is a carefully worked out text, cover- ing material suitable for second-year pupils in the high school. Especially good on “ diction” and “sentence structure.” 7. The Working Principles of Rhetoric. By J. F. Genung. (Boston: Ginn & Co.) Too difficult for high-school pupils, but of great value to the teacher that wishes to study into the details of the organic processes, of composition. 8. Elements oj English Composition. By Tuley Francis Huntington. (New York: The Macmillam Co., I9o4.) Contains 362 pages, Planned for a course of four years, two recitations per week. Part I (I 28 pages) discusses planning and writing, with considerable emphasis upon the selection and gathering of material and the various methods of paragraph develop- ment. Part II (73 pages) deals with revision: essentials of sentence structure, kinds of sentences, the choice and use of words. Part III (I 39 pages) treats Of letter- writing—an especially detailed and helpful treatment of the subject—Of narration, and of description, each in a full chapter; it relegates both exposition and argument, in rather summary fashion, to the concluding 34 pages. The appendix supplies hints on the preparation of manuscript, and rules of punctuation and capitalization. g» I 6 - THE SCHOOL REVIEW Rnowledge of grammaris taken for granted. A distinctive feature of the book is the large number of exercises based on revision of previous writing of the student, and on his own experience and observation. This characteristic, together with the form of «direct address so constantly used, should go far toward making the pupil realize the practical and individual nature of the study of rhetoric. . 9. Studies in English Composition, with Lessons in Language and Rhetoric. By Harriet L. Keeler and Emma C. Davis. (Boston: Allyn & Bacon, I892.) Contains 2 Io pages. Arranged for Schools having a weekly exercise in composi- tion, the course extending through three or four years. Of the twenty chapters, thirteen are devoted to composition (narration and description, eight; persuasion, two; versifi- cation, letter-writing, book reviews, One each); two chapters, to a study of authors; and of the remaining five, one to the sentence and paragraph. Rules for punctuation and the use of capitals, with lists of common abbreviations, are slipped into an appen- dix. The general plan provides a selected model for study, followed by parallel exercises. These, usually lists of topics, are accompanied by ** suggestions to the writer,” which supplement the apparently meager treatment of rhetoric. . Io. Primer of Essentials in Grammar and Rhetoric. By Marietta Knight. (New York: American Book Co., I9o4.) «* Will meet the need felt by many teachers who do not care for an extended text- book on grammar and rhetoric. In 64 pages the book sums up all the necessary rules for the structure of sentences. The directions for theme-writing are brief, clear, and helpful. All illustrative material is omitted, but it is assumed that the teacher will provide enough of this in connection with each subject; this suggestion is one of the best things in the book. The “Don'ts” are well worth reading. II. First Manual of Composition. By Edwin H. Lewis. (New York: The Macmillam Co., I897.) Contains 292 pages in six chapters, covering a series of selections to bé used as models for general composition work, with practical explanations for the benefit of the pupil; punctuation and sentence structure; description; narration; exposition; and argumentation. The revised edition (I9o2) is valuable for first- and second-year High-school work. A compendium of useful rules for spelling, punctuation, and correctness of sentence form. The illustrations are unusually interesting and pertinent' I 2. Inductive Lessons in Rhetoric. By Frances W. Lewis. (Boston: D. C. Heath & Co., I9oo.) Contains 3oo pages. Intended to accompany the study of literature “throughout the course.'' The first three chapters treat of the qualities of style: clearness, force, elegance; the next six, in order: verse, description, narration, exposition, argumenta- tion, persuasion. An appendix of 43 pages presents the principles of capitalization and punctuation, discusses sentence form from the point of view of grammar, provides for a study of letter-writing, and adds further exercises upon the principles already advanced. The plan of the book is indicated by the title; the pupil is not “ given the facts and principles of rhetoric,'' but “helped to discover them for himself.” The leading questions in the body of the text and the pages of rules in the appendix indicate the inevitable falling away from this high standard. The illustrative material is abundant and well chosen; the exercises in composition-writing-the themes mainly TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC AND IN COMPOSITION I7 from literature—are varied and numerous; and though one may be skeptical of the result with certain classes, there can be no doubt of the author's statement as to “the stimulating effect of turning the pupil into a book full of questions.” * I3. Composition and Rhetoric. By Sarah E. H. Lockwood and Mary Alice Emerson. (Boston: Ginn & Co., I9oI.) - Contains 47o pages in four parts. Part I has a review of the principles of gram- mar and of the rules of punctuation. Part II is devoted to description and narration. -Part III contains a treatment of the paragraph, the essay, and sentence structure. Part IV gives a study of longer prose forms, and versification. The book attempts too much in the way of details of both grammar and rhetoric to be of great use in the high school. The treatment of “figures of speech” is clear. I4. Composition—Rhetoric. By Mrs. Margaret S. Mooney. (Albany: Brandon Printing Co., I9o3.) - Contains 344 pages. It is divided into two parts, and has an appendix. Part I, in six chapters, covers an exposition of the various forms of discourse, including nar- ration, description, exposition, and argumentation. Part II, in eleven chapters, explains the structure of the paragraph and the sentence, the various theories of versi- fication, figures of speech, style, etc. The appendix gives a summary of the rules for punctuation and capital letters. This book is too detailed to be easily adapted to high-School use. • 15. Rhetoric in Practice. By A. G. Newcomer and Samuel S. Seward. (New York: Henry Holt & Co.) Contains eight chapters, 285 pages. A chapter is given to each of the following: narration, description, exposition, argumentation, paragraph structure, sentences, words and the mechanical processes of spelling, punctuation, and letter forms. It is a suggestive book, steering clear of the conventional in rhetorical form. I6. Principles of Composition. By Henry G. Pearson. (Boston: D. C. Heath & Co., I897.) - Contains an introduction by Professor Arlo Bates, and Io6 pages oftext. Arranged for a freshman course at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, two recitations a week, for sixteen weeks. Of the thirteen chapters, the first five deal with the whole composition; the next three, with the paragraph; the next three, with the sentence; the last two, with words. An appendix of eight pages presents an admirable summary of the principles of good use as applied to diction, grammar, and punctuation. The book is intended as a “manual from which the student may learn the general principles of English composition.” As it is designed to “accompany a thorough course in theme-writing,” it provides few exercises and illustrations. Though it is written for more advanced classes, the simple, direct style and original and forceful handling recommend the book for use in the last year of a high-School course. (The admirable plan of this original book—applying the principles of unity, coherence, and emphasis, successively to the whole composition, the paragraph, and the sentence, ending instead of beginning with words—is elaborated by the addition of numerous exercises, examples, and lists of topics (with 34 pages of preliminaries and 5o pages of appendix) into a good working manual of 387 pages, published by I8 • THE SCHOOL REVIEVV. .** the same firm: Compositiom and Rhetoric, by A. H. Espenshade, I9o4—one of the best adaptations of the Harvard doctrine of English composition to the last years of the high-school course.) I7. Composition and Rhetoric. By Maude L. Radford. (New York: Hinds, Noble & Eldredge, I9o3.) Contains 375 pages. Planned for the first two years of the high-school course. The first three chapters discuss the principle of unity; the next two, the principles of coherence and mass, as applied to the whole composition and to the paragraph. The two following chapters handle the subject of the sentence and the word. The remaining four chapters—not quite half the book—are devoted to the forms of dis- course: description, narration, exposition, argumentation. An appendix provides rules for punctuation, examples of faulty sentences (thirty pages), and of barbarisms and improprieties (ten pages), and additional exercises upon the principles already studied. Each principle is illustrated by well-chosen selections—frequently from students' themes—and enforced by pertinent questions; and abundant provision is made for written exercises. Especially elaborate and effective treatment is accorded to description and narration. 18. Composition—Rhetoric. By Fred Newton Scott and Joseph Villiers Denney. (Boston: Allyn & Bacon, I897.). Contains 373 pages, divided into seven chapters and an appendix. The first three chapters deal with the paragraph. Every detail of paragraph structure from indentation to summary is carefully explained and illustrated by quotations. Chap. 4 covers sentence structure. Long and short sentences, loose, periodic, and balanced sentences, are defined and their use explained. Chap. 5 is devoted to the logical arrangement of ideas, and chap. 6 takes up the treatment of these parts with refercnce to emphasis and proportion. Chap. 7 deals with “What Not to Say.*' The appendix contains directions for preparing and Criticising manuscripts, material for analysis, subjects for compositions, and a summary of rules for the use of capitals and punctua- tion. As a whole, too difficult for most high-school pupils. The treatment of the ** paragraph* in this book is the best that we have discovered. The book should be carefully studied, from cover to cover, by every teacher of English. I9. Elementary Composition. By Fred Newton Scott and Joseph Villiers Denney. (Boston: Allyn & Bacon, I9oo.) Contains 24I pages, in six chapters. Two chapters are given to oral and written forms of composition under the general idea of development of a topic. Chaps. 3-6 include discussions of description, narration, exposition, and argument, designed to be carried out by both oral and written recitations. At the end of the book is a list of words that are often misused. Useful in first-year work, both for oral and written expression. lt contains a valuable set of “models'' of the different kinds of discourse, especially narration. 2o. Composition—Literature. By Fred Newton Scott and Joseph Villiers Denney. (Boston: Allyn & Bacon, I9o2.) Contains 389 pages, in twelve chapters. Chap. I has some suggestions on “ First Principles” of special interest to the teacher. Chap. 2 treats of the “Planning of a Composition,” with particular reference to the idea of unity. The same subject is TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC AND IN COMPOSITION I9 carried over into chap. 3, with added emphasis on the grouping of ideas. Paragraphs and sentences are taken up in detail in chap. 4; words and their use in chap. 5. Chap. 6 explains figures of speech. Chaps. 7-I I are given to the discussion and illustration of the four forms of discourse—narration, description, exposition, and argumentation. Chap. I 2 contains a brief and interesting exposition of versification. An ** all-around” high-school text. As good as the Composition—Rhetoric, but simpler in form and content. 2I. A Modern Composition and Rhetoric. By Lewis Worthington Smith and James E. Thomas. (Boston: Benjamin H. Sanborn & Co., I9oI.) Contains 398 pages. Designed to cover a course of two years. Parts I and II (with the aid of the appendix) treat of accuracy; Parts III and IV (about a third of the book), of artistic effectiveness in composition. Like most rhetorics of the last ten years, the book follows the Scott and Denney plan of proceeding from the whole composition to the sentence and the word. Much more than the usual space is allowed to the subjects Of diction, the use of figures, and prosody. Especially full and effective treatmentis accorded the question of sentence structure: the relation ofform to thought, and the means of subordination. Illustrative extracts and suggestions for written exercises are abundant and helpful. 22. The Principles of Rhetoric, with Constructive and Critical Work in Com- position. By Elizabeth H. Spalding. (Boston: D. C. Heath & Co., I9o5.) Contains 267 pages. Though complete in itself, the rhetoric “offers opportu- nities for the application of rhetorical theory” in a study of Silas Marner and The Vision of Sir Launfal. The twenty-one chapters of the work treat most of the topics usually discussed in high-school textbooks, but in an order apparently based on purely esoteric principles. Five—not successive—chapters, headed “ Answers to Pupils' Inquiries,'' deal with punctuation, capitalization, the correct use of certain words and grammatical forms, and letter-writing; two chapters are devoted to the study of poetry; and the ever-useful appendix offers interesting suggestions for the ** Cor- relation of English and Library Work.” An especially good feature of the book is the abundant use of material from students' essays. The topics suggested for class exercises are generally excellent, and in comforting variety. 23. A Progressive Course in English for Secondary Schools. By Charles N. Stebbins. (Boston: Sibley & Co., I9o4.) Contains nine chapters, 238 pages. The first three chapters are given to the use of capital letters, punctuation, and Oral composition. Letter-writing takes up the third chapter, and theme work, including narration, the rest of the book. The various forms of discourse are generously illustrated by quotations. Attached to the regular rhetorical work is an outline of Ivanhoe, chapter by chapter. 24. Elementary English Composition. By Frederic Henry Sykes. (New York: Charles Scribners' Sons.) Contains 328 pages, in six parts. Part I, under the head of narration, deals with story-telling, letter-writing, and biography. Part II, under description, brings in an interesting study of the qualities of style. Part III is an exposition of the short story— its principles, motives, characters, action, and setting. Parts IV and V take up exposi- tion and persuasion. Part VI explains the principles of versification. The appendix 2O THE SCHOOL REVIEW contains a list of the signs used in correcting proof and manuscripts. The text illus- trates the idea that composition is not **correctional but creative.*' It contains a unique collection of quotations, both in poetry and prose, suitable for first-and second- year work in the high school. The use it makes of old legends and heroic tales is suggestive and interesting. - 25. Elementary Composition. By W. F. Webster. (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin &.Co., I9o3.) - Contains 324 pages. It is suitable for the last two grades in the grammar grades and the first year in the high school. Of the eight chapters, one is devoted to each of the following subjects: kinds of quotations, with a study of the punctuation, structure of paragraphs; sentences, with special reference to use of words and figures of speech; composition in general; choice of subject and amplification of topic; narration; description; letter-writing. Each chapter is fully illustrated by apt selections. An appendix contains “Hawthorne's Great Stone Face” and a summary of rules for punctuation. The text covers, in a delightful way, the work of the last two grades in the grammar school and the first year in the high school. 26. English: Composition and Literature. By W. F. Webster. (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin & Co., I9oo.) - - Contains 275 pages. Arranged for a course of four years, five recitations per week, in composition and literature. A detailed outline for this course occupies seven pages of the introduction. Chaps. I and 2 discuss the distinctions between the various forms of discourse, and the principles that should govern “the choice of theme;*' chaps. 3-6 discuss narration, description, exposition, and argument; chaps. 7—9, paragraphs, sentences, words. An appendix furnishes, besides the usual rules for punctuation, various suggestions to the teacher, and a “supplementary list of literature.” The author's aim has been, not ** to write a rhetoric,” but to ** teach the methods of simple, direct, and accurate expression.'' To this end, an endeavor has been made to include only those principles ** which every author of a book on composition or rhetoric has thought essential.” Illustrative material is effectively used. The chapter on narration treats incidentally unity, mass, and coherence; and also bestows a touch upon kinds of sentences, choice of words, and number of paragraphs. Following each chapter are several pages of suggestive questions and exercises, many of which, like the treatment of the forms of discourse, suggest decidedly advanced work for beginners. 27. Composition and Rhetoric by Practice. By William Willams. (Boston: D. C. Heath & Co., I89I.) * Contains 329 pages. Basic idea: “Little theory and much practice is by far the most effective method of treating composition.'' Belonging to the period preceding the predominance of the paragraph, the book deals largely with the separate sentence. Grammar, capitalization, punctuation, appear boldly as integral parts Of the text proper; while the sentences “to be corrected*' march in platoons, with no hint of their impending doom. The chapters on poetry have much to say of classification and scansion, and are devoid of “tone color” and ** personal appeal.'' A good example of the rhetorics that Smiled upon the paraphrase, and inculcated elegance by the reunit- ing of a hundred disconnected sentences. After all, since revision plays so important a part in good writing, can we afford to condemn a method that trained the student to detect errors? And are the results of the new way so uniformly successful that we can abandon the old with no lingering regret? *. TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC A N D IN COMPOSITION ' 2 I DISCUSSION COMIPOSITION IN tIHIE . GIRAIDES MR. HENRY L. CLAPP, George Putnam School, Roxbury, Mass.: I wish I could say to you that I am going to tell you something new; but you know there is nothing new under the sun. What I have to say has been said a great many times in a different way—in a better way perhaps. But while I do not aim to say something new, I wish to mention some things that I have found to be true. Of books of prose and poetry, of magazines and newspapers, of books for adults and children, of language books and grammars, of talks and speeches, especially just before public officers are to be elected, and perhaps I might say at teachers' conventions, we have an abundance and to spare. We are well-nigh Overwhelmed with this great mass of language material. It is not a question of where we shall go to find it, but of how we shall get rid of a large portion of it, and select that part which will serve our purpose best. I cannot go into this great, extensive, and serviceable field, because I have not strength, and have not prepared myself for it by Counting the molecules of water in the ocean, or some similar work. . The most important “Aids in Teaching English* refer, as it seems to me, to methods rather than to materials, to seeing clearly the constitution of children rather than to the make-up of books. I acknowledge the great service of books; but they are of Secondary importance, while the children's educational treatment is of the first importance. The teacher may use the books; the books should not use the teacher. So I shall refer to methods first and principally, and books later, if I can. I will mention these points: I. Perhaps the most important part of any language instruction is the for- mation of a vocabulary clearly understood and covering a wide range of subjects, observations, and experiences. I am now talking about elementary things; I am an elementary. I do not refer to that misty, emotional, prematurely taught vocabulary that is expected to be understood ten years later. I have little sym- pathy with the process of feeding to children food so strong that it cannot be digested for eight or ten years. That produces mental dyspepsia. I would give them such mental food as they can relish, digest, and assimilate now. I would not force their emotions any more than I would their speech. If care in this respect is not taken in the grammar school, it may not be in the secondary school. Professor Copeland of Harvard says in his work on Freshman English, which I hope you will all read: Two-thirds of the daily work lies in local and contemporary description and narrative. The young men must not dream dreams or see visions, nor recall their childhood Or their first fish, Or their last summer vacation; they are to open their eyes, and keep them open, to scenes and events near at hand. It seems from this that some secondary schools do not attend to this matter— not yours, but some in New York. Give the vocabulary time to grow sturdy, as plants do in the open air, just as the vocabulary grows outside of School in 22. - THE SCHOOL REVIEW connection with enlarged experiences. Our Schoolhouse language is apt to be a hothouse product—forced, lacking in virility, and unnatural. There is no better way of consciously adding to the vocabulary of children , than by giving them regular opportunities to write about their own experiences or about natural objects. The children then use only the words they under- stand. The new words supplied are applied so often to the objects to which they belong that they come to mean something definite, precise, to the children. There is a clarity about this kind of writing that is not surpassed by any other kind. So a description of their own experiences has a clarity that the repro- duction of a story has not. The first steps in scientific writing—thatis, in accurate writing—are taken when the children describe natural objects and their own experiences. They form the habit of stating the exact truth, than which nothing is more important in language work. “Say,” says Denman Thompson, “honest, now, can a press agent tell the truth ?” He might add another: “ Can a Simon- pure politician tell the truth ?” The claim is made that the newspaper is a great educator. Perhaps it will tell us who tells the truth. - Whatever doubt there may be in the minds of others, who are unacquainted with the results of children's personal observations and written descriptions of natural objects and their own experiences, there is no doubt in my mind that the only proper way to learn the exact meaning of words. is in connection with the objects or things or experiences to which those words belong. The child who frequently sees illustrations and makes frequent use of such words as “trans- parent,” “opaque,” “translucent,” “elastic,” “resinous,” “iridescent,” “metal- lic,” “stratified,” “whorled,” “scalloped,” “lobed,” “liliaceous,” or **thumb,” “tongue,” “wrist,” “knee,” “knuckle,” all hard words to spell, and scores of other words, will make a definite and practical addition to his vocabulary— a vocabulary that will grow up with him and into him as a part of his mental stock to be used immediately when required. So one great thing is to enlarge the children's experiences. Why, we see it in everything. How much the boys know now about motors, because they see them ! They go to the shops where electrical things are done, and they can talk about armatures, and coils, and connections, and positives, and negatives, and volts, and all that sort of thing, with Some intelligence, because they have had their experiences enlarged in that direction. 2. There should be written into the class program a regular place for language forms, known as dictation lessons, such as I have seen going on regularly for seventeen years in the school with which I am connected. The lower classes have during each week four periods of fifteen minutes each, and the upper classes three periods of twenty minutes each. The material, in the first place, was laid out carefully and apportioned to each teacher. There was a place—I mean a definite place—for abbreviations, possessives, marks of punctuation, capitals, series of words separated by Commas, quotations, divided quotations, quotations within quotations, and a great many direct quotations that do not begin with capitals. That is the nearest thing to anything new that I shall say. During TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC A N D IN COMPOSITION 23 the last ten or fifteen years, and especially during the last week, I have examined a great many books on language, and I have found but three books in the whole lot that refer to this matter to which I have just referred, not one of which treats the subject adequately. Here we go on giving this rule, “The first word of a direct quotation should begin with a capital,'' and we read the magazines all the time and see it controverted every minute, and see no inconsistency, nothing fictitious about that rule. I am astounded. But that was the beginning. The teachers have added from year to year very serviceable material to that original apportionment; so that each one's collection now is unique, individual, and original, and adapted to her everyday needs; and her everyday needs are mostly correlations for which no book is sufficient. The method is especially designed to cultivate the habit of taking the initiative; and that method should apply to every study. • Day before yesterday I came down in the car with a prominent grocer, who lives in my vicinity, and he said: “Have you a boy that you could send to me?” “What kind of a boy?” “Well,” he said, “not this kind of a boy. I tell the boy that I have now, and whom I am going to discharge today, this, and he does it, and then he stands waiting for me to tell him to do something else. Then I tell him the next thing, and he does that; and so on the whole day through. Why,” he said, “I cannot stand such a boy as that. What do you think is the matter?” Well, I had my own opinion; I think I had better not express it just now. You may think I am toO iconoclastic, but perhaps you will gather from what I am going to say what I think about it. -. The cumulative force of this regular, systematic work is properly appreciated by those who have experienced its results. No others can properly appreciate it. 3. There should be regular lessons in, and opportunities for, making topics and subtopics for composition work in the grammar schools. Here the judg- ment of the pupil is constantly appealed to. “Is this point more important than that?” “Does this point depend upon that, or vice versa?” “Is this, arrange- ment natural, reasonable, and logical, or not?” Every pupil in the grammar school makes his own arrangement. A pupil's list is rearranged On the board by the teacher, after the judgment of the pupils has been called for and finally approved. Those who come nearest to the approved arrangement are grati- fied—and all try to come near it. This work is done regularly every two months on all kinds of composition work that we do—at one time on imaginative work, at another on experience, at another on reproduction, and at another time on a letter. That we have had going some seventeen years. The power developed in children by such careful and regular training cannot be easily appreciated by those who have not had a hand in doing the work. Here also the habit of taking the initiative is purposely cultivated. That ought to be the policy of every school. One merit of the work is that it can be carried out by the average teacher successfully. That shows that it is on the right basis. In my opinion, no work is properly laid out or properly managed that cannot be successfully carried out by the average teacher. If we are so fortunate as to secure an extraordinary 24 THE SCHOOL REVIEW teacher once in a while, we should rejoice and be glad. But we should beware of trying to make chrysanthemums as large as cabbages by special departmental work and Other hothouse processes. What we want is stamina, power, initia- tive, in every child, so far as his constitution will admit. We must not be satis- fied with a little off of the top, from a few choice spirits who are made to be such a credit to us. I want the work, of whatever kind it may be—drawing, music, science, language, or what not—to be so conducted that a large majority of every class will succeed so well that we shall not dislike to show that work, and that we shall not do as the teacher whom Dr. Rice saw did. You remember the book that he wrote, perhaps. After he had been all over the United States, and spent six months, he went into a room, and the teacher evidently did not want him to look at the papers. He took up one, and she took it away from him and said: “Oh, that is the poorest paper in the class.* He took up another, and she said: “That also is the poOrest paper in the class;'' and so on. There were not any fit to be seen, in her opinion. • Now, these two sets of papers that I have brought down here were not pre- pared for any such use as I am going to make of them. Here are two sets of topics. I have been speaking about the preparation of topics, and what power it produces in children. These illustrate what I mean. Every member of the class was represented. The topics on history are first drafts, just as they came from the children's hands, written without any instruction in arranging a list of topics on that particular subject, and about a week after the subject had been dropped. There was no rearrangement whatever by the teacher. Each paper is individual, original, and convincing, but with all the errors that pupils are likely to make. Now, to me here is evidence of power and stamina, and that the work is on the right basis, because all the children in this case, I take it, suc- ceeded. I want you to look at them. I don't say that they are without mistakes, that they could not be done a great deal better; but I am thinking of what a lift that would be to a secondary school if all the grammar schools did it, and what a lift that would be to the freshman English if they went from the grammar schools to Some private school and did not go to a regular secondary School at all. I do not believe that forty-seven teachers in Rhode Island, for instance, taking them just as they come, could sit down and write as creditable a set of topical arrange- ments on a familiar topic, such as “What I Like to do Best”—that is pretty familiar—taking into account the handwriting, freedom from blots and mistakes, and logical arrangement, to Save their positions as teachers. As usual, my belief is founded on experience, which was interesting in spite of its exasperating nature. Professor Copeland says that one of the chief faults of freshman English is in the construction of paragraphs. From this we may infer that Some secondary schools do not succeed in teaching the construction of the paragraph, if they teach it at all—not your schools, but some in Ohio. 4. Pupils must be trained to correct composition work all through the gram- mar school. Opportunity for such work should be insisted on. If the judgment is to be trained properly, there must be ample opportunities for its exercise. The TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC A N D IN COMPOSITION 25 teacher's judgment should be the final court of appeal, and nothing else. The class should play the game, while the teacher serves as umpire, nothing more. As a means of teaching written English this work is indispensable to me. This is the result of my experience. 5. I have found many aids to the teaching of spoken English, SO far as our schools are concerned, in opportunities to talk in the schoolroom. There the most favorable conditions for talking should be found, but unfortunately are not. A normal-school girl recently admitted that during her whole course she had not talked five consecutive minutes; that during weeks and months she did not say a whole sentence; that for days she did not say a word. Isn't that the case with some of our grammar schools and secondary schools? Ithink So. What oppor- tunities to talk do they have ? Now, a teacher who is gifted in the use of lan- guage, who has a hemorrhage of words every once in a while, likes to keep the faucet open. I do it myself. She may add to the fluency of speech a striking per- sonality—Idon't object to striking personalities, beauty, and all that sort of thing; but there is an element of danger in it—and then the entrancement of the pupils is made all the more certain, seductive, weakening, and possibly futile. The pupils simply lether entrance, and do nothing to speak of themselves. I don't mean that thatis always the case, but Ihave seenit done many times. She has little idea ofthe difficulties that beset the way of the slow talker or writer; she cannot sympathize with him, nor get down to his level to help him, because she has never been down to his level. She may like to talk, or considerit imperative that she should talk, considering there is so much to be done, and yet she may not have the pleasing personality. She may be conscientious and devoted to her work, but may not 4ake the right view of the educative process by which oral language is best developed. Ionce knew a teacher of that sort, and a mischievous and irreverent boy wrote a notice something like this, and pinned it on the door where she was to enter: • Lecture by Marm Blank, today at I P. M. All are respectfully invited—to stay away. Go one—go all. It was disrespectful, but not lacking in point. What would the boys of a base- ball nine think of the umpire who talked so long and so well that they could not play the game ? The pupils should do the most of the talking in the schoolroom. That may sound new; it is not new, it is history now. What should they talk about ? The easiest thing is the story, and so easy that everyone uses that, and some scarcely anything else. The written reproduction of a story is the poOrest kind of com- position work. I believe that is generally acknowledged. I remember, when I was in Clinton a week or two ago, Isaid that, and there was a noise all Over the room, as if they approved, and then I thought I was right. It is the poorest because the thought is another's, as well as most of the vocabulary. It is a seduc- tive form of memory work, both individuality and originality being wanting. The memory is the chief factor; of original thought there is none, or scarcely 26 THE SCHOOL REVIEW any. The vocabulary, like a garment, is put on for the occasion, the recitation, and straightway taken off when the ordeal is passed. I shall not Soon forget a little scene that I saw in the little Canadian village of Yamachiche, where I spent some weeks two or three years ago. I was walking along a lonely road, and I saw a number of children, as I came within sight of a house, having, I thought, a rather hilarious time. As I came nearer, I saw that they were all dressed up in their mothers' and fathers' clothes. The girls were trailing their dresses around in great shape, and the boys were holding up their pantaloons, and they were having a fine time. I don't know that that made any permanent impression upon them. They probably took them off after the occasion had passed. But it made rather a permanent impression upon me, and it seems very much like this vocab- ulary that is put On for the recitation and taken off as soon as the recitation is passed. The author's vocabulary is used because of the inability of the pupil to call up synonyms fast enough to make sure of expressing the author's thought. He rather trusts to the words of the author than to his own, especially if his experi- ences are rather limited, if he is not a good reader. If he reads outside, why, he may supply synonymous words fast enough to express the thought of the author pretty well. But self-expression is infinitely better as a developer of power in the use of language. Now, the oral reproduction of a story has the same limitations as the written; it is serviceable, but in a secondary or tertiary degree. But what else can the children talk about freely ? “Freely” is a good word. A reproduction is trammeled by the thought and words of the author. Children can be brought up to talk freely about all their lessons in school. I have seen it done a great many years. They can ask the questions, discuss them, and answer them. When they cannot answer them, of course the teacher is expected to do so. Sometimes she can't. I have the children ask me a great many questions to which Isay right off that I don't know. I am not afraid to say that I don't know. They can talk freely, because they can use their own thought and vocabulary. They develop power to conform their thoughts and language to constantly chan- ging conditions; and that is what we must do in real life—adapt ourselves to con- stantly changing conditions. Reason is the chief factor, not memory. That should always be kept in mind. They lose self-consciousness—-that is, the thought of themselves—in talking of the subject; and that is the secret of the best talking—to lose consciousness of self. The educative value of children's ques- tioning in school is known to only a few. It is the natural process of learning, and should never be stopped by a school. It is like a tremendous head of water unceasingly pressing for an outlet. Suddenly shut off the flowing current, and the water pipe is wrenched, sometimes burst. Suddenly shut off the child's natural current of questions, designed for his development and education, and his mental constitution is wrenched; but he cannot help himself. He may not realize what the real trouble is, but often takes his turn in making trouble. The ever- increasing current, when dammed up, is sure to overflow and make trouble somewhere. I have made many troubles for myself, quite unnecessarily if I had looked into the matter a little deeper. If I had looked into the constitution of the TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC A N D IN COMPOSITION 27 children a little deeper, and I had not kept my nose in books, I should have come to the truth a little sooner. This may not be the truth, only my idea of it. It is a mere trüism to say that the child learns to talk by talking and to write by writing. So his English depends on opportunity, methods, and practice primarily, and on books and' ear-service secondly. The children's obvious characteristics, faculties, and habits should determine the bases of their education, and every book that conforms thereto will be welcomed as a most valuable aid. STORY-TELLING AS AN AID TO ENGLISH EXPRESSION MIss SARAE CONE BRYANT: I have always been accustomed to tell people that I like very much to talk, that I was never stage-struck or embarrassed; but I admit that I am distinctly frightened and very much embarrassed this morning, because I find myself in the awkward position of having almost to contradict, if I am honest in my own opinion, the speech of a man who has a thousand times my experience and a great deal more than my ability and reputation. The truth is that I don't want to contradict the speaker who has just preceded me, but I do want to present, as an important side, a side which he has definitely stated to be very unimportant, and I have to do it because I believe it. It seems to me that if the whole of the English language were merely the ability to get easily and readily words for one's own thoughts, it would be true that all such processes as depend for their success upon imitation would be base and irrelevant. But it is not true that the English language is wholly that, or that expression in it is wholly that; and if you will suffer me to be just a little bit roundabout, Ithink I can tell you what I mean better than by any direct statement. I have just come from talking in the schools and for the superintendents of the Middle West, and I have been for two months altogether with teachers and with pupils. It happened naturally that such impressions as Ihad with regard to certain common habits of teachers and pupils were very much strengthened, and so just at this minute I find one very strong single impression in my mind which I want to give you. That impression is that we have somehow come to forget, in our eager work, that English is a spoken language; and by that I meam simply that we seem to have a feeling that English is a body of visible signs for abstract ideas, and that it presupposes a nation of mutes—people who cannot speak. Now, English—of Course, nobody needs to reiterate this—is a body of sounds, isn't it? And it is not just a body of syllable sounds, that is, vowels, and con- sonants; but, if you stop to think of it, it is a body of sound in inflection. For instance, if a person says a thing in one tone of voice, it is very different from what it would be in another tone of voice. That is not a matter outside of lan- guage; that is language; that is English; and English is not English except as “she is spoke.” When English is written, it is simply a substitute for speaking; that, at any rate, is the way it looks to me. It seems to me that when we appre- ciate the beauty of language, for instance, even in written literature, we appreciate it through our ability to imagine by sound what is there written. Now, the beauty of English is the beauty of sound, and it is a rare and wonderful beauty, 28 TH E SCHOOL REVIEW which, alas, we are almost losing from the face of the earth. Our ability to pre- serve and pass on the beauty of the English language seems to me to depend very largely on ourability to recognize this plain fact, that English is a matter of sound. It has seemed to me that all the glorious written literature which we have would be powerless to preserve for us and transmit for us the real beauty of the English language, if by any chance the whole country at large should suddenly become afflicted with all of the terrible flaws in speaking which afflict different parts of the country. For instance, suppose that the Brooklyn way of pronoun- cing or—the oi, you know; woild, for instance, instead of world—should be com- bined with a certain trick the middle westerners have, of pronouncing all final en's un's; and then suppose that should be combined with the rolling r that they have in some parts of the South and West; and then that you should