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Title: College Teaching - Studies in Methods of Teaching in the College
Author: Klapper, Paul, 1885-1952
Language: English
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Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

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  COLLEGE TEACHING

  STUDIES IN
  METHODS OF TEACHING IN
  THE COLLEGE

  Edited by

  PAUL KLAPPER, Ph.D.

  Associate Professor of Education
  The College of the City of New York

  with an
  Introduction by
  NICHOLAS MURRAY BUTLER, LL.D.

  President of Columbia University

  Yonkers-on-Hudson, New York
  WORLD BOOK COMPANY
  1920



  WORLD BOOK COMPANY
  THE HOUSE OF APPLIED KNOWLEDGE
  Established, 1905, by Caspar W. Hodgson

  YONKERS-ON-HUDSON, NEW YORK
  2126, PRAIRIE AVENUE, CHICAGO

A treasure of wisdom is stored in the colleges of the land. The
teachers are the custodians of knowledge that makes life free and
progressive. This book aims to make the college teacher effective in
handing down this heritage of knowledge, rich and vital, that will
develop in youth the power of right thinking and the courage of right
living. Thus _College Teaching_ carries out the ideal of service as
expressed in the motto of the World Book Company, "Books that Apply
the World's Knowledge to the World's Needs".


  Copyright, 1920, by World Book Company
  Copyright in Great Britain
  _All rights reserved_



PREFACE


The student of general problems of education or of elementary
education finds an extensive literature of varying worth. In the last
decade our secondary schools have undergone radical reorganization and
have assumed new functions. A rich literature on every phase of the
high school is rapidly developing to keep pace with the needs and the
progress of secondary education. The literature on college education
in general and college pedagogy in particular is surprisingly
undeveloped. This dearth is not caused by the absence of problem, for
indeed there is room for much improvement in the organization, the
administration, and the pedagogy of the college. Investigators of
these problems have been considerably discouraged by the facts they
have gathered. This volume is conceived in the hope of stimulating an
interest in the quality of college teaching and initiating a
scientific study of college pedagogy. The field is almost virgin, and
the need for constructive programs is acute. We therefore ask for our
effort the indulgence that is usually accorded a pioneer.

In this age of specialization of study it is evident that no college
teacher, however wide his experience and extensive his education, can
speak with authority on the teaching of all the subjects in the
college curriculum, or even of all the major ones. For this reason
this volume is the product of a coöperating authorship. The editor
devotes himself to the study of general methods of teaching that apply
to almost all subjects and to most teaching situations. In addition,
he coördinates the work of the other contributors. He realizes that
there exists among college professors an active hostility to the study
of pedagogy. The professors feel that one who knows his subject can
teach it. The contributors have been purposely selected in order to
dispel this hostility. They are, one and all, men of undisputed
scholarship who have realized the need of a mode of presentation that
will make their knowledge alive.

Books of multiple authorship often possess too wide a diversity of
viewpoints. The reader comes away with no underlying thought and no
controlling principles. To overcome this defect, so common in books of
this type, a tentative outline was formulated, setting forth a
desirable mode of treating, in the confines of one chapter, the
teaching of any subject in the college curriculum. This outline was
submitted to all contributors for critical analysis and constructive
criticism. The original plan was later modified in accordance with the
suggestions of the contributors. This final outline, which follows,
was then sent to the contributors with the full understanding that
each writer was free to make such modifications as his specialty
demanded and his judgment dictated. This outline is followed in most
of the chapters and gives the book that unifying element necessary in
any book and vital in a work of so large a coöperating authorship.

The editor begs to acknowledge his indebtedness to the many
contributors who have given generously of their time and their labor
with no hope of compensation beyond the ultimate appreciation of those
college teachers who are eager to learn from the experience of others
so that they may the better serve their students.


  TENTATIVE OUTLINE FOR THE TEACHING OF ---- IN THE COLLEGE

  I. Aim of Subject _X_ in the College Curriculum:

     Is it taught for disciplinary values? What are they?

     Is it taught for cultural reasons?

     Is it taught to give necessary information?

     Is it taught to prepare for professional studies?

     Is the aim single or eclectic? Do the aims vary for different
     groups of students? Does this apply to all the courses in your
     specialty? How does the aim govern the methods of teaching?


  II. Place of the Subject in the College Curriculum:

     In what year or years should it be taught?

     What part of the college course--in terms of time or
     credits--should be allotted to it?

     What is the practice in other colleges?

     What course or courses in this subject should be part of the
     general curriculum or be prescribed for students in art, in
     science, in modern languages, or in the preprofessional or
     professional groups?


  III. Organization of the Subject in the College Course:

     Desired sequence of courses in this subject.

     What is the basis of this sequence? Gradation of successive
     difficulties or logical sequence of facts?

     Should these courses be elective or prescribed? All prescribed?
     For all groups of students?

     In what years should the elective work be offered?


  IV. Discussion of Methods of Teaching this Subject:

     Place and relative worth of lecture method, laboratory work,
     recitations, research, case method, field work, assignment from a
     single text or reference reading, etc.

     Discussion of such problems as the following:

     Shall the first course in chemistry be a general and extensive
     course summing up the scope of chemistry, its function in organic
     and inorganic nature, with no laboratory work other than the
     experimentation by the instructor?

     Should students in the social sciences study the subject
     deductively from a book or should the book be postponed and the
     instructor present a series of problems from the social life of
     the student so that the analysis of these may lead the student to
     formulate many of the generalizations that are given early in a
     textbook course?

     Should college mathematics be presented as a series of subjects,
     e.g., algebra (advanced), solid geometry, trigonometry,
     analytical geometry, calculus, etc.? Would it be better to
     present the subject as a single and unified whole in two or three
     semesters?

     Should a student study his mathematics as it is developed in his
     book,--viz., as an intellectual product of a matured mind
     familiar with the subject,--or should the subject grow gradually
     in a more or less unorganized form from a series of mechanical,
     engineering, building, nautical, surveying, and structural
     problems that can be found in the life and environment of the
     student?


  V. Moot Questions in the Teaching of this Subject.

  VI. How judge whether the subject has been of worth to the student?

     How test whether the aims of this subject have been realized?

     How test how much the student has carried away? What means,
     methods, and indices exist aside from the traditional
     examination?


  VII. Bibliography on the Pedagogy of this Subject as Far as It Applies
       to College Teaching. The aim of the bibliography
       should be to give worth-while contributions that present
       elaborations of what is here presented or points of view and
       modes of procedure that differ from those here set forth.

                                                 PAUL KLAPPER
  _The College of the City of New York_



CONTENTS
                                                                     PAGE

INTRODUCTION                                                         xiii

By NICHOLAS MURRAY BUTLER, Ph.D., LL.D. President of Columbia
University. Author of _The Meaning of Education_, _True and False
Democracy_, etc. Editor of _Educational Review_


PART ONE--THE INTRODUCTORY STUDIES

CHAPTER

I    HISTORY AND PRESENT TENDENCIES OF THE AMERICAN COLLEGE             3
     By STEPHEN PIERCE DUGGAN, Ph.D. Professor of Education, The
     College of the City of New York. Author of _A Student's
     History of Education_

II   PROFESSIONAL TRAINING FOR COLLEGE TEACHING                        31
     By SIDNEY E. MEZES, Ph.D., LL.D. President of The College of
     the City of New York. Formerly President of University of
     Texas. Author of _Ethics, Descriptive and Explanatory_

III  GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF COLLEGE TEACHING                            43
     By PAUL KLAPPER, Ph.D. Associate Professor of Education, The
     College of the City of New York. Author of _Principles of
     Educational Practice_, _The Teaching of English_, etc.


PART TWO--THE SCIENCES

IV   THE TEACHING OF BIOLOGY                                           85
     By T. W. GALLOWAY, Ph.D., Litt.D. Professor of Zoölogy,
     Beloit College. Author of _Textbook of Zoölogy_, _Biology of
     Sex for Parents and Teachers_, _Use of Motives in Moral
     Education_, etc.

V    THE TEACHING OF CHEMISTRY                                        110
     By LOUIS KAHLENBERG, PH.D. Director of the Course in
     Chemistry and Professor of Chemistry, University of
     Wisconsin. Author of _Outlines of Chemistry_, _Laboratory
     Exercises in Chemistry_, _Chemistry Analysis_, _Chemistry
     and Its Relation to Daily Life_, etc.

VI   THE TEACHING OF PHYSICS                                          126
     By HARVEY B. LEMON, Ph.D. Assistant Professor of Physics,
     University of Chicago

VII  THE TEACHING OF GEOLOGY                                          142
     By T. C. CHAMBERLIN, Ph.D., LL.D., Sc.D. Professor and Head
     of Department of Geology and Director of Walker Museum,
     University of Chicago. Author of _Geology of Wisconsin_,
     _The Origin of the Earth_. Editor of _The Journal of Geology_

VIII THE TEACHING OF MATHEMATICS                                      161
     By G. A. MILLER, Ph.D. Professor of Mathematics, University
     of Illinois. Author of _Determinants_, _Mathematical
     Monographs_ (co-author), _Theory and Applications of Groups
     of Finite Order_ (co-author), _Historical Introduction to the
     Mathematical Literature_, etc. Co-editor of _American Year
     Book_ and _Encyclopédie des Sciences Mathématiques_

IX   PHYSICAL EDUCATION IN THE COLLEGE                                183
     By THOMAS A. STOREY, M.D., Ph.D. Professor of Hygiene, The
     College of the City of New York. State Inspector of Physical
     Training, New York. Secretary-General, Fourth International
     Congress of School Hygiene, Buffalo, 1913. Executive-Secretary,
     United States Interdepartmental Social Hygiene Board. Author
     of various contributions to standard works on physiology,
     hygiene, and physical training


PART THREE--THE SOCIAL SCIENCES

X    THE TEACHING OF ECONOMICS                                        217
     By FRANK A. FETTER, Ph.D., LL.D. Professor of Political
     Economy, Princeton University. Author of _Economic
     Principles and Modern Economic Problems_

XI   THE TEACHING OF SOCIOLOGY                                        241
     By ARTHUR J. TODD, Ph.D. Professor of Sociology and Director
     of the Training Course for Social and Civic Work, University
     of Minnesota. Author of _The Primitive Family as an
     Educational Factor_, _Theories of Social Progress_

XII  THE TEACHING OF HISTORY
  A. American History                                                 256
     By HENRY W. ELSON, A.M., Litt.D. President of Thiel College.
     Formerly Professor of History, Ohio University. Author of
     _History of the United States_, _The Story of the Old World_
    (with Cornelia E. MacMullan), etc.

  B. Modern European History                                          263
     By EDWARD KREHBIEL, Ph.D. Professor of Modern European
     History, Leland Stanford University. Author of _The
     Interdict_, _Nationalism_, _War and Society_

XIII THE TEACHING OF POLITICAL SCIENCE                                279
     By CHARLES GROVE HAINES, Ph.D. Professor of Government,
     University of Texas. Author of _Conflict over Judicial
     Powers in the United States prior to 1870_, _The American
     Doctrine of Judicial Supremacy_, _The Teaching of
     Government_ (Report of Committee on Instruction, Political
     Science Association)

XIV  THE TEACHING OF PHILOSOPHY                                       302
     By FRANK THILLY, Ph.D., LL.D. Professor of Philosophy, Dean
     of the College of Arts and Sciences, Cornell University.
     Author of _Introduction to Ethics_, _History of Philosophy_

XV   THE TEACHING OF ETHICS                                           320
     By HENRY NEUMANN, Ph.D. Leader of the Brooklyn Society for
     Ethical Culture. Formerly of the Department of Education,
     The College of the City of New York, Author of _Moral Values
     in Secondary Education_

XVI  THE TEACHING OF PSYCHOLOGY                                       334
     By ROBERT S. WOODWORTH, Ph.D. Professor of Psychology,
     Columbia University. Author of _Dynamic Psychology_, _Le
     Mouvement_, _Care of the Body_, _Elements of Physiological
     Psychology_ (with George Trumbull Ladd)

XVII THE TEACHING OF EDUCATION
  A. Teaching the History of Education                                347
     By HERMAN H. HORNE, Ph.D. (Harvard). Professor of the
     History of Education and the History of Philosophy, New
     York University. Author of _The Philosophy of Education_,
     _The Psychological Principles of Education_, _Free Will and
     Human Responsibility_, etc.

  B. Teaching Educational Theory                                      359
     By FREDERICK E. BOLTON, Ph.D. Dean of the College of
     Education, University of Washington. Author of _Principles
     of Education_, _The Secondary School System of Germany_


PART FOUR--THE LANGUAGES AND LITERATURES

XVIII THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH LITERATURE                              379
     By CALEB T. WINCHESTER, L.H.D. Professor of English
     Literature, Wesleyan University. Author of _Some Principles
     of Literary Criticism_, _A Group of English Essayists_,
     _William Wordsworth: How to Know Him_, etc.

XIX  THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH COMPOSITION                              389
     By HENRY SEIDEL CANBY, Ph.D. Adviser in Literary Composition,
     Yale University. Author of _The Short Story in English_,
     _College Sons and College Fathers_, etc.

XX   THE TEACHING OF THE CLASSICS                                     404
     By WILLIAM K. PRENTICE, Ph.D. Professor of Greek, Princeton
     University, Author of _Greek and Latin inscriptions in Syria_

XXI  THE TEACHING OF THE ROMANCE LANGUAGES                            424
     By WILLIAM A. NITZE, Ph.D. Professor and Head of Department
     of Romance Languages, University of Chicago. Author of _The
     Grail Romance_, _Glastonbury and the Holy Grail_, _Handbook
     of French Phonetics_, etc. Contributor to _New International
     Encyclopedia_

XXII THE TEACHING OF GERMAN                                           440
     By E. PROKOSCH, Ph.D. Late Professor of Germanic Languages,
     University of Texas. Author of _Teaching of German in
     Secondary Schools_, _Phonetic Lessons in German_, _Sounds
     and History of the German Language_, etc.


PART FIVE--THE ARTS

XXIII THE TEACHING OF MUSIC                                           457
     By EDWARD DICKINISON, Litt.D. Professor of History and
     Criticism of Music, Oberlin College. Author of _Music in the
     History of the Western Church_, _The Study of the History of
     Music_, _The Education of a Music Lover_, _Music and the
     Higher Education_

XXIV THE TEACHING OF ART                                              475
     By HOLMES SMITH, A.M. Professor of Drawing and the History
     of Art, Washington University. Author of various articles
     in magazines on art topics


PART SIX--VOCATIONAL SUBJECTS

XXV  THE TEACHING OF ENGINEERING SUBJECTS                             501
     By IRA O. BAKER, C.E., D. Eng'g. Professor of Civil
     Engineering, University of Illinois. Author of _Treatise on
     Masonry Construction_, _Treatise on Roads and Pavements_

XXVI THE TEACHING OF MECHANICAL DRAWING                               525
     By JAMES D. PHILLIPS, B.S. Assistant Dean and Professor of
     Drawing, College of Engineering, University of Wisconsin,
     Author of _Elements of Descriptive Geometry_ (with A. V.
     Millar), _Mechanical Drawing for Secondary Schools_ (with
     F. O. Crawshaw), _Mechanical Drawing for Colleges and
     Universities_ (with H. D. Orth) and HERBERT D. ORTH, B.S.
     Assistant Professor of Mechanical Drawing and Descriptive
     Geometry, University of Wisconsin. Author of _Mechanical
     Drawing for Colleges and Universities_ (with J. D. Phillips)

XXVII THE TEACHING OF JOURNALISM                                      533
     By TALCOTT WILLIAMS, A.M. LL.D., Litt.D. Director, School of
     Journalism, Columbia University

XXVIII BUSINESS EDUCATION                                             555
     By FREDERICK B. ROBINSON, Ph.D. Professor of Economics and
     Dean of the School of Business and Civic Administration,
     College of the City of New York


INDEX                                                                 577



INTRODUCTION


It is characteristic of the American people to have profound faith in
the power of education. Since Colonial days the American college has
played a large part in American life and has trained an overwhelming
proportion of the leaders of American opinion. There was a time when
the American college was a relatively simple institution of a uniform
type, but that time has passed. The term "college" is now used in a
variety of significations, a number of which are very new and very
modern indeed. Some of these uses of the term are quite indefensible,
as when one speaks of a college of engineering, or of law, or of
medicine, or of journalism, or of architecture. Such use of the word
merely confuses and makes impossible clear thinking as to educational
institutions and educational aims.

The term "college" can be properly used only of an institution which
offers training in the liberal arts and sciences to youth who have
completed a standard secondary school course of study. The purpose of
college teaching is to lay the foundation for intelligent and
effective specialization later on, to open the mind to new
interpretations and new understandings both of man and of nature, and
to give instruction in those standards of judgment and appreciation,
the possession and application of which are the marks of the truly
educated and cultivated man. The size of a college is a matter of
small importance, except that under modern conditions a large college
and one in immediate contact with the life of a university is almost
certain to command larger intellectual resources than is an
institution of a different type. The important thing about a college
is its spirit, its clearness of aim, its steadiness of purpose, and
the opportunity which it affords for direct personal contact between
teacher and student. Given these, the question of size is unimportant.

There was a time when it was felt, probably correctly, that a
satisfactory college training could be had by requiring all students
to follow a single prescribed course of study. At that time, college
students were drawn almost exclusively from families and homes of a
single type or kind. Their purposes in after-life were similar, and
their range of intellectual sympathy, while intense, was rather
narrow. The last fifty years have changed all this. College students
are now drawn from families and homes of every conceivable type and
kind. Their purposes in after-life are very different, while new
subjects of study have been multiplied many fold. The old and useful
tradition of Latin, Greek, and mathematics, together with a little
history and literature, as the chief elements in a college course of
study, had to give way when first the natural sciences, and then the
social sciences, claimed attention and when even these older subjects
of study were themselves subdivided into many parts.

These changes forced a change in the old-fashioned program of college
study, and led to the various substitutes for it that now exist.
Whether a college prefers the elective system of study, or the group
system, or some other method of combining instruction that is regarded
as fundamental with other instruction that is regarded as less so, the
fact is that all these are simply different kinds of attempt to meet a
new condition which is the natural result of intellectual and economic
changes. Just now the college is in a state of transition. It is not
at all clear precisely what its status will be a generation hence, or
how far present tendencies may continue to increase, or how far they
may be counteracted by a swing of the pendulum in the opposite
direction. Therefore this is a time to describe rather than to
dogmatize, and it is description which is the characteristic mark of
the important series of papers which constitute the several chapters
in the present volume.

A careful reading of these papers is commended not only to the great
army of college teachers and college students, but to that still
greater army of those who, whether as alumni or as parents or as
citizens, are deeply concerned with the preservation of the influence
and character of the American college for its effect upon our
national standards of thought and action.

American colleges are of two distinct types, and it may be that the
future has in store a different position for each type. The true
distinction between colleges is according as they are separate or are
incorporated in a university system, and not at all as to whether they
are large or small. A separate college, such as Amherst or Beloit or
Grinnell or Pomona, has its own peculiar problems of support and
administration. The university college, on the other hand, such as
Columbia or Harvard or Chicago or the college of any state university,
has quite different problems of support and of administration. It is
not unlikely that the distinction between these two types of college
will become more sharply marked as years go by, and that eventually
they will appear to be two distinct institutions rather than two types
of one and the same institution.

Meanwhile, we have to deal with the college as it is, in all its
varied forms, but characteristically American whatever its form. The
American college has little or no resemblance to the English Public
School or to the French Lycée or to the German Gymnasium. It is
something more than any one of these, and at the same time something
less. It differs from them all very much as the conditions of American
life differ from those of English or of French or of German life. The
college may or may not involve residence, but when it does involve
residence, it is at its best. It is then that the largest amount of
carefully ordered and stimulating influence can be brought to bear
upon the daily life of growing and expanding youth, and it is then and
only then, that youth can get the inestimable benefits which follow
from daily and hourly contact with others of like age, like tastes,
like habits, and like purposes. Indeed, it has often been said that
the college gives more through its opportunities which attach to
residence, than through its opportunities which attach to instruction.

Almost every conceivable problem that can arise in college life and
college work, is discussed in the following pages. It is now coming
to be understood that the health of the college student is as much a
matter of concern as his instruction, and that a college is not doing
its full duty by those who seek its doors, when it merely provides
libraries, laboratories, and skillful teachers. It must also provide
for such conditions of residence, of food, of exercise, and of
frequent medical examination and inspection, as shall protect and
preserve the health of those who come to take advantage of its
instruction.

There is one other point which should not be overlooked, and that is
the literally immense influence exerted in America by that solidarity
of college sentiment and college opinion which is kept alive by
organizations of former college students scattered throughout the
land. This, again, is a peculiarly American development, and it serves
to unite the college and public sentiment much more closely than any
formal tie could possibly do. Indeed, it illustrates how completely
the American people claim the college as their own. The man or woman
who has once been a college student never ceases to be a member of
that particular college or to labor to extend its influence and to
increase its usefulness.

Every reader of this volume should approach it in a spirit of
sympathetic understanding of American higher education, and of the
college as the oldest instrument of that higher education and still
one of the chief elements in it.

                                         NICHOLAS MURRAY BUTLER
  _Columbia University_



PART ONE

THE INTRODUCTORY STUDIES


  CHAPTER

    I  HISTORY AND PRESENT TENDENCIES OF THE AMERICAN COLLEGE
           _Stephen P. Duggan_

   II  PROFESSIONAL TRAINING FOR COLLEGE TEACHING
           _Sidney E. Mezes_

  III  GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF COLLEGE TEACHING
           _Paul Klapper_



I

HISTORY AND PRESENT TENDENCIES OF THE AMERICAN COLLEGE


1. THE COLONIAL PERIOD

=The predominance of the religious motive=

The American colonies were founded chiefly by Englishmen who came to
America for a variety of reasons. Some of these were economic and
political, but the most important of their reasons was the desire to
practice their religious convictions with greater freedom than was
permitted at home. Apart from the state religion, however, all the
colonists were animated by a love for English institutions which they
transplanted to the New World, and among these institutions were the
grammar school and the college. Wherever the Reformation had been
chiefly a religious rather than a political and ecclesiastical
movement, the interest in education and the effect upon it were direct
and immediate. This was true where Calvinism prevailed, as in the
Netherlands, Scotland, and among the Puritans in England. Hence it is
natural to find that the first effective movements in America toward
the establishment of educational institutions, both elementary and
higher, should have taken place in New England.

A large proportion of university graduates were included among the
settlers of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. They were chiefly graduates
of Cambridge, which had always been religiously more tolerant than
Oxford, and especially of Emmanuel College, which was the stronghold
of Puritanism at Cambridge. It was natural that these men, leaders in
the affairs of the colony, should want to establish a New Cambridge
University, but it is astonishing that they were able to do so as
early as 1636, only six years after the founding of this colony. Two
years later the college was named after John Harvard, a clergyman and
a graduate of Emmanuel, who upon his death bequeathed half his estate
and all his fine library of three hundred volumes to the college. The
religious motive predominated in the founding of Harvard, for though
the colonists longed "to advance learning and perpetuate it to
posterity," they were actuated chiefly by dread "to leave an
illiterate ministry to the churches, when our present Ministers shall
lie in the Dust."

Harvard remained the sole instrument in the colonies for that purpose
for more than half a century. In 1693 the College of William and Mary
was founded in Virginia, with the most generous endowment of any
pre-Revolutionary college, generous because of the help received from
the mother country. It was the child of the Church of England, and its
president and its professors had to subscribe to the Thirty-nine
Articles. Subscription to a religious creed was also demanded of the
president and tutors of the third American college, founded in 1701.
This Collegiate Institute, as it was called, moved from place to place
for more than a decade, but finally it settled permanently in New
Haven in 1717. It afterward received the name of Yale College in honor
of Elihu Yale, who had given it generous assistance.

As a result of the founding of these three institutions, the New
England and the Southern colonies had their need for ministers fairly
well supplied, but this was not yet true of the Middle colonies.
However, the Presbyterians had become particularly strong in the
Middle colonies, and their religious zeal resulted in the
establishment of the College of New Jersey, now Princeton University,
in 1746.

A few years later Benjamin Franklin advanced for the college a new
_raison d'être_. In 1749 he published a pamphlet entitled "Proposals
Relating to the Education of Youth in Pennsylvania," in which he
advocated the establishment of an academy whose purpose was not the
training of ministers but the secular one of developing the practical
virtue necessary in the opening up of a new country. The Academy was
opened in 1751, and the charter, granted in 1755, designated the
institution as "The College, Academy, and Charitable School of
Philadelphia." Though the extremely modern organization and curriculum
suggested by Franklin were not realized, the institution, which was
afterward called "The University of Pennsylvania," offered the most
liberal curriculum of any college in the colonies up to the
Revolution.

The human motive was uppermost also in the establishment of King's
College in 1754. The colonial assembly desired its establishment to
enhance the welfare and reputation of the colony, and the only
connection between the college and the Church of England lay in the
requirement that the president should be a communicant of that church
and that the morning and evening service of the college should be
performed out of the liturgy of that church. But the religious motive
again comes to the fore in the establishment of Brown University at
Providence, Rhode Island, in 1764, primarily to train ministers for
the Baptist churches; of Queens, afterwards named Rutgers, in 1766, to
provide ministers for the Dutch Reformed churches; and of Dartmouth,
in 1769, from which it was hoped at first that the evangelization of
the Indians would proceed.

=Character of the colonial college=

These colonial colleges in their histories bear a great resemblance to
one another. They were almost all born in poverty and led a desperate
financial existence for many years. In some cases survival was
possible only as the result of the untiring self-sacrifice of some
great personality like Eleazar Wheelock, the first president of
Dartmouth; in all cases, of the devotion of teachers and officers.
Their beginnings were all small; in some cases the president was the
only member of the instructing staff and taught all the subjects of
the curriculum. The students were few in number, the equipment was
simple, the buildings usually consisting of a house for the president,
in which he often heard recitations, a dormitory for the students, and
a college hall. Libraries, laboratories, and recreational facilities
were usually conspicuous by their absence. In fact, as the curriculum
consisted almost exclusively of philosophy, Greek, Latin, rhetoric,
and a little mathematics, there was no great need of much equipment.
The classics were taught by the intensive grammatical method; in
philosophy there was a great deal of dialectical disputation;
rhetoric was studied as an aid to oratory; mathematics included only
arithmetic and geometry. The aim of instruction was, not to give a
wide acquaintance with many fields of knowledge for cultural and
appreciative purposes, but rather to develop power through intensive
exercise upon a restricted curriculum. But the value of the materials
utilized to produce power which would function in oratory, debate, and
diplomacy is splendidly illustrated in the decades before the
Revolution. The contest between the colonies and the mother country
was essentially a rational contest in which questions of
constitutional law and, indeed, of the fundamental principles of civil
and political existence were debated. Splendidly did the leaders of
public opinion in the colonies, almost every one of whom was a
graduate of a colonial college, defend the cause of the colonists in
pamphlet and debate. And when debate was followed by war, twenty-five
per cent of the twenty-five hundred graduates of the colonial colleges
were found in the military service of their country. At the close of
the struggle for independence, it was again upon the shoulders of the
men who had gained vision and character in the colonial colleges that
the burden fell of organizing the mutually suspicious and antagonistic
colonies into one nation. Space will not permit even of the
enumeration of the great leaders who graduated from all the colonial
colleges, but an idea of the service rendered by those institutions to
the new nation may be obtained by mentioning the names of a few
statesmen who received their instruction in one of the least of them,
William and Mary. In its classrooms were taught Thomas Jefferson,
Benjamin Harrison, Edmund Randolph, James Monroe, and John Marshall.


2. THE NATIONAL ERA

=French influence=

French influence upon American political and intellectual life had
become quite pronounced as the result of the contact between the
leaders of the two peoples during and after the Revolution. That
influence was reflected in the colleges. Instruction in the French
language was offered in several of the colleges before the close of
the eighteenth century, and a chair of French was established at
Columbia as early as 1779 and at William and Mary in 1793. The
secularizing influence of the French united also with the
democratizing influence of the Revolution in diminishing the influence
of the church upon the colleges and emphasizing the influence of the
State and especially the relations between college and people. Of the
fourteen colleges founded between 1776 and 1800, the majority were
established upon a non-sectarian basis. These included institutions of
a private nature like Washington and Lee, Bowdoin, and Union, as well
as institutions closely related to the state governments like the
Universities of North Carolina and of Vermont. There can hardly be any
doubt that the French system of centralized administration in civil
affairs influenced the establishment of the University of the State of
New York. The University of the State of New York is not a local
institution, but a body of nine regents elected by the legislature to
control the administration of education throughout the State of New
York. Though organized by Alexander Hamilton, it was in all
probability much influenced by John Jay, who returned from France in
1784. But the most potent factor in the spread of French influence in
the early history of our country was Thomas Jefferson. While Jefferson
was American minister to France, he studied the French system of
education and embodied ideas taken from it in the organization of the
University of Virginia. This occupied much of his attention during the
last two decades of his life. The University was to be entirely
non-sectarian and had for its purpose (1) to form statesmen,
legislators, and judges for the commonwealth; (2) to expand the
principles and structure of government, the laws which regulate the
intercourse of states, and a sound spirit of legislation; (3) to
harmonize and promote the interests of all forms of industry, chiefly
by well-informed views of political economy; (4) to develop the
reasoning faculties of youth and to broaden their minds and develop
their character; (5) to enlighten them with knowledge, especially of
the physical sciences which will advance the material welfare of the
people. These progressive views of what the college should aim to do
were associated with equally advanced views of college administration,
such as the elective system and the importation of professors from
abroad. The remarkable vision, constructive imagination, courage, and
faith of Jefferson in his break with what was traditional and
authoritative in education has been justified by the fine career of
the university which he founded.