have the nasal trick which you New Englanders have to such glorious perfection; then just take any beautiful line of Shakespeare or the Bible, and see what has become of it. I tested it this morning. I went Over a number of sentences in this way to see what had become of the language, and finally I lighted upon this sentence: “All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players.” I don't remember whether I have quoted it correctly or not. I just changed it as I had heard teachers in the last two months change those different words, and it became this: “All the woild's a stage, and all the men and womun merely players.” That is intelligible, perhaps, but the beauty of the English language has been irrevocably lost in that sentence. If by any horrible mischance the whole country could be infected with all of its flaws, instead of each part with its own, you would no longer have a beautiful English language; it would not matter how it was written; you see, it would not be there. Now, it seems to me a very valuable and necessary thing that we teachers should realize that English is a spoken language, and that the beauty of it is something transmissible, but, alas, easily losable. I am coming at the idea I started with. The children in our schools are particularly open to all forms of error in the way of pronunciation and inflection and general use of words, because, in the first place, of course, they have everything to learn anyway, so they have that, too; and then they are so much about with the children of the poorer classes in the city streets, and even in the country playgrounds, that they hear all kinds of foreign idioms, and dreadful slum idioms, and all that kind of thing; and nowadays in just about one-half of all our homes the children do not hear English in a beautiful, clear, exquisite manner; and so it comes down to the plain fact that they depend on the teacher usually for the English they get. I am not pessimistic, and I am a most humble admirer of the work of the English teachers all over the country; but I must say that the past few years have made me feel very sadly that spoken English was at a discount among even our mature and intelligent teachers. I have had for two years now a very interesting class at Simmons College, which has a large proportion of teachers in it, and those teachers have been friendly and frank with me. They came there to learn what little I could give them about English, to teach again to their pupils, and TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC A N D IN COMPOSITION 29. some of them are old teachers and know a great deal more than Ido about methods. Eut nearly every one of those teachers was practically mute in English, not because she could not write, or choose words, or find medium for expression, but because she could not speak English as it ought to be spoken. The voice, the enunciation, the inflection, the whole thing was crude, childlike, and almost always nasal. Now, do you think in speaking of voice that I am departing entirely from the subject of English ? You see my feeling is that English is something fluid; it is thought in language, and the language lives On the voice. I don't see how it can be language at all, if it is not borne to you by the voice. And isn't it true that the voice, and inflection, and pronunciation, can make farce out of tragedy ? It certainly is. You can twist up your nose and pro- nounce a tragic line, and have it become the most utter farce; or you can säy it without any common-sense in the inflection, and it becomes farce. I want to speak of this a little later in connection with the value of imitation. Just at present I am lingering, I know, On the thought that children come largely to the teacher for their inspiration in English. Of course, they don't know that they do. All young children certainly do learn most easily by imitation, and they certainly learn most easily by unconscious imitation; and what I have to say applies chiefly to the young children. Children imitate every single inflec- tion of your voice; they imitate everything they hear around them in the line of voice and pronunciation and all; , and that is why, of course, the children of each generation reproduce all the faults of their locality. I remember an instance of this which seemed to me very noticeable. A little while ago I was in Milwaukee. I was visiting where there was a child two years old-of course, much lower than the age of conscious imitation—and I was reading him Little Black Sambo one day. Do you know Little Black Sambo, a little book for very small children ? There is one part of the story in which Little Black Sambo says: “ Please, Mr. Tiger, don't eat me up.” It keeps going over and over again that same way: “Please, Mr. Tiger, don't eat me up.” In my effort to interest the baby I forgot that he was, after all, human, although a baby, and I emphasized very much more than was necessary. I kept saying, “Please Mr. Tiger, don't eat me up,” which was very silly of me, but I had for- gotten that he was human. Presently I found his mouth moving. He was following along the story with me. At last he began to speak out loud, and he said, exactly the way I did: “ Please, Mr. Tiger, don't eat me up.” Then I realized it was working there; he was imitating. Every time he thought of that story afterwards he would think of it just that way, you know; “ Please, Mr. Tiger, don't eat me up.” - It is true that children of an older development in school imitate, too, in this same way; and I want, if you will let me, to tell you a little instance which proved to my mind the absolute effect of imitation. A little while ago I was in a school in Providence, where the supervisor allowed the children to recite something for me, something they had learned as a whole, just to teach them mass reciting. It was a bit of Hiawatha It always is Hiawatha, you know, in the little ones? 3o - THE SCHOOL REVIEW Schools; they always recite that. I got so tired of Hiawatha the last two months; I have heard it every day nearly. Well, it was that part which begins: Ey the shore of Gitche Gumee, By the shining Big-Sea-Water. These little bits of children were largely foreign Jews. A good many of the children of Providence are immigrants, and this particular room was full of them; but they recited with a beautiful, even, upward swing, almost like the chant of some foreign nation, and with perfectly exquisite enunciation, right straight through that whole stànza. I was absolutely astounded, because I have heard a great many children recite, and I am very much used to the swing and the jump that they give. I did not say much about it; I just waited to see what would happen. By and by I happened to drop into that school while the teacher was giving a new recitation of that sort, and then I understood immediately. She had a beautiful, deep, low voice, which came out with a smooth rolling kind of cadence, and she had beautiful diction, and she understood how to say poetry. She did not say it as if it were a succession of leaps, you know, but she said it as if it were a Song which went on. • w Then just a little afterward I was in Chicago. I went to a model school, where I was told that they were having some dramatization down-stairs, and it would be a good thing for me to see. They had a peculiar kind of dramatiza- tion there. One of the children stood and recited, and the other children acted out the thing as he recited. It was after the old idea of the pantomime, with an accompaniment. In. this particular School they were, strangely enough, dramatizing Hiawatha. You would not think it possible, but they were. One little boy stood up, and he gave the recitation part. I must give you this. It was about Hiawatha. The little boy said: But the fearless Hiawatha Heeded not her woman's warning; Porth he strode into the forest, At each stride a mile he measured; Lu— lu— The teacher Said ** lurid.?? Lurid seemed the sky above him. He went on like that. I thought: “Why is that child so bad? Why should children say it like that?” Presently he forgot something, and the teacher Said, “Never mind, we have not much time anyway, I will say it,'' and she said it in exactly the same way. She said: “Thén the líttle Hiawátha.” She read it just like that; and then I knew, of course, that was her way of expressing things. Presently she did something which showed the whole situation to me clearly. She wanted`somebody to be a rabbit and sit upon his haunches. They were all doing those things. And she said, in a tired, nasal kind of voice: “Which one of you can set up on their haunches?” I should not have believed it, if I had not heard it. Of course, right there one slips into the very stern necessity, which TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC A N D I N COMPOSITIO NT 3I has just been spoken of, of teaching the children the laws of English. If that woman, of course, had known the laws of English, she would not have said “set” and she would not have said: “Which one can set up on their haunches.” But the fact was that she was teaching them unconsciously, not so much by law as by what she said. ' It seems to me that imitation is one of the very best ways in which a small child can learn the beauty of the English language, but it presupposes that the teacher must have the beauty of the English language at control, and that is a pretty hard question to face. There is no one of us, I think, who does not feel conscious that he does not know all that he might about the beauty of the English language. In the first place, of course, we have to know its grammar. In the second place, of course, we have to know how to express ourselves with freedom and choice of words, and with a certain malleability of sentence and paragraph structure; but, more than that, we. have to know what it sounds like when it is spoken. If we chop off the ends of our words, if we talk through our noses, if we pronounce our vowels without any fulness and resonance of sound, if our sentences are all mixed up together, it is not English, and no pupil will ever learn English from us. •. - : If the English language were valuable only for the expression of the com- monest thoughts, if you merely wanted to say, “How much does that cost?” “It costs so much,” “I will take it;” or if you wanted to say, “Do you wish to come to dinner with me today?” and a person said “Yes,” then it would not matter so much how we speak. But since our speech is one of the beauties, the finenesses of our civilization, it seems to me that it does matter how we say it, just as much as it matters whether we wash our faces three or four times a day or not. It is one of the finenesses, the beauties of living; and so I just cling to my feeling that it matters whether we speak good English or not. Now, suppose you are a cultured person, and you do speak with a good voice, and with a nice kind of pronunciation, and with a good inflection; then every time that you have a chance to speak for a given length of time before a pupil in such a way that he is very much interested, I think you give him a chance to absorb the English language. • I don't believe in talking pupils to death, and I fully agree with Mr. Clapp about the possibility of overdoing it; but On this accasion I am just trying to give you the value of that one thing in its right proportion. Of all kinds of talking that you can use to children, I suppose there is no kind which so absolutely takes them out of their conscious attitude of learning as telling a story. That is one reason why I believe so much in story-telling. Everything a child learns in hearing a story he learns in the beautiful way that he does when he plays; he does not know he learns it, and so he gets it for keeps. If a child listens to a good story, it is ten to one that he will remember it almost word by word; and I don't object to that. I should object to that, if that were all he were to get in school „ife; but I don't object to it. For one thing, he learns your good words, he earns your good inflections, he imitates you. Yes, it is perfectly true, he does 32 THE SCHOOL REVIEVV imitate. There are ever so many other times in the schoolroom when you can give him original work; but just for that one little while you let him imitate, happily, all that he imitates of you. Then he imitates with a freedom and a spontaneity which he won't get anywhere except in the story. I fancy I am taking more tham my time; am I not? I don't know whether I was expected to talk to you about story-telling; it would take too much time to do that. My idea was that perhaps I was asked to tell you some few ways in which story-telling applies to Oral English. You see my general idea, whether you agree with it or not, don't you ? One or two of the specific ways in which you can use story-telling, then, are the retelling and the dramatization ways. The retelling means largely that you tell a child, perhaps, a story a day, without telling him which one you are going to pick out for retelling, and then at the end of the week you have a story day, and you let the children, of their own choice usually, pick out some story they liked, and you let anybody who volunteers tell the story back to you again. You don't correct him; but if anybody else wants to correct him On a fact, or a color, or anything of that kind, you let that happen. Then usually One story is given to the person who, in the judgment of the class, tells it best; so everybody has a pet story finally. But everybody is kept telling all kinds of stories once a week right straight through the year. You will always find that the pupil imitates his teacher. You can always tell, whatever room you go into, just exactly what kind of a teacher he has. It is perfectly funny to hear children sometimes speak with a brogue; even little Jewish children sometimes tell you stories with a brogue. They won't do it with the ordinary answers, because those are not spontaneous, but they will sometimes do it with a story. O, Course, that is an argument against the story-telling as a feature when the teacher is not good, but it is an argument for story-telling if the teacher is good. The imitation I admit quite frankly, because I believe in it from this point of view. The dramatization is a little different. That occupies all the children at once, and it is really just a means of setting free their natural self-expression. It helps children to get over their self-consciousness, and helps them to get over that stiff schoolroom atmosphere they so often have. It usually means simply that they are allowed to play some story, and very often they are all allowed to play at once, so that everybody is either a silent partner in the game or a speaking partner. The Hiawatha dramatization was so funny that I must tell you a word about it. I did not approve of the Hiawatha dramatization, because the pupils dramatized everything that existed, whether it just stood still or not. Three of the children were the deep sea water. I never shall forget it. Here “the deep sea water beats upon the shore,” and when they got to “beats upon the shore,” the children who were the deep sea water were so interested in the story that they forgot to beat; the teacher turned around, and she said, “Beat upon the shore,” and they beat upon the shore. That does not seem very valuable. The sort of thing that is valuable is a real acting out of the characters in the story which can be acted out. The best place that I have ever seen for that sort of work was Providence. ' The teachers in Providence have done a great deal of work in that TEXTBOOKS IN RHETORIC AND IN COMPOSITION 33 direction; and if any of you ever have a chance to visit Providence, if you have not seen those schools, I think you will get a good deal of light on the subject, because they have pursued it year in and year out with great vigor. Thei children take an ordinary little story and invent their own play from it. Now, just one word more, and then I will keep still. The idea of dramatiza- tion first appealed to me years ago, when I was entertaining children as a part of my business. I used to tell the story of the Pied Piper a great many times. The children always liked that story, At last one year I was hard put to it once at a Sunday-school party for Something to occupy the children. After I had finished, they ordinarily had games, and so on, for the children; but this time they had generously assumed that I should occupy the whole evening; So I found myself occupying the whole evening. It occurred to me that the children might play the Pied Piper; so I said: “Would you like to play the Pied Piper?” They shrieked “Yes” at once. I said: “What shall we do?” Three at once came out and said: “Let me be the Pied Piper.” Well, after that it moved on smoothly enough. The children picked out what they wanted, and then I picked out the rats by calling off one óf those funny little counting things you play hide- and-go-seek with. The rats and the children were picked out, the Pied Piper and the mayor of the town were picked out, and then we decided where the town hall should be. The Pied Piper came out and piped his little tune, and the rats came from every direction. The children did it in the most charming way. Of course, there was no hint of direction, there was nothing at all except a spon- taneous playing of the game. That story was impressed in all its parts on the minds of those children as I have never known another story to be. I knew it because I visited one of the homes, where one of the sets of children lived, just afterward, and I heard nothing but Pied Piper the rest of the time. It was not that it was a valuable educational feature in any deep sense; it was simply one of those things that help a child to get power of expression, natural power of expression, and freedom. * Now, it may be that what I have been saying sounds very fatuous, but perhaps it will leave at least a little suggestion in your minds, if you will just remember that what I am driving at is that English is a spoken language, and that imitation is a helpful feature of teaching, and that story-telling is a helpful kind of imita' tion. MR. CLAPP: I beg to indorse what the lady. has just said. . I do so heartily- I think it is a fine thing, taking advantage of the imitative faculty. I think, when I call your attention to the way in which children play school, you will understand that children learn a great deal by the imitative faculty. They bring out all the school paraphernalia, as far as they can, in their teaching; and some- times they bring out that part which we usually keep in the closet. 3. Ο [Preprinted from the ScHooL REvrEw, Vol. XV, Nos. 5 and 6, May and June, I9o7, and distributed to members of the New England Association of Teachers of English as a regular leaflet.] READING AND WRITING IN THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH 1 HENRY VAN DYKE Princeton University I am very glad to be the guest of the New England Associa- tion of English Teachers, and to find myself here. I choose this last phrase, because it indicates my state of mind after some perambulation on the streets of Boston in this part of the city. A German greeting would be appropriate to a stranger who attempts that task: Wie befindem Sie sich? And I know that, recognizing the conditions under which I have come to you, you will pardon my being a little behind the hour. In fact, my tardiness is a guarantee of good faith. You will pardon me also for coming to you without any preparation. I tried to make some prepara- tion this morning out in the preacher's room at Harvard, but the boys whom I am here to serve kept me so busy that I had no time except to begin to write down half a sentence. The object of the teaching of English in schools and colleges is not to make authors. In the first place, you could not do it if you would; and, in the second place, you should not do it if you could. No school or college can make an author. That is a matter which is in the hands of nature, under the direction of * A stenographic report of an extempore address to the New England Asso- ciation of Teachers of English at their annual meeting at Boston University, March 9, 1 9o7. It has been impossible to give Dr. van Dyke an opportunity to revise this report. 325 326 THE SCHOOL REVIEW what Mrs. Partington Once called “an unwise and unscrupulous Providence.'' There is some subtle balance of mental and emo- tional powers, some secret gift Of insight or of outgo, some skill in feeling the relations of words to things, that can never be defined or reduced to rules, which makes a man or a woman an author—the possession of something to say, and the skill of knowing how to say it. Nor, if it were pOssible for schools and colleges to make authors, would it be desirable that all the boys and girls who go to our educational institutions should be directed into writing as a means of earning their livelihood. In the first place, the world would not support them; in the second place, the flood of books with which our intellectual integrity is somewhat threatened would be increased vastly, horribly; and, in the third place, the magazine editors would be driven either into an early grave or into a sanitarium. No, the object of the teaching of English in schools and colleges is something very much simpler. In its primary stages, Of which I shall speak mainly this morning, the object of the teaching of English is to equip boys and girls to read good books more intelligently and more joyfully, and to use their mother-tongue correctly and to better purpose in the ordi- nary affairs of life. Now, about the reading which is to be done in connection with this kind of English teaching. It should, in my opinion, consist of interesting books—I try to weigh every phrase—inter- esting books, suited to the age of the pupils, well written, and with a healthy human tone. I have been reading the leaflets, two or three of them, published by this association in connection with this subject, and I can Only say that there has been so much said and so well said in those leaflets that there is really hardly any- thing left for me to say. Books of adventure, books of descrip- tion, books which tell a simple story clearly and vividly, are those which are naturally most suited to young people. Nothing better than Robinson Crusoe, and the Jungle Books, and Treasure Island; and, as far as my experience goes, the right kind of girls like those books justas much as the right kind of boys do. Intro- spective books, analytic books, philosophic books, and especially highly pessimistic books, are unsuited for the consumption of THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH 327 the young person whom we wish to keep in good intellectual and spiritual health. Those books may have their uses in the world, but, like caviar and paté de fois gras, they should be postponed to a later age, if they are used at all. For this reason I would not start my young people on Ibsen, nor on Bernard Shaw, nor on the modern British female novelist. The way in which these books should be read in the primary stages of English instruction, it seems to me, is somewhat different from the way in which they should be read later. • I note one very interesting paper among the leaflets published by this association, in which attention is called to the cOmplaint made that, Owing to the fact that Shakespeare is taken up in the high school and even in the grammar school, there is nothing left for the university professor to do. Well, all I have to say is that the university professor who finds nothing left for him tO do has mistaken his vocation. But the study of a play of Shakespeare, say Othello, or Hamlet, or The Winter's Tale, or Twelfth Night, or Julius Caesar, in a preparatory school or in a high SchOOl which does not lOOk toward college training, is quite different from the study of the same thing in a university course, and should be very much simpler, very much more direct, and guided chiefly with an eye to making the young people feel the fidelity of the thing studied, and get a clearly outlined picture before the mind-a, better picture than the modern stage can give, much better—of that which the great master of dramatic poetry intended to show in that particular play. Comparative literature ought not to be taught to school chil- dren. They cannot take it in, and you simply ruin their little digestions if you try to give it to them. Positive literature can be taught to them, literature as the reflection and image of life; and, in order to do that successfully, the teacher's attention, it seems to me, should be directed, first, to the story; second, to the elemental and creative trait in each character; third, to the rela- tion of the action to the development of those characters; and, fourth, to the lesson which the work teaches. Now, that is all as simple as telling a child with whom you walk along the street, and who sees a man that has staggered and reeled blindly . 328 THE SCHOOL REVIEW across the street and been run Over on his way across, why that thing has happened to that man. Let me say, and let me say frankly and sincerely and hon- estly, that in regard to the best literature, the big literature, the great literature, the literature that is worth while, the literature that has lasted, and the literature that is going to last, you can never teach it rightly if you shut your eyes to the moral meaning of it. You cannot do it, because the moral meaning of it is the core of it, and the heart of it; and nine times out of ten the moral meaning of it is the thing for which the man wrote it. I do not mean as a catechist or as a preacher, but I meam as an artist in letters, seeking to embody in his poem, or his play, or his novel, or his short story, the eternal significance and the inevit- able consequences of character and choice in this life of man. You know a great deal more about the technical details of the way to bring Out these things in the minds of the pupil—the structure of the story, the relation of the different parts, and so On—than I do, because I am a very young teacher. I have been a teacher for Only eight years now. That is all the experience I. have had. And the first thing I found out when I tried to do it was that teaching and preaching were two totally different things; because in the church where I used to preach, and where I still preach, and of which I am still a minister, where I preach every Sunday that I can get a chance to, in that church they do not allow anybody to answer back. In some of the churches they do, you know. But in the class, in the properly constructed class, of course everybody is allowed to answer back; and that changes the whole aspect, makes it very much more difficult, and in some respects very much more interesting. In regard to poetry, I would begin with the teaching of English poetry, begin with the simplest things, and begin with the things that have a story only ; and I would believe that those things which have interested SO many people are good, no matter what the academic and anaemic critics may say about them. I think Scott's Lady of the Lake and Lay of the Last Minstrel are good; and I think that the English ballads are good; and I think that Longfellow's ballads and Whittier's ballads are good; THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH 329 and I think that The Vision of Sir Launfal is good—nothing better. I find that those are good things to begin with. Then a little beyond that I would have a range of poems such as Tenny- son's Idyls of the King, and some of Browning's simpler dra- matic lyrics—the simpler ones, because I would not discourage a youthful student from the future enjoyment of Browning by endeavoring to begin it toO young. Then, of course, I would use the lyric. Having begum with the narrative form, I would use the pure lyric also. The first poem that my little children ever learned, when they were from four to seven years old, was: My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life begam, So is it now I am a man, So shall it be when I am old Or let me die. The Child is father of the Man : And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety. I wonder whether you have ever fully appreciated the beauty of those last lines. It was my little boy who first brought it out to me. He was five then. He used to say it: “The child is farther than the man.'' I never corrected him. And there is an exquisite beauty in that last word: And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety. That does not mean simply by religious feelings. “Piety” is the old Roman word for reverence for one's parents, and Words- worth, having said “The child is father of the man,” says And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety; that is, that I, a man, might reverence that which is the father of my spiritual being in the purity and joyfulness of childhood. That is what poetry can do for us. That is what poetry can say to us. That is the magic of poetry, by which it inter- prets those deeper, finer, nobler, purer, inward elements Of our life which fools call unreal, but which are, after all, the only real things and the things that make life worth living. 33o THE SCHOOL REVIEW Now, I must not talk too long ; but a word about writing. Let me begin with a negative statement. I do not approve of the daily theme. It seems to me absolutely abnormal, unnatural, superfluous, and injurious. I know of no position in life in which one has to produce a daily theme, except that of the news- paper service, and that requires a particular and definite training which the newspaper men themselves will tell you schools and colleges cannot give. The ordinary or garden variety of the human being never has to produce a daily theme, except during that brief period when he or she is in the first glory of an engage- ment to be married, and then, if those two persons are so unfor- tunate as to be separated, it becomes necessary for each of them to produce a daily theme. But, my dear fellow-teachers, you need not worry yourselves about that, you can leave that to nature. Nature will take care of it. No, I think it is far more natura1 and far more simple and far more profitable to have perhaps a weekly theme, or perhaps a fortnightly theme, or some- thing of that kind—and I will tell you, I will just give you my own experience in regard to it in dealing with perhaps a some- what older class of students. I find it best to ask them not to take a long time in writing that theme, but to think about it, carry it in their mind, and then sit down, take an hour or half-hour, and write it as well as they can and 1et it go at that; with the idea that they shal1 get from the writing, and from such criticism as I may be able to give it, some encouragement to write better or some correction of their natural faults. That seems to me the best way. • And as for the subjects, al1 subjects are good, provided you will persuade your pupils to write about them naturally and spon- taneously and frankly. You may take a subject which requires the pupil to go to the encyclopedia in order to find out the facts, but not to carry the paper and penci1 to the encyclopedia. Get what you can from the encyclopedia and take it in. Then go away somewhere where there is no encyclopedia, into a happy land where the encyclopedia existeth not, sit down and put your thoughts and notions and ideas and memories and your knowl- edge and your feeling, whateverit may be, upon paper. I found THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH 33I a very good way this winter was to ask men to read a poem, orto read it to them. (Let me say here, in passing, since you are allowing me to jump Over the fence and go just where I please this afternoon, that all good poetry is meant to be read aloud. Any poem that is written is written to be read out loud or repeated or recited. That is the origin of it, and that is the idea of it; and until you have heard it, you do not know it, if it is a good poem. Of course, that is not true of Some poems. But meter being an essential element of poetry—there is another subject, you see there is a big wide gate open there, and I might go out through that gate into a tremendous field—but meter being an essential element of poetry, you never get the full effect of it unti1 it is read aloud.) As I said, I would read a poem aloud to these fellows that were working with me, and then ask them to sit down some evening when they had not the poem by them and write me a description of it, anywhere from five hun- dred to a thousand words. And by description I meam telling first of all what kind of a poem it is, what order it belongs to— this is for Older students—then what meter it is written in, then what the subject is and where the subject came from, and them whether they like it or not, and why. Well, you would be astonished to see how some of those fellows succeed in digesting that bony structure of a descriptive paper and making out of it a really charming little expression of their knowledge and feeling about such a poem as “Mazeppa,** or “Enoch Arden,'* or some- thing of that kind. … Then of course, beyond that, one goes on into the compara- tive criticism, the question of sources and methods, and the ques- tion of metrical variations, and all that sort of thing, which belongs to the university life and not to school life. You have got to leave something for that poor university professor. And then a great thing is that we should be able to get our pupils to understand the life and the power that there are in words—that words are living things, that they are not made, that they grow, and that they grow out of the heart and life of human beings ; 'that words have characters and expressions just as you have characters and your faces have expressions; that all, 332 THE SCHOOL, REVIEW or almost all, possible shades of delicate and subtle feeling in our experience can be expressed by words, if we will only learn to treat them as living things, and remember the life out of which they have come, and join them to the life which we desire them to express. Oh, it will be a great service to render to the young men and women of the coming generation if you shall enable them to understand that rich inheritance which is theirs in this glorious English language, the richest—not the sweetest, not the most exact, not the most perfect—but the richest, fullest, most powerful instrument of expression that the human race, I think, has yet developed. “With all its faults we love it still.” And if we don't love it, and if we don't love the great literature that has been produced in it, then, ladies and gentlemen, we have no business here. 3 ] THE COURSE OF STUDY IN ENGLISH. THE CALL FOR IT, THE CHARACTER OF IT, AND THE CON- STRUCTION OF IT 1 Five years ago another committee of this association pre- sented an exhaustive report upon courses of study.* Your pre- sent committee, with a view to ascertain the drift of change since that report, sent out a very humble and inoffensive questionnaire, as follows: Has your course in English undergone revision in the past five years, or is any change now contemplated? What is the motive and what the general scope of the change, (a) in elementary schoo1? (b) in high schoo1? What has been omitted or reduced? What has been added or emphasized ? What change has been made in the order in which subjects are taken up? Is greater or 1ess emphasis laid upon grammar? rhetoric? literature? writ- ten composition? oral expression? spelling? The fact that opportunity was given to answer for the grades and the high school separately seems to have caused some per- plexity, and to have prevented some from answering whose work was not precisely in either category. In general, however, the questions have been promptly and generously answered. No attempt has been made to tabulate the replies, nor would tabula- tion shed more light than can be focused in a brief statement. Indeed, the most striking features of the replies would not appear in a tabulation at all. Briefly, the replies show not a drift, but an eddy. Change is in the air, but motive seems not to have risen to consciousness, and changes of emphasis or of order move blithely to the step of * This report of the Standing Committee on Courses of Study (William D. Parkinson, superintendent of schools, Waltham, Mass.; Albert Perry Walker, Boston Normal School; Grace L. Deering, English High School, Cambridge, Mass.) was submitted at the annual meeting of the New England Association of Teachers of English, March 9, 1 9o7. * See School Review, Vol. XI (19o3), pp. 746-56. 