=The state universities system=

All the colleges that were established before the Revolution, and most
of those between the Revolution and the year 1800, had received direct
assistance from the colonial or state government either in grants of
land, money, the proceeds of lotteries, or special taxes. Most of
them, however, were dependent upon private foundations and controlled
by denominational bodies. The secularizing influence from France, the
growing interest in civic and political affairs, and the democratic
spirit resulting from the Revolution combined to develop a distrust of
the colleges as they were organized and a desire to bring them under
the control of the state. This was apparent in 1779, when the
legislature of Pennsylvania withdrew the charter of the college of
Philadelphia and created a new corporation to be known as "The
Trustees of the University of the State of Pennsylvania"; it was shown
in 1787 when Columbia College was granted a new charter by the state
legislature, under which the board of trustees were all drawn from the
Board of Regents of the State; it was made most evident in 1816 when
the legislature of New Hampshire transformed Dartmouth College into a
university without the consent of the board of trustees and empowered
the governor and council to appoint a Board of Overseers. In the
celebrated Dartmouth College case, 1819, the old board of trustees,
when defeated before the Supreme Court of New Hampshire in their suit
for the recovery of property which had been seized, carried the case
to the Supreme Court of the United States and engaged Daniel Webster
as their counsel. The Court declared the act of the New Hampshire
legislature in violation of the provision of the Constitution of the
United States which reads that "No state shall pass any ... law
impairing the obligation of contracts." The decision drew a sharp
distinction between public and private corporations, and a necessary
inference was that most of the existing institutions for higher
education were in the latter class. The result was to strengthen the
rising demand for publicly controlled institutions. The Southern and
Western states across the Alleghanies that were on the point of
framing state constitutions made provision for state universities
under state control.

The intention to provide higher education freely for the people had
already received its greatest impetus in an Act of Congress passed
shortly after the passage of the Ordinance of 1787, providing for the
organization of the Northwest Territory. By that act two entire
townships of public land were reserved to the states to be erected out
of the territory, the proceeds of the sale of which were to be devoted
to the establishment of a state university. These universities
followed swiftly upon the establishment of new states, and the
democratic ideal that prevailed is shown in the determination that the
state university was to be the crown of the public educational system
of the state. This is well illustrated in the provision of the
constitution of Indiana, adopted in the very year of the Dartmouth
College decision, 1819, which reads, "It shall be the duty of the
General Assembly, as soon as circumstances will permit, to provide by
law for a general system of education, ascending in regular gradation
from township schools to a state university, wherein tuition shall be
gratis and equally open to all." Circumstances did permit in the
following year, and the provisions of the bill materialized. The
national policy of granting public lands for educational purposes to
new states was continued, and one or two townships were devoted in
each case to the establishment of a state university. National
assistance to higher education was given on an immense scale in 1862,
when the Morrill Act was passed providing for the grant of 30,000
acres of land for each representative and senator, to be devoted to
the support in each state of a higher institution of learning, in
which technical and agricultural branches should be taught. Within
twenty years every state in the Union had taken advantage of this
splendid endowment, either to found a new state university which would
comply with the requirements as regards courses of instruction or to
establish an agricultural college as an independent institution, or in
connection with some already existing institution. Not only do some of
the finest state universities like those of California, Illinois, and
Minnesota owe their origins to the Morrill Act, but others owe to it
their real beginnings as institutions of collegiate grade. Up to the
passage of the Morrill Act a dozen state universities struggled to
maintain themselves with meager revenues and few students. They were
trying to do broad academic work, but by no means reached the
standards of the strong colleges in the eastern part of the country.

The establishment of state-supported and state-controlled universities
in the commonwealths organized after the close of the eighteenth
century by no means put an end to the establishment of colleges upon
religious foundations. Denominational zeal was very strong in the
decades preceding the Civil War, and the church was the center of
community life in the newly settled regions. The need to provide an
intelligent ministry and also a higher civilization led to the
establishment of many small sectarian colleges in the new states.
Despite the fact that practically all of them would today be
considered only of secondary grade, they accomplished a splendid work
and provided ideals and standards of intellectual life in a new
country whose population was engaged chiefly in supplying the physical
needs of life. The response made in the Civil War by the institutions
of higher education throughout the United States, whether privately or
publicly supported, was a magnificent return for the sacrifices
endured in their establishment and maintenance. Everywhere throughout
the North the colleges were depleted of instructors and students who
had entered the ranks, and in the South nearly all the colleges were
compelled to close their doors. Upon the shoulders of their graduates
fell the burden of directing civil and military affairs in state and
nation.


3. THE MODERN ERA

Were a visitor to Harvard or Columbia in 1860 to revisit it today, the
changes he would observe would be startling. The elective system,
graduate studies, professional and technical schools, an allied
woman's college, and a summer session are a few of the most noticeable
activities incorporated since 1860. It would be impossible to set any
date for the beginning of this transformation, so gradual and subtle
has it been, but the accession of Dr. Charles W. Eliot to the
presidency of Harvard College in 1869 and the establishment of Johns
Hopkins University in 1876 are definite landmarks.

This chapter is a history of the American college, and space will not
permit of a detailed description of these activities but simply of a
narration of the way they developed and of the forces which brought
them into being.

=The curriculum and the elective system=

It has already been mentioned that the curriculum of the average
American college at the beginning of the nineteenth century differed
but little from the curriculum followed in the middle of the
seventeenth. The reason is simple. The curriculum is based upon the
biological principle of adaptation to environment, and the environment
of the average American of 1800 differed but slightly from his
ancestor of a century and a half previous. The growth of the
curriculum follows, slowly it is often true, upon the growth of
knowledge. The growth of knowledge during the seventeenth and
eighteenth centuries was slow and insignificant compared to its
marvelous growth in the nineteenth century, particularly in the last
half of it. The great discoveries in science, first in chemistry, then
in physics and biology, resulted in their gradually displacing much of
the logic and philosophy which had maintained the prime place in the
old curriculum. The interest aroused in the French language and
literature by our Revolution; in the Spanish by the South American
wars of independence; and in the German by the distinguished scholars
who studied in the German universities during the middle decades of
the nineteenth century, caused a demand that those languages as well
as English have a place in the curriculum. This could be secured only
by making them partly alternatives to the classical languages. The
Industrial Revolution, based as it was upon the application of science
to industry, not only gave an impetus to the establishment of
technical schools, but by revolutionizing the production and
distribution of wealth pushed into the curriculum the science that
deals with wealth, political economy. The growth of cities that
followed in the wake of the Industrial Revolution, the conflicts
between the interests of classes,--viz., landowners, capitalists, and
laborers,--the rapid decay of feudalism and the spread of political
democracy following the French Revolution, the expansion of commerce
to all corners of the globe and the resulting development of
colonialism, all these human interests gave a new meaning to the study
of history and politics which caused them to secure a place of great
prominence in the curriculum during the last quarter of the nineteenth
century.

It is perfectly obvious that as the time at the student's disposal
remained the same, if he were to pursue even a part of the new subject
matter that was gradually admitted into the curriculum, the course of
study could no longer remain wholly prescribed and he would have to be
granted some freedom of choice. The growth in number of students also
produced changes in administration favorable to the introduction of
the elective system. In the early history of the American college one
instructor taught a single class in all subjects, and it was not until
1776 that the transfer was made at Harvard from the teaching of
classes by one instructor to the teaching of each subject by one
instructor. With increase in numbers the students were unable to
receive in each year instruction by every member of the teaching
staff. In spite of the quite obvious advantages of the elective
system, it was obstinately resisted by the defenders of the classics
and also of orthodox religion and at first made but slow progress.
Thomas Jefferson gave it the first great impetus when he made it an
essential element in the organization of the University of Virginia in
1825. Francis Wayland, president of Brown University and one of the
few college presidents of his day who were educators in the modern
sense, made a splendid exposition and defense of it in 1850 in his
"Report to the Corporation of Brown University on Changes in the
System of Collegiate Education." But the elective system waited upon
the elevation of Charles W. Eliot to the presidency of Harvard in 1869
for its general realization; in 1872 the senior year at Harvard became
wholly elective; in 1879, the junior year; in 1884, the sophomore
year; and in 1894 the single absolute requirement that remained in the
entire college course was English A. The action of Harvard was rapidly
imitated to a more or less thorough extent throughout the country.

Probably no two colleges administer the elective system in the same
way. There has been a considerable revulsion of opinion against
unrestricted election of individual subjects. In many colleges the
subjects of the curriculum were arranged into groups which must be
elected _in toto_. This resulted in the multiplication of bachelor's
degrees, each indicating the special course--arts, science,
philosophy, or literature--which had been followed. At the present
time the tendency is to prescribe the subjects considered essential to
a liberal education chiefly in the first two years and to permit
election among groups of related courses in the last two. This has
maintained the unity that formerly prevailed and introduced greater
breadth into the curriculum. It has also brought the new bachelor's
degrees into disfavor, and today the majority of the best colleges
give only the A.B. degree for the regular academic course. Valuable
modifications in the elective system are constantly being adopted. One
such is the preceptorial system at Princeton and elsewhere, under
which the preceptors personally supervise the reading and study of a
small group of students and can therefore advise them from personal
knowledge of their capacity. Another is the system of honor courses
adopted at Columbia and elsewhere, whereby a distinction is made
between mere "passmen" and students desirous of attaining high rank in
courses that are carefully organized in sequence.

=German Influence and graduate study=

The introduction of new subjects into the curriculum of the college
and the adoption by it of the elective system owe much to German
influence upon American education. Though this influence was partly
exerted by the study of the German language and literature, it
resulted chiefly from the residence of American students at German
universities. The first American to be granted the degree of Doctor of
Philosophy from a German university was Edward Everett, who received
it at Göttingen in 1817. He was followed by George Ticknor, George
Bancroft, Henry W. Longfellow, John Lothrop Motley, Frederick Henry
Hedge, William Dwight Whitney, Theodore Dwight Woolsey, and a host of
scholars who shed luster upon American education and scholarship in
the mid-nineteenth century. Most of these men became associated with
American colleges in some capacity and had a profound influence upon
their ideals, organization, and methods of teaching. They came back
devoted advocates of wide and deep scholarship, of independent
research, and of the need of such scholastic tools as libraries and
laboratories. But especially did they give an impetus to the movement
in favor of freedom of choice (_Lernfreiheit_) in studies. Only by the
adoption of such a principle could the pronounced tastes or needs of
individual students be satisfied.

Some slight effort had been made in the first four decades of the
nineteenth century by a few of the colleges to conform to the desire
of students for further study in some chosen field, but the results
were negligible. In 1847 Yale established a "department of philosophy
and the arts for scientific and graduate study leading to the degree
of bachelor of philosophy." The first degree of doctor of philosophy
was bestowed in 1861, but a distinct graduate school was not organized
until 1872. Harvard announced in the same year the establishment of a
graduate department to which only holders of the bachelor's degree
would be admitted and in which the degrees of doctor of philosophy and
doctor of science would be conferred. The graduate department was not
made a separate school, however, until 1890.

The greatest impetus to the establishment of graduate schools in the
American universities was made by the establishment of Johns Hopkins
University in 1876. Upon its foundation the chief aim was announced to
be the development of instruction in the methods of scientific
research. The influence of this institution upon the development of
higher education in the United States has been incalculably great.
Johns Hopkins was not a transplanted German university. The unique
place of the college in American education was shown by the fact that
graduate schools have followed the lead of Johns Hopkins in building
upon the college. Even Clark University at Worcester, founded in 1889
upon a purely graduate basis, established an undergraduate college in
1902.

One of the most gratifying features of higher education in the United
States during the past quarter century has been the extension of
graduate schools to the strong state universities. Research work in
them usually began in the school of agriculture, where the intensive
study of the sciences, particularly chemistry and biology, had such
splendid results in improved farming and dairying that legislatures
were gradually persuaded to extend the support for research to purely
liberal studies. With the growth and development of graduate schools
in this country, the practice of going to Europe for advanced
specialized study has abated considerably. It will probably so
continue in the future, particularly with regard to Germany. On the
other hand, should the new ideal of international good will become a
living reality, education through a wide system of exchange professors
and students may be expected to make its contribution.

=Technical and professional study=

While the graduate school was built upon the college, the technical
school grew up by the side of it or upon an independent foundation.
The first technical school was established at Troy, New York, in 1824,
and was called Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, after its founder,
Stephen Van Rensselaer. For a score of years no other development of
consequence was made, but in 1847 the foundations were made of what
have since become the Lawrence Scientific School at Harvard and the
Sheffield Scientific School at Yale. The passage of the Morrill Act in
1862 had a quickening effect on education in engineering and
agriculture. In the decade from 1860 to 1870 some twenty-two technical
institutions were founded, most of them by the aid of the land grants.
The most important of them is the Massachusetts Institute of
Technology, where instruction was first given in 1865 and which has
exerted by far the greatest influence upon the development of
scientific and technical education. The best technical schools require
a high school diploma for admission and have a four-year course of
study, but the only technical school on a graduate basis is the School
of Mines at Columbia University.

Professional education in theology, law, and medicine in the United
States was conducted chiefly upon the apprenticeship system down into
the nineteenth century. Though chairs of divinity existed in the
colonial colleges in the eighteenth century, systematic preparation
for the ministry was not generally attempted and the prospective
minister usually came under the special care of a prominent clergyman
who prepared him for the profession. In 1819 Harvard established a
separate faculty of divinity, and three years later Yale founded a
theological department. Since then about fifty colleges and
universities have established theological faculties and about 125
independent theological schools have been founded as the result of
denominational zeal. A majority of all these institutions require at
least a high school diploma for admission; half of them require a
college degree. Nearly all offer a three-year course of study and
confer the degree of bachelor of divinity.

Previous to the Civil War the great majority of legal practitioners
obtained their preparation in a law office. Though the University of
Pennsylvania attempted to establish a law school in 1791, and Columbia
in 1797, both attempts were abortive, and it remained for Harvard to
establish the first permanent law school in 1817. Even this was but a
feeble affair until Justice Joseph Story became associated with it in
1830. Up to 1870 but three terms of study were required for a degree;
until 1877 students were admitted without examination, and special
students were admitted without examination as late as 1893. Since then
the advance in standards has been very rapid, and in 1899 Harvard
placed its law school upon a graduate basis. Though but few others
have emulated Harvard in this respect, the improvement in legal
education during the past two decades has been marked. Of the 120 law
schools today, the great majority are connected with colleges and
universities, demand a high school diploma for admission, maintain a
three-year course of study, and confer the degree of LL.B. Twenty-four
per cent of the twenty thousand students are college graduates. In
some of the best schools the inductive method of study--i.e., the
"case method"--has superseded the lecture, and in practically all the
moot court is a prominent feature.