333 334 THE SCHOOL REVIEW “Al1 hands 'round.” Grammar is pushed from grades to high school in One system, from high school to grades in another, con- fined to first year in some high schools, reviewed in fourth year in Others. Preparatory work has been deferred to the 1ast two years in one school, extended Over the four years in another. Emphasis is more on grammar and composition and less on literature in one school, vice versa in another. Reading at home is omitted here, the number of books read outside of school is increased there; all for the betterment of the programme. If any general tendency appears, it is toward reduced stress upon formal rhetoric and increased stress upon everything else named in our list. This increased emphasis al1 along the line seems to be made possible in some high schools by increasing the number of periods per week assigned to English. It would be interest- ing to know whether Other subjects were correspondingly curtailed in any. The returns seem tO disclose an utter dislocation of the present from the past in a large proportion of the schools. It is made evident that, with very few exceptions, the high schools are without any course of study or syllabus by means of which teachers may know what has been done by previous teachers in the same position, or by preceding teachers of the same pupils, or even what is being done by Other teachers in the same school. The replies show that the individua1 teacher is a, law unto him- self, and that in many instances he has not been long in his present position. He does not know what change there has been because his predecessor is now married—and it is impossible to ascertain what she did; or his predecessor did not do much any- way, and he himself has not had time to undo it; or certain classes have been transferred to Other hands, and he isn't sure what their fate will be. As to what is being done in the grades, he refers you to the superintendent. Incidentally it appears that, in the absence of any course of study, teachers usually elevate the college requirements into the vacant place—a place for which those requirements were never designed and never adapted. Here and there the avowed motive of a change is to secure freedom from the bondage of college THE COURSE OF STUDY IN ENGLISH 335 requirements, but more often it is to reach a better adjustment to those requirements. Evidently, were it not for the influence, whether attractive or repulsive, of the college requirements, the high-school teacher of English would be generally without moor- ings. Most grammar schools have some sort of syllabus or out- line; and if any have nOt, there is usually a considerable number of teachers in each grade who compare notes, and this mutual understanding constitutes a cohesive force which prevents extreme vagaries. The high-school teacher, however, has no blazed trail. He may have a so-called course which designates the number of recitation periods per week devoted to English, but he is left tO plot the real course himself. Small wonder that the college examination becomes his One landmark, and that he circles about it like the wanderer who has lost all bearings. He needs a syllabus even more than the grammar teacher. In all but the very large cities he is isolated from other teachers doing paralle1 work, and from grades above and below. Nor have the college-bred teachers undergone a training approximately synoptic, as have teachers normal-trained. Each teaches as he was taught, at least until experience and observa- tion have taught him anew. However original and fertile he may be, he needs some kind of road-book to guard against omis- sions, wasteful repetitions, disproportionate emphasis, to insure continuity, co-operation, a common and definite aim, among all the many workers who first and last are intrusted with the fortunes of the same pupil. In the absence of one made for him, he must make one for himself, and he needs as much aid from the experience of Others as can be placed at his disposal. In speaking of the course of study, we sometimes have in mind the process through which the pupil is to go under the guidance of the school, or the process through which, under conditions more idea1 than the school affords, we would have him go. From the practical standpoint, however, we are concerned rather with the means by which the pupil's course is to be shaped than with the course itself. I. Our present inquiry, therefore, has to do with that pro- gramme, outline, or code of instruction, which is placed in the 336 THE SCHOOL REVIEW teacher's hands as a navigator's chart to give him his bearings, and to both aid and induce him to take his students over a safe and direct course to a chosen destination. - The teacher, then, should regard the course, not as a boun- dary fence Or a railway track, but rather as a series of way- marks indicating points Of departure, points of destination, points of danger, set up, not to resist or obstruct individual initiative, but tO direct it along right lines and to check centrifugal tenden- cies. - Such a chart the teacher should not only desire, but should demand. He should be familiar, not only with the portion that relates to his own sections of the roadway, but with what pre- cedes and follows—with the whole from beginning to end. He should make it his business to understand its purport; and, if anything in it seems to him inconsistent or inexplicable, he should follow it to its Source for explanation or amendment. He should obey the spirit of it, and knowledge of its spirit should free him from bondage to its letter. His attitude toward it should be, not that of a mere operative, working out a stereotyped pattern in exact and painstaking detail, but that of a professional worker who is tO be familiar with his commission and in sympathy with its ideals, is to interpret it in the light of actual conditions, and to exercise discrimination and skill in suiting means to its ends. 2. The course in English, more than any other course, may and should be one, consecutive, coherent, consistent throughout the pupil's public-school career, keeping always in view the same ultimate aim. This is common-sense. No thoughtful person would regard the curriculum as a series of canal locks in which activity is to be confined to a certain annual opening of the sluices called pro- motion, and in which continuity exists at no other time. Yet we find it sometimes dealt with upon that plane. If the course is to keep the distant aim in view at every stage, both elementary and secondary experience should enter into its making, and it should be made by an authority in which the teachers, both elementary and secondary, have confidence. Its THE COURSE OF STUDY IN ENGLISH 337 promulgation by an individual or by a volunteer committee will not carry far. Certainly it is tOO large a task for any committee constituted as this one is, or to be effectively presented in a report of this kind. It seems necessary that it be prepared by a body large enough to include many schools, in Order that it may be put in permanent form and be widely distributed; but its form should not be too permanent, since frequent revision will always be necessary. Boston is preparing a new syllabus of which the elementary portion is already in the printer's hands, and the secOndary portion is in prospect. In Connecticut the Counci1 of Education has essayed the task and its syllabus is an important contribution to the cause. In New York the state department of education issues such a sylla- bus. The elementary portion of it bears marks of secOndary- school authorship, but the secOndary portion is comparatively simple and practical. If Some dignified body in each of our New England states could be enlisted, their several independent studies would promise results. It is better for such a course of study to rest upon authority in the professional sense Only, and not at all in the official sense. Even in New York, where this principle is not always observed, the syllabus is suggestive only, and is designed to be adapted and elaborated to suit the needs of such schools as may accept it. 3. What is the ultimate aim which such a course in English should hold before the teachers of every grade or year? Simply stated, it is to teach the pupil to read and write. So naked a statement must, tO be sure, be clothed with large mean- ing, but it is better to have a watchword whose meaning unfolds as we approach our destination, than one whose meaning must be defined anew at each turn of the way. The secondary course, like the primary course, needs to state its aim simply. But it must still set its mark high. Interchange of thought and feeling, intercourse of mind with mind-—what is there of human life that is not comprised in this? To read appreciatively, to write effec- tively, means no less. It may be said that to listen and to speak are of first importance; but the man who can read—can he fail of ability to listen? And the man who can write—can he not 338 THE SCHOOL REVIEW speak? The less are included in the greater. To 1isten and to speak are of time. Theirs is the fleeting moment. To read and to write are of the infinite. They put man into companionship with the immortals. They are capable of boundless develop- ment; and our business with the pupil is to start him On through lines. Perchance he shall write the thing which he hath seen, the things which are, and the things which shall be hereafter. And who is able to open the ultimate book and to loose the seals thereOf? - Our aim must be simple enough for all to see; but the higher the meaning you may read into it, the larger the vision you may Open to the student as he fares toward the goal, the better. Grammar as a science, composition as an art, rhetoric as an accomplishment, literature as a cult—these have no place in the common-school curriculum. Until our conception of what it is to read and write has risen far enough so that these studies fall into line as subOrdinates, as a means to our end, we might better exclude the terms from our pharmacopoeia. Whatever of theit elements make for more effective writing, for more appreciative reading, we may avail ourselves of; but we should avoid the use of terms which suggest subjects imposing in themselves, and which are likely to present themselves to teachers as destinations instead of way-marks. Even the college requirements recognize this principle, and, throwing aside all ponderous phrases, declare that the essential thing is to write good English. To be sure, the examination questions leer at you from behind the curtain and tip a sardonic wink, but there are signs of amendment even here. 4. To read and write being the goal toward which the teacher is to usher the pupil, the teacher's chart of direction should prescribe certain essential lessons tO be taught and certain exercises to be given at particular stages. What is everybody's business is nobody's business. There are symbols whose proper use is absolutely essential to reading and writing; there are forms of expression which pass current everywhere. They must be learned and practiced. These are not few in the aggregate, but they should be few at any one stage. They cannot be learned al1 at once; Some necessarily precede others; some are THE cοURSE OF STUDY IN ENGLISH 339 meaningless to young children, and others will never be learned if not learned early. But they are not so definitely marked as to sequence or adaptation that even the most thoughtful teachers can be sure in which particular year they belong, or can safely apportion each to himself his proper share of responsibility for them. Nor, as intimated before, can these lessons be grouped under certain heads or classed together under subjects, and assigned —Orthography, grammar, cOmpOsition, rhetoric, literature—each to a certain grade. A11 these in their elements enter into every grade, but none of them belong as subjects in any. Thus, spelling must begin in first grade, syllabication comes later, pre- fixes and suffixes sti11 later, and certain rules for the adjustment of terminal appendâges will stil1 sound like mystic incantations to students well on the way to college. Here we pause to say that the committee is unanimous in approval of simplified spelling. We are not of those who were hypnotized by the President's order, but neither are we of those who were stampeded by act of Congress. The public printer seems to be- the final arbiter of that Lilliputian battle, and we leave the issue to him. But common-sense and the typewriter are eliminating useless letters and we believe that schools should cease to insist upon spellings which are fast becoming obsolete in correspondence, and which will certainly be obsolete in good usage by the time our pupils reach mature years. But to return from this digression: As is spelling, so is punctuation—not a bolus to be swallowed, but a regimen to be pursued. The period and question mark are met in first grade, the comma in address a little later, comma in series later; while the colon and semi-colon can hardly become implements for the student's own use in writing much before second year in high school, although their significance must begin to be weighed much earlier, in his reading. We speak of technical grammar as belonging to certain grades, and we dispute prodigiously as to what grades. Tech- nical grammar belongs in al1 grades. It is only theoretical grammar that should be excluded from any grade, and all grades. 34o THE SCHOOL REVIEW One of the first difficulties of the little child in reading has to do with pronoun and antecedent. Those names he need not learn, but the teacher who does not see to it that the child recognizes what persons Or things the pronouns stand for, is neglecting a principle of grammar which is technical in the sense of having direct application to the practice of interpretation upon which the child is engaged. On the other hand, the distinctions of mode and the sequence of tenses belong late in the high-school course; Other grammatical principles lie along the way between, and still Others should await the college and the university. The New York syllabus makes grammar-study conspicuous from the seventh to the twelfth year. ' In the same way, rhetoric in its elements has a place at almost every stage. Practice in narration begins very early. Reasons pro and con interest boys and girls of twelve. Figures of speech ought to be made vivid long before they can be classified or named. How are we to avoid chance omissions and vain repeti- tions unless such lessons are specifically assigned and the assign- ment is made effective? In addition to the class of lessons thus indicated, there are certain more general lessons which may well be assigned with equal definiteness. There is a time for story-telling, for dril1- reading, for declamation, for letter-writing, for teaching to use the index and dictionary, for teaching to use the public library, for introduction to the theater. Into this category comes the college reading. Them, too, the pupil Ought each year to make a friendly acquaintance with at least one or two authors, and it is well that some thought be given to the order in which they shall be approached. A11 these are proper lessons for special assign- ment. Enough has been said to illustrate (but only to illustrate) the point that a degree of definite assignment is needed, and that it should be, not by high-sounding and widely inclusive title, but in simple terms indicating single steps. In the main, the lessons to be positively prescribed are points of beginning, and those to be designated in the suggestive way are such as keep THE COURSE OF STUDY IN ENGLISH 34I alive and in effect that to which the student has already been initiated. 5. This supplementary designation should not go so far as to limit the teacher's freedom or to take away from him responsi- bility for the exercise of originality, inventiveness, initiative. The course of study should encourage this exercise, and for this purpose it should set before the teacher another. and larger class of lessons collateral, supplementary, illustrative, suggestive— such a repertory as a good teacher of exceptionally systematic habits will himself accumulate as years go by, to be used as he would use his own and to serve as a nucleus around which to form his own, reminding him of interests which else had eluded him, beckoning him to heights which he might not have attempted. 6. The course of study may set before the teacher more or less definitely the standards by which the pupil's success is to be measured at the several stages of advancement. This does not mean that it shall lay down a marking system, a scale of per- centages, or a table of pedagogical logarithms. But it may by precept and example enforce the principle that in the measure- ment of the pupil's writing the gauge is to be applied, not to his display English, but to the English he uses when attention is not primarily upon its form. It will help to set the right aim before the pupils, if merit is reckoned, not upon what they can tell about English in an examination, but at least in part upon how they apply it in their written work in other studies. Since such a basis of measurement is severe, it will become necessary for the teacher to reduce the severity of his criticism more nearly to the standard to which he can hope to hold his pupils, and indeed to the standard to which he holds himself. For we are al1 aware that when teachers of English, interchange memoranda or letters, but few of the papers passed would escape the blue pencil if presented by students. Students can be held more rigorously to reasonable standards than they can to drastic standards. One great trouble with the standards both in the schools and in the colleges is that they are set higher than they 342 THE SCHOOL REVIEW can be maintained, and so have to be lowered in practice; and standards Once lowered no longer serve the purpose of standards. The measurement of the pupil's success in reading is properly based in part upon his interpretation of what he has read, as shown both by the expressiveness of his oral reading and by his answers tO questions upon his reading. It should be in part, too, upon the keenness with which he interprets the questions them- selves. Even such questions as are used in the college examina- tions may be useful, if it be understood that success is not to be measured by the approach pupils make to the answer the exami- ner himself has in mind, or by the extent of his resources for answering, but by the aptness with which he employs his limited resources in meeting the unexpected situation. The difficulty with setting standards is that the finer qualities of reading and writing—literary flavor, appreciativeness of senti- ment and humor and fancy, “the daily theme eye,” as the con- tributors' club puts it—these are too subtle to be measured and too rare to be set up as requirements. They can be apprehended Only by a sympathy quick and generous, and to attempt to set up tests and standards, employing the terminology of the pro- fessional critic, is to pull up the plant to see if it is growing. But while literary taste is not to be acquired by analysis of literature, and may even be blighted by it, analysis is essential to literary power. To cultivate literary appreciation and neglect analysis is like neglecting technique in the study of music. The course of study must provide for analytical and exacting study of good models. It must provide for this purpose selections which are not included in the range of literature within which the pupi1 is expected to find friends and companions. Necessary as dissec- tion is, we do not employ it upon the bodies of our friends. Standards of measurement and ideals are two different things. The 1atter cannot be too high. The former easily may. This fact is sometimes lost sight of, and the two are confused. 7. The course of study must be to some degree suggestive of method. To go into the discussion of methods would encumber it and tend to prevent its becoming really familiar to the teacher. It should not formulate methods, but it ought by its own grada- THE COURSE OF STUDY IN ENGLISH 343 tion to influence toward inductive methods, to exemplify certain fundamental principles of development, and to discriminate between those earlier activities by which impressions are derived and those later Ones which involve reflection; between those earlier lessons which widen the pupil's command Over vocabu- lary, idiom, phrase, Or varied construction, as means of inter- pretation, and that later development by which those same instruments are subdued to his use in speaking and writing. 8. The course of study should point the teacher to available resources. Lists of reference books, of books for outside reading, of selections for memorizing, of selections to be read by pupils, of stories to be told, brief lists of words to be added to the vocabu- lary, lists of suggestive topics or devices for stimulating pupils to write—all these have a proper place in, or in immediate con- nection with, the course of study. If they are well made, they are not only convenient, but stimulating, and they set a standard of literary quality below which the teacher will not allow him- self to fall. They may be arranged roughly by years, and, like suggestive and illustrative lessons, they are to be regarded as summoning the teacher to use them, unless he finds something better. - 9. The allotment of time to English as compared with the whole time-schedule, and the apportionment of the English time to the several phases of English work, is another essential feature of the course of study. In general it may be said that the whole number of recitation periods assigned to each pupil in high schools is too large. The colleges discourage their own students from taking any such number of periods per week as their requirements force upon those in the last two years of high school. But it ought to be said that the schools themselves err in assuming that additional periods of recitation will strengthen the work in any particular when the aggregate number is already large enough. One is reminded of the steam-boat with a whistle so large that the engine had to stop to get tip steam enough to sound it. Beyond a certain ratio of recitation time to study time the recitation time is increased only at the sacrifice of study time. This, however, is aside from our present theme. 344 THE SCHOOL REVIEW The proportionate share of time set apart for English indi- cates also its proportionate share of emphasis, although the fact that English enters in such varying degrees into other studies obscures the real ratio. In general it will be found that from one-third to one-fifth of the time of pupils is devoted to English throughout their school career, the ratio being the larger at the earlier end and diminishing later. . No time allotment should be upon hard and fast 1ines. The varying aptitudes of classes, and of teachers as well, forbid such rigidity. But this very variety of propensities and needs makes it exceedingly important that some normal be laid down to restrain too wide departures. Within the field of English itself, too, it is desirable that some guide be had as to the pro- portion of attention to be given to practice in reading, to practice in writing—both in their larger sense—and to instruction in the mechanism and means of expressiofi; but that a wide margin be left for those lessons whose purpose is inspiration rather than instruction or practice, and which may transcend all classifica- tions. So far as any division is indicated in the courses at hand, these three phases share about alike in both elementary and secondary school, except that in primary grades learning to read necessarily predominates. Whether in high school the pre- valence of the three-period-per-week allotment to English has something to do with this equilatera1 triangular division, or whether it is the result of deliberate judgment, may be a subject of discussion. In answer to our question as to what, in the process of recent change, has been omitted from his course of study, one teacher replies: “Talk about expression.” This answer seems to imply restiveness under the yoke of fashion. The question arises: Are we laying too much stress upon expression at the expense of impression? The outlet should not be 1arger than the inlet, and if we expect any force at the out- 1et we must make the inlet the larger. We do well to recall that the writing and speaking vocabulary, and the whole speaking and writing currency, must be coined out of the bullion first mined, assayed, and refined in interpreting the expression of others. The THE COURSE OF STUDY IN ENGLISH 345 attempt to force the process of expression up too near to the level at which impressions are received, or to force the speaking vocabulary and idiom too near to the listening vocabulary and idiom, may possibly limit the latter, and so limit both. To write even a business letter, one must reckon with what will be read between the lines. And One does not learn so to turn a phrase as to make it vibrant with meaning who has not first felt the vibra- tion of many phrases and learned himself to hear the overtones that ring between the lines of what he reads. The one power must follow and be derived from the Other, and must follow far in its wake. - ' - One lesson a week devoted to the presentation of written work, conference and instruction upon it, and revision of it, should insure better results than are usually obtained in a four- year course. However many more periods per week are allowed for English, they may profitably be devoted primarily to the interpretive side, with such written and oral practice as are inci- dent to it, which should be as free from the didactic element as may be. Our returns show increased attention to oral expression. Here again caution is needed. The average English division in high schools is probably not less than twenty-five. In such a class oral training for one means aura1 training for twenty- four. To require twenty-four minutes of listening to one of oral expression, even assuming that the teacher keeps silence—which is not always a safe assumption—is certainly reversing the danger last alluded to. But the listening training one gets while another is practicing orally is not usually the best exercise of attention. Permit another brief calculation. The twenty-five pupils seldom average over one hundred and fifty minutes per week in class throughout the high-school course. Supposing the teacher to maintain silence and all work to be devoted to oral expression, then each pupil will have six minutes a week for oral expression. Plainly, written expression and written testing of outside reading must largely predominate, if the school is to employ its time economically upon such a basis; and such oral training as can be given must be largely in the way of starting 346 THE SCHOOL REVIEW the pupil upon oral inquiries, conversational themes, oral read- ings, or declamatory practice or debate, which shall be conducted in large part outside Of schOOl. -* All that can be done along these collateral lines is clear gain. And the oral reading of impressive passages, as an indis- pensable means of gaining insight into literature, must have a place in the time allowance. But the limitations of oral expres- sion in class teaching must be recognized. Not only has written language the advantage in economy of time, but it affords oppor- tunity for that close scrutiny by which one may learn to weigh the full significance of what one reads, and to revise and intensify the significance of what he writes. IO. The course of study must take account of the psychology of the teacher as well as that of the pupil. It is not the course as. written in the syllabus, but the course as interpreted and admin- istered by the teacher, that counts. It must be constructed with due allowance for shrinkage and some for breakage. There are certain prevalent tendencies among teachers to be indulged or to be restrained. It is not necessary in this presence to elaborate upon them. We recognize them in ourselves, and we may with complacency confine our mention of them to those of which the best teachers are themselves conscious. There is the tendency to expect too much of the pupil, to overestimate his resources, to forget that he has not as a back- ground that great complex of convention and experience which is second nature with us. It is this tendency that requires the course of study to distribute elementary lessons over a longer period than teachers themselves are tempted to do, and to follow each with a longer season of simple practice. There is also the tendency to expect too little of the pupil, to underestimate his powers within the range of his resources, his keen intuition, his depth of feeling, his personal poise. It is for this reason that the course of study needs to suggest literary models of a quality above what the pupil can be expected to analyze, and topics of a variety wide enough to tempt his response, whatever his interests. There is a tendency to anticipate the work of a later stage. THE COURSE OF STUDY IN ENGLISH 347 The teacher with his class On the double quick, having sur- mounted the breastworks, is fired with ardor to invade and conquer the whole realm. And, even if he is compelled to fa11 back within his own lines, he still feels that the momentary triumph was Worth while; for the class has had a rea1 taste of battle and will strike harder next time. This tendency would contain its Own safety check if only the same teacher were to lead the class henceforward; for he would discover and weigh the effect upon future work. But in our wasteful bucket-brigade system of gradation, in which pupils change teachers annually or thereabouts, the course of study must hold the rein upon this tendency in so far as to keep one teacher from too far invading the province of the succeeding one. And it is extremely difficult tO do this effectively without also dampening the very ardor which counts for so much in lending genuine impetus to pupils. On the Other hand, the teacher of the grade above is in danger of attaching quite tOO much importance to having pupils at first hand in his subject. It might be convenient for the instructor if knowledge were parceled Off in original packages to be trans- ferred under sea1 to the cells of the braim, but the convenience of instructors seems not to have received first consideration in the original design. There are bound to be interlacings of subjects in every mind; and most minds must put forward a skirmish line, even if the new territory loses some of its freshness thereby before the main advance comes. A more conspicuous tendency, and one which in a measure counteracts the last, is the tendency to be tyrannized over by the teacher of the grade above. It may seem odd to state this tendency in the passive voice, but it is in that voice that it must be predicated. There is little conscious tyranny, but there is a sensitiveness amounting almost to superstition among teachers of all grades, which leads them to attach undue importance to what the teacher of the grade above may expect of the pupils, or may think, or worst of all may say. No little time is wasted in every school in preparing the pupils to answer questions which the next teacher may chance to ask. The tyranny of the college examination questions only illustrates this tendency. It is just 348 THE SCHOOL REVIEW as real in the grammar School and in the primary school, particu- larly, but by no means exclusively, where the grade above is in a separate building. Curiously, no teacher, however subject to it himself, ever seems able to understand why this feeling should exist in the grade below. This tendency is relieved to a degree when teachers are able to look to a course of study instead of to the next teacher; but in the main it is to be remedied by bring- ing the teachers together. - The last tendency to which reference will be made is the tendency to formalize; that is, to elevate a topic into a system, a branch into a department, an exercise into an art, each elapor- ated in detail, with complete classification and technical nomen- clature. It is a tendency of the best minds to pursue a subject to its outer confines, and in the complexity of interests it is with difficulty that any of us limit ourselves to the simple and the elementary. The textbook-makers skilfully foster this tendency. The enterprising youth who would learn to read and write must now carry in his satchel a grammar, a manual of composition, a rhetoric, a handbook of English literature, perhaps another of American literature, and a small library of annotated texts. Nor can he travel far from a dictionary. The volume of didactic print he must wade through forbids any extended reading of literature. Even the child who would write a, letter must have it pigeonholed in his mind under the heads of business, polite, or friendly (and what a dire calamity if their ingredients should get mixed!), then thread the labyrinth of date and address and salutation and body and conclusion and subscription. It is because of this tendency that the course of study should steadily enforce simplicity, employ simple terms, point to simple lessons, and, if it must introduce the pupil to the dialect of pedantry, do it as the Connecticut course does, presenting its technical terms, not as additional branches of study, but as accessions to the working vocabulary. The importance of simplicity cannot be overempha- sized—simplicity of terms, simplicity of lessons, simplicity of processes, simplicity of instrumentalities. The conclusion then is that a syllabus in English is needed; THE COURSE OF STUDY IN ENGLISH . 349 that it should be catholic enough to exercise a steadying and unifying influence Over a wide area; that it should be made con- secutive throughout the course, elementary and secondary; that it should lean always to the side of simplicity—simplicity of aim, of work, of treatment, of phraseology; and that this association should take steps toward its construction, not by a committee of its own body, but by some agency with resources for publication and circulation upon a large scale, sufficiently organized to carry on a thorough investigation, to discover and to command the co-operation of the best teachers of all grades, and while accord- ing due recognition to the views of all, to hold the scales between conflicting tendencies. <3^^ REPRINTED FROM THE SCHOOL REVIEW A JOURNAL OF SECONDARY EDUCATION §¤vi FEBRUARY, I qo8 §í is, WHAT THE COLLEGE HAS A RIGHT TO EXPECT OF THE SCHOOLS IN ENGLISH 1 W. A. NEILSON Professor of English, Harvard University I should like to begin by drawing your attention to the form in which the subject of my remarks is stated: “What the College Has a Right to Expect of the Schools in English;'' not, I am thankful to say, What the college expects of the schools. This I should never attempt to answer; first, because I have no authority from any college to interpret its mind on this point; second, because I doubt whether the colleges in general have any clearly realized expectation on the subject. But what the college has a right to expect we may all speculate about, and you and I may as freely utter ourselves On the question as any official or committee or faculty. It seems easiest to begin with two things which the college has no right to expect. First, it has no right to expect to dictate to the school its whole curriculum in English. I do not say that it has ever claimed a right to do this; but it would not be difficult to point to entrance requirements which imply some- thing very like it. But the claim is obviously unfair, for our secondary schools are not mainly or primarily fitting schools. It is but a small minority of their students who go to college, and it would be unwise to determine the English curriculum * Notes of an address given before The New England Association of Teachers of English, November I 6, I9o7. 73 74 THE SCHOOL REVIEW by the needs of the minority, unless it could be shown that prep- aration for college is also the best preparation for the student who goes to work at once. Second, it has no right"to dictate the method of teaching. It may, of course, advise, and expect its advice to be heard with respect. But only a small proportion of college teachers have had experience in schools, and they are as a whole not wise enough or experienced enough to be able to claim authority over the methods to be used in another branch of the profession. - -& Speaking in general on the positive side of our topic, one might say that what the colleges have a right to expect of the schools is that they should bring the pupils to a certain level of culture. Our task now is to define as precisely as may be what this leve1 of culture is. From the college point of view it implies the preparation of the student's mind in such a way as to render it receptive of the information and responsive to the training which the college has to give. This preparation itself involves both information and training, and on these points we must try to be specific. - The pupil should have been taught to speak. No part of the preparation is more important; no part is more commonly ignored or more imperfectly accomplished. Boys not only come to college but leave college, who have difficulty in constructing orally a sentence of any complexity or length, or conducting a conversa- tion without slang and with clear articulation. This is surely a matter for the schools, if the homes have not already done it. The colleges have a right to expect that a candidate for admis- sion should be able to speak with fair distinctness and accuracy Of pronunciation, to express his own ideas in grammatical sen- tences, and in language free from the jargon of the streets. The pupil should have been taught to read. By this is to be understood not merely the putting together of symbols and sounds, but the training of the mind to concentrate upon the sense of what is written, and to refuse to pass on until the sense has been grasped. This capacity is often gained by students late, sometimes not at all. In a class in Bacon's Essays in Harvard College, I have found my chief difficulty to lie in leading the WHAT MAY COLLEGES EXPECT IN ENGLISH 75 students to realize when they have not understood. The great amount of ground to be covered both in school and college is perhaps the reason for the common slovenliness in reading. If so, we should seek to reduce the quantity; but about the necessity for this training in extracting the marrow of an author there can be no question. Reading should also include reading aloud. It is common to lament this as a lost art. Certainly few of my students can read a passage of English prose with intelligibility, force, and a sympathetic modulation. Yet, both as a highly desirable accomplishment, and as a means of teaching and test- ing the appreciation of literature, reading aloud is of immense importance. It is, unfortunately, One of the qualifications con- cerning which, so far as I know, the statements of entrance requirements in all colleges are silent. It would be difficult, though perhaps not impossible, tO place it among these require- ments and to examine On it; but, in any case, it is surely the business of the schools. \ - The pupil should have been taught to write. If the training in speaking already discussed has been attended to, this, I think, is not so laborious a matter as it is sometimes considered. It does, of course, imply further detail. Any statement of college requirements is explicit as to the correct use of words, the con- struction of sentences and paragraphs, spelling, and the employ- ment of capitals and punctuation. I do not know that anyone disputes the right of the college to demand these things, and few if any schools in New England fail to attempt to supply them. More debatable ground is reached when we come to the question of literature. There are two parts to this question: that concerning the teaching of literature as such, and that concerning the teaching of the history of literature. On the former of these something has already been implied in what has been said of reading; and to that might be added the explanation of allusions. Here lies the teacher's main opportunity for the imparting of that general information the range of which is one measure of the culture of both teacher and pupil. Clearly no definition of amount can be given here: the important point is that the pupil should be trained to pass over nothing that he does 76 THE SCHOOL REVIE]V not understand. The matter of allusions is worth dwelling on for a moment. The pleasure to be derived from an allusion is dependent on previous acquaintance with the fact alluded to. In the absence of such acquaintance, an allusion is not an allu- sion, but a conumdrum. Yet no one can seriously propose to pass it Over unexplained. The two great sources of allusion in our literature are the Bible and the classics. Neither of these is known to our generation of students as they were known to readers contemporary with the authors of the chief master- pieces of English literature; and matters are becoming worse rather than better. Clearly then, so far from giving up the laborious explanation of these things, teachers of English have to face the task of making up for this lack of literary back- ground by supplying generously whatever is called for to insure complete intelligibility of the texts read in school, If the labor which this involves for both student and teacher interferes for the time with the artistic appreciation, let us say, of Milton, the fault is in the situation, not in the method which the situation makes necessary. Gradually, by such teaching, a background will be acquired, Other poems will be made easier and more enjoyable, and in the long run even the poems which have become of necessity a means of training will be returned to with pleasure. Much the same position must be taken with regard to all the matters contained in the notes to a well-edited text. One often hears protests against “note-cramming.” “Note-cramming” is a bad name for a good thing, if it means only the acquiring of the information necessary to make a piece of literature intelligible. If it describes anything else, it describes a stupid way of per- forming a necessary task. No method is safe with a poor teacher. Our concern is with results; and we maintain that the college has a right to expect that what the student reads in school he shall be taught to understand. As for the direct culti- vation of taste and appreciation, vastly important though it is, I believe that no specific demand can be laid down. The teacher with a gift for this may be trusted not to fail to exercise it; the teacher without a gift had better leave it alone. I cannot see VVHAT MAY COLLEGES EXPECT IN ENGLISH 77 that any college has a right to set up a requirement in artistic appreciation. In the history of literature, there is no difficulty in making a requirement specific or in examining. The question is rather as to whether there is room for it in the curriculum. But this much, I think, may fairly be asked, that such an outline of literary history be taught as will provide the student with the ability to place in their period and environment the works and authors that he reads, and with some knowledge of their relative importance. Whether this is to be done by means of a regular textbook, or incidentally in connection with books read, may be left to the individual school. It will be observed that I have given the college a right to expect a great deal that may never be directly examined upon. I think this is as it should be. No teacher whom I am addressing expects to get recognition in examination points for all he does. And our concern here is not with examinations and their remote and helpless approximations. Our programme has permitted us for this morning to concern ourselves with some of the realities of our profession. * * &: * • • - s -* '*, , Reprinted from THE SCHOOL REVIEw, Vol. IX, No. 6, June, I9oI. COLLEGE-ENTRANCE REQUIREMENTS IN ENGLISH : RECENT discussions of entrance requirements in English- have dealt mainly with the practical and the concrete — with methods of teaching, courses of study, and lists of books. It may be interesting to take another point of view. Let us consider for a few moments the rationale of the subject. What do we mean by college-entrance requirements ? More particularly, what ought we to mean by entrance requirements in English ? College-entrance requirements imply a relationship of some kind between colleges and secondary schools. We may begin then by asking what forms or types this relationship may assume. If we attempt to answer the question, we shall find, I think, that as respects this relation there are in this country two distinct and opposed conceptions. For convenience they may be termed the Feudal Conception and the Organic Conception. The feudal system of relationships originated in England in the universities of Oxford and Cambridge. It was transplanted bodily to this country at the founding of the two leading eastern universities, Harvard and Yale. In the East it is still the pre- vailing idea, though certain features of the organic system are making gradual encroachments upon it.* Those who entertain the feudal conception in its extreme form, imagine the university as holding to the preparatory schools the relation of an ancient baron or over-lord to the common people. According to this view the university authorities live as it were in a moated castle, in proud isolation from the rest of the world. They lay down arbitrarily the conditions upon which persons shall be admitted to communion with them. They let in whom they choose and keep out whom they choose. The life within the university has only an accidental relation to the life without. The university has its own aims, its own ideals, its own standards, which exist * Read at the Sixth Annual Meeting of the North Central Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools, Chicago, March 29, I90 I. a I refer to admission by certificate, a small part of the organic conceptiom, often mistaken by easterm teachers for the whole. 