Entrance into the medical profession in colonial times was obtained by
apprenticeship in the office of a practicing physician. The first
permanent medical school was the medical college of Philadelphia,
which was established in 1765 and which became an integral part of the
University of Pennsylvania in 1791. Columbia, Harvard, and Dartmouth
also founded schools before the close of the eighteenth century, and
these were slowly followed by other colleges in the early decades of
the nineteenth century. During almost the entire nineteenth century
medical education in the United States was kept on a low plane by the
existence of large numbers of proprietary medical "colleges" organized
for profit, requiring only the most meager entrance qualifications,
giving poor instruction, and having very inadequate equipment in the
way of laboratories and clinics. In fact, medical education did not
obtain a high standard until the establishment of the Johns Hopkins
Medical School in 1893. Since then the efforts of the medical schools
connected with the strong universities and of the Rockefeller
Foundation to raise the minimum standard of medical education have
resulted in the elimination of the weakest medical schools. The total
number fell from 150 in 1900 to 100 in 1914. Not all of these demand a
high school diploma for admission, though the tendency is to stiffen
entrance requirements, but all have a four-year course of study. In
most institutions experience in laboratory, clinic, and hospital has
superseded the old lecture system as the method of instruction.
Closely associated with the progress in medicine and to a great extent
similar in history has been the progress in dentistry and pharmacy.
There are now fifty schools of dentistry, with nearly 9000 students,
and seventy-two schools of pharmacy, with nearly 6000 students.

One of the most gratifying advances in professional education has been
that of the teacher. Practically all the state universities and many
of the universities and colleges upon private foundations have
established either departments or schools of education which require
at least the same entrance qualifications as does the college proper
and in many cases confine the work to the junior and senior years.
Teachers College of Columbia University is on a graduate basis. Though
many of the 250 training and normal schools throughout the country do
not require a high school diploma for admission, the tendency is
wholly in that direction. In no field of professional education has
the application of scientific principles to actual practice made such
progress as in that of the teacher.

=College education for women--The independent college=

Few movements in the history of American education had more important
results than the academy movement which prevailed during the period
between the Revolution and the Civil War. Possibly the principle upon
which the new nation was established, i.e., the privilege of every
individual to make the most of himself, influenced the founders of
the academies to make provision for the education of girls beyond the
mere rudiments. Certainly this aspect of the movement had a
far-reaching influence. Some of the earliest of the academies admitted
girls as well as boys from the beginning, and some soon became
exclusively female. When it became evident from the work of the
academies that sex differences were not of as great importance as had
been supposed, it was not a long step to higher education. Some of the
academies added a year or two to the curriculum and took on the more
dignified name of "seminary." In this transition period the influence
of a few great personalities was profound, and even a brief sketch of
the history of women's education cannot omit to mention the splendid
work of Emma Willard and Mary Lyon. Mrs. Willard was an exponent of
the belief that freedom of development for the individual was the
greatest desideratum for humanity. She not only diffused this idea in
her addresses and writings but tried to utilize it in the
establishment in 1814 of the Troy Female Seminary, which was the
forerunner of many others throughout the country. Mary Lyon was rather
the representative of the religious influence in education, the
embodiment of the belief that to do one's duty is the great purpose in
life. In 1837 she founded Mount Holyoke Seminary, which had an
influence of inestimable value in sending well-equipped women
throughout the country a teachers. The importance of this service was
particularly evident during the period of the Civil War.

Although a number of excellent institutions for women bearing the name
of college were founded before the Civil War, the first one of really
highest rank was Vassar College, which opened its doors to students in
1865. Smith and Wellesley were founded in 1875, and Bryn Mawr in 1885.
These four colleges are in every respect the equal of the best
colleges for men. They are the most important of a dozen independent
colleges for women, almost all of which are situated in the East. To
establish the independent college was the chief method adopted in the
older parts of the country to solve the problem of women's higher
education, rather than to reorganize colleges for men where
conditions were already established.

=The development of coeducation=

The independent college is not the method that has prevailed in the
West. When the inspiration to higher education for women arrived west
of the Alleghanies, conditions, especially lack of resources,
practically necessitated coeducation. Oberlin, founded in 1834, was
the first fully coeducational institution of college grade in the
world. In 1841 three women received from it the bachelor's degree, the
first to get it. Oberlin's success had a pronounced influence on the
state universities, which, it was argued, should be open and free to
all citizens, since they were supported by public taxation. Almost all
the state universities and the great majority of the colleges and
universities on private foundations are today coeducational. The
results predicted by pessimists, viz., that the physical health of
women would suffer, that their intellectual capacity would depreciate
scholarship, and that the interests of the family would be menaced,
have not eventuated.

=The affiliated college for women=

The spread of coeducation in the state universities of the West and
the South and its presence in the newer private universities like
Cornell and Chicago had an influence upon the older universities of
the East. This influence has resulted in a third method of solving the
problem of women's education; viz., the establishment of the
affiliated college. Several universities have established women's
colleges, sometimes under the same and sometimes under a different
board of trustees, to provide the collegiate education for women which
is given to men by the undergraduate departments. Barnard College,
affiliated with Columbia University, Radcliffe College, affiliated
with Harvard University, Woman's College, affiliated with Brown
University, the College for Women, affiliated with the Western Reserve
University, and the H. Sophie Newcomb Memorial College for Women,
affiliated with Tulane University, have all been founded within the
past forty years.

=Graduate and professional studies for women=

All the universities for men except Princeton and Johns Hopkins and
all the fully coeducational institutions admit women upon the same
terms as men to graduate work. Graduate work is also undertaken with
excellent results in some of the independent women's colleges, as at
Bryn Mawr. Professional education for women has been coeducational
from the beginning, with the exception of medicine. The prejudice
against coeducation in that profession was so strong that five women's
medical schools were organized, but they provide instruction for
little more than a quarter of the women medical students. The increase
in the number of women in professional schools has not by any means
kept pace with the increase in the colleges. It appears that, with the
exception of teaching, woman is not to be a very important sector in
the learned professions in the near future.

=Undergraduate life--Fraternities=

Nothing differentiates more clearly the American college from European
institutions of higher education than the kind of non-scholastic
activities undertaken by the students. From the very beginning the
college became a place of residence as well as of study for students
from a distance, and the dormitory was an essential element in its
life. With increase in numbers, especially after the Revolution, when
all distinctions of birth or family were abolished, students naturally
divided into groups. The first fraternity, Phi Beta Kappa, was founded
in 1776 at William and Mary, with a patriotic and literary purpose,
and membership in it has practically ever since been confined to
graduates who have attained high scholastic standing. When one speaks
of college fraternities, however, he does not refer to Phi B K, but to
one of the intercollegiate social organizations which have chapters in
several colleges organized somewhat upon the plan of a club and whose
members live in a chapter house. The first such fraternity was founded
at Yale in 1821, but it was limited to the senior class. The three
fraternities established at Union in 1825-1827 form the foundation of
the present system. The fraternities spread rapidly and are today very
numerous. There are about thirty of national importance, having about
a thousand chapters and a quarter of a million members. The fraternity
system is bitterly attacked as being undemocratic, expensive, emphasizing
social rather than scholastic attainments, and, generally speaking, a
divisive rather than a unifying factor in college life. Hence some
colleges have abolished it. Fraternities have been defended, however,
as promoting close fellowship and even helping to develop character.
So strongly are they entrenched, not only in undergraduate but also in
alumni affection, that they probably form a permanent element in
college life.

=Religious life=

The early American college was primarily a place to prepare for the
ministry, and personal piety was a matter of official enforcement. For
a number of reasons religious zeal declined in the eighteenth century.
After the Revolution, under the influence of the new political
theories and of French skepticism the percentage of students
professing to be active Christians fell very low. In the early
nineteenth century the interest of students in religion increased, and
religious organizations in a number of colleges were founded.
Practically all of these later gave way to the Young Men's Christian
Association, which has now over 50,000 members organized in almost all
the colleges of the country save the Roman Catholic. The religious
interests of Roman Catholic students are in many colleges served by
the Newman Clubs and similar organizations, and of Jewish students by
the Menorah Society. The religion of college students has become less
a matter of form and speech and more a matter of service--social
service of many kinds at home and missionary service abroad.

=Physical education=

The educational reformers of Europe in the late eighteenth and early
nineteenth centuries placed great emphasis upon a more complete
physical training. This interest was felt in the United States, and
simple gymnastic apparatus was set up at Harvard and Yale in 1826. The
movement spread very slowly, however, due probably to ignorance of its
real physiological import. Since the Civil War the development of the
gymnastic system has been rapid, and now practically every first-class
college has its gymnasium, attendance upon which is compulsory, and
some have their stadium and natatorium. Of independent origin but
hastened by the spread of the gymnasium is the vast athletic interest
of undergraduates. Its earliest form, conducted on a considerable
scale, was rowing. The first rowing club was formed at Yale in 1843,
and the first intercollegiate race was rowed on Lake Winnepesaukee in
1852, Harvard defeating Yale. Rowing is now a form of athletics at
every college where facilities permit. The first baseball nine was
formed at Princeton in 1859, and the game spread rapidly to all the
other colleges. Football in a desultory and unorganized way made its
appearance early in the nineteenth century. As early as 1840 an annual
game was played at Yale between the freshmen and the sophomores, but
the establishment of a regular football association dates from 1872,
also at Yale. In the following year an intercollegiate organization
was formed, and since then football has increased in popularity at the
colleges to such an extent that just as baseball has become the great
national game, so has football become the great American collegiate
game. Track athletics is the most recent form of athletic sports to be
introduced into the college, and most colleges now have their field
days. In addition to these four major forms of college sports, tennis,
lacrosse, basketball, and swimming also have a prominent place. The
four major sports are usually under the control of special athletic
associations, which spend large sums of money and have a great
influence with the students. In fact, so great has become the interest
of college students in athletics that much fear has been expressed
about its influence upon scholastic work, and voices are not lacking
demanding its curtailment.[1] Military training is a phase of physical
education which, though it had earlier found a place in the land-grant
institutions, came to the fore as a part of the colleges' contribution
to winning the world war. Students' Army Training Corps were
established at many of the higher institutions of the country, and the
academic studies were made to correlate with the military work as a
nucleus. At the present time, however, the colleges are putting their
work back on a pre-war basis, and it seems most unlikely that military
training will survive as a corporate part of their work.

=Student literary activities--College journalism=

Journalism, though its actual performance is limited to a small number
of students, has had an honored place as an undergraduate activity for
almost a hundred years. It served first as a means of developing
literary ability among the students, afterwards as a vehicle for
college news, and now there has been added to these purposes the
uniting of alumni and undergraduates. Hence we find among college
journals dailies, monthlies, and quarterlies, some of them humorous
and some with a serious literary purpose. Journalism is not the only
method of expressing undergraduate thought. There has been a great
revival of intracollegiate and of intercollegiate debating in recent
years. Literary societies for debating the great issues preceding the
Revolution was the first development of undergraduate life, and every
college before and after the Revolution had strong societies. As
undergraduate interests increased in number, and especially as the
fraternity system began to spread, debating societies assumed a
relatively less important place, but in the past two decades great
interest has been revived in them. The glee club, or choral society,
along with the college orchestra, minister to the specialized
interests of some students, and the dramatic association to those of
others. One significant result of such activities has been to
establish a nexus between the college and community life.

=Student self-government=

One other feature of undergraduate life cannot be overlooked; viz.,
student self-government. The college student today is two or three
years older than was his predecessor of fifty or sixty years ago.
Moreover, with the great increase in the number of students has come a
parallel increase in complexity of administration and in the duties of
the college professor. Finally, a sounder psychology has taught the
wisdom of placing in the hands of the students the control of many
activities which they can supervise better than the faculty. As a
result of these and of other influences, in many colleges today all
extra-scholastic activities are either supervised by the student
council, the members of which are elected by the students, or by a
joint body of student and faculty members. The effect in almost every
instance has been the diminution of friction between the faculty and
students and the development of better relations between them. In some
colleges the honor system is found, under which even proctoring at
examinations does not exist, as all disciplinary matters, including
the decision in serious offenses like cheating, rest with the student
council. Student self-government is only one evidence of the
democratization that has taken place in the administration of the
college during the past two decades. Even more noticeable than student
self-government is the tendency recently manifested to transfer more
of the control of the government of the college from the board of
trustees to the faculty.

=New opportunities in higher education=

With the extension of commerce and the attempt to bring it under
efficient organization in the nineteenth century, the demand has been
made upon the colleges to train experts in this field. Germany was the
first to engage in it, and just before the war probably led the world.
France and England have remained relatively indifferent. In America,
the so-called "business college" proved entirely too narrow in scope,
and beginning with the Wharton School of Finance and Commerce of the
University of Pennsylvania (1881), the higher institutions have begun
to train for this important field. Some of the colleges of commerce,
like those of Dartmouth and Harvard, demand extensive liberal
preparation; others, like Wharton and the schools connected with the
state universities, coördinate their liberal and vocational work; a
few, like that of New York University, give almost exclusive attention
to the practical element.

Two other movements might be mentioned as illustrating the attempt to
extend the opportunity for higher education to an ever increasing
number of people. One is the development of extension courses and the
other the offering of evening work to those who cannot attend the
regular sessions. These are both steps in the direction of equality
of opportunity which is the ultimate aim of education in a democratic
country.

=The future of the college in American education--Relation to secondary
schools=

The college preceded the high school in time, and when the high school
began its career in the middle of the nineteenth century it was made
tributary to the college in all essentials. By deciding requirements
for admission, the college practically prescribed the curriculum of
the high school; by conducting examinations itself it practically
determined methods of teaching in the high school. But a remarkable
change in these respects has taken place in the past two decades. The
high school, which is almost omnipresent in our country, has attained
independence and today organizes its curricula without much reference
to the college. If there be any domination in college entrance
requirements today, it is rather the high school that dominates. Over
a large part of the country, especially in states maintaining state
universities, there are now no examinations for entrance to college.
The college accepts all graduates of _accredited_ high schools--i.e.,
high schools that the state university decides maintain proper
secondary standards. This growth in strength and independence has been
accompanied by a lengthening of the high school course from two years
in the middle of the last century to four years at the present time.

=The junior college=

With the introduction of the principle of promotion by subject instead
of by class, the strong high schools have been enabled to undertake to
teach subjects in their last years which were formerly taught in the
first years of the college. They have done this so well that the
practice has grown up in some parts of the country, especially on the
Pacific Coast, of extending the course of the high school to six years
and of completing in them the work of the first two years of college.
This enables more young men and women throughout the state to receive
collegiate education, and as the best-equipped teachers in the high
schools are usually in the last years and the worst-equipped teachers
in the college are usually in the first years, the system makes for
better education. Moreover, it relieves the state universities of the
crowds of students in the first two years and permits overworked
professors to concentrate upon the advanced work of the last two years
and upon research work in the graduate schools. A system which offers
so many advantages and is so popular both in the high school and the
university bids fair to spread.

=The abbreviated and condensed college course=

While the movement making for the elimination of the college from
below has been taking place in the West, another movement having the
same effect has been taking place in the East, only the pressure has
been from above. The tendency is spreading for the professional
schools of the strong universities to demand a college degree for
admission. If the full four years of the college are demanded in
addition to the four years of the secondary school and the eight years
of the elementary school, the great majority of students will begin
their professional education at twenty-two and their professional
careers at twenty-six, and they will hardly be self-supporting before
thirty. This seems an unreasonably long period of preparation compared
to that required in other progressive countries. The German student,
for example, begins his professional studies immediately upon
graduation from the gymnasium at eighteen. Hence the demand has arisen
for a shortening of the college course. This demand has been met in
several ways. In some colleges the courses have been arranged in such
a way that the bright and industrious student may complete the work
required for graduation in three years. In others, as at Harvard, the
student may elect in his senior year the studies of the first year of
the professional school. Another tendency in the same direction is to
permit students in the junior and even in the sophomore years to elect
subjects of a vocational nature. This has been bitterly contested by
those who hold that the minimum essentials of liberal culture should
be acquired before vocational specialization begins. Columbia
_permits_ a student to complete his college and professional studies
in six years, and at the end of that time he receives both the
bachelor's and the professional degrees.

It is to be noted, however, that these solutions of the problem and,
in fact, most other solutions that have been suggested, apply only to
a college connected with a university; they could not be administered
in the independent college. But a movement has developed in the Middle
West which may result in another solution; i.e., the Junior College.
It can be best understood by reference to the policy of the University
of Chicago. That institution divides its undergraduate course into two
parts: a Junior College of two years, the completion of whose course
brings with it the title of Associate in Arts, and a Senior College of
two years, the completion of whose course is rewarded with the regular
bachelor's degree. There have become affiliated with the University of
Chicago a considerable number of colleges throughout the Mississippi
Valley which have frankly become Junior Colleges and confine their
work to the freshman and sophomore years. And this has become true of
other universities. It would seem inevitable that the bachelor's
degree will finally be granted at the end of the Junior College and
some other degree, perhaps the master's, which has an anomalous place
in American education in any case, at the end of the Senior College.
This has, in fact, been suggested by President Butler. The University
of Chicago has also struck out in another new direction. Provided a
certain amount of work is done in residence at the University, the
remainder may be completed _in absentia_, i.e., through
correspondence courses.

The Junior College movement has had the excellent result of inducing
many weak colleges to confine their work to what they really can
afford to do. Many parts of our country have a surplus of colleges,
chiefly denominational. Ohio alone has more than fifty. The cost of
maintaining dormitories, laboratories, libraries, apparatus, and other
equipment and paying respectable salaries cannot be met by the tuition
fees in any college. The college must either have a large
income-producing endowment, which few have, or must receive gifts
sufficient to meet expenses. Gifts to colleges and universities form
one of the finest evidences of interest in higher education in the
United States, and reach really colossal proportions. In the past
fifty years, during which this form of generosity has prevailed, over
600 million dollars have been given, and in 1914 gifts from private
sources amounted to more than 30 million dollars. Most of this money
is given to the non-sectarian institutions and not to the small
denominational colleges scattered over the country. As they are in
addition unable to compete with the state universities, they are for
every reason justified in becoming Junior Colleges. But this does not
apply to the old independent colleges, such as Amherst, Williams,
Dartmouth, etc., which have loyal and wealthy alumni associations.
They have the support necessary to retain the four-year course and
seem determined to do so.

Just what the outcome of the whole question of shortening the college
course may be is not now evident. That concessions in time must be
made to the demand for an earlier beginning of professional education
seems certain. That the saving should be made in the college course is
not so certain. A sounder pedagogy seems to indicate that one year, if
not two, can be saved in the period from the sixth to the eighteenth
year. It is probable that the arbitrary division of American education
into elementary, secondary, collegiate, and university, each with a
stated number of years, will give way to a real unification of the
educational process. Most Americans would regret to see the college,
the unique product of American education, which has had such an
honorable part in the development of our civilization, disappear in
the unifying process.

                                          STEPHEN PIERCE DUGGAN
  _College of the City of New York_


BIBLIOGRAPHY

The bibliography on the American college is almost inexhaustible. The
list here given is confined to the best books that have appeared since
1900.

ANGELL, J. B. _Selected Addresses._ New York, 1912.

Association of American Universities. Proceedings of the Annual
Conference.

BUTLER, N. M. _Education in the United States._ New York, 1900.

CATTELL, J. M. _University Control._ New York, 1913.

CRAWFORD, W. H. (editor). _The American College._ New York, 1915.
(Papers by Faunce, Shorey, Haskins, Rhees, Thwing, Finley, Few,
Slocum, Meiklejohn, Claxton.)

Cyclopedia of Education, article on "American College." New York,
1911.

DEXTER, E. G. _History of Education in the United States._ New York,
1904.

DRAPER, A. S. _American Education._ Boston, 1909.

FLEXNER, A. _The American College: A Criticism._ General Education
Board, New York, 1908.

FOSTER, W. T. _Administration of the College Curriculum._ Boston,
1911.

HARPER, W. R. _The Trend in Higher Education._ Chicago, 1905.

KINGSLEY, C. D. _College Entrance Requirements._ United States Bureau
of Education, 1913.

MACLEAN, G. E. _Present Standards of Higher Education in the United
States._ United States Bureau of Education, 1913.

National Association of State Universities in the United States of
America. Annual Transactions and Proceedings.

RISK, R. K. _America at College._ London, 1908.

SNOW, L. F. _College Curriculum in the United States._ New York, 1907.

THWING, C. F. _History of Higher Education in the United States._ New
York, 1906.

---- _The American College; What It Is and What It May Become._ New
York, 1914.

---- _College Administration._ New York, 1900.

WEST, A. F. _Short Papers on American Liberal Education._ New York,
1907.


Footnotes:

[1] W. T. Foster in N.E.A. Reports, 1915.



II

PROFESSIONAL TRAINING FOR COLLEGE TEACHING


=Introduction=

Were this chapter to be a discussion of schemes of training, now in
operation, that had been devised to prepare teachers for colleges, it
could not be written, for there are no such schemes. Many elementary
and secondary teachers have undergone training for their life work, as
investigators have, by a different regimen, of course, for theirs. But
if college and university teachers do their work well, it is because
they are born with competence for their calling, or were self-taught,
or happened to grow into competence accidentally, as a by-product of
training for other and partly alien ends, or learned to teach by
teaching.

There are able college men, presidents and others, who view this
situation with equanimity, if not with satisfaction. Teachers are
born, not made, it is said. Can pedagogy furnish better teachers than
specialized scholarly training? it is asked. If we train definitely
for teaching, we shall diminish scholarship, cramp and warp native
teaching faculty, and mechanize our class procedure, it is objected.

Had the subject of training for college teaching been discussed, no
doubt other objections would have been advanced. But it has not been
discussed, as will be seen from the very scant bibliography at the end
of the chapter. No plan of training for college teaching is in
operation, and no discussion of such a plan can be found. Each of a
half-dozen men has argued his individual views, and elicited no reply.

This state of facts notwithstanding, the subject is well worth
discussing, and one may even venture to prophesy that in a decade, or
at latest two, the subject will have a respectable literature, and
enough training plans will be in operation to permit fruitful
comparisons.

When specific training is first urged for specialized work, there
always is opposition. The outgoing generation remembers the opposition
to specialized training for law, medicine, and engineering, to say
nothing of farming, school teaching and business. But in spite of
obstructive and retarding objections, specialized types of training
for specialized types of work have grown in number and favor, and
today we are being shown convincingly that nations which have declined
to set up the fundamental types of special training find themselves
able to make effective only a fraction of their resources. The
majority of the personnel in every higher calling has about average
native aptitude for it, and it is just the average man who can be
improved in competence for any work by training directed to that end
rather than to another. This is, of course, true of college teaching.

=How the college teacher has been and is trained=

In early days in this country the great majority of college teachers
were clergymen, trained in most cases abroad. Later bookish graduates
came to be the chief source of supply, their appointment in their own
colleges, and infrequently in others, following close upon their
graduation. Well into the third quarter of last century college
faculties were selected almost exclusively from these two types,
representatives of the former decreasing and of the latter increasing
in relative number. Neither type was specifically trained for teaching
in colleges or elsewhere.

With the founding and developing of Johns Hopkins University a new era
in higher education opened in this country. The paucity of exact
scholarship came to be known, and the country's need of scholarship to
be appreciated. In colleges grown from English seedlings we sought to
implant grafts from German universities. Independent colleges and
colleges within universities, while still called upon by American
traditions and needs to prepare their students for enlightened living
by means of a broadening and liberating training, came to be manned
preponderatingly by narrowly specialized investigators, withdrawn from
everyday life, with concentrated interests focused upon subjects or
parts of subjects, rather than upon students. Little thought was, or
is yet, given to the preparation of college teachers for their duties
as teachers, and that little rested, and still in large measure rests,
satisfied with the assumption that by some unexplained and it may be
inexplicable transfer of competence a man closeted and intensively
trained to search for truth in books and laboratories emerges after
three or more years well equipped for divining and developing the
mental processes and interests of freshmen.

Once fairly examined, this assumption lacks plausibility. "We consider
the Ph.D. a scholar's degree and not a teacher's degree," says the
dean of one of our leading graduate schools, and yet preparation for
this scholar's degree has been and is practically the only formal
preparation open to college teachers in this country.

=Equipment needed by college teachers=

It goes without saying that scholarship is one of the basal needs of
college teachers, a scholarship that keeps alive, and is human and
contagious. But it should be remembered that there are several kinds
of scholarship, and it is pertinent to ask what kind college teachers
need. Should they, for instance, model themselves on the broad
shrewdness and alluring scholarly mellowness of James Russell Lowell
or on the untiring encyclopedic exactitude and minuteness of Von
Helmholz? Or is there an even better ideal or ideals _for them_? I
would suggest that the teacher's knowledge of his subject should,
essentially, be of a kind that would keep him in intellectual sympathy
with the undeveloped minds of his students, and this means chiefly two
things. The more points of contact of his knowledge with the past
experience and future plans of his students the teacher has at his
command, the better teacher he will be; for he can use them, not as
resting places, but as points of departure for the development of
phases of his subject outside the students' experience. And secondly,
the teacher should see his subject entire, with its parts, as rich in
number and detail as possible, each in its proper place within the
whole. For the students' knowledge of the subject is vague and
general; he is trying to place it, and many other new things, in some
kind of a coherent setting; in fact, he is in college largely for the
very purpose of working out some sort of rudimentary scheme of things.
The duty of the college teacher is to help him in this quite as much
as to teach him a particular subject. And, besides, each particular
subject can be best taught if advantage is taken of every opportunity
to attach it to the only knowledge of it the student has, vague and
general though it be. Highly specialized and dehumanized knowledge is
not as useful for the college teacher as broad and vital knowledge,
which is, of course, much harder to acquire. Even in the case of
"disciplinary" subjects, there is no gain in concealing the human
bearings. The teacher should be trained to seize opportunities in the
classroom and out to help the student, through his subject and his
maturer life experience, to see the bearing of what he is learning on
the life about him and on the life he is to lead. This is the college
teacher's richest opportunity and the opportunity that tries him most
shrewdly. If he is to rise to it, his entire equipment, native and
acquired, must come into play.

What else does the teacher need? So that he may select the best and
continue to improve them, he needs a knowledge of the different
methods and aims in the teaching of his subject, and, so far as
possible, of the results attained by each. Too much of college
teaching is a blind groping, chartless and without compass. Instead of
expecting each inexperienced teacher to start afresh, he should set
out armed with the epitomized and digested teaching experience of
those that have gone before him.

Finally, the teacher needs a sympathetic and expert understanding of
the thinking and feeling of college students. This should be his
controlling interest. The teacher, his interest in his subject, and in
all else except the student, should be instrumental, not final. Every
available strand of continuity between studenthood and teacherhood
should thereafter be preserved.

This need suggests a capital weakness of the training for the
doctorate in philosophy as a preparation for teaching. As it proceeds
it shifts the interest from undergraduate student to scholarly
specialty, and steadily snaps the ties that bound the budding
investigator to his college days. It also explains the greatness of
some college teachers and personalities before the eighties. Their
degrees in arts were their licenses to teach. They suffered no drastic
loss of touch with undergraduate thought and life. In the early years
of their teaching this sympathetic and kindly understanding was fresh
and strong, and they used it in their classroom and wove it into the
tissue of their tutorial activities. A discerning observer of college
faculties can even today discover in them men and women who entered
them by the same door as these great ones of old, irregularly as we
would say now,--without the hallmark, and whose good teaching is a
surprise to their doctored colleagues. In one institution I know of,
the best five teachers some years ago were all of this type. The
training of college teachers might well, it therefore seems, include
an apprenticeship, beginning with, or in exceptional cases before,
graduation from college.

=The college legislator and administrator=

But the duties and opportunities of the college teacher do not stop at
the door leading from his classroom. In addition to dealing directly
with students, individually and in groups, and even, if possible, with
their families, as he grows in service he becomes, as faculty member
and committeeman, a college legislator and administrator. In
exercising these important functions he needs the equipment that would
aid him to take the central point of view, a background of scholarly
knowledge of what education in general and college education in
particular are in their methods and in their social functions and
purposes. There is too much departmental logrolling, as well as too
much beating of the air in faculty meetings, and too many excursions
into the blue in faculty legislation and administration arrangements.
The educational views of faculty members greatly need to be steadied,
ordered, and appreciably broadened and deepened by a developed and
trained habit of thinking educationally under the safeguards of
scientific method and on the basis of an adequate supply of facts.
That pedagogy has made but the smallest beginning of gathering and
ordering such facts and developing a scientific method in this field
is not a valid objection. These tasks are no more difficult than
others that have been compared, as _they_ will be, the sooner for
being imposed.

It is significant that coincident with sharp and widespread criticism
of the American college (justified in part by what college teachers
have been made into by their training), appear demands on the part of
faculties for more power. In this connection it may be remembered that
autocracy is the simplest and easiest form of government, and that
history shows that it can at least be made to work with less brains
and training than are required for the working of democracy. As
American colleges and universities have grown in complexity and
responsibility, their faculties have lost power because they did not
acquire the larger competence that was the indispensable condition of
even reasonably successful democratic control. It is highly desirable
that the power of faculties should increase to the point of
preponderance. But the added power they will probably acquire will not
be retained unless faculty members learn their business much better
than they now know it in most institutions. Thomas Jefferson, when
asked which would come to dominate, the states or the federal
government, replied that in the long run each of the opposed pair
would prevail in the functions in which it proved the more competent.