365 366 » 7THÆ SCHOO L ÆÆ VVÆ VV * quite independently of the aims and ideals and standards of the secondary schools.' It is not affected by changes in the schools. The schools may sink or swim, survive or perish, advance or retrograde—it is all one to the university. /?s life goes steadily on. To all appeals from the schools it has just one reply: “ Fit pupils to pass our examinations and the drawbridge will be low- ered. If you cannot fit them, you are no longer of any interest to us. We will have none of you.” Such is the general conception of the feudal system of rela- tionships between school and university. Of such a systein it is obvious that the essential and characterizing features are (I) a set of more or less arbitrary requirements for admission formulated by the university authorities, and (2) a rigid exam- ination to which all applicants for admission must submit them- selves. Both the entrance requirements and the examination are matters which pertain solely, or almost solely, to the univer- sity. The standard of requirement is determined out of hand by the university authorities. The examinations are conducted, at the university or elsewhere, by university examiners. From the point of view of the schools, therefore, requirements and examinations, being the recognized prerogatives of the univer- sity, have a value almost purely negative. They are little more than barriers set up by the university in order to keep out objec- tionable students. '• That such a system has its good features cannot be denied. Perhaps the most obvious of them is that the university can set the pace. The preparatory school must bring its pupils up to a certain grade of proficiency or go out of business. The univer- sity thus has the power of raising, as it were by the hair of the head, all of the preparatory schools to a fairly high level. But the system also has some obvious disadvantages, not the least of which is its tendency to convert the preparatory schools into mere coaching machines. Under stress of the feudal system the principal of a preparatory school might reason with himself in this way: “The university sets up a barrier at the entrance, by means of which the examiners propose to keep my pupils out. Let it be my business, then, to get them in. Whether they go through the barrier, or over it, or under it, is of no great COLLEGA-Aev7KAAVCÆ Æ ÆQU/RÆMEAV7S / V ÆNGLISH 367 consequence to me. My success will be measured by the number of my pupils who, after the examinations are over, shall be found on the other side. I shall comply with what appears on the face of the requirements. The university must be responsible for the results.'' Moreover, a principal who reasoned thus would be strongly tempted to select teachers who were similarly minded to himself. He would naturally choose those who had most ingenuity in coaching pupils to pass examinations, rather than those whose influence upon the characters of the pupils would be best and most lasting. The teachers whom he employed, know- ing that they were engaged for the specific purpose of putting pupils through the examinations, might bend all their energies to this one task. They might dismiss, as no concern of theirs, the ultimate effects of such discipline. The outcome might conceivably be that both principal and teachers would tend to lose in some measure their independence and power of initiative. They would need the galling spur of university censure to keep them up even to the level of the formal requirements. I have put the case hypothetically, but that even the best of the eastern preparatory schools and the best of the eastern teachers are not wholly exempt from these dangers is shown by recent events. I have just been reading the report of the fifteenth annual meeting of that ancient and honorable body, the New England Association. of Colleges and Preparatory Schools — a body whose deliberations have contributed to the history of education not only some of its most profitable, but also some of its most amusing features. At this meeting Mr. Charles Cornell Ramsay, principal of the Durfee High School, Fall River, read a report relating to admission to college by certificate and by examination. In the course of his report Mr. Ramsay quoted with approval the following letter from “ the head master of a well-known academy :'' The preparatory schools cannot do without the drastic stimulus of an entrance examination to college. Masters are lazy — some lazier than others, but lazy. The colleges may talk until Time grows gray, but they (the masters) will not act with vigor unless they see the grim necessity right before them of working daily six days each week, to enable boys to enter col- lege with credit. Given the college and anxious parents to apply the spur, and most masters will “come to time." 368 7TÆVÆ SCHVOO Z Æ Æ VVÆ VV So far as appears from the report there were no protests against these amazing charges, either at the time they were read or later. The head-master's characterization seems to have been accepted equanimously and as a matter of course. Indeed, in the discussion that followed, Mr. Wm. C. Collar, head master of the Roxbury Latin School, applauded the sentiments just quoted. '' I believe,'' he said, “ man is a lazy animal by nature, and a boy is so in a superlative degree, and rightly, and we all need, boys and teachers, a goad and a spur, and the examination for admission to college supplies in some measure the goad and the spur that we all need.” - w* - It would be superfluous to point out the particular way in which these utterances illustrate the tendencies that have been indicated above. In sharp contrast to the feudal conception, both in its nature and in its effects, stands the conception that I have termed organic. In its origin it is, of course, an -emanation of the Teu- tonic mind. Embodied first in the school system of Prussia, it was conveyed to America by means of Cousin's famous Report and found its way into the Northwest Territory at a crucial period in the history of our western education. I am repeating what is known to every one here, when I say that this idea received its first concrete expression in America in the school system of the State of Michigan. From that state it has spread over the whole* expanse of the West, wherever state universities have been established. - I have represented the feudal conception under the figure of a baronial castle, but the organic system has so little in common with the feudal system that to picture it adequately to ourselves we must call in the aid of a wholly different metaphor. Although I am aware of the dangers inherent in biological analogies, I will compare this system to a living body. Of this body the uni- versity and the schools are inseparable members. They are related as the eye is related to the hand or as the arteries are related to the heart. As is the case in the living organism, there is division of labor and mutual dependence of parts. The well- being of each member is involved in the well-being of the other. Neither can act arbitrarily and independently without endangering COLLEGAE- Ae/V7TRAAVCÆ ÆÆQU/RÆMÆΛV7S 7Λy ÆΛVGZ/SAV 369 the integrity of the organism. Or, translating these, meta- phorical terms into plain statements, the schools and the university in the organic system constitute one organization, which can reach its highest point of efficiency only when the dependence is recognized, not only of the schools upon the university but of the university upon the schools. That an organic system in its theoretically pure form can be found in actual operation in this country I shall not attempt to maintain, but I do maintain with a good deal of emphasis that the beginnings of such a system can be seen here in the West, that it is growing up spontaneously all about us, in response to a public demand, and that presently it will, as the philosophers say, come to consciousness of itself and take a more definite form. That the form, when it is perfected and made manifest, will be a reproduction of the German system, I am very far from believing. On the contrary, it will be something sui gemeris, something American, probably something western, the outgrowth of our peculiar needs and temperament and ideals. If the essential features of the feudal system are the entrance requirements imposed by the university and the university exam- inations,* the essential features of the organic system are : (I) * If I have omitted to speak of emtrance examinations at western universities, it is because at those universities the number of persons examined for admission is now ' so small as to be practically negligible. The following table will make this sufficiently clear. The statistics, except in the case of Cornell University, are of the fall of I9oo, and (with the same exception) relate only to the literary department: Universities ^gjjgg ά Examined Total Ę - Chicago . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 I 2 7 I 5O 333 I5 Michigan . . . . . • • • • • • • • • • • • • 399 * 9O 48 537 8.9 Wisconsin . . . . . . . . . • • • • • • • 238 6o 28 46o 5 6 Illinois..... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I 2O 45 I O I75 5.7 Iowa . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3O 38 8 I 66 4.8 Cornell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 577 ? 67 24 668 3.5 Colorado. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78 26 o IO4 O Nebraska....... . . . . . . . . . . . . 245 3 | Io6 O 4 35 I O Minnesota .... .... . . . . . . . . . . 233 I 28 O 4 36 I O r Including I 42 admitted to advanced standing. 2 Including r64 admitted on Regents' certificates, and r38 admitted to advanced standing. The figures are takem from the president's report for 1899-19oo. 3 Including 65 admitted by the emrollment committee. 4 No one took all of the examinations; a few were examined in special subjects. 5 The figures are approximate only. Hence the inconsistency. 37 O 7THÆ SCÆVOOÆ ÆÆ VVÆ VV agreement as to what constitutes the normal course of develop- ment of young persons of high school age, (2) a trustworthy means of communication through which the university, on its part, may learn what the high schools can do, and the high schools, on their part, may learn what the university wants. The first is what we know as university requirements ; the second exists, at present, in a crude, inchoate form in our present system of university inspection, our associations of secondary and university teachers, our university publications intended for Secondary teachers, and our system of reports and certifi- CateS. Although one who is familiar with the workings of the organic system is not likely to maintain that it is in practice an unmixed good, yet such a one can easily show wherein it escapes the evils of the feudal system. Its general effect upon both princi- pal and teachers is to promote independence, and at the same time a sense of responsibility. The teacher is not engaged in coaching pupils for examination. He is not even, in any narrow sense, fitting them for the university. They are already in the university, in the sense that they are in the system of which the university is a part. If the teacher is in substantial agreement with the ideals of the university — and the theory of the system supposes that he is—he is free to arrange his work solely with reference to the needs of his pupils. He is responsible to the university not for the completion of some set of formal require- ments, but for developing to the utmost the minds and charac- ters of the pupils in his charge. We are now ready, after this long introduction, to consider the rationale of the so-called English requirements. What are English requirements from the point of view of the eastern and the western teacher, and what are their effects on teacher and pupil ? From the eastern standpoint entrance requirements are necessarily something pretty specific and rather formal. All pupils must take the same examination ; hence all must read the same books in the same way. The examiners, in order to finish their gigantic task of marking four hundred or five hundred examination papers in a brief time, must read, as one of them coLLEGE EVTRAA/CE REQUIREMEA/7S /A EVGZ/SA 37 I puts it, “ under the lash.'* Hence the pupil, in order to stand any chance of getting good marks, must conform to a conven- tional standard. He must learn to write the things which, by tradition, have found favor in the eyes of the over-scutched examiners. Now, what the effect of such a requirement may be upon other subjects than English, I cannot say. Possibly in the case of such studies as algebra and geometry and Latin (as it is taught) it does no great harm. But in English, and particularly in rhetoric and composition, it seems to me almost certain to be disastrous. The reasons for this are obvious. The teaching of English, more than the teaching of any other subject, is a mat- ter of sympathy, of personal appeal, of mind catching fire from mind. Spontaneity and enthusiasm are the very breath in its lungs. Without these, drill and recitation and correction count for little. Unless the teacher of English can carry his pupils with him, they do not go at all ; they fall by the wayside. But to all of these requisites of good English teaching the feudal idea is flatly opposed. It says to the teacher: “You must teach these books whether you care for them or not,'' and to the pupil it says: “ You must be coached on these books and be ready to write interesting papers on them, or you won't get into the uni- versity." I can think of no better recipe than that for deadening the nerves of sympathy and enthusiasm. Evidences abound showing that in some of the eastern prep- aratory schools the feudal idea reacts powerfully on the teaching of English. To quote the words of a Harvard instructor who has had considerable experience: One of the gravest faults which underlie the whole system is that the training in English is given not for the lasting benefit of the student, but to enable him to pass the Harvard entrance examination ; when he has read the required books and written a composition, when he is stuffed with the necessary facts and supposed to be able to bring them out as occasion calls, his education in English is complete.* Still stronger evidence is furnished by those very frank autobiographies of Harvard students published in I 897 by the * PROFESsoR L. B. R. BRIGGS in Zwemty Years of Schoo/ ama' Co//ege Æmg/is/. p. , 47. *. a B. S. HURLBUT in 7'wemty Years of School and College Ænglish, p. 49. 372 7THÆ SCHOOL Æ Æ VIÆ V}, Harvard Committee on Rhetoric and Composition. I will quote a few of them : “The great fault of the preparatory school is that it simply prepares, and does not lay a permanent foundation for knowledge. I was often told at (the New Hampshire Academy, where I was prepared): “ Now, this is simply to make you ready for the examination ; you'll probably forget all about it after- wards.' • . “The fifth year was spent in preparing us for the preliminary examina- tions. As English was not one of them, they considered it as a secondary subject. The only English we had was the reading of some of Shakespeare's plays. Although we were continually being warned not to make such blun- ders in our sight translations, and that our papers would not be accepted over at Harvard if they contained such English. “ Finally, in the sixth year, they tried to make up for lost time in teaching English. They seemed to teach it to us for the sole purpose of making us pass the examination, because they continually used examination papers as references, and they said all the time that we must do this or that if we expected to pass the examination. “ It seems to me that the all-pervading idea of the school was not so much to give us a lasting knowledge of the English language, but rather to force enough of the rudiments of the language into our heads so that we should be able to pass the examinations for Harvard. When we made a mistake in anything the teacher would say that they marked this very hard at Harvard; instead of merely telling us that it was bad English. “ Then I thought that I was thoroughly prepared to take the Harvard examinations. I was told to * cram ' on Milton's works, as there would cer- tainly be questions on the paper based upon them. I obeyed orders. The last of June found me taking the examination. I was greatly surprised when I read the paper to find that it was based upon Longfellow's Evange/ime, and other books which I had studied in the grammar school and which I had not read for four years.'' - “ For four years I studied (in a New Hampshire academy). Professor 's object in teaching English is to prepare men for the entrance examination to Harvard College. He told us the fact on the first day, and four years later ended his ' goodbys' by giving directions how to pass the examinations most successfully.'' Such statements as “this last year's work was all right as a preparation for the examination,” “our first duty was to make ready for the Harvard examination in English,” “after all, young men go to school to pass the college examinations," occur in many of the other papers; but perhaps the most sig- nificant utterance is the following: “ Harvard overseers hold up COLLEGAE- AeÅV7TRAAVCÆ ÆÆQU/A€ÆMÆΛV7S /Λ/ ÆΛVGLVSÄ/ 373 our English to ridicule and ask, Why ? Do they expect prepara- tory schools to teach English without incentive ? How foolish !'' If we turn now to the organic system, we shall find, if not a better, at least a very different set of influences. Under this system entrance requirements, which play so important a part in the feudal system, can hardly be said to exist. The term is a misnomer borrowed from the feudal conception. If it is retained at all, it must be interpreted from the point of view of the schools, as well as from the point of view of the university. That is to say, entrance requirements, organically conceived, are not only the demands which the university makes upon those who are to be admitted to the privileges of the higher educa- tion ; they are quite as much the demands made by the princi- pals and teachers of the secondary schools upon the pupils who are to represent those schools at the university. Thus inter- preted, the requirements, from either point of view, are simply the normal educational processes by which young persons of high-school age attain to a healthy intellectual development. What these processes may be is a matter to be determined by schools and colleges acting conjointly and bringing to bear on the problem their combined wisdom and experience, each defer- ring to the other in minor points in order to secure the completest possible adjustment in essentials. Logically, then, in reply to secondary-school teachers who ask, What are your requirements in English ? a university work- ing under the organic system ought to reply: “ We make no formal requirements. We | only point to our needs. What we . want is young men and women whose literary instincts are normal and whose literary habits are good. We want students who know what good literature is and enjoy reading it ; who can express themselves with a fair degree of ease and accuracy ; and who have a taste for what is simple and sincefe, as opposed to'what is tawdry, or mawkish, or vulgar, in their own writing and the writing of their fellow students. Send us young persons thus equipped and we shall make no further requirement.” And if the teachers, somewhat taken aback by this sudden and unex- pected concession, should ask further, How are these good 374 7THÆ SCÆVOOÆ ÆÆ VVÆ MV results to be secured ? the university might logically answer: “That, primarily, is your business. It is you teachers who will mold the pupil's mind and character by your daily communion with him. Therefore it is you teachers who must take the initia- tive and the responsibility, whether in determining the method of teaching, in laying out the courses of instruction, or in meet- ing day by day the unforeseen exigencies of the class room.” Indeed, under ideal conditions the university might go so far as to say to the English teacher: “Do what you think best. Let your course in English extend over four years or one year, or abolish it altogether. Have a course in rhetoric or have it not. Require your pupils to write once a day or once a year. Read ten books at a snail's pace or read two hundred books at headlong speed. In short, follow your own bent and your own judgment, provided only you send us young men and women who respect their mother tongue and know how to use it. If you want advice, or want to know more definitely what our ideals are, we are ready and eager to give information. But we do not prescribe, we do not dictate.” , This, I repeat, is what the university, under ideal conditions, might confidently say to the principals and teachers of English in our high schools. Under ideal conditions, I say ; but conditions, as we all know, are not everywhere ideal, either as regards prin- cipals or as regards teachers of English. In the first place the organic conception, although I have spoken of it so confidently, and although I believe in it so firmly, is still in the subconscious stage. To most persons it is about as tangible as the unity of society. Even in my own state, where, if anywhere, it should rise above the threshold of consciousness, there are few second- ary teachers* who do not now and then revert to the ideas and the terminology of the feudal conception. Not long ago I had some correspondence with one of our principals in regard to the English courses in his school. Among the questions he asked * To say nothing of members of the University faculty. A respected colleague with whom I conversed recently about some of our accredited schools, was so recal- citrant and spiritually inorganic as to affirm that in his view the certificate system was rotten to the core. But he would probably say the same thing about the examinatiom system. - COLLEGAE- Ae/V7TRANCÆ RÆQU/RÆMÆ V7S /Λ/ ÆÂVGZ/SÆ/ 375 were these: “ Would a two-hour rhetoric course in the sopho- more year satisfy the requirements of the university in rhetoric ?” “ Does the university prescribe an order in which the books required for admission shall be read ?” “ Will one essay every two months be satisfactory to the department of English ?” And so on. He had got into his mind the pestilent heresy that when he had provided what the printed statements in the uni- versity calendar called for, his duty was fulfilled. When he had done that much, the university (he vaguely felt) ought to step in and assume responsibility for the results. To a principal in such a frame of mind the university naturally hesitates to say, “ Make the requirements in English anything you please.” The principal might indeed accept the challenge in the spirit in which it was made. Probably he would do so. But there is some likelihood that when he was hard pressed by the claims of other subjects, he would feel warranted in letting some part of the English work drop ; not because he believed it ought to be dropped, but because to drop it would be to follow the line of least resistance. - This desire to escape responsibility is sometimes seen in the teachers as well as in the principal; but in them it arises from a different cause. In the case of the teachers it arises from the fact that they are not so well trained as they should be for the specific duties that are laid upon them. This is particularly true of teachers of rhetoric and composition. We all know teachers of these subjects, of the best disposition in the world, earnest, enthusiastic, conscientious to a fault, who, because they have had no special training for this particular business, are pitifully dependent upon others for their ideas and their methods. With no solid grounding in the fundamental principles of their subject, they are at the mercy of every text-book and magazine article. A new definition of rhetoric or a new device in teaching composition is to them a kind of miracle. They cannot place it. They live all their lives in a state of vacillation between antagonistic theories. Upon such teachers the university does not like to throw the whole responsibility of determining how much English shall be taught and in what manner it shall be taught. 376 7YZAE SCAZOO Z KAZ VVÆ}} Finally, among the unideal conditions should be mentioned the present means of communication between the high school and the university. At present it is long before the high school teacher of English learns whether in the eyes of the university the fruits of his work are good or not. Perhaps he never learns, or learns only in a haphazard way. The university has no medium for communicating to him promptly, and at frequent intervals, its estimate of the English of his former pupils. Nor in most cases is there any convenient way by which the teachers of English can receive from the university instant help and advice in an emergency. • These obstacles to the working of the organic system of requirements will doubtless be removed by degrees. Meanwhile what should be the attitude of the university ? In general it may be said that inasmuch as ideals are things that we may approach but never can attain to, it probably always will be necessary for the university to lay down certain requirements in English ; but these will, I am sure, as time goes on, depart more and more from the rigid prescriptions of the feudal system. They will take the form of statements of proficiency in com- position and of appreciation of literature, corresponding to the attainments of the average pupils in the best high schools. To these will be added hints and suggestions of methods of teach- ing that have been found to be effective in actual practice. As for the lists of books that have excited so much discussion of late, I imagine that here in the West we shall always be in favor of the largest liberty of choice. Under the organic con- ception uniformity, except in the sense of agreement regarding standards and ideals of proficiency, has but slight significance. The tendency is rather toward the wide diversity congenial to differences in environments, teachers, and types of students. For this reason the open revolt against the list of books named by the Joint Committee on Uniform Requirements in English, seems to me to be one. of the most significant evidences that have recently come to light of a healthy organic life in our edu- cational institutions.* - * My words will not be less pointed if I say that as a member of that committee I helped make the list. COLLEGE- EAVTRANCÆ REQUIRÆMÆΛVTS TV ÆλVG LISAI 377 But entrance requirements, as I have shown, must not be inter- preted from the point of view of the university alone. I should be false to my- theory if I did not point out how this liberal attitude of the university lays duties upon the schools ; or ifit does not lay duties at least makes it fitting for the schools to take duties upon themselves. The first duty relates to the principals. If the atti- tude of the university is such as I have described, it then becomes the duty of the principals to cultivate a great tenderness of con- science with regard to secondary English. Freedom, like nobility, confers obligation. Now and then one hears a princi- pal say, with the earnestness of conviction: “ I allow nothing to interfere with English. Other studies may have to give way occasionally, but English never.'' I wish more could say this truthfully. I do not mean that I am jealous for a certain number Of hours or a certain number of exercises. What I want is the spirit, the respectful attitude. I would rather have in a high school an English course of but one hour a week with the understanding that it should never, on any pretext, be set aside, than a course of five hours a week with the understanding that a part of the students might, on some plea or other, at any time be excused from it. The Second afid most important obligation, however, rests with the teachers. They hold the key to the situation. Upon their fitness or unfitness for their specific tasks hang the fortunes of secondary instruction. If the teachers know their business the requirements will take care of themselves. It is the duty, there- fore, of every teacher of English who realizes his great responsi- bility, to give himself as thorough a training for his work as it is possible for him to obtain. Opportunity for good training is now generally available. Teachers' courses in English literature have been offered for many years in almost every university in this country, both in the regular sessions and in the summer schools. More recently teachers' courses in rhetoric and com- position have been established, and although there is as yet some confusion in regard to the aims of such courses, the improve- ment which they have wrought in enlarging the resources of the teachers and enhancing the interest and value of their work, is 378 * , 7ΤΗAE SCAZOO/ ÆÆ VVÆ VV * ? {* distinctly appreciable. These courses are now the most adequate means through which the secondary teachers and the university can hold communion and effect interchange of opinion. I look for a great increase of interest in this line of work, and I venture the prophecy that if these courses are properly fostered in the uni- versity and heartily supported in the schools, the grade of intelli- gence and of resource in our teachers will so advance within the next decade as completely to transform the spirit and method of secondary English. We shall then be a long way on the road to a solution of the problem of entrance requirements. FRED NEWTON SCOTT UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN 34 ON CRITICISM OF THEMES BY STUDENTS ROBERT G. VALENTINE A'eprimtea from the TECHNOLOGY REVIEW, Vo/. /V, AVo. 4 EOSTON GEo. H. ELLIS Co., PRINTERS, 272 CONGRESS STREET I9O2 ON CRITICISM OF THEMES BY STUDENTS * The themes printed here are precise copies of themes written by Freshmen at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Some of these themes will give the reader too low an idea of the abilities of the Institute Freshmen. To present fair specimens of the work in English composi- tion is not the aim of this paper. The object is to tell of a plan, tried last year, of which the chief characteristic is that criticism of themes is done largely by the students. The details of methods used must be spoken of to some extent in order to make clear the principles on which the work rests. In applying these principles, each teacher will of course have his own scheme. The student takes home the theme of another, and writes his criticism upon it in red ink. This work counts as half of his work for the week ; his own theme, as the other half. His mark is, therefore, the sum of the parts of two fifties. As the next step, both the writer of the theme and the critic study it with the instructor in a con- sultation of from five to twenty minutes. The records are so kept that, when a man comes for consultation, he talks over all his own themes and also his criticism of other themes. Thus, in the end, the student both gives and receives criticism which is careful and full, and of which the inaccuracies are pointed out by the instructor. Relieved of drudgery, the instructor is enabled to put his whole force on whatever is each student's most vital need. This method succeeds better with some classes than with others. Classes, like individuals, are sociable, retiring, light-headed, dull, bright, capable of working well only in leading-strings or capable of themselves hacking their way to power. I Different as classes are, the work here ex- plained should be useful to them all in the hands of a first- class teacher, and probably, if his method be right, in those * See Vol. I. p. 44I of the Revi£w. 4 of a poor one. Under this system a poor teacher may possibly become less of a drag ; for, if the method is capable of living, it has its life firmly seated within itself, and the teacher becomes, like the manager of one depart- ment of a corporation, potentially greater for good, but with less power to do harm. - To the student the immediate results of this work form a sure foundation for the best use of his abilities, both while he is an undergraduate and when he enters upon his profession. At the end of a lecture, writer and critic have been seen, in the class-room or on the stairs. or steps, in attitudes of discussion that at a bound put English compo- sition into the realm of vital affairs. What spectacles and arguments take place among the lodgings is unknown ; but it can hardly be doubted that much good is done there, too, since the discussions noticed, though often energetic, are anything but incoherent. Last year several students did such effective work in criticism, and the help they were able to give was so gladly received by their fellows that they were equivalent to an addition to the instructing force, with full pay, in benefit to themselves. As the work pro- gresses, the qualities developed in the student are precisely those which will be most valuable to him in his work in the world. He becomes wide-eyed in seeing faults, workman- like in the correction of them, sportsmanlike, hitting hard, and giving and demanding fair play. All this he learns to , do with dignity and courtesy. One of the methods for starting this work is to have the writer of the theme, before he begins to write, make a brief character sketch of some person to whom the theme is to be written. In such cases it becomes the critic's duty to put himself into the mental attitude of this reader. To make the work of more meaning to the men, several de- vices have been used. Sometimes students hand in requests for themes on subjects about which they wish to know. The instructor then reads these requests to the class, and such men as think they can give the information wanted volunteer to try. Often they make the acquaintance of the questioners, and the work is thus made so much the more 5 telling. Again, the subjects and titles of themes handed in are read to the class, and the themes are distributed for criticism, as far as possible, to the men who desire them. The following theme illustrates some of the points already mentioned, and will make the remaining remarks more clear. The corrections which the student makes on the body of the theme are given here in the wide margin. His comment is printed at the end of the theme across the whole page. TROUT FISHING IN A BROOK IN THE WOODS ADDRESSED TO A FISHERMAN WHO THINKS IT TOO MUCH TROUBLE TO SIT ON A WHARF OR IN A BOAT This sentence might very well have been omitted. It is not directly connected with the subject. * great numbers Reconstruct for emphasis. Going along in a thick woods, without carrying any- thing, is hard enough ; but when a person has to drag a long pole and line with him, it becomes doubly difficult. I don't understand this op- eration. * to weave his line *vines (probably) *bushes. Finally he again gets, etc. AND WAIT FOR FISH TO COME TO HIS LINE Fishing for trout in a brook which runs through a dense woods, is a rather difficult task, but it is in such brooks that trout are found in greatest quan- tities,* and this is what a true fisher- man wants rather than an easy time. It is hard enough to get along in a thick woods without carrying anything, but with a long pole and a line attached to its end, it is very troublesome. Sometimes to go as short a distance as ten feet along the edge of a brook in the woods, one has to drop the butt end of his pole, wind the line around the point, and then weave * it through a perfect net work of small trees, viands,* and bushes * until he gets to an open space large enough to again allow him to take his pole at its proper end. At this point he has to unwind his line, sometimes to make but one or 6 * casts ; then he must again go through the place, where he can, . . . with some safety. (at end for emphasis) * Often a fish bites and does not get hooked. When this happens 2nd paragraph * these difficulties which he * a mam who fishes in a brook has to endure other annoy- ances. He gets (1) his face etc. he gets (2) . his . . . his and (3) he has his face etc. Why do you change your person from the indefinite 3rd to the 2nd, from ** one ** and «« he ** to «« you ** ? (on this page) * though exciting, unpleasant. ** Trout fishing in a brook is unpleasant,** is the general thought of your theme. Why not end with this thought. Your last six words * * side- track ** the purpose of the theme. According to your last sen- tence, you do not consider fishing in open water a sport. Is that so ? two casts,* and then again repeat the trouble of getting to another place where he can with some safety cast his line again. * Often times a fish will bite and not get hooked, and when such cases happen a long time is spent in getting the line unfastened from limbs of trees which project directly over the stream. Besides the * difficulties one has in making his way along the edges of a brook in the woods, there * are many annoyances to be put up with, such as getting your face into the webs of large spiders, getting your face and hands scratched, and fine needles and small sticks down your back by way of your collar. & - All these trials, with an occasional tumble into the water from trying to lean too far over the bank, go to make trout fishing* come under the head of sport. As a whole, the theme has unity because it is all about fishing. But that organised unity, which makes a theme forceful, is lacking. There are a number of thoughts, but they seem all thrown together. Your sentences are, positively too long. You have exactly I 3 thoughts and you should have that many sentences. You have only 8. Then you have 7 Paragraphs for 8 sentences. This is evidently too many. Two are sufficient for your theme. Put ome thought in a sentence and form paragraphs!!! 7 To make the student feel that his criticisms and com- ments upon themes can be really of value is no easy task. His perfectly natural scepticism in this respect is an almost insurmountable barrier. It is crossed, however, as he comes to recognize what it means for him to see another student's work. In this light he writes both his criticisms and his own themes. The rubbish and undue confidences so often written to instructors in English prove that in- structors have often been held by the college man to be in nature something between a god and a waste-paper basket. This is an animal for which no student can mistake his fellow. Before another student he becomes humanly con- scious of the real nature of the demands upon him and of his own shortcomings. At precisely this moment he begins to improve. Work that ** would do ” for the more abstract instructor he is ashamed to hand to his concrete classmate. His writing gains in arrangement and neatness. He be- comes more simple and direct in his statements. His themes grow to mean something to the men they are written for. His criticisms do likewise, and so steadily win his own respect and care. These advantages to a composition are much the same as those of electric lighting and efficient police to a city. Above these is a further and constructive advantage. A college man soon finds that his fellows will not care about him unless he makes himself cared for. It is necessary for him to win himself friends. If he does not come out of himself, he will be left alone ; and, since he can hardly escape his fighting nature, he will struggle with phantoms. To help him to know the real men around him is one of the powers of English composition, and one which the writer of this paper believes can be made of great advan- tage to composition itself. When the student graduates, the reports he will write, the arguments he will make, will depend for their success not only on his scientific training, but on his knowledge of men and on the training he has had in expressing himself to men. Under the plan here outlined the student has brought home to him the im- portance of this training. A CONTINUOUS DEMAND. * When going in to bat in a game etc. * pitcher. Right here etc. * begin * the * give the closest attention, in order to find out etc. * the ball * curve ; * case, * to sendit exactly to the right place. He can only do this by etc. * diminish his attention * This sentence has three or four ideas in it. Two sen- tences are made by cutting it in two. • advantage. He must be ready to utilize any opportunity * Starting to play a game of base-ball, one steps to the plate with his bat, and faces the pitcher * and right here, at the beginning, he must start * in to for- get everything else and concentrate his whole mind on his * game. From the time the pitcher begins his preliminary motions until the ball reaches him, he must fasten his eyes * right on the ball, to find out, as nearly as he can, just when and how near* it will come to him. It may come straight, and as swiftly as a rifle bullet, or it may be a deceptive slow curve,* it may come right over the plate, or it may come high, low, out, or in. must be ready, just as it reaches the plate, to either let it go by, or hit it in such a way as to send it to exactly * In any case * he the right place. This he can do only by fixing his whole attention directly on the ball. He gets a hit, or a base on balls, per- haps, and advances from the plate to the bases, but he can by no means let up * on his direct concentration of mind on the game. He must watch every motion of the pitcher and be ready, if the latter tries to catch him, to get back * Besides this, he must watch the batter carefully, so to his base instantly. that he may cooperate with him to the greatest advantage, be ready * to take advantage of any opportunity to steal 9 *a base * Besides all this, * should * keep * in order to take in every * time. It may etc. * liner ; * go * Omit away * judge * and start for that place This sentence is nearly a repetition of the main idea and is practically repeated in the be- ginning of the next paragraph. * At all times he must keep in mind etc. * and . . . game. bury himselfin the This theme is a theme of exposition. his * base and be prepared, in case of any kind of a hit or emergency, to act immediately and in the best way. *For all of this it is absolutely necessary that he follow * the ball closely and centre * his mind right on the play. His side gets out, and he goes into the field, and here, still, he must put the whole energy of his mind into the game, so * that as to take in every de- tail of the play. The ball is likely to be hit in his direction at any time * ; it may be a fiy, a ground ball, or a swift « liner * : it may move * some distance in back of him, away * in front of him, or off to one side. At the crack of the bat he must decide * just where it will come, and be off to * that place in- stantly. To do this it is obvious that he must have his whole attention fas- tened on the game. All through the game, therefore, he must devote to the play the entire strength of his mind. He must be wide awake to everything that is going on in the game. * He must at all times keep in mind every detail of the situation and be prepared for any emergency that may arise. His thoughts cannot wander away for an instant ; in fact, he must shut everything else from his mind, and * as it were bury himself in his game. It tells just how a player has to con- centrate his mind on the different parts of a ball game ; at bat, om the bases, and in the field. It is perfectly logical that there should be four paragraphs in this IO theme. The first paragraph speaks of the player at bat, the next on the bases, the third in the field, and the fourth of the game in general. These are four distinct phases and each calls for a new paragraph. The idea, and especially the expression of ** Concentration of mind ** is brought in a little too frequently and gets a little monotonous unless varied somewhat. There is also a little too much slang of the game ; such expressions as ** fasten his eye on the ball,** etC. THE CANTEEN QUESTION You have simply given General Miles' version of the question, and have not at- tempted the other side. The title should be General Miles' opinion of the Canteen Ques- t1On. Not original w o r k, — all quotations fr o m G e n e r al Miles. The subject is entirely too broad for a three page essay. * liquors, * not General Miles supports the abolition He says : « Much has been said concerning the army can- Of the army canteen. teen which when first established was called the * amusement room ** and af- terwards the ** post exchange.** It was a place of amusement and recreation for the enlisted men where they could enjoy reading books and papers, playing games etc., and could purchase such refreshments, except liqours * as they desired. It was then an eminently suc- cessful institution and promoted the contentment and general welfare of the troops. Later, when what was known as the post traders' establishments were abolished, light wines and beers were authorized to be sold in the canteen. The government has now, by act of Congress, prohibited the sale of untoxi- cating beverages in the canteen, and it is believed that no injury has resulted thereby and that the law has, in the main, been beneficial. The army is composed principally of young men who have no * formed the habit of using liquor, and although the majority of en- listments actually occur in large cities, I I No pains taken in sentence StruCture. Paragraphing good. * There is no antecedent to ** it ** expressed. «* His opin- ion ** you probably mean. You have given no reasons complete enough to draw such a conclusion. as the recruiting offices are principally located there, a large percentage of the men come from homes in the country and small towns and villages in every part of the United States. The predic- tion that the change would prevent en- listment and increase desertions has not been fulfilled. Since the law was ap- proved, namely, on Feb. 2, I9o I, the recruiting stations have been thronged with men seeking enlistment for service, 25,944 men having enlisted since that date, and the percentage of desertions is now far less than in former years. Desertions most usually occur during the first six months of enlistment, and a much larger percentage of enlistments has been made during the past six months than heretofore. In many cases the men that have deserted belong to a class whose presence in the service was not desirable under any conditions, but whose real character was not known at the time of enlistment.