=A tentative scheme of training for college teachers=

To outline a scheme of such importance without any experience to
examine as a basis is a very bold undertaking, and one that can hope
for but partial success. What I shall propose, however, is similar to
the proposals of Pitkin (5), Horne (11), and Wolfe (14), my only
predecessors in this rash enterprise. The general spirit and purpose
of our proposals are the same. But we disagree more or less in
details--which is fortunate, as it may encourage discussion of the
subject, which is the thing most needed. Indeed, a lively sense of
this need has led me to venture some unpopular assertions. It may also
be admitted that the desiderata for teachers mentioned above are not
likely to be all insured by any system of training.

The proposal submitted for discussion is that a three-year graduate
course be established, its spirit and purpose being to train young men
to become _college_ teachers. This course should lead to a doctorate;
e.g., to the degree of Doctor of Philosophy, or of Doctor of
Philosophy in Teaching, or of Docendi Doctor. What degree is selected
is, in the long run, relatively unimportant, provided the course is
soundly conducive to its end.

The course might well be divided into three parts, having the
approximate relative value in time and effort of two fifths, two
fifths, and one fifth. These parts should proceed simultaneously
throughout the three years, the first being an apprenticeship--under
supervision, of course--in the functions of the college teacher, the
second a broad course of study and investigation of the subject to be
taught, and the third a course of pedagogical study and investigation.
Let me suggest a minimum of detail within these outlines.

The apprentice teacher would, naturally, do the least classroom
teaching during his first year, and the most during his last. He would
also each year "advise" a group of freshman in studies and in life, or
coöperate with students in the conduct of athletics, dramatics,
publication work, or other "activities." On all this apprentice work
he would report, and in all he would be guided and supervised
appropriately by the department whose subject he was teaching, by the
department of education, and by other departments concerned. This and
other parts of the training would attract others in addition to
narrowly bookish graduates, something much to be desired (other parts
would eliminate those not bookish enough), and would tend to keep
alive in all apprentices an interest in students, especially in
student character, and to prevent them from thinking of students as
disembodied minds.

The course of study and investigation in the subject to be taught
should be based on adequate undergraduate work in the same and allied
fields, and should be something like the honor course in Oxford or
Cambridge (or our _old_ M.A. course) in its conduct and purpose; it
should hark back to our collegiate origin in England. The work should
be in charge of a don, a widely and wisely read and a very human
guide, philosopher, and friend. Stated class meetings and precise
count of hours of attendance should receive little emphasis. But wide
reading of the subject, in a spirit that breeds contagion, running off
into a study, in books, laboratories, and meetings, of the human and
practical bearings of the subject, should be required, and enough
conference with the don should be had to enable him to judge and
criticize the student's plan and amount of work, to test his mettle in
handling the subject, and to aid him to grasp it as a whole and in its
chief subdivisions, and to get glimpses of its bearings on and place
in human life. This part of the training should lead up to and
culminate in a thesis dealing with some major phase of the subject
comprehendingly in its setting and connections. Naturally this program
could be carried out most successfully with the social subjects, which
lend themselves easily to culture, like history or philosophy, and
less completely with the exact subjects, which are better fitted for
precise discipline, like mathematics. But if treated, as far as
possible, after the manner indicated, even the latter could be made
better instruments for the training of college teachers than they are
now in narrow specialization for the Ph.D. degree. Among returning
Rhodes scholars some excellent material for dons could be found.

The fifth of the course directed to pedagogy should include a very
brief study of the methods of teaching the chosen subject, with
glimpses into teaching methods in general; and courses in the history
and philosophy of education, with emphasis on, but by no means
exclusive dealing with, the educational and social functions of the
college. It might include an intensive investigation of some
relatively simple college problem in preparation for future faculty
membership. All this should, of course, be intimately articulated with
the student's apprenticeship work. Such a course of pedagogical study
should furnish a basis for better teaching methods and for helpful
self-criticism therein; should encourage the formation of a habit of
thinking and working out educational problems scientifically with eyes
open to the purpose of the college as a whole; and should discourage
departmental selfishness in legislation and administration.

=Incidental advantage=

The college would, under this plan, have some of its teaching done at
minimum cost by student teachers, who should receive only the graduate
scholarship or fellowship now customary for Ph. D. candidates. Care
would be necessary to prevent the assignment to them of mere routine
hackwork without training value. It is safe to say that, though
slightly less mature, their services, being supervised, would be more
valuable than those rendered during their first few years of teaching
by most better-paid winners of the doctorate of philosophy, who, if
they do so at all, grope their way to usefulness as teachers, with
little aid from others more experienced.

With good teaching prepared for, required, and adequately rewarded (a
point to be developed later), somewhat longer schedules could properly
be assigned and further economy effected. Schedules would, of course,
have to be kept short enough to allow ample time for reading, for some
writing, and for faculty and committee work in later years. But time
would not be required by _college_ teachers for specialized research,
and the freedom from such tasks resulting for them would be a blessed
relief to many who are now compelled to assume a virtue they have not,
and to conceal the love of teaching they have. And when we bear in
mind the heavy mass of uninspired and unimportant hackwork that is now
dumped on the scholarly world, we shall welcome the prospect of a
lightened burden for ourselves.

The need of students, especially of freshmen, for advisers is widely
recognized. They come into a new freedom exercised in a new
environment. This makes for bewilderment that involves loss of
precious time and opportunities, and presents perils which involve
possible injuries to many and certain injuries to some. Efforts, many
and various, to constitute a body of advisers chosen from among
faculty members have met with but little success. With few exceptions
the task is not congenial to those who now man our faculties, and for
that and other reasons they are ill fitted for it. But a greater
measure of success has been attained, even under present conditions,
when the coöperation of volunteers from among seniors and graduate
students has been had. This suggests that the problem might come
nearer solution when some dependence came to be placed upon the
services of apprentices. Such service would be a part of their regular
work having a bearing on their future career, and would therefore be
supervised and rest on sustained interest and the consciousness that
it was counting.

Finally, young student teachers would, under proper encouragement and
arrangement, help materially to bridge the gulf, that is broader than
is wholesome, between a faculty of mature men and young students. The
mixing of these different generations, so far as possible, is much to
be desired, difficult as it is to accomplish.

=Consequent change of plan in appointments and promotions=

This is not the place to discuss the details of appointment and
promotion plans, interesting and important as they are. But it is
evident that the scheme of training outlined, if adopted, would call
for changes in present practices.

The appointing authorities of colleges looking for young teachers
could ascertain their strong and weak points as they developed during
their apprenticeship in classrooms and in other educational
activities, as well as the quality and trend of their scholarship.
They would not rest satisfied with ascertaining the minute corner of
the field of philosophy, history, or physics in which a man
recommended had done research. Records could be kept throwing
much-needed light on the teaching ability, scholarship, and
personality of candidates for appointment. In selecting _college_
teachers, appointing authorities would value this evidence and would
come to prefer teaching power to investigating ability.

Moreover, the record keeping, and, no doubt, some of the supervision
begun during the apprentice years would continue during the early
instructorial years. This would render it possible to evaluate and to
value effectiveness in teaching in making promotions. Ambitious
teachers would no longer be practically forced, as their only resort,
to neglect their students and give their best energies to publication
in order to make a name and get a call, in the interest of promotion.
The expert teacher would have a chance and a dignity equal to that of
the skilled investigator. The individual could follow, and not be
penalized for so doing, his own bent and the line of his highest
capacity.

=Training of investigators=

The training now given in graduate schools here and elsewhere for the
doctorate in philosophy will, of course, continue, and increase rather
than diminish. Investigators will be preferred in research, in
universities, and in some colleges and college departments. They will
be increasingly prized in the government service and in important
branches of industry. The recent terrible experiences burn into our
minds the imperative need strong nations have of exact knowledge and
of skill that has a scientific edge. And the specific training for
these great tasks will be stronger when it is based on a college
course in which highly effective and whole-hearted teaching is valued
and rewarded.

                                                SIDNEY E. MEZES
  _College of the City of New York_


BIBLIOGRAPHY

ANONYMOUS. Confessions of One Behind the Times. _Atlantic_, Vol. 3,
pages 353-356, March, 1913.

CANBY, H. S. The Professor. _Harpers_, April, 1913.

Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching. Bulletin No. 2,
May, 1908, pages 55-57.

FLEXNER, ABRAHAM. Adjusting the College to American Life. _Science_,
Vol. 29, pages 361-372.

HANDSCHIN, C. H. Inbreeding in the Instructional Corps of American
Colleges and Universities. _Science_, Vol. 32, pages 707-709.
November, 1910.

HOLLIDAY, CARL. Our "Doctored" Colleges. _School and Society_, Vol. 2,
pages 782-784. November 27, 1915.

HORNE, HERMAN H. The Study of Education by Prospective College
Instructors. _School Review_, Vol. 16, March, 1908, pages 162-170.

PITKIN, W. B. Training College Teachers. _Popular Science_, Vol. 74,
pages 588-595. June, 1909.

Report of the Committee on Standards of American Universities.
_Science_, Vol. 29, page 172. November 17, 1908.

ROBINSON, MABEL L. Need of Supervision in College Teaching. _School
and Society_, Vol. 2, pages 514-519, October 9, 1915.

SANDERSON, E. D. Definiteness of Appointment and Tenure. _Science_,
Vol. 39, pages 890-896, June, 1914.

STEWART, Charles A. Appointment and Promotion of College Instructors.
_Educational Review_, Vol. 44, 1912, pages 249-256.

WILCZYNSKI, E. J. Appointments in College and Universities. _Science_,
February 28, 1909; Vol. 29, pages 336ff.

WOLFE, A. B. The Graduate School, Faculty Responsibility, and the
Training of University Teachers. _School and Society_, September 16,
1916.



III

GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF COLLEGE TEACHING

=Status of teaching in the colleges=

The investigator of educational practices and methods of teaching is
impressed with an unmistakable educational anti-climax, for the
conviction grows on him that elementary school teaching is on a
relatively high plane, that secondary school teaching is not as
effective, and that collegiate teaching, with rare exceptions, is
ineffective and in urgent need of reform. A superficial survey of
educational literature of the last ten years shows that while the
problem of the high school is now receiving earnest attention,
elementary education continues to absorb the earnest efforts of an
army of vitally interested investigators. The field of college
pedagogics is still virgin soil, and no significant or extensive
program for improved methods of teaching has yet been advanced.

Three earnest and intelligent students representing three colleges of
undisputed standing were asked informally about their instructors for
the current semester. Nothing was said to make these students aware
that their judgment would hold any significance beyond the friendly
conversation. The summary of opinions is offered, not because the
investigation is complete and affords a basis for scientific
conclusion, but because it reflects typical college teaching in three
recognized institutions of more than average standing.


    STUDENT NO. I       |     STUDENT NO. II     |  STUDENT NO. III
                        |                        |
 _Teacher A_: A popular | _Teacher A_: A good    | _Teacher A_: A very
 and interesting        | teacher of mathematics.| popular teacher of
 teacher. Talks         | He assigns a new lesson| English. If the final
 enthusiastically, but  | for home study. The    | examination is given
 talks all the time.    | next day he asks       | by another teacher, I
 Lessons assigned are   | questions on the       | may not have enough
 not heard. Students    | lesson. The answers are| specific facts to
 seldom recite. Written | written out on the     | pass. We began Chaucer
 quizzes on themes of   | blackboards. After     | last week. He spent a
 assigned reading are   | fifteen minutes all    | good part of each
 rated by an assistant. | students take their    | session reading to us.
 The work comes back    | seats and the work on  | All of us were
 with an A, a C, or a D,| the blackboard is taken| surprised to find how
 but we do not know why | up for explanation. He | much more the text
 the rating was given.  | explains every         | meant than after our
 Frequently two students| difficulty very        | own reading. In the
 who worked together are| clearly. We rarely     | last session we went
 marked B and D         | cover the lesson. Some | to our book on
 respectively for the   | topics go unexplained  | literature and tried
 same work. Sometimes a | because during the next| to justify the
 a student who "cribbed"| hour the blackboard    | characterization which
 his outline from       | problems are based on  | the author gives of
 another who actually   | the lesson. If I       | Chaucer. The class
 "worked it up" receives| understood the second  | agreed with all in the
 a higher mark than was | half of each lesson as | book except in one
 given for the original.| clearly as the first,  | characterization. In
                        | I would feel hopeful   | the composition work we
                        | of a good grade in the | took up the structure
                        |  final examination.    | of short narratives.
                        |                        | The assignment was to
                        |                        | find narratives in
                        |                        | current periodicals,
                        |                        | in the writings of
                        |                        | standard authors, in
                        |                        | newspapers, and then
                        |                        | attempt to find whether
                        |                        | the structure we
                        |                        | studied was followed.
                        |                        | In each case we had to
                        |                        | justify any departure
                        |                        | from the standard.
                        |                        | There was little time
                        |                        | for the footnotes in
                        |                        | Chaucer. I hope we are
                        |                        | not asked for these on
                        |                        | the final examination.
                        |                        |
                        |                        |
 _Teacher B_: Rather an | _Teacher B_: A dry     | _Teacher B_: A very
 interesting teacher;   | course in Art History  | conscientious teacher
 assigns lessons from a | and Appreciation. We   | of chemistry. He gives
 book. At the beginning | take up the history of | us a ten-minute written
 of the hour he asks    | architecture, painting,| quiz each hour on the
 questions on the text  | and sculpture. The     | work in the book or on
 but is soon carried    | names of the best      | the matter discussed in
 away and rambles along | artists are mentioned, | the last lecture. The
 for the period,        | and their many works   | rest of the hour is
 touching on every      | confuse us. We memorize| spent in explanation of
 subject. We never      | Praxiteles, Phidias,   | difficult points and in
 complete a chapter or  | Myron, the ancient     | the application of what
 topic. The succeeding  | cairns, the parts of an| we learned of industry
 hour we take the next  | Egyptian temple.       | and physiology. It is
 chapter, which meets   | Pictures are shown on  | surprising to see the
 the same fate. Written | the screen. I elected  | interest the class
 tests determine the    | this course in the hope| shows in the chemical
 students' rank. The    | that it would teach me | explanations of things
 grade for the written  | something about        | we never noticed
 test is announced, but | pictures, how to judge | before.
 the papers are not     | them and give me       |
 returned and one never | standards of beauty,   |
 knows why the papers   | etc., but it has been  |
 were rated C or D.     | history and not        |
                        | appreciation so far.   |
                        | We do not see any      |
                        | beauty in the pictures |
                        | of old madonnas. Even  |
                        | the religious ones     |
                        | among us say this.     |
                        |                        |
                        |                        |
 _Teacher C_:           | _Teacher C_: A good,   | _Teacher C_: A scholarly
 A conscientious teacher| clear, effective       | instructor in history.
 in physics. He assigns | lecturer in chemistry. | He assigns thirty to
 a definite lesson for  | Every lesson we learn a| forty pages in English
 each recitation of the | definite principle and | History, and then he
 term. At the beginning | its application. The   | lectures to us about
 of the hour students go| laboratory work of each| the topics discussed by
 to the board to write  | is related to the      | the author. He points
 out answers to         | lecture and throws     | out errors in dates and
 questions on the       | interesting side lights| places. Occasionally he
 lesson. The hour is    | on it. We have quiz    | calls on a student. At
 spent listening to the | sections once a week.  | the end of each month
 recitation of each     | Here the work is oral  | he gives a written test.
 student and the        | and written.           | We remember little of
 explanation of         |                        | what we learned and
 difficult points. We   |                        | must "bone away" at
 never cover more than  |                        | about 200 to 300 pages.
 one half of the lesson:|                        | His English is
 sometimes only one     |                        | delightful and we enjoy
 third. The next hour   |                        | listening at times,
 the questions are on   |                        | but I seem to retain
 the new lesson, not on |                        | so little. "Yes, half
 the incompleted portion|                        | the term is up. We are
 of the former lesson.  |                        | beginning the reign of
 My knowledge of physics|                        | Henry VII."
 is punctuated by areas |                        |
 of  ignorance. These   |                        |
 alternate with topics  |                        |
 that I think I         |                        |
 understand clearly.    |                        |
                        |                        |
                        |                        |
 _Teacher D_: A quiet,  | _Teacher D_: A very    | _Teacher D_: A very
 modest man. Sits back  | strict teacher of      | enthusiastic lecturer
 comfortably in his seat| English literature. He | in economics. He
 and asks questions on  | assigns text for study,| explains the important
 assigned texts. The    | and we must be prepared| principles in
 questions review the   | for detailed questions | economics. We follow
 text, and he explains  | on each of the great   | in a printed syllabus,
 in further detail the  | writers. He is very    | so that it is
 facts in the book. The | strict and detailed. We| unnecessary to take
 conscientious and      | had to know all the    | notes. He talks well
 capable student finds  | fifteen qualities of   | and makes things clear.
 him superfluous; the   | Macaulay's style. "No, | We are given assignments
 indifferent student    | we did not read        | in S----'s "Elements of
 remains unmoved by his | Macaulay this term: we | Economics," on which we
 phlegmatic             | study from a history of| are questioned by
 presentation; the poor | English literature that| another teacher. "Is
 student finds him a    | tells us all about the | the work in the quiz
 help; the shirk who    | master writers."       | section related directly
 listens and takes notes|                        | to the lectures?
 is saved studying at   |                        | Sometimes. No, we do
 home.                  |                        | not take current
                        |                        | economic problems. These
                        |                        | are given in a later
                        |                        | elective course."
                        |                        |
                        |                        |
 _Teacher E_: A good    | _Teacher E_: A quiet,  | _Teacher E_: An
 teacher of Latin. He   | dignified gentleman who| instructor in
 explains the work,     | teaches us psychology. | psychology. His hours
 hears the lessons,     | A chapter is assigned  | are weary and dreary.
 gives drills, calls on | in the book, and the   | A chapter is assigned
 almost everybody every | hour is spent hearing  | in X's "Elements of
 hour. The written work | students recite on the | Psychology." He asks a
 is returned properly   | text. He sticks closely| question or two and
 corrected and rated.   | to the book. He        | then repeats what the
                        | explains clearly when  | author tells us, even
                        | the book is not clear  | using the illustrations
                        | or not specific enough.| and diagrams found in
                        | The hours drag, for the| the text. Sometimes a
                        | book is good and those | student reads a paper
                        | who studied the lessons| which he prepared. "No,
                        | weary at what seems to | we do not get very much
                        | us needless repetition.| out of these papers
                        |                        | read by students. But
                        |                        | then we get just as
                        |                        | little from the
                        |                        | instructor. No, we
                        |                        | never apply the
                        |                        | psychology to our own
                        |                        | thinking nor to
                        |                        | teaching nor to the
                        |                        | behavior of children
                        |                        | or adults."
                        |                        |
                        |                        |
 _Teacher F_:  One      | _Teacher F_: A learned | _Teacher F_: A
 cannot pass judgment on| Latin scholar who is   | forbidding but very
 this teacher of        | very enthusiastic about| strict Latin teacher.
 mechanical drawing. He | his specialty. The     | His questions are fast
 gives out a problem,   | students exhibit       | and numerous and the
 works a type on the    | cheerful tolerance. He | hesitating student is
 board, and then        | assigns a given number | lost. He assigns at
 distributes the plates.| of lines per day. These| least twenty-five per
 We draw. He helps us   | we prepare at home. In | cent more per lesson
 when we ask for aid,   | class we give a        | than any other
 otherwise he walks     | translation in English | instructor. The hour is
 about the room. I      | that has distorted     | spent in translating,
 suppose one cannot show| phrases and clauses    | parsing, and quizzing
 teaching ability in    | lest we be accused of  | on historical and
 such a subject.        | dishonesty in          | mythological allusions.
                        | preparation. The rest  | Every "pony" user is
                        | of the time is spent on| soon caught, because
                        | questions of syntax,   | he is asked so many
                        | references, footnotes, | questions on each
                        | and the identification | sentence. There is a
                        | of the of the real and | distinct relief when
                        | mythological characters| the hour is over because
                        | in the text. The       | he is constantly at you.
                        | teacher is animated and| "Will I take the next
                        | effective.             | course in Latin? Not
                        |                        | unless I must. This is
                        |                        | prescribed work. It
                        |                        | can't end too soon for
                        |                        | me, nor for the others
                        |                        | in the class."


The student of scientific and statistical measurements in education
may object to attaching any importance to these informal
characterizations of college teachers by undergraduates. College
teachers interested in the pedagogical aspects of their subject, and
college administrators who spend time observing class instruction will
concede that these young men were not at all unfortunate in their
teachers. The significance of these characterizations is not that
college teachers vary in teaching efficiency, but rather that
inefficient college teaching is general, and that the causes of this
inefficiency are such as respond readily to simple remedial measures
very well known to elementary and high school teachers.

=Causes of ineffective college teaching=

It may be well to note the chief causes of ineffective college
teaching before directing attention to a remedial program:

(a) Many college teachers hold to be true the time-honored fallacy
that the only equipment for successful teaching is a thorough
knowledge of the subject. They do not stop to square their belief with
actual facts. They overlook the examples of their colleagues possessed
of undisputed scholarship who are failures in the classroom. They fail
to realize that there are psychological and pedagogical aspects of the
teaching art which demand careful organization, skilful gradation and
a happy selection of illustrations intimately related to the lives of
the students.

(_b_) Closely related to this first cause of ineffective teaching is a
lack of sympathetic understanding of the student's viewpoint. The
scholarly teacher, deep in the intricacies and speculations of his
specialty, is often impatient with the groping of the beginner. He may
not realize that the student before him, apparently indifferent to the
most vital aspects of his subject, has potentialities for development
in it. His interest in his researches and his vision of the
far-reaching human relations of his subject may blind him to the
difficulties that beset the path of the beginner.

(_c_) The inferiority of college teaching in many institutions can
often be traced to the absence of constructive supervision. The
supervising officer in elementary and secondary schools makes
systematic visits to the classrooms of young or ineffective teachers,
observes their work, offers remedial suggestions, and tries to infuse
a professional interest in the technique of teaching. In the college
such supervision would usually stir deep resentment. The college
teacher is, in matters of teaching, a law unto himself. He sees little
of the actual teaching of his colleagues; they see as little of his.
His contact with the head of his department, and his departmental and
faculty meetings, are usually limited to discussions of college policy
and of the sequence and content of courses. Methods of teaching are
rarely, if ever, brought up for discussion. The results are
inevitable. Weaknesses in teaching are perpetuated, while the devices
and practices of an effective teacher remain unknown to his
colleagues.

(_d_) A fourth factor which accounts for much of the inefficiency in
college pedagogics is made the thesis of Dr. Mezes' chapter on "The
Training of the College Teacher." The college teacher, unlike teachers
in other grades of an educational system, is expected to teach without
a knowledge of educational aims and ideals, and without a knowledge of
the psychological principles which should guide him in his work. The
prospective college teacher, having given evidence of scholarship
alone, has intrusted to him, the noisy, expressive, and rapidly
developing, youth. We set up no standards aside from character and
scholarship. We do not demand evidence of teaching ability, a
knowledge of applied psychology and of accepted teaching practices,
skill in presentation, power of organizing material in graded
sequence, or ability to frame a series of questions designed to
stimulate and sustain the self-activity of the pupils. The born
college teacher remains the successful teacher. The poor college
teacher finds no agent which tends to raise his teaching to a higher
level. The temperamentally unfit are not weeded out. But teaching is
an art, and like all arts it requires conscientious professional
preparation, the mastery of underlying scientific principles, and
practice under supervision scrupulous in its attention to technique.

We have here outlined a few of the causes which keep college teaching
on a low plane. The remedial measures are in each case too obvious to
mention. It remains for college authorities to formulate a
well-conceived and adjustable program of means and methods of ridding
college teaching of those forces which keep it in a discouraging
state. It is our purpose in the remainder of this chapter not to
evolve a system of pedagogics, but rather to touch on the most vital
principles in teaching which must be borne in mind if college teaching
is to be rendered pedagogically comparable to elementary and secondary
teaching. We shall confine ourselves to teaching practices which are
applicable to all subjects in the college curriculum.


PRINCIPLES IN COLLEGE TEACHING

=A clearly conceived aim must control all teaching=

One of the very first elements in good teaching is the clear
recognition of a well-defined aim that gives purpose and direction to
all that is attempted in a lesson or in a period. The chief cause of
poor teaching is aimless teaching, in which the sole object seems to
be to fill the allotted time with talking about the facts of a given
subject. We sit patiently through a recitation in English literature.
Act I, Scene 1 of _Hamlet_ had been assigned for home study and is now
the text for the hour. Questions are asked on the dramatic structure
of this scene, on versification, on the meaning of words and
expressions now obsolete, on peculiarities of syntax, and finally a
question or two on a character portrayal. The bell brings these
questions to an abrupt end. Ask teacher and students the aim of all
these questions. To the former, they are means of testing the
students' knowledge of a variety of facts of language and literature;
to the latter they mean little, and serve only to repress a living
interest and appreciation of living literary text. How much more
effective the hour in English literature would have been if the entire
act had been assigned with a view to giving the students an insight
into the dramatic structure of each scene in this act and of the act
as a whole. All the questions would then bear on dramatic movement, on
the dramatist's technique, on his way of arousing interest in his
story, on devices for giving the cause and the development of the
action. In the opening scene we read:

     _Elsinore. A Platform before the Castle._
     _Francisco at his post. Enter to him Bernardo._

     BER. Who's there?

     FRAN. Nay, answer me; stand, and unfold yourself.

     BER. Long live the King!

     FRAN. Bernardo?

     BER. He.

     FRAN. You come most carefully upon your hour.

     BER. 'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco.

     FRAN. For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold. And I am sick
           at heart.

     BER. Have you had a quiet guard?

Here we see the guard on duty challenged by his relief, a most unusual
procedure. Why does this experienced guard so far forget the customary
forms as to challenge the guard on duty? What possible reason can
there be for this? How would you read the second line? What words must
be emphasized to show the surprise of the challenged guard? If the
entire hour were given to the whole of Act I and all the questions
sought to reveal to the students Shakespeare's power of dramatic
structure, a definite and lasting impression would be carried away.
Act I should be assigned again, but with a different aim. The teacher
now seeks to make clear to the student the dramatist's method of
character portrayal. A third hour may be spent on certain portions of
this act in which attention is given to significant facts of language,
choice of words, or poetic form. When a guiding aim controls, all
questions, suggestions, explanations, and illustrations tend to create
in the mind of the pupil a rich and unified impression. Where no
distinct aim gives direction to the work, the student is confused by a
variety of facts--isolated facts--that are displaced by another group
of disjointed bits of information. Aimless teaching leads to mental
wandering on the part of the student; teaching governed by a definite
aim leads to mental development and to the acquisition of new
viewpoints and new power.

=The educational aim vs. the instructional aim=

We must distinguish clearly between the general or educational aim and
the specific or instructional aim. The former sums up the hope of an
entire course or an entire subject. In the teaching of literature we
hope to develop a vital interest in reading, a discriminating taste,
an enlivened imagination and a quickened perception which enable the
student to visualize the situations and to acquire the thought on the
printed page. The instructional aim, however, is much more specific;
it posits a task that can be accomplished in a very limited time; it
seeks to give an insight into Shakespeare's mastery of words, or into
his power of character portrayal, or into his methods of enhancing
dramatic interest. Each of these two types of aims has its
unmistakable influence on methods of teaching.

=The variety of aims that may govern teaching=

What aim should we select to guide us in formulating principles of
collegiate teaching? The question is almost basic, for the selection
of a proper aim gives color and direction to all our teaching. In
brief, the aim may be one of the following:

(_a_) _The informational aim._ A given course in chemistry or physics
may be designed to sum up for the student the vital facts necessary
for an intelligent comprehension of common phenomena. With such an
aim, it is obvious that only so much laboratory work will be assigned
as will give the student a general knowledge of the tools and methods
of laboratory work; that the major portion of the work will be divided
into occasional lectures, regular book assignments, and extensive
applications of knowledge gained to surrounding chemical and physical
phenomena. A language course may seek to give pupils a stock of words
designed to develop power to read the language in a very short time.
Obviously, grammatical work and translations into the mother tongue
will now be minimized, and those devices which give the eye the power
to find thought in new symbols will be emphasized. There is no
standard for determining the relative importance of this informational
or utilitarian aim when compared to other aims. The significant thing
is, not so much to discover its relative importance, but, having
adopted it, to devise methods which clearly tend to bring the students
to an effective realization of it.

(_b_) _The disciplinary aim._ On the other hand, the controlling aim
in any subject may be to develop the power to reason about natural
phenomena, the power to observe, and the power to discriminate between
vital and inconsequential details. If this be the aim, the assignment
of subject matter must be reduced, the phenomena studied must be
submitted in the forms of problems, first-hand observations must be
made, and students must be led to see the errors in their observations
and their reasoning. The course which is extensive in subject matter
and which relies on the lecture method sacrifices mental discipline
for information. From the teaching point of view, the result of the
time-honored quarrel between the disciplinists and the utilitarians is
not so important as the adoption of a definite aim, and the
formulation of consistent methods of teaching in order to attain that
aim. Ineffective teaching is not caused by the selection of the one
aim or of the other, but by systems of instruction devoid of any aim
at all.