** There are other officers whose state— ments go to show that the abolishment of the canteen was a bad measure. Since a man in General Miles's position supports the abolition of the canteen it * will and ought to have great weight. The only way to see which side is right would be to have a fair trial and testimony from both sides. With the exception of the last nine lines, the essay is copied, as you say, word for word from a statement of General Miles, amd it is therefore mot your original work and not my part to attempt to correct quotations. If you desire to discuss I 2 the canteem question from authorities, you should not limit your research to one ITA2lI). As it is, you have simply given an extract of General Miles' opinion on the subject, and have made no comparisons or arguments whatever. Why not include the statistics of increased drunkenness given out by the Secretary of War, Root, or the findings of the Committee on Military Affairs of congress, if you wish to use authorities ? The only original opinion of yours is that included in the last three lines, and that is very vague. To treat such a subject in three pages, you should give concise statements of all the best arguments on the subject instead of taking over two pages for simply one essential idea. space. LEGS * One afternoon unnecessary £€ » 9 * left in order to go through several tOWnS not connected with your subject * Par. here * machine, Incomplete expression * At times while steering etc. Emphasis spoiled here * three or four imches Incomplete expression What dimension of the sand do you meam ? Even then, the subject would be entirely too broad for the AGAINST STEAM One * afternoon, my cousin and I, started to follow the Steamer M to N VVe left * on Our tandem * the moment the boat left the wharf. For the first two or three miles, the road ran parallel to the river, but after that it leaves * the river in order to go through several towns. We came to the bridge at C a ride on the draw. just in time to get * As soon as the draw was closed, we jumped on our machine * for we knew there were four long hills between us and the next bridge. By hard riding we managed to reach the top of the last hill, just as the Steamer whistled for the draw at Rock's Bridge to be opened. What a ride that W2iS the hill. At times * it seemed as if my wrists must break, steering. At the bottom, were three or four inches * of sand. The machine slid through it at a breakneck speed. We arrived at the bridge however, too before the draw was opened. * As soon as possible we were down * New par. here late to cross I3 across the bridge and speeding towards the next one, five miles farther down. On reaching here, the steamer was out of sight. The travelled road was con- * that siderably longer than that * by which Antecedent is obscure. the boat came. Now was the time for The boat came by a river, eo & not a road. sprinting. We had one more chance It seemed as if our machine must break to to win before reaching N pieces, such was the awful strain. At * climbed last we climb * our last hill and * had have * only two miles of level, macadam road before us. Those last two miles * came seemed an eternity but at last we were * A weak ending. , Spoils the in sight of our destination. The race °°P'*** **°" **"** *** was a tie, but we had the farthest to gO. whole. » - The unity of your whole composition, as well as that of your sentences, is well kept. The emphasis of your sentences is also good. Your unity of expres- siom in some places, however, is not so good. In the sentence in which you mentiom the bridges and roads in the course of the race, it is difficult for the reader to see at first how the latter affect the race. The best way to show this would be to outline in your first paragraph the course of the race. The reader could also follow the story of the race more easily if its different stages were shown by a sub-division of the theme into paragraphs. Your chief fault, how- ever, is your lack of coherence. The connection between your succeeding sen- tences is not shown clearly ; and the incoherence confuses the reader and makes it hard for him to follow the theme understandingly. MAKING A CABIN The first thing we did was to select a cool and shady spot in the woods. Having found a suitable place we raked * loose all the leaves and all the losse * stones away and cut down all the trees and bushes except four trees. These trees were so situated that they readily served I4 * On each side between the two posts we put in two posts. * connecting all the posts, around the sides * Omit pretty * No, * and it looked pretty indeed. End. Not on the subject. as our four corner posts. We * then put in two posts between the two cor- ner posts on each side. Previous to doing this, we had nailed four pieces of scantling around the trees, at a height of eight feet from the ground. Allow- ing a space for a door and .one for a window, we nailed small strips* around the sides about a half a foot apart con- necting all the posts and did the same thing to roof. After doing this we had a pretty * substantial frame-work for our little cabin. Next came the work of thatching the sides and the roof. We decided to thatch the roof first, because if we should thatch the sides first we would be very likely to stick our feet through the thatching in climbing up and down from the roof. For this work we gathered a large quantity of small branches,* which had plenty of leaves on them. The thatching was done by weaving the small branches in and out among the strips which had been nailed to the posts and scantling. After we had covered every opening we thatched the sides in the same manner, beginning from the top and working downward. Then our little cabin was finished and very * pretty indeed did it look. Many a pleasant afternoon did we spend in that quiet and cool little cabin. When it was too hot to do anything or go any place we would get books and I 5 go there and read. Very often we would spend the night out there. In fact, we used to make it a regular camp. In describing what good times you had at the little camp and in telling why you went there you forgot your subject was on building a camp not what you did there. I doubt also if you made a camp with a perfectly flat roof, yet you say it was ' eight feet high all around. Is that the case ? THE BEGINNER IN GOLF Golf appears as seen etc. It is not strictly in accord- ance with good use to com- mence a sentence with a par- ticipial phrase. * of games. * But also how sadly mistaken that person is. * He must learn etc. «« Similarity in the relation of ideas should be made evi- dent by uniformity in the con- struction of the sentence.** * and they will . . . before he has mastered the game. ** Phrases or clauses closely associated in thought should be closely associated in expres- sion.'' As here the idea of the probability of these qualifica- tions is associated with the idea of their being essential. * in severance and patience. As seen by the on-looker, golf ap- pears to be one of the easiest and sim- But yet* how sadly mistaken is that person. He says, * Why, all you have to do is to hit that little white ball.” Yes, that is all, but oh, how much trouble lies in hitting that little ball. Then, too, he has * to learn just how far and where, $plest* games on earth. he must send it. The beginner in golf, must have per- These are very essential, and * before he has mas- tered the game, they will, in all proba- The bility, be completely worn out. beginner should be careful as to* the choice of his clubs ; single piece clubs are much better than the two piece clubs and although, the latter are cheaper, the single piece clubs will pay f * of cost * the reader may not know what topping a ball means. * points * one becomes * teed means a position up therefore ** up ** is not needed. * taken in driving off. Coherence is lacking it would be better to leave the prep. phrase * * in driving off** till the last of the sentence. * « « in both hands ** should appear at the end of the sen- temce for coherence. * For better emphasis put «« the eye ** etc. first. * Omit right * the ball * thing to use for work on the links. This is superfluous the meaning is perfectly clear without it. * stroke. I6 the difference in * cost in the long run. A beginner may safely use cheap balls, for he is sure to ruin most any ball by Then, too, he should endeavor to obtain a good caddy ; one « topping* * it. who is able to give him pointers * on the game. . It is best to use a small rubber tee in driving off, although when he * be- comes proficient in the game the ball may be « teed* up * on sand. In driv- ing off, a position within easy swinging distance of the ball should be taken ; * and the weight of the body should be The &c driver ?? grasped firmly in both thrown on the right leg. should be hands,* near its top ; care should be taken to see that the right hand is be- low the left. The club should be brought back in a full circle and then brought down with a sharp quick During the whole stroke the eye * must be kept on the ball, for if this is not done the aim is liable to be thrown ofF. When the club is brought down it must not be stopped right * when ball * is hit but it must be al- lowed to follow up the ball. If the links are in good condition, a ** brassy ” is the best club to use, but if the grass is long a ** cleak ” is perhaps the best thing to use for work on the links. * The work on the « green ** is perhaps the hardest part of golf. In ** putting” it is best to grasp the club near its middle and hit the ball with a kind of shove stroke. I 7 The beginner will often be dis- couraged but it will not be long before he too, is one of those ** crazy ** golf enthusiasts. I hardly think a beginner would succeed if he followed your instructions in some cases. You have left out some very important points on how to dis- tribute the strength of the stroke, which if not made clear to the novice, will cause him much trouble. Too many sentences are begun with * The beginner ” or ** A beginner.” You have used such terms as ** topping,” ** teed,” ** driver,” ** brassy,” * cleak,** «« links,** ** greens, putting,** and have not explained their meaning. ** The beginner** would have to study this theme with a dictionary in order to get much benefit from it. On the whole this is a fair theme of exposition, although it could be made clearer by making use of improvements suggested above. *) a € THE RECOVERY OF BY PRODUCTS OF THE BLAST FURNACE - The by-products of the blast furnace are about the same as those of the gas * . * Omit but. * The works,* but * the * conditions are much condition in which these by- d;£pen* products of the blast furnace . is obtained is much different coal produces about Io,ooo cubic feet from the cgndition of the by- of gas which carried with it the products products of the gas works. In the gas works a ton of to be recovered. In the blast furnace a ton of coal produces from I 3o,ooo * to * Do not use figures. I8o,ooo * cubic feet of gas with about the same amount of recoverable matter scattered through it. A group of blast furnaces each consuming about Iooo tons of coal per week will produce an * This has nothing to do enormous amount of gas. * Thus it with the subject therefore omit. appears that very much larger recover- ing apparatus would be required for the blast furnace gases than would be re- quired for the gas of an ordinary gas * Theme begins here. plant. * The gases from the blast fur- I8 *. Omit but. It * This is where your theme should begin, all that you have written thus far has noth- ing to do with the recovery of the by-products of the blast furnace. - Intended to say theme be- gins on preceding page. *, * for * are. * place of them. * New Paragraph *. * Omit and This tank. * Do you mean sucked through the tar or do you meam forced through the tar ? * which is * are * Omit and. At * gases (tar ?) * from this washer at intervals and are conducted into a stor- age tank. * up naces have been used for many years for heating the air blast and also as fuel under the boilers,* but *, it * has been only in comparatively recent years that a more extended use has been made, and valuable products extracted from them. * These products are ammonia and coal tar. The ammonia is gener- ally converted into ammonium sul- phate * as * this is the most convenient and salable form of ammonia. The apparatus required for the re- covery of these products generally con- sists of a preliminary washer for the gases, an atmospheric condensor, and scrubbers. In some places the scrub- bers are done away with and two or more washers * used in their * stead.* * The preliminary washer consists of a large boiler-shaped tank with sloping bottom,* and * * is partly filled with Through this tar the hot gases from the furnaces are drawn,* with the tar. result that the water * in the tar * is partly evaporated and the gases * some- what cooled, and * at* the same time the particles of tar and of dirt in the gases are caught and precipitated to the bottom of the tank. The heavier tars are drawn off* at intervals into a stor- age tank. The atmospheric condensors consist of a large number of pipes set * I9 *. There * in order * I should like to know how the gases pass from one pipe to another ; do they pass up one pipe and then down the next pipe etc. ? * Do these boards project from the sides of the tank or how are they set on edge ? * (into what ?) * How cam water be pumped from the last tank to the next. I think you mean the water is pumped from one tank to the next tank, but you should use a word which expresses what you have in mind. * first * tamk *. * Omit so that. As the result of the water flowing through a number of tanks Do you mean liquids if so what liquids ? Do you not mean gases ? * pieces of vertically and far enough apart to allow a free circulation of air between them. These.pipes are from forty to fifty feet in height with a diameter of one and a half to two and a half feet,* and * are generally about two hundred in number. The pipes are placed in rows and ar- ranged so that the gas passes through everyone of them. They are arranged however so that any row of pipes may be cut out of the circuit * to be cleaned or repaired. At the bottom of each row of pipes is a long tank to receive the lighter tars and ammonia liquors which have condensed in the pipes.* The scrubbers are huge iron tanks from fifty to one hundred feet in height and ten to twenty-five feet in diameter. These are filled with boards * set on edge and placed very near together. This thoroughly breaks up the gas * and allows full contact with the water which continually runs over these boards. The water * from the last * tank is pumped to the next * and so on * so that* the liquids * are some- what condensed when they leave the scrubbers. The gases are thoroughly washed in these scrubbers and the re- maining tar and ammonia removed. The gas now passes on to the receiver. Let us see the effect of this different * 2O * Where has this fact been shown ? Newer heard of it. Answer (See Banerman's ** Metallurgy of Iron ** p. 267 and the account of some ex- periments on the value of blast furnace gas as a producer of power in the Engineering Magazines of 1898 and others.) * What has this to do with the subject ? * This has absolutely noth- ing to do with the recovery of the by-products of the blast furnace. the gas is condensed. apparatus on the gas. The gas comes from the blast furnace at a temperature of 4oo°—6oo° F, it enters the prelimi- nary washer where the gas is cooled to some extent and much of the heavier tars and dirt It then passes on to the atmospheric condensors is removed. which, in hot weather, are cooled by sprays of cold water. Here the gas is cooled to 7o*, or lower, and the lighter tars and moisture contained in The scrubber removes the remaining ammonia and tar. for heating the air blast, for burning under boilers, or to be used in gas en- gines. The non purified gases from the furnaces cannot be used in the gas engines on account of the tar and also The gas is now ready to be used moisture which is present, and,* as it has been shown that in the gas engine only 94. 2 cubic feet of gas is required to produce one horse power, while by burning under boilers 794 cubic feet are required, it will be seen that in this one case a large saving has been made.* The tar is separated from the am- monia liquors by gravitation. The tar is placed in a still and oils of different These have small values as illuminants except when grades are produced.* used in a lucigen or Other blast lamp, but they are good heat producers. The pitch which is left behind is in demand for making briquettes, and is used for 2 I asphalting and roofing. The ammonia * too vague. liquors are placed in a suitable * still and the ammonia vapors are passed * You should mot assume through sulphuric acid.* This am- that the reader knows how the sulphuric acid acts on the am- . s. • • • i • monia. in chemistry is a valuable fertilizer. From these furnaces all the fuel re- quired by the iron works outside ofthat monium sulphate in addition to its value consumed in the furnace itself is pro- * . Each duced,* each * ton of coal produces twenty-two to twenty-six pounds of am- monium sulphate, one hundred pounds of pitch and about twenty gallons of oil. The cost of one of these plants is considerable but the profits are large. The maim fault with this theme is that you did not stick to your subject. You should begin your theme with ** the gases from " on page one, and end with ** the scrubbers remove the remaining ammonia and tar ” on page four. Of course it is interesting to know what the purified gas is used for, but unless you change your title to : — ** The recovery of the by-products of the blast furnace and some of their uses; *' you must omit the uses of the by-products. You are careless in your use of words ; for instance the word ** last ” at the top of page three, you do not mean the ** last tank ** and so should not use the word ** last.” Most of your sentences contain but one idea. This is very good. But there are a few sentences which have more than one idea, for instance the long sentence at the bottom of page two beginning with : — ** Through this tar, etc.** This sentence should be broken up into at least two sentences one beginning with ** Through this tar,** the other «« At the same time.** The last page of your theme seems as though it were written simply to fill up space. It is better to write four pages than to write five and give the impression that the fifth page is only written to make the theme five pages long. In many places you leave the subject very vague, for instance you say at the bottom of page three ** the gas breaks up.** You should tell how and into what it breaks up. In writing this theme you should tell a great deal more about how the tars are separated and how the oils are produced. For these two products are of much more importance than the gas. You confine yourself too much to the purifying of the gas and not enough to the other by-products. It would be impossible to give here themes to illustrate or to prove all the statements made in this paper ; nor is it needful. One point alone is essential. For the plan pro- 22 posed to be of use it must have adequate foundation in the critical abilities of the students. The results shown above seem to prove that, at least in the classes in which it has been tried, the work has this foundation. The method has proved excellent in its direct bearing upon the teaching of composition, and perhaps its indirect effects may be more valuable still in bringing into closer relation the student's work in the class-room and his experiences in daily life. R. G. VALENTINE. 3 5 TH E SCHOOL REVIEW A JOURNAL OF SECONDARY EDUCATION VOLUME X WHOLE NUMBER 5 M. AY, I9O2 NUMBER 95 THE UNDER GRADUATE STUDY OF ENGLISH COMPOSITION. 1 A YEAR ago the Pedagogical Section of the Modern Language Association investigated the question as to the feasibility of making advanced work in rhetoric (using that term in the broad- est sense) a part of graduate university work counting toward a degree. The report read at the December meeting of last year has just been printed. This year the investigation has been car- ried a step lower down, and has endeavored to test the opinions of competent judges on the question whether the methods of teaching composition now so widely followed are beyond the reach of criticism. With this in view the committee selected, from a brief article in the Century Magazine, a passage representing an attitude of extreme hostility to the plan of compelling students to write fre- quent themes, which should be corrected and returned to the writers. The passage runs as follows : A wide reader is usually a correct writer; and he has reached the goal in the most delightful manner, without feeling the penalty of Adam. . . . . We would not take the extreme position taken by some, that all practice in theme-writing is time thrown away; but after a costly experience of the drudgery that composition work forces on teacher and pupil, we would say * Aepor? of the Aedagogica/ Sectiom, read at the meeting of the Modern Language Association at Harvard University, December 26, I9oI. 3 I7 3 I 8 - 7THÆ SCÆVOO/L ÆÆ VVÆ VV emphatically that there is no educational method at present that involves so enormous an outlay of time, energy, and money, with so correspondingly small a result. . . . . In order to support this with evidence, let us take the experience of a specialist who investigated the question by reading many hundred sophomore compositions in two of our leading colleges, where the natural capacity and previous training of the students were fairly equal. In one college every freshman wrote themes steadily through the year, with an accompaniment of sound instruction in rhetorical principles; zm f/ae o//,er co/- Zege every fres/amam studied SÁaÁspere, Zvät/, abso/ufe/y mo frazmimg in rhetoric ama* zvz?/, ^o £7ractzce 27? comaposztzo?2. A1 co7/275arzso?, of z/ae //.e/zes zw/rzzzem zm : their sophomore year òy these studemts showed that techmica//y the two were fu/Zy on a par. That is weighty and most significant testimony.— 77, e Cem- tury Magazine (Vol. LI, pp. 793, 794). - Comments were requested on the question raised by this quotation. Details of similar experiments, if known, were called for. And, finally, the question was raised as to the possibility of conducting an experiment, or a series of experiments, which should furnish conclusive proof of the value, or the futility, of requiring freshmen to write themes steadily through the year.* The reports that came back in response to these inquiries varied in length from a line or less to elaborate discussions which filled several pages. Taken as a whole, they may be regarded as fairly representative of the present position of col- lege and university teachers of English throughout the country as to the relative importance of reading and theme writing. Harvard University, Yale, Columbia, Cornell, the Universities of Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Chicago, Leland Stanford Jr., Johns Hopkins, Louisiana, and many other institutions have had a voice in the discussion. Our report naturally divides itself into three parts : (I) A summary of opinions on the question raised by the quotation ; (2) an account of experiments similar to that just outlined; (3) a discussion of methods for determining with some accuracy the relativè value of reading and practical work in composition. So much depends in this investigation upon the experiments that we are naturally most curious to learn whether this question has been very generally tested. I therefore take up the second * The circulars of inquiry were issued under the direction of Professor F. N. Scott, of Michigan University, the president of the Pedagogica] Section. ÜÄVZQAEÄ€G® A /) ÜA 7TÆ S7TUV) V OÆ ÆλVG /LVSÆ7 CO/MAOSY7TYOÄV 3I9 division first. Unfortunately, most of those who answered the questions in the circular of inquiry knew of no other such experi- ments. Some teachers thought they had tested the matter by noting that students in their classes in composition wrote better at the end of a course than at the beginning, or by observing that the winners of prizes for literary work in the various college publications were almost without exception students who had had systematic training in composition. One professor of rhetoric* holds that he has proved the falsity of the position taken in the quotation, and he sends on a printed collection of unedited college themes, which he offers to compare with a collection of articles written by college under- graduates who have not had drill in theme-writing. One instructor had been led to the conclusion in his own classes that the most omnivorous readers are often careless writers, because they write as they read, without much thought. We have, however, a few accounts of positive experiments. One of our pedagogical psychologists writes : I am getting short themes written in class from high schools in different parts of the country, with the intention of comparing the quality of the work with the nature of the instruction given. In some cases there is regular theme-writing, in Others not. In some cases there is much required reading of English classics, in others little. The results of his work are not yet tabulated, but they ought to be of considerable importance, if sufficient safeguards are employed. - The next witness has experimented only upon himself, but he has had " some convincing personal experience." He says: I have published several books on the subject of rhetoric, and I consid- ered myself fairly expert in the art of composition, besides trying to cultivate a sense of style. I never had instruction, but obtained whatever proficiency I had from reading and the teaching of composition. Last summer I was printing a book on a literary subject, and the proof-sheets passed through the hands of a friend who is also a teacher of rhetoric. Scarcely a paragraph 6r sentence was left as originally written. I trembled for the result of such * For a variety of reasons it has beem thought desirable to suppress the mames of the writers of the individual reports and to allow the opinions and facts to speak for themselves, Much care has been taken to secure a really representative expression of opinion. Names will, however, be furnished on application. 32o 7THÆ SCHVOOZ ÆÆ VVÆ VV anxious revision. But now the book has been said, by several competent judges, to be written in a pleasing and unaffected style ! I honestly believe that this practical instruction I obtained has yielded certain and important results which my reading never has yielded and never can yield. This case is not quite parallel to a student's case, but, as being in the nature of expert testimony, should be worth something. The three following are the only reported experiments similar to the one mentioned in the quotation ; and these must be con- fessed to be not altogether conclusive. Says one : I have tried a similar experiment twice, for a period of three months. I found that the study of Shakspere influenced the vocabulary of many stu- dents the next quarter, but did not affect their prose style otherwise. A Harvard instructor writes : The only experiment of the kind I know of was in the comparison of a cer- tain number of papers written in a course in literature at Yale College with a number of similar papers written in a similar course at Harvard. Of three or four of our men here who examined the papers, all but one agreed that the papers written at Harvard were better written, and showed the result of the time given to English composition. This is presumably the experiment described in our quota- tion. - Lastly, we have the following: In one of our eastern colleges, about two years ago, the course in rhetoric and theme-writing was transferred from the sophomore to the freshman year. As a consequence, the sophomores had no course in rhetoric and theme- writing during the first year of the new plan. Nevertheless their writing showed in the junior year no important difference from that of the succeeding junior class. Having myself read the essays of both classes, I may affirm that a slight improvement in sentence-structure, and a little more freedom from glaring faults of taste and method, were the only noticeable distinc- tions. I fail to see that the later class commanded a style a whit more resourceful or effective. In short, the result was negative, not positive. And I venture to say that this negative result — of mechanical correctness, not real correctness—is all that is obtained in teaching unread students in any college of the United States. Some sympathy with the conclusions of the writer of the paper in the Century is expressed in several of the reports; but, taken as a whole, the reports reveal a pretty general skepticism concerning the conclusiveness of the experiment therein described. One experiment, it is urged, is not enough to estab- lish a conclusion so far- reaching in its results. {/vDERGRAZ UA 7TÆ S7'U7) V OA7 ÆΛVG L/SÆ COMPOSV7T7OÄV 32 I Evidently, after this showing, anyone who is seeking an unclaimed subject for investigation has a well-nigh virgin field to work in. This leads us to a discussion of the possibility of settling the question by experiment. A considerable number of teachers hold that the matter lies outside the range of conclu- sive experiment, owing to the difficulty of taking all the factors into consideration, and one volunteers the opinion that pedagogy is running mad and needs an infusion of common-sense. Some think experiments to be possible, but very undesirable for the students. We do not [says one] tie up a student's arm and then read him anatomy; we exercise the arm. We have no business to tie up his writing-hand for a year and expect him to absorb technique of any sort through the skin. One suggests a test course, half of a large class doing writ- ing, and the other half receiving instruction in literature, the experiment to be continued for two years. To another such an experimentseems possible at a very large institution, but too risky for a small one. Some think the case for composition already made out, and the experiment therefore needless. “ Exper- iments to determine whether freshmen should profit by practice in composition are futile, but experiments to ascertain suitable methods of instruction should prove of the highest value.” “ Results,” however, “ cannot be obtained by a condensed report of many opinions where all are at sea, but through an investiga- tion of the essential principles and conditions of effective work." Many of the suggestions go no further than to propose the division of a class into sections. One section of freshmen could be admitted immediately to a required course in English liter- ature without a prerequisite course in composition. At the close of the year these freshmen could be tested and the results com- pared with the written work of the freshmen who had taken the prescribed course in composition. But this plan, it is urged, would interrupt the regular course of instruction and be unadvis- able, because the results would necessarily be uncertain and unscientific. A more elaborate scheme, but adopting essentially the same method, is the following : 322 . <… ZTHÆ SCHOOL Æ Æ VVÆ VV Take a freshman class of a hundred or more students. Let this class be conducted for a few weeks as a class in English literature, and let the study be of poetry rather than of prose, which might serve as a model. Call for weekly short papers and for one or two essays in which emphasis is laid upon thought, not upon form. Upon the information thus obtained, divide the class as soon as possible (in two months at the outside, sooner if practicable) into four sections, A, B, C, and D. Let sections A and B contain the upper half of the class—better still, the upper third, or even the upper quarter— the grading to be based solely upon the work in this single subject up to the time of the division of the class. -» Let Section A study English literature (prose and poetry) during the rest of the academic year ; let Section B study rhetoric. At the end of the year it will probably be found that there is little difference between the members of the two sections as regards skill in writing. Each section will furnish some of the best writers in the class. - Let Sections C and D (the lower half, or, better still, the lower two-thirds or three-quarters of the class) be treated in the same way. Let Section C study English literature ; let Section D study rhetoric. At the end of the year it will probably be found that there is a marked difference between the members of the two sections as regards skill in writing. A few members of Section C will write as well as those in Section D, perhaps, even, as well as the average members of Section A or Section B: there must inevitably be some mistakes in grading. The members of Section D (rhetoric) will, how- ever, write with more accuracy, with more freedom from the faults that abound in the manuscript of nearly all students who have not received special instruction in English composition. Especially will this be true if the mem- bers of Section D have been required to do some reading of good prose in connection with their study of rhetoric. My own classes are required to make an analytic study of nineteenth-century prose in connection with their study of rhetoric. A suggestion that might be adopted without too great an expenditure of time, and without interfering with the work of students, is the following : v. It is proposed that a collation be made of the data to be found in the registrar's offices in our colleges and universities with reference to the influence ' of various lines of study upon the use of English. ** I now have several people at work,” says the writer, “ upon the data in the office of the registrar in our own university, with the end in view to see if I can get any evidence relating to the effect of classical and other fields of special study upon the àpprecia- tion and writing of English. I am taking the records for a number of years of students in the different courses and comparing these with reference to their grades in English to see if the figures reveal anything. Of course there ÜÄV/)AEÆGARA DUA 7TÆ S7TÜZ) V OÆ ÆλVG ZASÄ7 COMPOS/7T/OAW 323 are difficulties of a serious character surrounding the investigation, since stu- dents come with different kinds and qualities of preparation, and those who elect science often do not have a chance to show the influence of their scientific training upom their English before they pass out of this study. But I still think something of value may be gained, and I wish the work could be repeated in the various universities, and taken up also in the high Schools. I mean to examine the records in our registrar's office of pupils graduating out ' of different courses in the high schools and compare their standings in English. This may perhaps give us more satisfactory results than the exam- ination of the records of the university students. The most extensive outline of a proposed experiment is the following. It comes from a well-known investigator in the Teachers' College of Columbia University. He criticises the experiment described in the quotation as '' extraordinarily care- lessly devised and lazily administered," and goes on to say : . . . Even conclusive proof can be obtained as to the exact amount of the value of composition work in improving the ability to write English, in case there is such. If, for instance, five or six or more colleges would split the freshman class into two sections, dividing them at random (alphabetically), and would give one section theme-writing and the other a reading course, data could readily be obtained that would settle the question. The data should be four or more themes written during the first two weeks of the year by all the students, and a similar number written during the last two weeks of the year. To make the test valid requires (I) that the students be representative of the general class “ college students," and not peculiar in any respect; (2) that there be enough of them to reduce to a negligible quantity the chance variation in quality of the work of individuals which occurs in theme-writing as in anything else ; (3) that the instruction in theme-writing and in the read- ing course be of the samie relative grade of efficiency (e. g., if the instructors in the theme courses are such that out of a hundred college instructors picked at random 27 per cent. would be superior to them, then the instructors in the reading courses must also average at the same percentile grade). (1) Would be satisfied by picking students at random from colleges picked at random. (2) Would be satisfied, I am fairly sure, by four hundred individuals in each of the two classes, “ students with a year's theme work '' and ** students without that, but with a year's reading course in its place." Probably two hundred in each class would do to get a result accurate within I o per cent.'' (3) Would be satisfied by the random selection of pairs of instructors at approximately the same rate of salary in the case of each pair. 324 * 7THVÆ SCÆVOO / ARÆ VVÆ VV It would be possible to answer the question even without splitting classes into two sections, though less surely and less easily. ι . If eight or more colleges now giving regular theme courses would pro- vide the data mentioned above, and eight or more colleges giving approxi- mately the same quality of general work would do the same, but replace their theme courses by reading courses during the year, the data would serve. The matter of gaining an exact measure of the results of the year's work in the case of both sorts of training, and of comparing these measures, is a ' very elementary problem in statistics. If ten fairly trustworthy critics of English writing, e. g., assistants in rhetoric in colleges, and four experts, e. £, editors or college professors, would each read 3oo themes, or if twenty assistants and eight experts would each read 1 5o themes, and if the expenses of correspondence were defrayed, anyone skilled in handling educational statistics would probably be willing to work up a report on the data and risk his reputation upon its accuracy. • • There are means of getting precise measures of the improvement of the ability to write good English ; measures that will not be invalidated by per- sonal bias, or be so vague as not to advance us beyond common-sense opinion. It is impössible for me to take the time to describe in more detail how the test themes should be obtained, e. g., whether all should write on the same subject in some cases or not ; whether a time limit should be set in some cases or not; whether more than four themes are needed or not. If one knew just what opportunity could be granted by teachers of English in the colleges for any such experiment, one could plan its details with surety. The only difficulty in the world is to get the data. If colleges would turn over to me the data I mention and money to hire men to read the themes, I could get the answer in a month. The exact statistical treatment is perfectly possible. • We are now prepared to take up the discussion of the ques- tion suggested by the quotation from the article in the Centumy Magazine, The comments upon the quotation are not easily summarized in a few words. But they generally emphasize the fact that composition is an art rather that a science, and there- fore can be mastered only by practice; and this preferably under competent instruction. They point out important aspects of work in composition that may or may not co-exist along with technical correctness, such as unity of conception, logical devel- opment of a theme, proportion of parts. These and many other matters that have to do with the work of the accomplished prose- writer are, they urge, the very things that trouble us most, even UVDERGA ADUATE STUDY OF ÆAVGLISH COMPOSITION 325 when we have read widely and carefully for years, and have given anxious thought to the task of expressing ourselves with clearness and precision. I should, however, be very unfair to the contributors to this discussion were I to attempt in a word or two to summarize their arguments. I must therefore be content to indicate thus briefly their general drift, and allow as many as possible to speak for themselves. ®» As a matter of fairness I present first the views of those who are in general agreement with the position of the writer of the article in the Cemtury. Says one : - I hesitate to express an opinion which is still unsettled in my own mind. I am, however, somewhat strongly inclined to sympathize with the writer from whom you quote. Of the two, I feel sure that reading is better training than writing ; but I do not believe that either will help a student to write well if he has to be driven to it. I think, therefore, that the first aim of the teacher of English to underclassmen in college should be to interest them in what they read. If he succeeds in this, they will perhaps afterward be ready to profit by instruction in the principles of rhetoric ; if he does not succeed in the first task, I think the second is in most cases foredoomed. I have known of men who got little pleasure or profit from their instruction in English literature, yet learned a*good deal from their later work in rhetoric; but in my experience such cases have been decidedly exceptional. Of the same general tenor is the following: Wide reading is certainly, in my opinion, much more valuable than study of the text-book and practice in theme- writing — in the proportion of ten to one more valuable. For, by reading, the student attains a vocabulary, an . array of phrases and idioms, and a notion of the qualities of style. Not one ' of these benefits, it strikes me, has ever been attained by the text-book and the required essay. Teaching English composition to a student who is unread is much like trying to make bricks without straw. Says another: The writer seems to me to have overstated his case. I should agree with him, however, that in many of our colleges there is too much theme-writing. For Some years I have had a section of freshmen in English, and I feel strongly that the daily themes which by the custom of the institution I must require of them, are not only unproductive of good, but by their monotony they depress the student, and render him less capable of genuine pleasure in composition. I hope for a change, but I trust that it will not be quite so radical as that suggested by this quotation. My own plan would be to give 326 • * 7THÆ SCHVOO/ ÆÆ VVÆ VV two-thirds or three-fourths of the time to reading, and to require a few themes. These would give the student a chance to try his hand, and should be criti- cised with reference to matters in which reading is not a sure help. Apart from some very brief expressions of opinion, on the whole favoring the extreme position taken in our quotation, this is nearly all I have to offer on the one side. On the other hand, the opponents of this position furnish an embarrassing mass of material, of which I can present but a small part. Says one: Looked at theoretically, the proposition that a pupil can learn to write good English by reading Shakspere, with no practice in composition, is as absurd as to maintain that one may become a good pianist by listening systematically to good piano-playing; or that one may become a good skater or a good painter by watching the performances of those who excel in these arts. I believe that the great fundamental error which lies at the bottom of our prevalent unsuccessful teaching of English is that of considering English composition as a science, and not as an art. If it is a science, then the com- paratively easy method of sound instruction in rhetorical principles will be successful. But if it is an art, then, like every other art, it can be mastered only by long and faithful practice. • Another says: I do not think that there is any necessary connection between wide read- ing and good writing. I have myself known mature men, scholars of excep- tionally wide reading in many languages, who wrote in a style not absolutely incorrect indeed, but exceedingly dull and difficult. Wide reading forms the style and enlarges the vocabulary of the born writer, the man who, like Stevenson, reads with an instinctive feeling for style, in its broad effects and its niceties of phrase. But such a reader turns naturally from reading to writing, using what he has gained from the style of others, unconsciously or (as in Stevenson's case again) by a deliberate reproduction. Such cases manifestly give no support to the generalization in your quota- tiom. The Stevensons hardly enter into the problem of the instructor in English. The fine appreciation of style in others is naturally and commonly associated with the power and probably with the desire to write, but this conscious and discriminating appreciation of style is rare. Thousands read widely who neither possess nor acquire it; reading for the matter and obliv- ious of the manner. In such cases wide reading has but little or no effect on style. } - In general I should say, that the art of writing (so far as it can be learned at all) must be learned by writing, as the art of painting must be learned in the studio rather than by looking at pictures in a gallery. Practice in either art should begin early. As to the experiment cited, it seems permissible to ask, if the results claimed were gained by a study of Shakspere, why give ÖVAW/) ÆÆGARAZ) ÜA 7TÆ S7TÜZ) J^ OA^ ÆΛVG Z/SÆ7 CO/MAOS/7TVOAV 327 up reading for writing in the sophomore year, or the junior year, or the senior? If the ability to write will come by reading, a very burdensome occu- pation will be gone. e - It is important to note that, in the judgment of a Harvard instructor— - . the opinion quoted from the Cemtury is not borne out by the experience of the department of English at Harvard. We find a marked difference between the work of the freshman and sophomore classes in English composition, a difference which shows that the writing of the same man before the course in freshman composition and after it, is technically of very different quality. With one exception all the members of the department who teach English composition agree in this opinion. « Objection to the position taken by the writer of the article in the Cemtury is raised in the following report on the ground of psychology: There is a great difference between (1) interpreting visual forms to get their meaning-equivalents, and (2) employing these forms to express one's own thoughts. A simple illustration of this is found in the case of adults who read Shakspere and who enjoy him, but who could not possibly constructa half-dozen sentences on the Shaksperian plan, because their relations with their author have not involved this factor of reproduction of his phraseology and peculiar modes of expression. Then to proceed on the plan of having pupils read widely without the necessity of writing will not accomplish as much as the quotation claims for it. But if occasion be made for the pupil to convey his thoughts in the happiest and most effective manner, the best preparation therefor is unquestionably to have him brought into vital, sympa- thetic connection with models in which these qualities are embodied. An individual will grow in the power of literary expression mainly by the more or less close imitation of good models presented in his literary environment; just as in the formation of character in general it is far more effective to put one in the presence of a concrete, living personality exhibiting certain desir- able qualities of conduct than to give him a program of formal rules setting forth how he should behave himself. One can imitate an act more easily than he can transform into execution a verbal description of the act. So the life, the spirit, the effectiveness at any rate of one's linguistic expression must come, it seems to me, from his reading rather than from his formal study. But still formal, technical things must often be learned in a formal, tech- nical way. A pupil may read ever so widely and still go on using the split infinitive in his own writing. Again, some of the larger characteristics of good expression will often be. missed by even the widest reader if his attention has not been especially directed to such matters. For instance, I have in 328 7TÆRÆ SCÆVOO/L ÆÆ VVÆ VV mind now a man who has pastured in all the richest literary fields, but who frequently presents an anti-climax in his written performances. The fact is that most readers are interested in*the content of what they are reading, and not in the forms of expression, and so they never get hold of these latter so as to use them. Without doubt much experience will give a certain kind of consciousness of things technical, yet it is certain that in some cases, at any rate, this consciousness will not be vivid enough to have a controlling influ- ence upon the individual's writing. It must be remembered that the pro- cesses involved in motor execution are not immediately connected with the processes of interpretation of visual symbols, so when a man takes a pencil ' in his hand it does not follow by any means that the experience gained through the eye will determine the activities of the fingers. «» This connection is to be established by a certain amount of attention which will weld together the graphic and other language processes, and the initiative in turning the attention upon the proper things must often be taken by some one other than the learner himself. Emphasizing the same general thought in a different fashion is the following: Though the average student may be a wide reader, he is certainly a careless reader ; he will never acquire a good style by unconscious imitation. In every college are to be found students who spell badly, who punctuate indifferently, whose diction is meager and inaccurate, who have little feeling foridiomatic phrasing or for sentence-structure, who will write an entire essay in one or two paragraphs, or who will make a paragraph of each sentence ; so blind have they been to the examples of correct usage that have been before their eyes ever since they learned to read. In the matter of form, of constructing an essay that shall have an organic relation of parts, even very good students may be deplorably weak; in fact, one may have a good command of language, yet fail entirely to write about his subject. I quote an instructive passage from the Auzobiograff/y of Philip Gilbert Hamerton : “ I offered two or three papers to the * Westminster,' which were declined, and then I wrote to the editor asking him if he would be so good as to explain, for my own benefit and guidance, what were the reasons for their rejection. His answer came, and was both kind and judi- cious. ' An article,' he told me, 'ought to be an organic whole, with a pre- arranged order and proportion amongst its parts. There ought to be a beginning, a middle, and an end.' This was a very good and much-needed lesson, for at that time I had no notion of a synthetic ordommamce of parts.” This lesson, I submit, might have been given by a college teacher; but a teacher of that kind Hamerton never had; and I admit that the lessons that are given by an editor — when he is willing to give them—are more deeply imprinted in the mind, and are more completely learned. Certainly this lesson was an important one for the youth, who— whatever his merit as a UΛVZDÆ Â® GARA/)UA 7TÆ S7TUVQ Y OÄ7 ÆΛVG ZASAHV COMÆOS/7T7OAV 329 writer may be — eventually became a successful editor and the author of a dozen or more of interesting books. If the college cannot help the student in the matter of English Composi- tion, why expect the preparatory school to succeed ? Or why stop there ? Is it right to place so much drudgery upon the grammar and primary schools ? Where is the line to be drawn ? At spelling ? or punctuation ? or at the ability to construct sentences that are grammatical ? Or shall we leave everything that comes under the head of English Composition to be learned by unconscious imitation, by absorption, and devote our energies to the teach- ing of Shakspere ? The question really resolves itself into this : Can instructors in English Compositión accomplish anything with their students ? I believe that even the dullest students can be taught enough to justify the time and the nervous energy that are expended by their instructors, that much can be done toward the correction of faults, something even in the direction of positive excellences. I freely admit that this work involves a considerable outlay of time, energy, and money; but I doubt whether the result is correspondingly any smaller than is the case with certain other subjects. In colleges in which mathematics is required throughout the freshman year, can the instructors felicitate themselves upon the attainments of the lower half of the class, especially upon those of the lowest quarter of the class ? And do not the members of this lowest quarter hold on to the little English that they have learned, and get more profit from it, than the members of the lowest quarter in mathematics get from their little learning ? One of the most elaborate of the reports is the following, which covers a large number of the questions suggested by the quotation, and is in harmony with the spirit of many briefer statements of opinion : Since the quotation seems to imply a confusing distinction between rhet- oric and composition, let me say that I understand the topic for discussion to be the college study of prose composition and diction, both theory (as in manuals, lectures, and analysis of good prose) and practice (as by the writing of themes regularly for regular criticism). This study, by whatever name it be called, is not uniformly valuable in allits parts. For first, dictiom (?. e., all that relates to words and phrases separately and to their harmony) cannot, to any great degree, be directly inculcated. The development of a man's vocab- ulary being the development of his experience, a theme-reader's criticism of it is limited usually to correction and general suggestion, î. e., is largely nega- tive. This is the less unfortunate since the best means toward range, pre- cision, and force of phrase is reading. I should have thought this a truism, if it had not been so solemnly affirmed in the quotation. And I have to add only (I) that “ wide " reading is not solikely to be so productive as deep read- ing ; and (2) that just here courses in rhetoric and courses in literature, instead of clashing, may complement each other. 33o 7HE SCHOO L Æ Æ VVÆ VV Assuming, then, that in general (it would by no means always be true of a given case) diction may be improved as well by reading as by writing, we have still unanswered the whole question of composition in the literal sense; z. e., of construction. But this is the proper domain of rhetoric. Therefore the fallacy in the inference quoted on the circular is in arguing mainly beside the point. The real question is in effect this: Can the average student learn as well how to make his own writing lucid and forcible in construction by reading the best poems, plays, and essays, as by practice and criticism directed toward his specific ends ? Remembering that the student may do both, and in fact often does both concurrently, observe that composition may be roughly divided into the Zogica/ sort, the sort that proceeds from proposition to proposition, and the artistic sort, the sort whose progress is not measured by propositions. The two sorts overlap, especially in what we call essays, but the distinction is real. Now the practice of the latter sort, the artistic or literary, is the affair of the few. The study of it in masterpieces covers almost the whole range of college courses in English literature, and I sup- pose we all agree to this as part of any scheme of liberal education ; but the practice, the composing, for instance, of short stories, is the affair of the few, and these few precisely the ones to whom teaching, whether of rhetoric or of literature, is least important. That college courses in rhetoric are useful even to these is sufficiently established by experience : but the point is that such courses must be a small part numerically of college work in rhetoric. We are brought, then, by exclusion to this important fact, so important, it seems to me, thatit ought to be made cardinal in our arrangement of courses : zÀe magm business of rhetoric zvzt/, f/ae /z/zdem graduate mass zs zo teacλ δy ρre- 'cept, ôy ama/yszs of masterÃîeces, ôy examp/e, Zogica? compositiom. To this I should add a corollary : It is also clearly within the province of rhetoric as we now use the word, to teach artistic composition; but since this is the ground where, courses called “ rhetoric” and courses called “litera- ture” overlap, the time devoted to it by a given group of courses in rhetoric should depend upon the number and character of the courses in literature ; should depend, that is, on the particular college. In this regard colleges vary, and will doubtless continue to vary, widely, both in the extension given to the terms /r/aetoric, Eng/zs/, and /itemratumre, and in the actual proportion of hours given, on the one hand mainly to reading, and on the other hand mainly to writing. In short, the teaching of rhetoric may profitably spend on the artis- tic side so much time as seems wise in a given college to complement the teaching of literature; so much, furthermore, as will give to any student the opportunity for consecutive criticism of any artistic form he shows himself capable of pursuing; but in every college the teaching of rhetoric must devote its main time to the training of the average student on the logical side. Finally, let me explain what I wish to include in that term logical. Argu- mentation, of course, debate, and other kinds of speechmaking. Persuasion must always remain for most men the main skill sought by rhetoric. Its {V/VZ)ÆÆGÆA Z) UA 7TÆ S7TÜZ) V OÆ ÆAVG Z/SÆ CO/MAOS/7TVO/V 33 I importance is not in the least diminished by such changes in outward form as have ensued upon modern conditions. But the term logical is meant to include also what the books call exposition, either as subsidiary to persuasion or as independent and self-sufficing; in a word, to include essays as well as speeches. Either may or may not be literary in diction ; both are logical in construction. Logical progress, in the whole and in every part, the lucid conduct of a theme to its conclusion, is attainable by every student through courses in rhetoric; it is attainable, without immensely great labor, in no other way; and through courses in the history of literature or through “ wide" reading without practice it is not attainable at all. “ Reading,” in the sense of logical analysis, the study of the whole framework and of each part, is of course directly contributory ; but this kind of “ reading'' is confined practi- cally to courses in rhetoric. This logical grasp, this bringing of knowledge to bear, which is one of the most fundamentally valuable results of a college education, is subserved more directly, I believe, than in any other single way, by the teaching of rhet- oric. Essentially different from all other courses in seeking directly a skill, an ability, rhetoric may thus be made to serve in particular each course on which it depends for material, and in general the great object of all the courses together. Here, it seems to me, is its main claim to a place in any scheme of college education. Whatever was once meant to be included in the idea of logic as the *' organon,'' our “organon " in college today is rhetoric. To expressions of opinion so able and so complete it is quite unnecessary that this committee add anything. The case for reading as a sufficient independent means of teaching composi- tion has evidently, in the judgment of most college teachers, not yet been made out. The burden of proof, therefore, still rests upon the advocates of reading as against theme-writing. No one doubts the value of reading as an aid to composition, and most of us will probably agree that the constant endeavor to draw something out of nothing is as dismal a failure as the attempt to get up steam in an empty boiler. On the other hand, to rely wholly upon reading as a means of reaching the rhetori- cal goal is, to quote the picturesque phrase of one report, about as satisfactory as trying to walk on One leg instead of two. WILLIAM E. M EAD, Secretary of the Pedagogical Section of the Modern Language Association. WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY, Middletown, Conn. ?, THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH.*. I. IN THE ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. LIST NO. I: QUESTIONS FOR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. I. What subjects studied in the primary and grammar schools do you include under the term Eng/is/., or Lamguage? .* 2. How many hours of the week are devoted to each of these subjects in the first grade ? in the third ? in the sixth ? in the eighth (or ninth)? 3. What do you regard as the chief aims of the English work viewed as a whole ? ' 4. In addition to the natural influences and opportunities afforded by the schoolroom for improving the children's speech, is there any organized effort made in your school to improve the spoken English of the pupils— (a) as to quality of voice, (5) as to clearness of articulation, (c) as to common illiteracies of speech ? 5. Do you have spoken composition work to any extent ? 6. Is the written composition work of the earlier years especially designed to cultivate accuracy, or faciJi£y? 7. Have you any opinions on the teaching of spelling that would be of service to others who are struggling with the spelling problem ? In teaching spelling, do you believe in making an especial point of syllabication ? Do you approve of oral spelling, or do you think that all spelling recitations should be in writing ? - 8. Are especial details of written form (such as the comma in a series, quotation marks, etc.) assigned to given grades for especially thorough study? 9. What proportion of the composition work is examined by the teacher? What proportion do the pupils revise without rewriting ? What proportion do they rewrite ? I o. Are the same standards of excellence insisted upon in all written exercises, whether they are or are not regarded as “ compositions'' ? I I. What are the Sources of supply for composition subjects ? I 2. Are your pupils encouraged to write often with the thought of a specific audience ? I 3. Do you ever interchange compositions with other Schools for mutual criticism by the pupils ? I 4. Are themes often read before the class by pupil or by teacher ? 1 5. How large a proportion of the reading supplied in regular and sup- plementary *' reading books " deserves to be called literature, — in the third grade ? the sixth grade ? the eighth (ninth) grade ? * Report of Committee on Methods of Teaching and Studying English, presented to the New England Association of Teachers of English, by the Committee on Meth- ods of Teaching and Studying English, March, I 902. 332 Æ VG Z/SÆ /ΛV 7THÆ Æ ZÆÆMÆΛV7AÄ€ Y SCHOO/LS 333 , * i6. Apart from the literature supplied in the reading books, is there a definite program in literature for each grade, or is each teacher left to her own judgment in the choice of literature ? If there is a definite program in literature, we shall be very grateful for as full a statement of it as you may find it convenient to send. 17. Does the study of literature in your schools include the following kinds of work ? (a) Reading literature to the class by the teacher ; (ò) read- ing literature aloud in class by pupils ; (c) reading literature at home, to be discussed in class ; (d) telling stories by the teacher; (e) telling stories by the children ; (f) recitation of poetry by the pupils? 3. 18. Assuming that the main effort of the teacher is to interest the pupils in what the author has to say, is any effort made to make them conscious and appreciative of how the author says it — in the third grade? the sixth ? the eighth (ninth)? I 9. In what lines is there the greatest need of improvement in the English work ? �* - 2o. How, in your judgment, may such improvement be effected ? Your committee has decided that it is practically impossible to report upon all the phases of English work at this meeting, and proposes to discuss the subject of expression, including both spoken and written English, omitting thereby an equally important if not more important matter, and to many of us a more interesting matter, the teaching of literature, except in so far as the teaching of literature must be considered in dealing with the question of the pupil's expression. - As you are aware, three series of questions on the teaching of English were sent out by your committee about the middle of January. These questions were sent not only to members of the association, but to elementary and secondary schools, both public and private, throughout New England, and to colleges in and outside of New England. We have taken it for granted that the purpose of the association is not to accumulate statistics but to learn of one another and from outsiders how better work may be done in the teaching of English, therefore we have attempted to secure information from only alimited number of representative persons. My own questions were sent to seventy persons con- nected with elementary school work, forty of whom are outside of this association. The list includes superintendents of schools, principals of schools, teachers connected with training schools, and teachers in elementary schools. Forty replies have been 334 7THÆ SCAZOO Z Æ Æ VVÆ VV received, fifteen from members and twenty-five from persons out- side of the association. A number of the replies have been unexpectedly full and valuable, and all have been useful and suggestive. I feel greatly indebted to my correspondents for their courtesy and assistance. It would be entirely unscientific to assume that from these replies we can know what is being done throughout New England; the replies, however, have this value: they call attention to fruitful lines of endeavor which may well be imitated, to errors which are to be avoided, and to debatable points which, it is hoped, may be discussed by this association. The province of a committee on methods is 1n itself a debat- able question, inasmuch as the term methods is variously under- stood and frequently abused. In this report I shall use the term to signify the means employed in attempting to realize the purposes of the English work. This immediately suggests that the whole question of method depends upon a much more important and more fundamental matter— the question of pur- pose or aim. The shallowness and ineffectualness of many so- called methods are due, I am convinced, to the inadequacy of the teacher's conception of purpose. To be specific, a teacher of average ability who sees with absolute clearness that one pur- pose for which the state employs her is that she may teach children from illiterate homes to use English intelligibly, who sees it so clearly that she weighs her own work in the balance and finds it wanting when she fails to attain this end, may be trusted to find intelligent and effectual methods; whereas the teacher who fails to see this objective point clearly may use the exercises elaborated in language books and may imitate the methods of successful teachers — and all with no results worth the name. I do not wish to imply for a moment that method is a matter of slight importance ; it is a matter of grave importance; but it should take its true place in subordination to purpose. In view of this relation between purpose and method, I thought it best, in sending out my questions; to ask about the purposes of the English work before making inquiries in regard to the methods. It seemed necessary, however, to understand AZAVG Z/SÆV /Λ/ 7TÆVÆ Æ ÆÆÆMÆΛV7TAÆ V SCAZOO ZS 335 first what each writer included under the term “ English,'' or “ language." In answer to this inquiry I find every variety of opinion, from the one extreme of including the entire curriculum under the term “ English '' to the other of making the term “ English " synonymous with composition. There is a correspond- ing variety in the statements as to the purposes of the English work ; but a few of the answers point out distinctly what seems to your committee to be the twofold purpose of the English work : the first is a practical purpose — the ability to handle the mother-tongue, to read it, to speak it, to write it with such intelligence that a certain independence is secured, a power to understand and to be understood. Now it is perfectly possible to develop this practical power of interpretation and expression without developing a love for literature ; a person may speak and read and write with intelligence without being a lover of good books ; here, then, we have the second aim, spiritual rather than practical in its import, far-reaching in its ultimate influence on life. The far-sighted English teacher works with all these ends in view ; every exercise that goes by the name of English in her program has for its primary purpose one or more of these aims. Such a teacher constantly judges the efficacy of her work from this standpoint of purpose. “ Do my pupils speak better, read more intelligently, write more easily, do they choose and read good books?'' — these are the practical tests which she applies to her own work. Before considering the remaining questions, a word of explanation is necessary. Two most essential features of the elementary English work are not touched upon in these inquiries, the methods of teaching beginners how to read and the methods of teaching formal grammar. The first subject was omitted because, although one of the most essentially interesting subjects to the primary teacher and to the student of general education, it is not a question which touches closely the interests of an association such as this. Grammar was omitted because it is too large a subject to be considered in so limited an investigation. Questions 4 and 5 deal with speech-training. A child's equipment in speech when he enters the elementary school is 336 7THÆ SCHOO Z. A&AE VVÆ VV on an entirely different plane from his equipment in any Other phase of the English work. He is not able to read his mother-tongue, and he is not able to write it ; he may or may not have begun to develop a taste for good literature, for he may have come from a home where Mother Goose, the old fairy tales, and the Bible stories are known and loved, or he may have come from a home barren of these and of kindred joys ; buthe invariably enters the primary school with considerable development in the matter of speech ; he has a large vocabulary, when one con- siders how brief a space of time has been devoted to accumulat- ing it, and certain habits of construction, articulation, voice, inflection, etc., that immediately individualize him. Here is the English teacher's most perplexing problem. By means of wise instruction she may teach a child how to read and write, she may even cultivate his unformed literary taste by giving him the best only — the best for a child, that is — but in the matter of speech, she must take him as he is, with all his imperfections on his head ; she must not only form new habits, she must break up a score of old ones ; the good must not be added to the bad, it must displace the bad. In answering the question, which occurs at the end of the circular, as to the lines in which there is the greatest need of improvement, especial emphasis is laid on spoken English. It is a satisfaction to find that this need is recognized, for the recognition of an evil is the first step toward its reform. In my own experience the work done in this direction by our best teachers of English is less systematized and less effective than in any other phase of the English work. And yet the answers to questions 4 and 5 are very encouraging. Out of the thirty-three answers received, twenty-four say yes to both questions, and some writers add, in answer to the inquiry in regard to common illiteracies, “ constant effort is made.'' Now, constant effort is not organized effort, and I have sometimes suspected that our failure is due, in part at least, to this constant, faithful, nagging effort. *' The correction that does not correct'' is a familiar experience here: a child is guilty of some solecism in his speech, the teacher amiably supplies the correct expression, perhaps the ÆÄVG ZZSÆ /ΛV 7ΤΗΣ ÆÆMÆΛV7TA ® Y SCÆVOO/ZS 337 child repeats it mechanically, perhaps he does not repeat it at all ; the lesson proceeds, the next day the same thing occurs, the constant effort of the faithful teacher is renewed, and so on to the end of the chapter. Now, this is both unphilosophical and unworthy. An organ- ized effort in this matter implies at least three things that may be done in any school: First, a classified list may be made of the faults most common among the pupils ; second, although no teacher should ignore any of the faults mentioned, to each teacher may be assigned certain errors against which a special crusade may be carried on while the pupils are under her charge ; third, every teacher needs to see clearly what means are at her disposal, and needs to use these means intelligently. These are the obvious means available in the schoolroom for improving and developing the children's speech — environment, instruction, practice. Because our speech is so largely the result of our environment, some enthusiasts have believed that nothing is necessary in the schoolroom but a wholesome and stimulating environment ; and I agree heartily with them that this is the first essential. Given a teacher whose speech is first interesting and then accurate, given a generous supply of good reading and a wide range of wholesome interests, and the speech of the children must inevitably be benefited in many ways : their vocabulary must increase, their constructions must improve, their articulation and inflection even may become more culti- vated ; but this is not enough, as experience has often proved. There are two types of people whose speech is not reformed by environment: first, those who are naturally oblivious to all forms of speech, who notice no difference between their own speech and that of others, who are unaware that they make errors; and, second, those who have a few bad habits of speech fixed by so many years of practice that, although they may know better theoretically, they make these particular errors unconsciously. Let me cite two examples that have come under my observation recently : One is a girl who came from an illiterate home, but who, untii the age of fourteem, was in school under the charge of teachers who spoke good English ; at that age she left school- 338 7THÆ SCHVOO L Ae Æ VVÆ VV and took up an occupation that carried her from family to family ; as she was an absolutely trustworthy and friendly soul she was brought into close relations with people of much culti- vation and refinement; her opportunities for hearing delightful English were unusual ; she was very observing in many ways, and in her topics of conversation and her knowledge of the ways of refined living soon began to show the result of her environ- ment : but her speech remained practically unchanged, full of the most glaring illiteracies. It was quite evident that she needed something besides environment. The other was a girl who had excellent school advantages until she was twenty years old ; her vocabulary was unusually large, her appreciation of literature was genuine and ardent; in the course of fifteen min- utes I heard her use lay for lie, I zwisht for I zwish, and /i/ée for as. She, too, had needed something besides environment. Both girls had needed, early in their school lives, to have their errors of speech brought to their attention and the correct forms sup- plied, î. e., they had needed definite instruction ; both had needed practice in saying the right things, in feeling their organs of speech produce the unfamiliar combinations; a con- scious effort to do the right thing was essential. (Some of us are very much afraid of making children conscious of their speech : I think this is an unwarrantable anxiety.) And some- how or Other — and it is perfectly feasible — instruction and practice must be so managed that an enthusiasm for good speech is aroused ; this is the most essential element of all ; this accounts for the fact that, whereas, one girl from an illiterate home continues in her habits of illiteracy, another who has received the same instruction, but in whom an earnest desire for better speech has been aroused, uses a language conspicu- ously different from that of her parents. Environment, instruc- tion, practice, and all of them shot through with the interest that stimulates to endeavor — these means are at the disposal of every one of us. A word about the nature of the practice is necessary. It must strike directly at the fault in question, and not beat about the bush. A child whose articulation is slovenly, who drops his ÆΛVG Z/SÄ7 7ΛV 7THÆ ÆZÆMÆΛV7TA® Y SCÆVOOZS 339 g's or puts an r after the azv sound, may go on repeating such words as singing and saw after his teacher indefinitely, and he will still drop his g's and use that intrusive r—so retiring and coy in our average New England speech ; what he needs is to use such words as sîngîng in the midst of other words and such words as saw with a vowel sound immediately following. A story is told — it may be a story only, but every teacher knows that it is essentially true — of a boy who used the expression, “I have went home ;'' thereupon his teacher made him write / have gome fifty times after school ; the teacher was not in the room when the task was finished, and, in order to explain his disap- pearance, he added in good faith at the end of his paper, * I have went home,'' and departed, leaving the document on his desk, an unwitting monument to the teacher's folly. One other somewhat pressing question presents itself in con- nection with spoken English: How shall the children's sentence sense be trained ? how shall the sentence habit, as we like to call it, be established ? Some people believe that the children should never speak in school except in complete sentences. I knew a school in which this rule of action was carried so far that, upon being asked by the teacher, as she pointed out a word in the spelling-lesson, “ What word is that ?'' the children would reply, ** I think the word is so-and-so.” Now, the absurdity and wastefulness of this are evident. Moreover, the effort tO have every expression of thought in the shape of a full-fledged sen- tence when observing and discussing things in which the pupils are really interested, such as pictures, or plants, or books, is entirely contrary to the customs of cultivated people. Imagine visiting an art gallery with a friend, and, as you walked from painting to painting enjoying the spontaneous interchange of opinion, being suddenly forced to express yourself in complete sentences only ! Of course, the excuse offered for this exagger- ated method is that it is difficult to draw the line, and that, unless children are required to talk in sentences all the time, they will neither talk nor write in complete sentences when occasion requires. I can only say that this statement is not borne out by my own observation and experience ; in my own classes and in 34o - 7THÆ SCHOOZ RÆ VVÆ VV watching the work of other people, I have found it perfectly possible to carry on a natural, informal conversation — an inter- change of impressions — about a picture for example, with no thought of sentences, with no thought of anything but the picture and an occasional correction in pronunciation or the choice of a word—and later to gather together in an orderly and complete way all that has been thought and said, as a bit of oral or written composition. The point lies just here: the habit of good sentence construction and transition is due to two things — first, to a knowledge of what a sentence is and of what constitutes suitable transition from one sentence to another (not a knowledge that can express itself in definition, but a knowl- edge that makes it possible to recognize that this group of words is a sentence, and that group is not); and second, much practice in making and combining sentences. Children learn with sur- prising quickness to differentiate between the group of words constituting a part of a sentence and the complete sentence ; this is observable in the lowest grade. It is true the teachers are often unduly afraid of the term sentemce, and say to the children, “ Give me the zwhole story,'' and the child responds with the complete sentence. The little child's most conspicuous fault in transition is to introduce every sentence with and ; when this error is pointed out, however, he takes a distinct pride in over- coming it. So far as practice is concerned, there are numerous opportunities that can be made use of every day: in the higher grades the formal recitation from topics of history and geog- raphy, and perhaps physiology and the explanation of problems in arithmetic ; and, in the lower grades, reproduction of stories, simple accounts of personal experience, descriptions of the pic- tures that have been discussed informally—all combine to provide ample opportunity for the making and combining of sentences. Some one may ask whether following an informal conversa- tion about a picture by a formal rearrangement and restatement of what has been already said does not involve an anti-climax from the standpoint of interest. That depends entirely, I have found, upon the motive or purpose of the more formal oral exer- cise ; if it is in preparation, for instance, for a written exercise A€ΛVGAZ/SÆV /ΛV 7THVÆ ÆÆMÆΛV7TA Ä€ V SCHOO/LS 34 I which is to be taken home to some one who has not seen the picture, or if any other appealing social motive is used, there need be no falling off in interest. I would say, too, in passing, that, with the exception of literature, no subject of study found in the elementary school gives so delightful and natural an opportunity of enlarging the children's vocabulary and of teach- ing them a discriminating use of words as the effort to express what is seen and enjoyed in a picture. In regard to this matter of spoken composition, then, a mat- ter which involves proper choice of words, proper combination of words into sentences, and suitable transition from one sentence to another, I have been trying to say simply this— that a knowl- edge of what is right and much practice are needed, and that such practice need not encroach upon the perfectly natural and informal interchange of opinion that should be a part of the schoolroom life. Question 6 asks whether the written composition work of the earlier years in the elementary school is especially designed to cultivate accuracy or facility. Of the thirty-four answers received to this question, eight say both, ten say accuracy, and sixteen say facility. You will see, then, that a decided majority of those who choose one consider facility the more important matter. This opinion does not agree with the opinion of your committee. To us it seems that accuracy should not be sacri- ficed to facility, as is too often the case when facility is the prominent aim. Written forms are matters of habit, compara- tively easy to acquire provided the practice be as nearly correct as possible from the beginning, very difficult to reform if the practice has been inaccurate and careless. Of course, the reason offered here is that children who are obliged to think continually about sentences, paragraphs, punctuation, etc., are so hampered and burdened that they cannot express themselves sponta- neously. There are at least two ways of meeting this obstacle : one is to give ample opportunity for spontaneity and facility in oral expression, the other is to familiarize children with the forms of written English through well-selected copying and dic- tation exercises, in which the attention is necessarily on the 342 7THÆ SCHOOL ÆÆ VIÆ VV form, and through which the use of correct forms may become habitual. Then, in their written composition—aithough they must give some thought to form, as they know that accuracy is expected — the pupils will at the same time use quite uncon- sciously many of the correct forms which have been growing into matters of habit. I am inclined to think that the accurate emptiness of the little themes that we sometimes get from the older grammar-school children is due not so much to the stress laid upon accuracy as to the lack of effort made to enlarge the children's experience and to stimulate their thought. Question 7 deals with spelling. It would take more time than can possibly be given to report and discuss the interesting answers to this question. I will say, in passing, that thirty persons express approval of syllabication and only one disapproval, and that there is a unanimous verdict in favor of more or less oral spelling. One reply contains a statement of much significance, which I commend to your consideration. This reply comes from the Horace Mann School, a school for the education of the deaf, and is as follows : “The pupils educated in the Horace Mann School, as a rule, do not misspell. We think this due to their constant use of written language.'' Question 8 asks whether certain details of written form are assigned to particular grades for especial study. Twenty-seven answer this question in the affirmative, seven in the negative. I should like to read three replies to this question, each from a writer whose position and success give weight to his opinion. The first says: No. Punctuation, being a means of making the writer's thoughts clear to the reader, should be studied in connection with the expression of thought. (Beyond the period, comma, question and quotation marks, the use of punctuation cannot be successfully taught until the pupil is able to construct long sentences and finds the need of punctuation to make himself clear. We do not attempt much beyond what has been stated below the seventh grade.) The second says: ' We do assign special uses of punctuation marks, of capital letters, and certain abbreviations to each of the lower grades. I believe that, whilst this ÆAVGZZSA AV TAE EZEMEA/TARY SCHOOZS 343 is somewhat arbitrary, it is the effective way to get done in each grade what ought to be done. The third says: Yes, but they usually have to be taught again in the next grade. I have suggested that these technical facts be taught when they are first needed by the children, in whatever grade they are. - Different as these three answers are, they give the essential features of the plan that I am about to recommend. Before outlin- ing this plan, however, it is necessary to make a distinction in the use of a term. Teaching a written form may mean illustrating and explaining it so that it is understood, or it may meam, in addi- tion, giving sufficient practice to cause the use of the written form to become habitual. It seems to me that it should mean the second. The written forms that should have become habitual when a pupil enters the secondary school are the arrangement on the page with due regard to margins, the use of capitals, and the use of all the punctuation marks. Some of these—like the arrangement on the page, the capital at the beginning of the sentence, and the period at the end—are needed in the very lowest grade; others—like the semicolon, and the comma before an additional clause, as distinguished from a restrictive clause — cannot be fully understood until grammar is studied, and would naturally come in the seventh or eighth grades. Of course, whatever is taught in one grade has to be reviewed in subsequent grades; but, if it has been taught with ample practice, . the reviewing takes but little time, comparatively. Now suppose the exigencies of a bit of written composition require the use of some form not yet taught, as, for example, the plural possessive in the second grade. Here the form may be shown and explained, and the brighter children will make it theirs ; but it does not seem essential that the whole class should have the practice in the form necessary to make the matter an unconscious habit; that concentrated practice may come in a later grade. As for the method of study recommended in the first reply, of course the best way to introduce any new usage is in connection with the natural expression of thought when the need is felt. In considering this question it must be borne in mind that, 344 7T£VAE SCHOOÆ ÆÆ VVÆ VV when a very large and general demand is made of a teacher rather' than a reasonable and definite requirement, the results are likely to be unsatisfactory; and, from the standpoint of the elementary school as a whole with its eight grades, the danger is that certain usages will require unnecessary emphasis, and that others will be almost entirely neglected. It would seem reasonable and prac- ticable, then—and I will add that I am speaking from experience , here—to assign for especial practice certain details to the grades where they are most likely to be first needed and frequently needed, at the same time to leave every teacher free to explain and illustrate other needed usages to which she cannot give an equal amount of drill, and to call for the review in each grade of all usages previously taught. To question 9—“What proportion of the composition work is examined by the teacher ? What proportion do the pupils revise without rewriting ? What proportion do they rewrite ?'' — the replies are so varying that it is difficult to arrive at any con- sensus of opinion. I am quite ready to admit that this is largely the fault of the question. Of the twenty-eight who answer the first part of the question, twenty say that all or nearly all of the written work done by the pupils is examined by the teacher, five say that one-half is examined, and three imply that less than one-half is examined by the teacher. The answers to the other parts of the question are too few and too vague to make it worth while to report them. There is certainly no matter connected with the English work of the elementary school upon which it is so difficult to come to any wise conclusion; and provided the wise conclusions were reached, it would be difficult to state them briefly, inasmuch as the written English of the elementary school extends over eight years, and what is demanded by the work of the low grades differs materially from what is required in the high grades. But out of the conflicting theories and practices a few principles of action emerge. In the first place, to quote a favorite injunction, “Children should not be allowed to write for the waste basket: '' this does not meam, however, that every paper of every child should be examined by the teacher ; with nearly sixty pupils to the teacher, with frequént written work, ÆΛVGZ/SH /ΛV 7THÆ ÆZÆMÆΛV7ARY SCHOOLS 345 and with that written work only one feature of an exacting school program consisting of seven or eight different subjects, all taught by that one teacher, this is a practical impossibility; the teacher must, however, read enough of the papers written by each child as to discover his chief needs and his progress, and to make him recognize the fact that his work may be examined at any time and that it frequently is examined. This is not an ideal arrangement, and it points emphatically to the urgent need of fewer pupils to the teacher in the elementary school—a change more called for, probably, than any other purely administrative reform. In the second place, examination by the teacher must not mean correction by the teacher, a practice that inevitably deprives a child of go per cent. of the benefit that should come to him from the teacher's examination of his work ; it should mean rather the indication of necessary corrections. In the third place, the pupil must show by revision that he under- stands the teacher's criticisms; rewriting, it seems to me, should be less frequent than revision, and should grow less not only as the work of a given year proceeds but as the total work of the elementary school proceeds, unless the nature of the criticism is such as to call for reconstruction of the entire theme rather than for correction of individual errors. In the fourth place the pupil should be trained as early as possible to become his own critic, for eventually that is what he must be. It seems worth while to state briefly a plan of work that is being successfully tried in the higher grades of an elementary school in Massachusetts. The pupils are provided with a set of questions which they have more or less in mind as they write, and which they apply deliber- . ately to their own work after they have finished writing. QUESTIONS, Was it worth writing ? Is it divided into paragraphs correctly ? . Are the paragraphs divided into sentences correctly ? . Is the writing neat, legible, not crowded ? Is the meaning clear ? . Are words used correctly ? . Omissions ? . Are capitals used correctly? 346 . - 7THÆ SCHVOO 7 ÆÆ V7Æ MV 9. Is the spelling (including syllabication) correct ? Io. Is the punctuation correct? I I. Is the grammar correct? I 2. Construction? STAGES IN THE WORK. I. Pupils write, leaving margins on both sides. 2. Each pupil corrects his own writing, using the questions as a guide for Self-criticism. He actually makes the corrections, so far as is possible. Margins not used. 3. One of the exercises is written on the blackboard. The class and teacher together discuss and correct it. 4. The exercises are distributed to the class, no one receiving the one he wrote. Each pupil examines an exercise, indicating in the margin (by number or some other symbol) the mistakes he finds, but not correcting them, 5. The teacher examines the papers (all or part) at this stage, noting the proficiency of the pupil both in writing the exercise and in criticising, adding marks of criticism, and striking out marks of criticism that should not have been made. - 6. Each pupil receives his paper, bearing in the margin the marks indi- cating the mistakes, and copies the exercise into his book, correcting the mistakes. During this time the teacher is at the service of the class to assist them, The book must not be considered absolutely free from mistakes. It will be readily seen that this scheme does not save the teacher work, in the early stages of its use at least ; but the result ought eventually to be that the pupils become more thoughtful, more discriminating, more accurate, and that there- fore in the long run the teacher's work be materially diminished. The details of the plan might of course be modified ; its merit lies in these essential features: (I) definite lines of improve- ment known to the pupil, in which his own interest is enlisted and for which he is held responsible; (2) an opportunity to develop his critical powers by applying them both to his own work and to somebody's else ; (3) a final judgment from the teacher. - Question Io asks whether the same standards of excellence are insisted upon in all written exercises. Of the thirty-six persons who answer this question, twenty-one say yes; thirteen say yes with reservations ; two say mo. I am inclined to think that those who say yes with reservations are not only nearer the ÆÂVG LVSÆ7 /ΛV 7TÄVÆ Æ/ ÆMÆΛV7TAÆ V SCAHOO/LS 347 truth as it is, but are nearer the truth as it should be. The same standards of spelling, for example, should be required in the rapidly written history report and in the theme carefully pre- pared for the English lesson; but there should certainly be a more conscious effort for fitness of expression in the latter, and in this respect the same standards should not be applied to both. I once knew a teacher in an elementary school who complained bitterly because her pupils did very careless work in English composition. “ How often do your pupils write compositions ?" I inquired. “ Once in two weeks,'' was the answer. *' Do you have any other written work?” “ Oh, yes, the boys write their history lesson every morning.” “ And what sort of written English do they produce in their history exercises ?” “ Oh, I never pay any attention to their English in those exercises. I haven't time,'' was the reply. I comfort myself with the thought that this is an extreme case ; but it is this type of thing — often exhibited in a less flagrant form — that is responsible for much of the slovenly, indifferent work that we find. Question I I asks for the nature of the subjects used for composition exercises. Almost everyone replies that the regular school subjects provide topics for composition, and perhaps half the number add to this source of supply the personal experience and outside interests of the pupils. That the school subjects should furnish a part of the material for compositions seems essential for two reasons: (I) the work done in geography, history, etc., needs the added stimulus, the demand for clear thinking and exact expression that writing requires, (2) an entire avoidance of the regular subjects of study of the schoolroom, especially if we substitute for them an attempt to stimulate the thought and imagination in unnatural directions, is likely to make composition seem like an end in itself, and this is certainly a most unfortunate attitude for teacher or pupil to take. Should we not rather ask, what are the subjects upon which the pupil has occasion to express himself both in school and outside of school, and in the next place what are the matters in which it is desirable to arouse his interest and upon which he should be led to express himself ? In other words, his own life, and the larger 348 7THÆ SCHOOL Æ Æ VVÆ VV life of the world as it is now making itself or as it is recorded in books, and into which the teacher hopes to lead. him, should furnish the topics upon which he is to write. This basis of choice affords great variety and contributes materially to a child's edu- cation, preparing him for the real exigencies that he is to meet and at the same time increasing his appreciation of some things that otherwise he might pass by unheedingly. Questions I 2, I 3, and I 4 are as follows : i 2. “ Are your pupils encouraged to write often with the thought of a specific audience ?" I 3. “ Do you ever interchange compositions with other schools, for mutual criticism by the pupils? '' I 4. “ Are themes often read before the class by pupil or by teacher?” Of course the controlling thought in all the practices sug- gested. by this group of questions is the appeal to the pupil's social instinct, his natural desire for communication, his natural inclination to share his thought with others. Such practices give purpose and dignity to his work. The recognition and applica- tion of this motive in written work will be fully discussed in the two reports that are to follow. The answers that I have received indicate that considerable work of this sort is done in the elementary schools. • Questions I 9 and 2o ask in what phases of the English work there is the greatest need of improvementand how such improve- ment may be effected. Sixteen think that expression, either oral or written, or both, calls most loudly for improvement; four say spelling ; two speak of the need of cultivating a greater interest in literature ; one speaks of oral reading. It is evident that our views as to the greatest needs of our pupils are likely to vary with our own individual interests and with the special con- ditions under which we teach. In a district in which the majority of the pupils are drawn from illiterate homes, the need of improvement in spoken English is certainly the conspicuous and crying necessity; in a school in which the English is fairly good and the prevailing current of life vapid and frivolous, the need of a thorough interest in good, wholesome books impresses the earnest teacher most strongly ; in a district in which the super- intendent calls for frequent proofs of the pupils' skill in English ÆΛVG Z/SHV /ΛV 7THÆ Æ 7. EMÆΛV7TAARY SCHOOLS 349 composition, the teacher would hardly be human if she did not regard improvement in written English as the conspicuous need. Although my own belief is that our greatest need in the elemen- tary school is to establish among our pupils the habit of reading good books, the scope of this paper demands that I should con- sider under question 2o only the means that may be used in effecting improvement in the pupils' power to express them- selves. Many familiar remedies are proposed, such as better teachers, greater thoroughness, patient and persistent instruction ; and one man who believes better spoken English to be our greatest need suggests that a more discriminating choice of parents is the only remedy. In attempting to express my own view, I can find no words so suggestive as those used by President Eliot in a memor- able address on “ Education" delivered last November ufider the auspices of the Twentieth Century Club. These are his words: Concerning an educated individual, we may fairly ask, “ Can he see straight ? Can he recognize the fact ? Next, can he draw a just inference from established facts ? '' We teachers of English need to see straight, to recognize the fact, to draw just inferences from established facts. There are two sets of facts with which we need to concern ourselves : first, the purposes of our work, i. e., the ideal ends — none the less facts — for which we are striving ; second, the facts as to the present condition of our pupils. I think that I am justified im saying that as a body we do not see with half the needed clear- ness the ends toward which we should be working. I am sure that we do not see things as they are with the largeness of view and the hopefulness that the facts warrant. We find among many teachers an extremely pessimistic attitude about the power of expression, especially in speech, shown by the rising gener- ation ; it is fashionable in some quarters to talk as if our English were going to the dogs. I believe profoundly that there never was a time when English was spoken and written so well by so large a proportion of the people. If you feel pessimistic you need only to compare the pupils of a great public school system like that of Boston with their parents. The children from 35o 7THÆ SCÆVOO / ARÆ VVÆ VV educated homes are following in the parents' footsteps, although their English is, of course, immature; 'and the children from illiterate homes are immeasurably above their parents in the purity of their speech and in their ability to write. As an indi- cation 9f the work that the schools have been doing, may I give a bit of personal experience ? For seventeen years now I have taught girls coming from some six or more Boston high schools and from scattering high schools outside of Boston ; the written English of the pupils has improved conspicuously within these years ; a set of themes from a present entering class is far and away ahead of those prepared by the entering classes of fifteen and seventeen years ago. The spoken English is not conspicuously better. This indicates the direction in which the best work has been done, and the direction in which better work is needed ; but it shows above all how encouraging the facts are. To greater clearness in our grasp of the facts and their significance, we need to add better organization of our work. Better organization can only come through co-operation ; and co-operation means working with approximately common aims, with methods that do not defeat one another, although there may be infinite variety in them, and with a rational agreement as to the division of labor, which shall save us, on the one hand, from , doing over one another's work, and, on the other, from altogether neglecting some essential detail. For the individual teacher I would ask, then, greater clearness of view; for the body ofteachers, better organization : only as we gain in these directions may we hope for substantial growth in our pupils' power to use their mother-tongue. - KATHARINE H. SHUTE. BOSTON NORMAL SCHOOL. 31 II. IN THE SECONDARY SCHOOLS.* After the excellent general introduction by Miss Shute, I need to give only a few special words by way of preface to the report on secondary schools. - - - - First of all, I wish to thank between eighty and ninety New England teachers who have kindly taken the time and pains to answer the inquiries of list No. II so fully and satisfactorily. When. we first set about this task some prophets of evil foretold that I should meet with disappointment in my inquiries among the secondary schools, and that my portion of the report would of necessity be theoretical and personal, rather than historical and critical. I confess that I, too, had misgivings, arising in part from a knowledge of the indifference with which a general public is wont to treat circular questions, and I scarcely hoped for half a hundred replies. But I find myself endowed with a veritable embarrassment of riches, consisting of answers from every state in New England, as follows : Maine, 7 reports rep- resenting 7 schools ; New Hampshire, 9 reports representing 8 schools ; Vermont, 2 reports representing two schools ; Massa- chusetts, 22 reports representing 2 I schools ; Rhode Island, 8 reports representing 6 schools ; Connecticut, 6 reports repre- senting 6 schools. `, - To these I may add a personally solicited report of the Wadleigh High School of New York city — the largest in the world, I think, with an enrollment of about three thousand pupils. There are also, perhaps, a half dozen reports from per- sons whose names were not appended to their replies, and whose state is therefore uncertain — probably one of absent-minded- ness. One of these is postmarked “ Back Bay." - I have said that there were 22 replies from Massachusetts. By this I mean the state at large. Besides, there were 32 * The list of questioms is omitted, as each questiom is given in connection with its replies. 35 U 352 • 7ΤΗΑE SCHVOO Z ÆÆ VVÆ VV reports representing 24 schools in Greater Boston, I I of these coming from 3 public and 3 private schools in Boston proper, not including Roxbury, Dorchester, Charlestown, and such sub- urban districts even within the city limits. I note that some of the replies assume that we intend to report on a wider theme than your committee contemplated. We decided to confine our inquiries and suggestions to the some- what humble but necessary theme of composition, leaving the subject of literature to another committee and a later date. Grammar and rhetoric also, as well as literature, are left out of our scheme of inquiry and recommendation, except where their roots interlace and absolute separation becomes impractical. One teacher, in submitting a report, says: “ One of my pet heresies is, that composition, as such, has no place in a high- school curriculum.'' But as we assume that most of you are orthodox we do not recommend its immediate abolition. Our committee has held several meetings, and these have been characterized by harmony and substantial concord. Still, it is scarcely to be expected that our reports should agree in all particulars. In the first place, each member is alone responsi- ble for the ideas advanced by him or her; in the second place, the fields traversed by each report are distinct, and need cultiva- tion in peculiar and sometimes radically different ways. The general farmer, the market gardener, and the floriculturist all sow seeds, all sow them in soil, and usually find air, light, and water are helpful in developing the seed into a plant and in bringing the plant to maturity. But they may have different methods of dealing with the vegetable and animal enemies of their different plants, and may have different methods of coax- ing and rearing their specialties, according as they are Indian corn, Hubbard squashes, or Lawson pinks. Lest some members may have forgotten to bring their lists of questions, I will read each before submitting the report thereon. I will also premise that no question was intended to be a leading one, and that when alternative methods were sug- gested, an effort was made not to reveal the writer's own pref- erence, if, indeed, he had one. It was farthest from his desire ÆλVG LVSÆ7 7ΛV 7THÆ SAECOAV/)AÆ? V SCHOO /„S 353 to act like the prestidigitateur and cause his victim to draw a forced card. He has been impressed by the spirit of general interest and the evident frankness of the replies. He has been encouraged by such remarks as “ Good idea;” “ Never have ; but I meam to;" " I never thought of it: it seems a valuable sugges- tion,'' and the like. It is quite unimportant if some of those “good ideas'' for which he was presumed to stand sponsor did not meet with his unqualified approval. Such remarks betoken interest and sympathy on the parts of the respondents, and it is only when we have a community of interests and a vital sym- pathy with each other's needs, that this association will be in the highest sense profitable. The first question upon list No. II is as follows: “ During how many years is English taught as a specific subject?” Almost without exception English is taught, specifically throughout the courses of all the schools heard from ; but their courses vary in length. They are 3, 4, 5, and in a few cases 6 years. - The second question is : (a) “ On an average, how many recitation periods per week are devoted to the teaching of English?'' (6) “What proportion of this (also on an average) is devoted to. composition, and what proportion to literature?” The answers to the first part (the number of periods per week) present a wide variety ; 2, 2-+-, 2 %, 3, 3%, 4, 4%, 5, and in extreme cases Io and even 2o. Possibly in the latter case ref- erence was made to all recitations conducted in the Emg/is/. /am- . guage / The Second part — the relative proportion of composi- tion to literature — is answered, }, 4, 4, §, and § composition, the smaller fractions being more numerous. In many cases the amount of composition lessens as the course proceeds. This seems necessary in order to comply with the college require- ments in English literature, but I think many colleges wish that the proportions were half and half. The third question is, “ How often do you have written work ?” The replies are : “ Daily;'''' Three to four times a week;'' “ Every one or two days ;" " Two or three times a week ;' “ Every Friday ;'' “ Irregularly ;” “Very often ;'' “ Once in two weeks ;'' “ Once in four weeks ;” “Always in composition classes; in others once in six weeks.'' 354 7THÆ SCHOOZ ÆÆ J/VÆ VV Questions 4, 5, and 6 may well be considered together because of the extreme range .of the answers. -The latter sweeps through the whole diapason, chromatics and all. The questions are : (4) “ About what proportion of the written work is done outside the class-room ?" (5) “ Of written work in the class-room, what proportion is impromptu ?" (6) “ Are your pupils often encouraged to write with the thought of a specific audience ?” The extreme replies to 4 are : “ Practically all;” “ Almost none." To 5 they are : “ Most of it;” “ Very little.” And to 6: “ Rarely ;'' *' Always.” - Question No. 7 reads, “ How is the written work of your pupils corrected ?” The replies are full of suggestion and inter- est. There seems to be a fair unanimity of method, but by com- mon consent it is not the best method. Almost no teachers make the mistake of actually correcting the errors and relieving the pupils of all thought ; most of them indicate with colored ink or pencil the sort of error and the general location and leave the pupil to find the rest for himself. A favored few meet the student in personal conference. In addition to criticisms like the above by the teacher a fair per cent. of the schools have more or less of class criticism. ® No. 8. “ What are your views on the value or personal con- ference in the correction of compositions ?'' evoked replies more nearly unanimous than any other question on the list, Here are a few, and ex pede Herculem. “ Absolutely essential to the highest success. Practically impossible because the number of pupils and hours of recitation.” “Absolutely necessary. Next best thing, extended written criticism returned with the exercise.” “The nearer instruction in composition comes to a personal conference on each theme, the nearer it approaches the ideal.” “ Theoretically, personal conference seems to me the only satisfactory solution of certain problems in secondary school English. Practically, 2 I 2 pupils and 28 recitations have hitherto precluded the possibility of my making any test.'' And so ad finem. The answers to No. 9, “ Is corrected work, as a rule, entirely re-written ?'' disclose a decided difference, not only of method ÆΛVGLISH /Λ/ THÆ SECONDARY SCHOOLS 355 but of opinion. * Many have their pupils rewrite all as a rule. Many have that which is below grade rewritten. Some forcibly object to the rewriting of corrected work on the ground that it is drudgery for the pupil. We may remark in passing, that if the pupil could be heard, he would sometimes call it drudgery to write the first draft. No. Io is, “ Are the subjects for themes chosen mainly from literature or from experience ?” Generally speaking there seems to be a fairly equal division between experience and liter- ature. The majority seem to devote more time to experience at the beginning of the course and to literature toward the end. This is doubtless because of the approaching college examina- tions. A few schools have mo themes chosen from experience. Happily, however, they are in a Small minority. One .teacher says: “ We try to combine experience and literature as in * Sir Rogerly de Coveley at a Polo Game.''' One or two others begin with literature and broaden to experience later. This seems rather like inverting natural processes. Just as fingers were made before forks, so experiences come before spelling- books. • I am a little surprised at the number of negative answers to - No. I I — “ Do you often have compositions in the form of reports of recitations, debates, parties, concerts, sermons, or. speeches ?” Over a score give an unqualified “ No.'' Others say “ Hardly oftem;” “ Seldom ;'' *' Rarely;” “ Sometimes;” “Occa- sionally.'' One teacher says : “ We have not dared to touch on some of these, and the others have been lacking for our use." At first I was puzzled to see the meaning of this reply ; but later reflection led me to conclude that the Siège Peri/ous in which no one dared sit was either at the sermon or at the party, and that the concert was lacking. But my question did not expect replies that reports were regular!y made on al/ these subjects. Parties, concerts, sermons, etc., were given as specimens of entertain- ments or gatherings, some of which all students enjoy, or at least attend, and a proper account of which would be interest- ing to others who have not been present. Some practice in tel- ling what one has seen — making others see through one's own 356 7TÆVÆ SCHVOO/L Æ Æ VVÆ VV eyes — is good training. It is thus that journalists are made. In this way the imagination is cultivated, too, so that an expert reporter who was not at the Vanderbilt dinner with Prince Henry can write an account as edifying as if he had been a favored guest. No. I 2. “ Do you often interchange, compositions with the pupils of other schools for mutual criticism ?'' This question was answered by an almost universal *' No.” Some seem a little irri- tated by the question. One writes : “The value of criticism by the class seems to me questionable. My own experience does not confirm the truth of the statement that a correction by a classmate has more effect than many by the teacher." In reply to the last opinion I will say in passing that no such statement was expressed or implied in the question, and the framer of the question never heard the statement made categorically. But within a month a teacher of Greek has told him an interesting incident in this connection. He has repeatedly said to his class that if they would learn the principal parts of certain Greek verbs and the meaning of certain prepositions, they would be fitted to take the average Harvard examination in Attic Greek at sight. Day after day he repeated this opinion, but it seemed to gain small credence. At last one day a pupil nodded at the teacher's trite remark. “ Do you believe it ?” asked the teacher triumphantly. *' Yes,'' said the boy ; ** I asked a fellow who had taken the examinations, and he said it was so.'' Now, the teacher had had phenomenal success in fitting boys for Harvard for many years in many examinations ; but the pupil refused to be convinced except on the testimony of one of his peers whose experience extended over but one examination. Another reply to the question concerning exchange of com- positions, reads : “ No opportunity.'' Another: “ I never have. I wish the committee would tell of the methods and success of those who have.'' I will briefly answer the last two correspondents. ' All that is needed by way of opportunity is a teacher who is willing to co-operate and about ten cents in stamps. I have exchanged twice during the past term — once with a teacher in ÆAVGZ/SA AV 7HE SECONDARY SCHOOZS 357 the city, once with a teacher at some little distance. This was our method : On a given day, fixed two or three weeks in advance, our pupils wrote in the class for thirty-five minutes on the same topic without notes. For the previous two or three weeks, however, they had had opportunity to work up their theme if they wished. Both subjects were taken from litera- ture, for especial reasons. One was very simple—'' Mr. Burchell.” The other was rather difficult, and one that some colleges would not approve: “ Child Influence as Exhibited in The Princess and in Silas Marmer. The latter theme tested the power of com- parison and the ability to think straight on the part of each pupil. The results justified the theory that some pupils in our high schools need not be confined to description, narration, and summary. •. With the compositions (which were identified by numbers, not by names) each teacher sent his estimate of the probable order of excellence, judging from the past work of the pupils. Then the presumably best composition of one class was given to the presumably best writer of the other class for criticism. The critics then made both general and special criticisms. Special criticisms were written in the margins; general criticisms were written on separate sheets. Each pupil then marked his estimate of value on a scale from a A to F, and all papers were re-exchanged. As to the success: (I), there was great interest manifested on both occasions, and my pupils emulated Oliver Twist in clamoring for more; (2) I was surprised at the discrimination shown by all classes in their general criticisms. It made me feel a becoming humility to think that I sat in daily judgment Over boys who could point out so unerringly a bit of bad logic, a lack of coherence, a mass of mere verbiage, a digression, or a platitude. But I found a bit of consolation now and then when I detected them violating their own canons, as Richard Gramt White so often does in his Words and Their Uses; (3) I have seen a marked improvement in some directions in which one class scored mine severely — that of punctuation especially. One incident of the exchanges interested me very much. I 358 -» 7THÆ SCÆNOOZ ÆÆ VIÆ VV gave one of the best and one of worst of a set of compositions ' received to one of the best critics in my class. He showed his discrimination by marking the former A and the latter E, and in the general criticism of the latter he hanged, drew, and quar- tered him, and then flayed him alive. The teacher wrote me that the victim wanted the critic's scalp, but he got something better. A month later I asked the teacher what the result of the merciless criticism had been upon his pupil. He replied earnestly: “ Extend my thanks to No. 4. He has done in one criticism what I have vainly tried to accomplish in four years. He has stung that fellow's pride. He is actually trying to do something, and is succeeding. His penmanship has improved within a month so that it is hardly recognizable, and he is doing better in every way. The other teacher with whom I exchanged seems equally well pleased, and has proposed that another year we organize a syndicate of exchanges among those interested. As to question I 3—“ Do you have spoken compositions''— the few affirmative replies betoken a lack of system. One of the best and most helpful runs as follows: “ Yes, regularly in all classes. Four are appointed from each class each week to speak three minutes without notes on a subject of their own choosing. These are criticised by pupils and instructor. The instructor often reads from Higginson's Hinis om SpeechmaÂng and Brander Matthews's Wotes on the same subject. No exer- cise interests the pupils more.'' I will add that I have pursued a method in many respects similar to that just given, and I find the talks furnish an excellent subject for ten-minute themes in the form of criticisms upon the speakers. I read the criticisms aloud, concealing the writer's name, and thus each speaker is stimulated to win the praise and avoid the censure of his com- rades. I then correct the criticisms as I would any other com- position. No. I 4: “ Is careful attention given to the correction of spoken English." Here the ayes have it. Almost everybody says “Yes,'' and bold indeed were he who would cry “ Hold! enough !'' Yet I must agree with Miss Shute's ideas upon this same theme, and commend what she says to the consideration ÆÄVG 7/SÄ7 /ΛV 7TÆ7Æ SAECOAVZ)AAR V SCHOOÆS 359 «of the secondary-school teacher. I have one unique reply, however, which may be of interest: “ No. Our students whose English needs correction are in the minority. They soon pecome conscious of their errors and correct themselves. The result is usually all that could be desired. It seems to me that in view of these conditions, to correct in class a student's spoken English would be unkind to the student and unjust to the class.'' No. I 5: “ Do teachers in the other departments co-operate with the English teacher ?” Several say “Yes,'' but I am inclined to think the reply is to be taken in a Pickwickian sense. Other answers are evasive, as “ Constantly urged to 'do so;” “ Probably as much as in most schools ; ” “ To some degree;” “Our principal encourages and requests it." Others are mildly sarcastic, as, “They mean to, but they forget it;” “We hope they will in time ;'' “ All are expected to.'' And still others say bluntly : “ Give very little help ;'' “ Some do ; I think that some «do not;” “ Inadequately and intermittently ;” “They have been urged to, and appealed to in every way, but they respond only in a faint-hearted fashion ;'' *' I am of the opinion that the English department is the only place where there is any attempt to teach English ; I know poor English translations are accepted in Latin." And lastly : “ No : on the contrary they are in- clined to hold the English department responsible for all errors in English found in their work.” No. 16: “ Are compositions often read before the class ? If . so, by pupil or by teacher ?'' I think there is but one unquali- fied “ Vo''—implying, perhaps, that they are never read. Most teachers have them read with more or less frequency ; some always by the pupils ; some always by the teacher ; while others try both methods. » Nos. 17, 18 and I 9 were printed on the verso of the sheet and were unobserved by several, and consequently unanswered. Still a goodly number turned the leaf and took the trouble to reply. - No. I 7 reads as follows : “ Do you make a practice of tak- ing a secret ballot to determine the best composition of several read before the class ? If so, do you find the class opinion 36o 7THÆ SCHOO L RÆ VVÆ VV generally coincides with your own ?'' I frankly confess that I expected a grand symphony of “ Noes.” I scarcely knew a teacher that practiced the ballot or favored it. Yet I believe it to be of the utmost value, if not carried to an extreme, both as a stimulus to the ambition of the writers on whom a class judg- ment will be passed, and as a training of the judgment of the individual voters. For the class usually votes right (î. e., accord- ing to my judgment), and the voter who votes wrong writes him- self down as uncritical — and no one knows it but himself. In both of the exchanges of which I have spoken, my class by a large majority selected the compositions of the other classes which the teachers of those classes said were probably the best. That was also, I consider, a great compliment to the judgment of each of those teachers, for I feel sure my class was right. One of their votes was most striking. The compositions of the rival class were separated into three parts, and after they were read before the class a vote was taken to determine the best in each division. In two out of the three cases the teacher's esti- mate was confirmed. In the other case, they disagreed, and here very possibly the class judgment was at fault. But when the three best according to their selection were read one after the other, the vote for the boy whose composition his teacher presumed was best, was almost unanimous. • Coming now to the replies to question I 7, I find that, though the custom of balloting is by no means a common one, it is found in every state of New England with but one exception, and from that state I have received but two replies. The last fact in itself is significant. I read a few of the answers: “ Not secret; no time. Classes generally find the best; always the worst. They can usually tell whether the writer is a boy or a girl. The name of the author is always concealed.” “ No. I mean to try. I fancy from the unwritten votes I see in their faces that I should find their opinion coincided with my own." (a) “Secret ballot when papers- have been read by the writer; oral vote when the authorship is concealed.” (ò) “ Nearly always.” “ Not as a practice. I have done so- occasionally." (a) " I do frequently." (ò) “Yes, almost invariably." (a) ÆΛVG Z/SÆ/ /ΛV 7THÆ SAECOÄVZ)AA€ V SCAZOO ZS 36 I “Often.'' (b) “ Always, almost, though I try not to show my preference.'' So let the good work go on. Nos. 18 and I 9 are questions as perennial as Tennyson's brook, and were asked, not with the thought that the answers could be codified, but rather with the purpose of stimulating the thought of each member of this association so that after the report there might be a vigorous discussion. By way of sum- mary I will give a few of my own convictions, and they may also pass as personal replies to Nos. I 8 and I 9, which read as follows : (18) “ In what lines of English teaching in secondary schools do you think there is greatest need of improvement?”—To this I should reply, In the practice of composition (not the theory) and in the teaching of literature. (I 9) “ Please state in less than one hundred words some of the ways in which such improvements may be effected.” I shall not limit myself to a hundred words, shall say nothing of the teaching of literature directly, and shall treat of both the theory and practice of composition in my closing thoughts. There is little time for arguments, so I shall confine myself mainly to conclusions, numbering them to correspond with the questions upon the list. - I. English composition should be taught throughout the secondary-school course. 2. This should occupy some part of at least three recitation periods of each week. The time devoted to composition, either spoken or written, should be equal to that devoted to literature. 3. There should be daily practice in the careful writing of English. When the specific English recitation does not occur each day, a translation into good English from some foreign language, a history test, or the like, will serve to keep the pupil in trim. - . 4. Until the pupil has learned how to compose, but little work should be assigned to be done outside the class-room. Some should be assigned, no doubt ; just enough to avoid going tO extremeS. - • 5. Of work done in the class, the greater part in the early years should be work relative to the pupil's experience, or that 362 THE SCHOOZ REVIEW .• in which the material is furnished him. It should' be work in which thoughts are not so much needed as words. Toward the close of the course, much writing should be absolutely impromptu—both as to thought and as to expression. 6. Pupils should always write expecting somebody to read and judge what they have written. It is well, for variety's sake, not to have the same audience in mind day after day. Novelty always enchains the interest of the child. - 7. The impression should never prevail that work is not to be inspected or valued. There is not time to mark all themes that should be written; but all themes should be returned to the writer for careful preservation during the year, and at least one of every two or three should be carefully marked for revision. The writer should be encouraged to revise the others himself. 8. Personal conference should be secured, as all agree that that is the only perfect method. 9. Much of the corrected work should be entirely rewritten, but not all, except in certain years. By having frequent short themes, each may be rewritten if necessary, without imposing a seeming hardship upon the pupil. Io. Subjects for themes should not be chosen exclusively either from literature or from experience. The proportions should vary at different stages of the pupil's career. If possible, divide them about equally. I I. Reports of various sorts furnish valuable training. Reporters report constantly, and the twentieth century newspa- pers will need many reporters. vo I 2. The interchange of compositions with writers in other schools gives a healthful and natural interest to composition. I 3. Spoken compositions are no less valuable than written, and excite far more enthusiasm. - - I 4. Spoken English should be corrected according to some system. - I 5. Every possible pressure—moral, physical, and political— should be brought to bear upon the teachers of all other depart- ments to induce them to co-operate with the English teacher. 16. Compositions should be read frequently, even generally, ZAVGZ/SA /Λ/ ZAE SECONDARY SCHOOZS 363 before the class ; sometimes by the pupil, sometimes by the teacher. Class criticism should follow, and pupils should be taught that criticism means, not censure, but judgment. I 7. The secret ballot, showing the class judgment of the best themes, should be employed much more widely, but not overdone.' It is a valuable aid to the teacher and a valuable training for all the class. It teaches pupils to weigh and Acon-, sider. It stimulates each writer to do his very best, knowing that his peers will dispense even-handed justice and give victory to whom victory is due, honor to whom honor. D. O. S. LOWELL. ROXBURY, MASS., LATIN SCHOOL. III. IN THE COLLEGE.' LIST NO, 3: QUESTIONS FOR COLLEGES. $ I. How many hours of required work are there in English composition and rhetoric as distinguished from literature? 2. How many hours of elective work? 3. How often do you have written work, (a) prepared outside class, (ò) done in class? 4. To what extent are theme subjects taken (a) from the literature studied ? (ò) from the student's daily life, observation, and experience ? (c) frorn work done in other departments of the college exclusive of the English department ? - 5. How much time is given to the reading of themes in class ? Is the reading done by the instructor or by the student ? - 6. Are the themes written with reference to a specific audience sug- gested by the instructor or chosen by the student ? 7. In the early work of the course is facility or correctness made the immediate aim ? 8. To what extent is the entire rewriting of themes required ? 9. What amount of time per month is given by the instructor to personal conference with individual students on the written work? Io. Have you courses in which the problems of English composition are considered with reference to training students who intend to teach English in the secondary schools ? I I. Along what lines do you see most need of improvement in the English teaching of your college ? I 2. What recommendations have you to send back to teachers of English in the preparatory schools fitting for your college ? The study of English in the colleges has, within the past decade, become increasingly satisfactory. In several of the smaller colleges, and in one of the great universities, the work has been reorganized and a more generous allowance of time given. It is noteworthy that Harvard, Columbia, and Vassar still lead in giving English in the curriculum a place commen- surate with its importance, providing five hours of required work, and a large amount of elective work. It has been the misfortune of English that it has not had the status of any other full course in the hours assigned it, that it has been, and is still 364 ÆΛ/G Z/SÆ7 /ΛV 7TÆ7Æ COZ/LÆGÆ 365 in many colleges, tucked into a student's programme as an insignificant adjunct to other work. The student is apt to take his measure of the importance of a subject from the prominence given it by the faculty, and to treat as a pretty, useless frill a subject merely sandwiched in between Others which demanded of him more lengthy consideration, and which, in the coin of his realm, count for more toward a degree. Some colleges have not passed the point where, as Professor Barrett Wendell has said, the English teacher, like the dancing-master, is regarded as a kind of ornamental appendage to the serious course of study. The root of the difficulty lies in the fact that the disciplinary importance of English has not been properly recognized. So long as English is merely an adjunct, a means of saving instruc- tors in other departments work which they should do them- selves, in insisting on proper form in their written papers, so long will it be merely a side issue on the curriculum. The true function of English teaching, as I conceive it, is to teach a student to organize his experience and knowledge for expression. There is nothing that taxes human intelligence so severely as this very process of organization ; it involves clear, precise thinking; it involves a nice perception of relations of one thing with all the other things in one's universe. English teaching in college suffers somewhat from the incubus which weighs on the secondary school even more deadeningly— the incubus of formal rhetoric. Instead of teaching our students names, classifica- tions, an elaborate nomenclature of logical distinctions, we need to teach them a few, a very few, basic principles of thought- organization. We need principles, and the application of prin- ciples to the matter in hand, and we need this done over and Over again until the principles have sunken into the subcon- sciousness of the student and are used by him almost automatic- ally. If we could get into the heads of students in our college classes what unity, emphasis, and coherence mean ; if we could make them see that these are organizing principles of human thought everywhere, in all the fine arts, in music, painting, sculp- ture, architecture ; if we could make them realize that they are 366 7THÆ SCHOO/ Æ Æ VVÆ VV fundamental wherever human intelligence seeks outward expres- sion, we should do something for our students that would count eternally in their development. The task of the English teacher : is to teach students to think, to think in orderly processes, to sup- ply the student with principles for testing thought. This is not exciting work, and the student does not “ take to it'' as the tra- ditional duck takes to water, but it is the business of the English teacher, by infinite variety of resources, to instil these basic prin- ciples until they are mastered. Instead of this, what we have in much of our college work, even in the Freshman class, is detailed classification of kinds of description — subjective, objective, dynamic, kinetic, intensive, and a dozen more. In narration, instead of the simple laws of development, we have the whole theory of the technique of the drama, with charts, and diagrams, and arches, and hypersubtleties of all sorts, and then, to cap the climax, we have the complete psychology of style unfolded to the freshman mind in its virgin innocence. English teachers in college try to present in the freshman year the material and results given them in their graduate work ; English teachers in the secondary schools try to transplant col- lege courses in toto to their new classroom ; neither is content with the plain duty near at hand, but seeks self-exploitation and artificial interest by the use of matter unadapted to the needs of students. I believe, in short, that the next ten years will see a great simplification of the subject-matter of English taught in the secondary school and in college ; that heads of departments will insist on the unloading in the elementary courses of about half the material that now encumbers them ; that there will be a return to basic principles for testing thought, and form as it is related to thought. There is time enough to teach freshmen the art of fiction, and the technique of the drama, and the psychology of style, when they have learned that two absolutely unrelated statements may not be connected by amd and thrust into a single sentence. - I have put stress on the necessity of teaching a few basic principles or laws of thought, because they must ever be the balance-wheel for the mass of new perceptions which it is the ÆAVGZ/SA AV THE COLLEGE 367 highest privilege of an English instructor to evoke in his stu- dents. The English instructor should stimulate, should help awaken the imagination, should attune the senses to a finer and more delicate registering of the experience of living. It is for just such a purpose that I should recommend a great increase in the number of short themes , assigned (commonly known as daily themes), for they call for an immediate, personal, vivid reaction on daily life with its crisscross and play of interests, suggestion, and feeling. Since the function of teaching English is to teach self-expression, to teach the student to organize and phrase his perception of life, he should be sent to that material which is warmest and closest, which he will umconsciously put forth with most intimate knowledge. English composition can never be vital until it trains the student to select his ozwm material from that which life brings, making his selection along the line of personal interest. As soon as English can be liber- ated from the tyranny of set subjects taken from literature, where the object is the mechanical reproduction of the ideas of another, we shall begin to have work that is worth while. A good many of the freshmen who come to Wellesley have no idea of writing on anything but Hamlet's madness or the evils of jealousy as seen in Othello, or Satan as the hero of Paradise Lost, or friendship, with pitiful pilfering from Emerson. A sub- ject of less magnitude is unworthy of their infant prowess ; they who have been used to scaling the walls of Olympus lustily rebel at the pedestrian task of giving an account of some simple inci- dent of the day. They are tongue-tied and helpless unless the material of ideas is taken more or less bodily from a book and given back under a thin disguise of rephrasing. And we call writing on such subjects Self-expression ! I do not of course mean that subjects from literature necessarily call only for the ideas of another, but wish rather to emphasize the obvious truth that in the freshman and sophomore years the student's sponta- neity does not naturally play about subjects taken from literature; that therefore it is better to keep these subjects in subordina- tion. In the later years of the course, subjects from literature have much more a rightful place, for there is, as the student 368 7THÆ SCHVOO L ÆÆ VVÆ VV matures, a growing catholicity of taste and an aptitude for ideas as ideas; in the earlier years, however, consistent effort should be made to keep the subjects for short and long themes humanly rather than pedagogically interesting. Professor G. R. Carpen- ter, of Columbia, writes : » Theme subjects are taken almost entirely from matters lying within the student's experience. We have not secured good results from making the work in literature the basis of composition. My feeling is that such a union of two different kinds of work is likely to be successful only in the junior and senior years. Of the colleges sending information on this point, Harvard, Columbia, Cornell, the Institute of Technology, Brown, Williams, Tufts, Amherst, Vassar, and Wellesley report that theme subjects are practically all taken, in the earlier years of the course, from subjects based on the students' experience. A recommendation to which I attach much importance is that more time be given in class to the reading and discussing themes by the instructor, and more particularly by the student. It is incredible to suppose that themes dropped into a box and read in private by an elder and returned to the student in private will have the same significance as themes which are to pass muster before a student's comrades, which are to raise or lower him in the esteem of those who constitute his world. A wise instructor cannot neglect to utilize the social instinct which makes us all eager to stand well in the eyes of our little world, which makes communication to an audience of our fellows a real and vital thing. Such class discussion will stimulate better work in the students by lifting the act of writing from a mechan- ical exercise to a human utterance to one's fellows. Besides that, it will be the means of testing and applying to ever-varying material the cardinal touchstones or principles of thought-organ- ization which it is the business of the English instructor to inculcate. Statistics as to the amount of time actually given in the classroom to the reading of themes, in answer to the ques- tion sent out, have been too vague and unsatisfactory to tabulate, Some colleges report “ a considerable amount of time,'' what- ever that may mean. The statements from Harvard, Columbia, ÆΛVG Z/SÆ7 /ΛV 7THAZ CO /./.AEGAE 369 Cornell, the Institute of Technology, Brown, ' Amherst, Tufts, Smith, Vassar, and Wellesley, seem to indicate that from one- half to one-third of the time given to English in the classroom is devoted to comment on themes read aloud. Reports from sev- eral other colleges seem to show very little class discussion of themes. One-third is certainly a low enough time allowance for this part of the work. Our composition teaching, as I said a moment ago, is suffering from too much theory, from too little practical application to the matter in hand. No instructor can ever be sure that his students are not bandying about mere terms and empty names until they are put to the test of criticising themes. It would seem, perhaps, a fairer distribution if one-half the time in class were given to the presentation of a new body of facts, or to outlining new modes of work ; if the other half were given to the discussion and testing of the results in com- position. The emphasis at present falls in such a way as to lead one to suppose that we solemnly teach rhetoric as an end in itself rather than as means to composition. In no art school does the time spent on the theory preponderate, as in rhetoric teach- ing, over the actual practice and criticism of results. In painting and drawing, it is acknowledged that the student learns by doing; in English composition, it seems to be supposed that the student learns by copious advice as to how to do. In every studio where artists are learning to paint, it is admitted by common consent, that the criticism of results by the master and fellow- students is the most valuable and significant part of the training. Why should this not be true in the art of English composition ? It will not seem extravagant to suggest that almost one-half the time in the English class be given to the reading and dis- cussion of themes, if it is borne in mind that another important end is thereby achieved. It is very evident from college fresh- men that they have not been trained to rewrite themes in the sense of reconceiving, in a new and larger spirit, the matter pre- sented. They will recopy themes, correcting specific mistakes indicated, but they seem curiously fettered by the finality of the written word in making radical and complete changes. The discussion of themes in class, if wisely conducted, will throw 37 o 7ΤΗΣ SCHOOZ RÆ VIÆ VV new points of view on the matter as well as the form ; will enable the student to re-envisage his material, will send him away eager to reconstitute it in the larger, more pregnant relations which the discussion has revealed. It is because of this profound con- viction that the class discussion of themes is the best means of teaching rhetorical principles, the best means of training taste and critical acumen, the only means of stimulating students to an intelligent reconceiving and reshaping of material, that the claim for half the time in the English hour is made for it. Reports from several of the leading colleges indicate that from sixty to seventy-five per cent. of the themes are entirely rewritten. In the last two years of the high school, and throughout the college course, the average student should be taught to expect to rewrite about half his work. The criticism that fails to make pressingly evident the need of the total reconstruction of a theme must fall short somewhere or rest content with comfortably mediocre attainment. In my own advanced elective work, I count practically on every long theme being rewritten. As a student advances in his work, the infinite possibilities of better- ment in his writing should make constant and eager challenge to him. • The colleges themselves proclaim, as one of their greatest needs, more time set apart by the English instructor for per- sonal conference with his students. In the high School, the need is more importunate, though on the whole there is far less provision for it than in the colleges. Most of the colleges of first rank follow the practice of Harvard in arranging that an instructor shall have conferences with each individual student in his written work at least once a fortnight. It is suggested by the head of one of the leading English departments that a fair allowance of time is to assign each college instructor six or eight hours a week of conference with students for every two hours of class appointment. Probably the best and most valu- able work of the English instructor is done in talking Over the themes of a student in personal conference. A single searching question can set straight in a moment some point of defective analysis; the inflection of the voice can reveal a whole new point ÆΛVG Z/SÆV /ΛV 7TÆVÆ COÆ/LÆGAE 37 I of view as no set of written symbols can. It is to be earnestly hoped that the colleges will make more generous provision for this part of the English work. • • The general recommendation made to the colleges, namely: (I) that there should be emancipation from so many set sub- jects drawn from literature, and should be more themes based on daily life and observation ; (2) that there should be increase in the time given to the reading and discussion of themes to the extent of making this one-half, or at least one-third, of the whole time in class; (3) that there should be a great increase in the require- ment of rewritten work ; (4) that there should be set apart for the English instruction, as a necessary part of the work, as necessary as the laboratory to the instructor in science, five or eight hours a week for conference with individual students on their work—these recommendations, I say, should be passed on to the secondary schools. too. If they were carried out in the secondary schools, the need for them in college would be far less. The college must now supply in part the deficiency in secondary- school teaching. There are some specific pieces of work cry- ing aloud to heaven to be done in the secondary school. For instance, there is no reason whatever why, in a class of I 75 freshmen, only. about twenty-five should know how to write and punctuate the headings of an ordinary letter. Freshmen are amazingly and grotesquely ignorant of the simplest rules. They will, in writing a note to a college instructor to explain a late theme, address the instructor as “ Kind Friend," with no sense that there is anything provincial in such a salutation. Is it not a clear injustice to the great mass of students who never get beyond the high schools to send them forth into the world without knowledge of the most practical points in English that they are called upon to use in the business of life ? Letter forms and punctuation have to be done year after year with successive freshman classes in colleges, though both should have been disposed of in the grammar , school. But the plea for teaching punctuation and letter forms becomes a faint echo before the clamor that English grammar be more efficiently handled in the secondary schools. The colleges with unvarying 372 • THE SCHooz REVEW insistence repeat that a more intelligent grasp of the elements of English grammar is most desired of the entering freshmen. I quote from a few letters sent in answer to the question, “What recommendations have you to send back to teachers of English in the preparatory schools fitting for your college ?'' From Mr. Seaver, of the Institute of Technology, comes the answer: More explicit instruction in grammar. The commonest violations of mere correctness I encounter are grammatical errors, due chiefly, I think, to hazy ideas about grammar in general. For instance, 5o per cent. of my pupils insist that in such a sentence as “There were three men," there is the subject of zvere, and if you ask them what part of speech z/ere is, they ask you what you mean by part of speech. Another correspondent writes : The pupils may remember the dates of Longfellow's birth and death ; they are confident that they once studied a book on rhetoric that had some- thing in it about figures of speech, that they have read the MercÃamz of Vem- ice and the Lady of the Laâe and some other books — they are not sure what. But they can't tell a sentence from an adverbial clause; they begin each sen- tence upon a new line; their idea of unity resembles the spokes of a cart- wheel. I recommend that the preparatory-school teachers of English burn up the text-books about literature and devote the little time at their disposal to. a more thorough study of the books ofliterature; that they spend less time on text-books of rhetoric and more on practice in composition ; and that, if they are eligible, they take at the first opportunity the Harvard Summer School course entitled English A. • Professor Ganung of Amherst says: There ought to be more drill in simple English grammar, and a more vital, less exclusively. mechanical, approach to the work of composition. Professor Maxcey of Williams College reinforces the thought in this statement : The pupils should give more attention to the principles of grammar and less to the critical side of literature. The boys who come up to college are in the great majority of cases lamentably deficient in the simplest principles of grammar, while they can give all sorts of information about simile and metaphor. It is of more importance to be able to write intelligently “ It is he'' instead of “ It is him,'' and give a rational explanation why one is pref- erable to the other, than to know the difference between metonomy and syn- echdoche, or to know the difference between folio and quarto editions of Shakespeare. I refrain from giving you instances of the wholesale ignorance regarding grammatical principles and the essentials of sentence structure as ÆΛVG Z/SAHV /Λ/ 7TÆ7Æ CO /./.A, GAZ - 373 illustrated by incoming freshmen, for you would have no confidence in my veracity. Professor Damon of Brown urges that the preparatory schools — spend less time on things the college is supposed to teach, and more time on elementary matters, that we may not receive, duly equipped with a certificate, students whose grammar is wholly individual, and who are unable to main- tain in writing the degree of coherence expected of a man of average intelli- gence in casual conversation. Professor Hart of Cornell strikes at the root of our difficulty in his recommendation : The sorest need is the compelling of good English in other departments; e. g., in languages, history, descriptive science. As long as other departments are content to accept poor writing, they will get it. . . . . Our Cornell expe- rience is that the most difficult thing to overcome is the lack of thought. Many of our freshmen seem to believe that anything patched up in grammati- cal shape will pass for writing. Our chief effort goes to training them to think. Consequently I would urge school teachers to train their scholars to z/zm/è ; especially to prepare outlines of composition, before writing the com- positions. Time forbids quoting from the many other interesting com- munications on this point. The gist of them may perhaps be expressed in the view that the preparatory schools should put far heavier stress on teaching sentence structure, unity as applied to the sentence, and the use of connectives ; that they should send up students who actually know the essentials of a para- graph, and know a good paragraph from a bad one ; who can trace the logical development of an idea as formulated in a topic sentence through a paragraph, or through a group of paragraphs ; who can draw up sensible outlines of their themes as a guide before writing ; who can detect manifest incoherence in thought or form. The schools have, within the past ten years, done a splendid work in sending up students increasingly well trained ; this is our best augury for the future. SOPHIE CHANTAL HART. WELLESLEY COLLEGE. • 3^ PROCEEDINGS OF THE EIGHTH CLASSICAL CONFER- ENCE HELD AT ANN ARBOR, MICHIGAN, ON MARCH 27 AND 28. • THE Eighth Classical Conference was held at Ann Arbor, Michigan, March 27 and 28, in connection with the annual meet- ing of the Michigan Schoolmasters' Club. The use of the stereopticon made possible the presentation of a somewhat wider range of subjects than at preceding meetings ; and this Confer- ence differed from those of previous years also in the proportion of time given to historical papers. There was a good attendance at all the sessions. The morning session of Thursday, March 27, was held in the lecture room of the University Museum ; the presiding officer was Professor Samuel Ball Platner, of the Western Reserve Uni- versity. At the afternoon session, held in Newberry Hall, Pro- fessor J. C. Jones, of the University of Missouri, presided. In the evening the members of the Conference were invited to attend a lecture given under the auspices of the Michigan Academy of Sciences in University Hall. On Friday morning, March 28, the members of the Confer- ence were invited to attend a general session of the School- masters' Club, at which were presented two papers of unusual interest to classical teachers, by Professor William Gardner Hale, of the University of Chicago, and Dr. Henry A. Sanders, of the University of Michigan. Friday afternoon a joint session of the Classical and Historical Conferences was held in the lecture room of the Museum ; the presiding officer was Professor Richard Hudson, of the University of Michigan. An invitation was extended to all to unite in a special Good Friday Vesper Service in University Hall at five o'clock ; the program of passion music, arranged by Professor Albert A. Stanley, was of rare impressive- ness. In the evening the members of the conferences were invited to attend a general session of the Schoolmasters' Club in Univer- sity Hall; Professor Francis W. Kelsey, of the University of 374 CASS/CA Z COÄVÆ7ÆÆ ÆAVCÆ ABÄ?OCÆ Æ/Q//VGS 375 IMichigan, gave an illustrated lecture dealing with the recent dis- coveries at Pompeii. - - ~. For convenience of reference the following abstracts of papers and addresses will be numbered in the order of the program. Of the twenty-two papers and addresses three (numbered I 6, I 7, and 22), as already noted, were presented at general sessions of the Schoolmasters' Club, and five (I 2, and 18 to 2 I) at the joint session on Friday afternoon. Five (3, 7, 2o, 2 I, 22) were illustrated by stereopticon slides. I. “The Making and Use of a Latin Lexicon,” by Professor John C. Rolfe, University of Michigan. A well-made Latin lexicon consists of a series of biographies of words, giving an account of their origin, their growth and development, and in some cases of their death. Many of these throw light not only On the language of the Romans, but on their history as well, using that term in its broadest sense. » - A good lexicon-article should treat a word from various points Of view : ç I. From the historical standpoint, a complete record of its existence should be given, from its earliest appearance to its disappearance from the language, or down to the period which is decided on as limiting the scope of the work. In this field account must be taken of the great mass ofliterature which has been lost, particularly in the ante-classical period, as well as of the colloquial language, the sermo coztidiamus and the semrmo p/ebeius, as found in certain inscriptions and to some extent in the liter- ature. Much may be inferred which is absent from our records through a careful study of the available material, and from the Romance lan- guages. Particularly interesting is a study of the causes which led to the disappearance of words from the language, and to the substitution of new terms. This point was treated at some length and the belief expressed that the tendency of monosyllabic words, as such, to dis- appear has been greatly overestimated. 2. From the geographical standpoint : the dialectic differences in the ante-classical and post-classical periods must be taken into account, and the failure of the provincial writers of the classical period to use the language with the correctness and precision of the classicists. The highly artificial character of the sermo urbamus in accentuation, vocabu- lary, and syntax must constantly be regarded. 3. From the etymological and morphological standpoints, including 376 THE SCHOOZ REVIEW the derivation of words, questions of orthography and quantity, double forms with or without a difference of signification, and the absence of certain forms. - • 4. The bulk of a lexicon article deals with semasiology, the study of the changes in meaning of words due to restriction or extension of signification. The fondness of individual writers for certain words, as well as their ** verbal taboos,'' should be considered, - • 5. We must look to the scientific lexicon for Syntactical and stylistic information also. Here, as always, we must keep in mind the historical and geographical points of view, as well as the individual peculiarities of writers, due to the branch of literature which they represent, their degree of education, tendency to innovation or imitation, and the like ; also the development of a writer at various stages of his career. A brief history of Latin lexicography was given, and the problems presented to the makers of special lexicons and of school lexicons were considered. The editor of a school lexicon has in some respects the most difficult task of all, since he must aim at reasonable completeness, must furnish considerable information on antiquities and kindred sub- jects, and at the same time must furnish a book compact enough to be easily handled, which shall sell for a moderate price. It was pointed out that our standard lexicon in this country was issued more than twenty years ago and needs a thorough revision. That a revision has not been made is not the fault of the editor, nor is it due to lack of material for the purpose. The real reason is, that large lexicons are not extensively used in this country, and that our students are not as a rule book buyers. The absolute necessity of a good lexicon for teachers in secondary schools and for college students was pointed out in some detail, and the teachers of Latin were appealed to, in the interests of sound and thorough scholarship, as well as for the sake of hastening the day when our present standard lexicon may be thoroughly revised, to encourage the use of large lexicons, and to insist on it when it is necessary. * 2. The Prometheus of Æschylus and the Prometheus of Shelley,” by Principal J. H. Harris, Michigan Military Academy. After a general introduction touching upon the main points of similarity and difference familiar to students of the two dramas, Mr. Harris narrowed his study to a comparison of the Zeus and Jupiter respectively of Æschylus and Shelley. The Jupiter of Shelley is the personification of all those laws, institutions, customs and beliefs which, CASSYCA Z COÄVÆ7ÆÆ Æ ÂVCÆ ÆÆ?OCÆÆ/Q//VGS - 377 in his view, oppressed mankind and held it in despotic bonds. This is distinctly avowed in the speech of the Spirit of the Hour at the close of the third act : And those foul shapes, abhorred by God and man, Which, under many a name and many a form, Strange, savage, ghastly, dark and execrable, Were Jupiter, the Tyrant of this world. The Zeus of Æschylus, on the other hand, is not an abstraction, he is a person. Everything about him is human, save perhaps his superhuman power. His wrath, his passion, his arbitrary exercise of newly-gained power, his wilfulness, his jealousy — all are vividly impressed upon us. The Zeus of Æschylus is in a choler, a temper, from which he may recover if Prometheus will only yield up the secret. The picture is not of a permanently tyrannical sovereign but of one who has been temporarily baffled and enraged. In proof that Zeus was in a choler — in other words in a bilious mood— Mr. Harris cited the use of the words X6λos and öpyj in various passages, notably lines 29 and 3o; 31 2, 313; 375, 376; I9o, 191 ; 378. These passages, not only in the use of the particular words, but in their spirit and form indicate the temporary nature of Zeus's wrath. • Another evidence of the ** mood *' nature of his anger is to be found in the frequent references to the fact that he is exercising his authority with the temporary arbitrariness and wilfulness of one who has but just come to unlimited and irresponsible sovereignty. In support of this view the following lines were quoted : 35, 36; 95, 96; I 48, I49 ; 3Io ; 389. In this view of the choleric nature of Zeus's wrath may be found, Mr. Harris ventured to suggest, a possible explanation of the apparent irreverence of Æschylus in his representation of Zeus. It has seemed incomprehensible that Æschylus, a man of profound piety and rever- ence, should paint Zeus in such harsh colors. It has been hazarded as an explanation that if we had the lost “ Prometheus Unbound '' we should find this excessive bitterness and harshness removed by a new and more pleasing picture of Zeus than is presented in the “ Prome- theus Bound." Grote's explanation that Zeus, though of superior power and authority, was still only one of many divinities, and that the ennobling conception of Prometheus outweighed any seeming irrever- ence toward Zeus, has been received with much favor and has much to commend it. But if we interpret the attitude of Zeus as a wrathful mood which, under more favorable conditions, will subside, we shall 378 7THVÆ SCÄ/OO Z ARÆ VVÆ VV have less difficulty in comprehending Æschylus's use of the vehement and irreverent language which he so frequently employs. Epithets and characterizations may be directed against a person's temporary state of mind or temper which would not be justifiable or pardonable against his general character. • The Jupiter of Shelley, on the other hand, is not in a mood nor is he giving vent to a passion which may soon subside. His is a perma- nent, unyielding attitude of mind and cannot be changed nor molli- fied. This was inevitable from the end which Shelley had in view and from the interpretation of his Jupiter which has already been given. These widely different conceptions of Zeus are the necessary antecedents to the solution which is in the one drama foreshadowed and in the other accomplished. The thought of a sovereign ruler swept away by a temporary fit of passion necessarily anticipates a recon- ciliation. The conception of a permanently tyrannical sovereign necessarily involves a revolution. Nothing less than the complete overthrow of Jupiter would satisfy the lines on which Shelley's drama is constructed or the motif which underlies it. Reconciliation would be as illogical as it was impossible. 3. “ The De Criscio Collection of Latin Inscriptions,'' by Professor Walter Dennison, Oberlin College. This paper was -illustrated by fifty stereopticon slides, made from original negatives by Principal George R. Swain. “ In the spring of 1897,” said Professor Dennison, ** I made several visits to the magazzino of Ab. Giuseppe de Criscio, the parish priest of Pozzuoli, Italy, who for many years had been a diligent collector of the Latin and Greek inscriptions found in the vicinity of Pozzuoli. The text of his inscriptions he had for the most part communicated to the editors of the Corpus /mscriptiomum Zazimarum, as the tenth volume of that publication testifies ; in the preface to the volume he is mentioned as one of the contributors. During one of my visits he confided to me his desire to dispose of all his inscriptions to some educational institu- tion which would keep the collection intact. Upon my return to America, I mentioned the matter to Mr. Henry P. Glover, of Ypsilanti, Mich., who immediately offered to arrange for the purchase of the col- lection and for its transportation to Ann Arbor. The inscriptions now form a part of the archæological equipment of the University of Michi- gan.” - The collection includes not far from 275 pieces, and is fairly repre- sentative of the most important classes of inscriptions. . CASS/CA Z COMÆÆÆÆΛVCÆ APROCÆ Æ D//VGS 379 There are, first, imscriptiomes sacrae, one addressed to the Penates, another to /upiter Optimus Maximus, and still another to the mumem Augusti. Several are zizu/i operum pub/icorum, two of them mentioning the office of the duoz/iri. By far the greater number are, as one would expect, sepulchral inscriptions. There are Over two hundred of these, and they illustrate practically all types, giving a wide range of modes of expression, abbreviations, and proper names, and throwing light upon many points in private life and family relationship. Among the most interesting is a small slab set up with a rude metrical inscription in memory of a child who had not yet completed ** four times seven months.” There is a large number of fitu/i mi/itares, epitaphs of sailors who had been connected with the imperial fleet stationed at Misenum. They are of unusual interest and value. One gives the name of a mumus classiarium hitherto unknown. This collection also furnishes material for the study of the forms of Latin letters, from the end of the republic to the fifth century A. D. They show cursive letters, as well as both forms of monumental capi- tals, the scriptura momumemta/is and the scriptura actuaria. They illustrate the /-/omga and apices; in one case a point is placed over the long vowel, indicating its length. Divisions of syllables by points also occur. Those which throw light upon disputed cases are S. C (thus divided) and S. T. To the De Criscio collection belong also several brick stamps and a dozen sections of lead pipe bearing inscriptions, besides two terra- cotta ash urns, one of which is dated by the name of the consul of the current year. * The collection includes about a dozen Greek inscriptions, most of which are sepulchral. One of them is metrical, written in the hex- ameter verse, and is Homeric in style. Another gives us Latin words cut with Greek letters. This is of special interest because of the way in which long vowels, especially è and δ, are transliterated. The rela- tive pronoun qui is transliterated KOYE. A third inscription, relating to the importation into Puteoli of a strange eastern goddess, has attracted the attention of the French epigraphist, Professor Cognat, who has recently edited it with comment in the Comptes Aeendus of the Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres. The value of the collection is great from a scientific point of view, but still greater from the pedagogical point of view, as an adjunct to advanced university work in the classics. 38o 7THÆ SCHOOL AE Æ VVÆ VV 4. “ Some Questions of Word-Order and Cadence in their Bearing on the Authorship of the Pseudo-Cæsarian Writings,” by Dr. Clarence Linton Meader, University of Michigan. This paper, which, on account of the length of the program, was read by title, will be published in full later. 5. “ Quintilian on Extempore Speaking in the Light of Later Teaching,” by Professor George V. Edwards, Olivet Col- lege. This paper is printed in full ; see p. 396. 6. Dido—A Character Sketch,” by Mr. J. Raleigh Nelson, Lewis Institute, Chicago. This paper was an attempt at a sympathetic interpretation of Dido's character as presented in the fourth book of Virgil's Æneid. It will be published in full later. . 7. “ Classic Sites in Sicily,” by Professor Benjamin L. D'Ooge, Michigan State Normal College. * Professor D'Ooge gave a lecture illustrated by views which he had gathered during a recent trip through the island. After a brief intro- duction on the history of Sicily under the successive rule of the Greeks, Carthaginians, and Romans, views were shown of the following impor- tant classical localities: Catana, Tauromenium, Syracuse, Agrigen- tum, Segesta, Selinus, Lilybaeum, Drepanum, Eryx, Panormus, Himera, Tyndaris, and Messana, with neighboring Scylla and Charybdis. 8. “An Ancient Misogynist,” by Professor F. S. Goodrich, Albion College. After an introduction treating of the position of woman in general in the Greek world, Professor Goodrich showed, by means of quota- tions from the dramas of Euripides, why it is that this poet has been called a misogynist. He subjected several of the adverse citations to criticism, proving that if read in close relation with the context they cannot be fairly taken as representing the poet's own opinion. Finally he brought forward a convincing series of quotations of an altogether different tenor, reaching the conclusion that Euripides' ideal of wom- ' anhood, as revealed in various characters, was very high ; and that no writer who could give such marvelous delineations of female character could justly be called a misogynist.