(_c_) _The appreciative or æsthetic aim._ It is obvious that a subject
may be taught for the power it develops for æsthetic appreciation of
the arts of life. We have here a legitimate aim of coördinate
importance with the two preceding ones; and if we adopt it, the vital
thing in teaching is to allow this appreciative aim to mold all
instructional effort. It is obvious that a college course in æsthetics
must be inspirational, must seek to develop a real appreciation of the
beauty of line, of color and of sound. Such a course must, therefore,
encourage contact with the products of art, rather than promote the
study of texts on the history of any of the arts. So, too, courses in
music or in literature which do not send the student away with an
intense desire to hear, to see, to feel the masterpieces of music or
literature must be judged dismal failures. The formalization of an art
course given to the general student, kills the live material and
leaves the student himself cold.

(_d_) _The aim to teach technique._ An effective college course may
select for its aim the development of the technique of a given
subject. It is obvious that a science course governed by this aim will
emphasize the laboratory method at the expense of information; that a
course in the social sciences will seek to cover less ground but will
develop in the student the power to find facts and use them to
formulate an intelligent conclusion; that a course in biology will
minimize names, classifications and structures, but will emphasize
field and laboratory work and the modes of utilizing the data thus
discovered. We must repeat the statement made before, that no one can
set himself up as the final arbiter of the claims of these contending
aims. They are all vitally necessary for a thorough understanding of
life's problems. The significant conclusion for teaching is that one
or more of these aims must be consciously chosen and that content and
method must be determined by them absolutely. Teaching for the sake of
teaching consumes time and makes drafts on energy, but it leaves the
student no richer in power and with no truer understanding.

=Should the aim be modified for varying groups of students?=

It is obvious that no general law can be formulated for the adjustment
of aims to the needs of students. Teachers have usually found it
necessary to change the aim, the content, and the method of a course
according to the needs of different classes of students. In one of our
colleges science students are required to take two years of Latin. The
course offered these young men gives the ordinary drill in grammar,
translation, and analysis of Cæsar, Cicero, and Vergil, as well as
practice in prose composition in which nondescript and disjointed
English sentences, grammatically correct, are turned into incorrect
Latin. This description, without any changes whatever, applies also to
the course given in the introductory years in Latin to students
specializing in the arts. Even a superficial analysis reveals a
different set of needs in the two classes of students which can be
served only by a corresponding difference in content and mode of
teaching. A student who takes French or German because he wants enough
mastery of these languages to enable him to read in foreign journals
about the progress of his specialty must be given a course which
appeals to the eye and minimizes the grammatical and conversational
phases of these languages.

There are courses that are foundational and that must therefore be
governed by an eclectic aim. In the first course in college physics it
is obvious that we must teach the necessary facts of the subject as
well as its method. These aspects of the work must be emphasized with
equal force for all students; no differentiation need be made for
future medical or engineering students or for prospective teachers of
the subject in secondary schools. Generally speaking, initial courses
in a department are governed by an eclectic aim, but in the advanced
courses there must be constant adjustment to the needs of various
groups. An eclectic aim can be as effective an instrument in enhancing
the quality of teaching as a single, clear-cut aim, provided there is
a clear recognition of the relative importance of the ends set up, and
provided a definite plan is evolved to attain them.

The aim or aims of a subject or a lesson, once formulated, must always
be kept before the students as well as before the teacher. Every pupil
must know the ends to be attained in the course he is taking, and as
work progresses he must experience a growing realization that the
class is moving toward these ends. The subject matter of the course,
the method of instruction, the assigned task, now glow with interest
which springs from work clearly motivated. The average student plods
through his semester from a sense of duty or obedience rather than
from a conviction of the worth of both subject matter and method.

=Value of clearly defined aims=

Not only must the general aim be indicated to the student, but he must
also be made acquainted with the specific aim. Where students have
been acquainted with the specific task that must be accomplished in a
given period, concentration and coöperation with the instructor are
easier; the students can, at stages in the lesson, anticipate
succeeding steps; their answers have greater relevancy, their thought
is more sequential and flows more readily along the path planned by
the instructor. A specific aim for each lesson makes for economy, for
it is a standard of relevancy for both student and teacher. The
student whose answer or observation is irrelevant is asked to recall
the aim of the lesson and to judge the pertinence of his contribution.
The instructor given to wandering far afield finds that a clearly
fixed aim is an aid in keeping him in the prescribed path. Too many
college hours, especially in the social sciences, find the instructor
beginning with his subject but ending anywhere in the field of human
knowledge. These wanderings are entertaining enough, but they
dissipate the energies of the students and produce a mental flabbiness
already too well developed in the average college student.

=Motivation in college teaching=

A second factor which contributes much toward the effectiveness of
college teaching is the principle of motivation. So long as most of
the college course is prescribed, course by course, students will be
found pursuing certain studies without an intelligent understanding of
their social or mental worth. Ask the student "doing" prescribed logic
to explain the value of the course. In friendly or intimate discussion
with him, elicit his conception of the utilitarian or disciplinary
worth of the prescribed Latin or mathematics in the arts course. He
sees no relation between the problems of life and the daily lessons in
many of these subjects. He submits to the teacher's attempts to graft
this knowledge upon his intellectual stock merely because he has
learned that the easiest course is to bend to authority. Instruction
in too many college subjects is based, not on intelligent and
voluntary attention, but on the discipline maintained by the
institution or by the instructor. It is obvious that such instruction
is stultifying to the teacher and can never develop in the student a
liberal and cultured outlook upon life.

The principle of motivation in teaching seeks to justify to the
student the experience that is presented as part of his college
course. It is obvious that this motivation need not always be
explained in terms of utilitarian values. A student of college age can
be made to realize the mental, the cultural, or the inspirational
values that justify the prescription of certain courses. The college
instructor who tries to motivate courses in the appreciation of music
or painting finds no great difficulty in leading his students to an
enthusiastic conviction of their inspirational value. It is well
worth taking the student into our confidence in these matters of aim
and value. We must become more tolerant of the thoughtful student who
makes honest inquiry as to the value of any of the presented courses.
We must learn to regard such questions as signs of growing seriousness
and increasing maturity and not as signs of impertinence. We
constantly ask ourselves questions about the round of our daily task;
we seek to know thoroughly their uses, their values, their meaning in
our lives. Clear conception of use or value in teaching is as vital as
it is in life--for what is teaching if not the process of repeating
life's experiences?

In the principle of motivation lies the most successful solution of
the problem of interest in teaching. We have too long persisted in the
"sugarcoating" conception of interest. We have regarded it as a
process of "making agreeable." Interest has therefore been looked upon
as a fictitious element introduced into teaching merely to inveigle
the mind of the student into a consideration of what we are offering
it. Our modern psychology teaches a truer conception of interest: a
feeling accompanying self-expression. Interest has been defined as a
feeling of worth in experience. Where this feeling of worth is
aroused, the individual expresses his activity to attain the end that
he perceives. Every act, every effort, to attain this end is
accompanied by a distinctive feeling known as interest. When a class
is quiet and gives itself to the teacher, it is obedient and polite,
but not necessarily interested. The class that looks tolerantly at the
stereopticon views that the instructor presents, or listens to the
reading of the professor of English, is amused but not necessarily
interested. But when the students ask questions about the pictures or
ask the professor of English for further references, then have we
evidence of real interest. Interest is, therefore, an active attitude
toward life's experience. Rational motivation is almost a guarantee of
this active attitude of interest.

Intelligent motivation in teaching has far-reaching values for both
student and teacher. It stirs interest and guarantees attention and
thus tends to keep aroused the activity of the students. It
establishes an end toward which all effort of teacher and student must
bend. It enables the student to follow a line of thought more
intelligently, and occasionally to anticipate conclusions. For the
teacher it serves as a standard, in terms of which he reorganizes his
subject matter, judges the value of each topic, and omits socially
useless matter which has too long been retained in the course in the
fond hope that it will in some way develop the mind.

=Beginning at the point of contact=

The instructor who strives to motivate the subject matter he teaches
usually begins with that phase of the subject which is most intimately
related to the student's life and environment. Every subject worth
teaching crosses the student's life at some point. The contacts
between pupil and subject afford the most natural and the most
effective starting points in the teaching of any subject.

The subject matter in a college course is too frequently so organized
that it presents points of discrepancy between itself and the student.
To the college student life is not classified and systematized to a
nicety. Experiences occur in more or less accidental but natural
sequence. Scientific classification is the product of a mature mind
possessing mastery of a given portion of the field of knowledge. To
thrust the student, who is just finding his way in a new course, into
a thoroughly scientific classification of a subject, is to present in
the introduction what should come in the conclusion.

Many a student taking his introductory course in psychology begins
with a definition of the subject, its relation to all social and
physical sciences, and its classification. All these are aspects of
the subject which the mind conversant with it sees clearly and
understands thoroughly, but which the inexperienced student accepts
merely because the facts are printed in his textbook. The youthful
mind is concerned with the present and with the immediate environment.
Too many of our college courses, in the initial stages, transport the
student into the realm of theory or into the distant past. The
student cannot orientate himself in this new environment and is soon
lost on the highways and byways of classification; to him the subject
becomes a study of words rather than of vital ideas. Why must the
introductory course in philosophy begin with the ancient philosophers,
and give the major part of the term to the study of dead philosophers
and their theories long since refuted and discarded, while vital
modern philosophic thought is crowded into the last few sessions of
the semester?

=Illustrations of maxim. Begin at the point of contact=

The pedagogical significance of beginning at the point of contact can
best be understood and appreciated by illustrations of actual teaching
conditions. Most initial courses in economics begin by positing that
economics is the science of the consumption, distribution, and
production of wealth. The student is told that in earlier systems of
economics production was studied as the initial economic process, but
that the more modern view makes consumption the starting process. All
this the student takes on faith. He does not really see its bearings
and its implications; he is as unconcerned with the new formulation as
he is with the old; he feels at once far removed from economics. The
succeeding lessons study economic laws with little reference to the
economic life that the student lives. In a later chapter he learns a
definition of wages, the forces that determine wage, and the mode of
computing the share of the total produce that must go to wages.

Here we have a course that does not begin at the point of contact,
that presents the very discrepancies between itself and the student
that were noted before. How can we overcome them? By proceeding
psychologically. The instructor refers to two or three important wage
disputes in current industrial life; these conflicts are analyzed; the
contending demands are studied, and the forces controlling the
adoption of a new wage scale are noted. After this study of actual
economic conditions the students are led to formulate their own
definition of wages, and to discover the forces that determine wage.
Their conclusions are of course tentative. The textbook or textbooks
are consulted in order to verify the formulations and the conclusions
of the class. Thus the course is developed entirely through a series
of contacts with economic life. The final topic in the course is the
formulation of a definition of economics. Now the class sums up all
that it has seen and learned of economics during the year. The cold
and empty definition now glows with meaning. Such a course awakens an
intelligent interest in economic life; it develops a mode of thought
in social sciences and a sense of self-reliance; it teaches the
student that all conclusions are tentative and constantly subject to
verification; it fosters a critical attitude toward printed text.

The college graduate who studied college mathematics, advanced
algebra, trigonometry, analytical geometry, and calculus, looks back
with satisfaction at work completed. Each of these subjects seemed to
have little or no relation to the other; each was kept in a
water-tight compartment. He remembers few, if any, of the formulæ,
equations, and symbols. He recalls vividly his admiration of the
author's ingenious method of deriving equations. Every succeeding
theorem, formula, or equation was another puzzle in a subject which
seemed to be composed of a series of difficult, unrelated, and
unapplied mathematical proofs. The course ended, the mass of data was
soon obliterated from the mind's active possessions.

What is the meaning of it all? What is its relation to life? There is
no doubt that much of this mathematics has its application to life's
needs, and that these successive subjects of mathematics are
thoroughly interdependent. But nothing in the mode of instruction
leads the student to see either the application or the interrelation
of all this higher mathematics. Would it not be better to give a
single course called mathematics rather than these successive
subjects? Would it not be more enlightening if each new mathematical
principle were taught through a situation in building, engineering, or
mechanics so that the student would at all times see the intimate
relation between mathematical law and physical forces? Would not the
disciplinary values of mathematics be intensified for the student by
teaching it in a way that presents a quantitative interpretation of
the daily phenomena in his experience?

Teachers of philosophy and psychology too often fall into a formalism
that robs their subject of all its vitalizing influences. Many a
student enters his course in logic with high hopes. At last he is to
learn the laws of thought which will render him keen in detection of
fallacies and potent in the presentation of argument. How bitter is
his disappointment when he finds his course dissipated in definitions
and classifications. His logic gives itself to the discussion of such
patent fallacies as, "A good teacher knows his subject; Williams knows
his subject, therefore he is a good teacher." Day after day he proves
the error in every form of stupidity or the truth of what is
axiomatic. He tires of "Gold is a metal" and "Socrates is mortal." Few
courses in logic have the courage to break away from the traditional
formalism and to begin each new principle or fundamental concept of
logic by analyzing editorials, arguments, contentions in newspapers,
magazines, campaign literature, or the actual textbooks. Few students
complete their course in logic with a keener insight into thought and
with a maturer or more aggressive mental attitude.

=Beginning at the point of contact relates the subject to the life of
the student=

It was pointed out in a previous illustration that the college student
"taking philosophy" is seldom made to feel that the subject he studies
is related to the problems that arise in his own life. Too frequently
introductory courses in philosophy are historical and extensive in
scope, striving to develop mastery of facts rather than to give new
viewpoints. The student learns names of philosophers, and attempts to
memorize the philosophic system developed by each thinker. Such a
course imposes a heavy burden on retentive power, for no little effort
is required to remember the distinctive philosophical systems
advocated by the respective writers. To the students these
philosophers represent a group of peculiar people differing one from
the other in their degrees of "queerness." One system is as far
removed as another from the life that the student experiences; no
system helps him to find himself. An introductory course in philosophy
should begin with the problems of philosophy; it should have its
origin in the reflective and speculative problems of the student
himself. As the course progresses, the student should feel a growing
sense of power, an increasing ability to formulate more clearly, to
himself at least, the questions of religion and ethics that arise in
the life of a normal thinking person. So, too, courses in ethics and
psychology lose the vital touch unless they begin in the life of the
student and apply their lessons to his social and intellectual
environment.

It must be pointed out, however, that the social sciences lend
themselves more readily to this intimate treatment than do languages,
or the physical sciences, but at all points possible in the study of a
subject, the experience of the student must be introduced as a means
of giving the subject real meaning. In teaching composition and
rhetoric illustrations of the canons of good form need not be
restricted to the past. Current magazines and newspapers are not
devoid of effective illustrations. When the older literary forms are
used exclusively as models of language, the student ends his course
with the erroneous notion that contemporary writing is cheap and
sensational and devoid of artistic craftsmanship.

Courses in physics and chemistry frequently devote themselves to a
development of principles rather than to the applications of the
studies to every sphere of life. Introductory college courses in
zoölogy spend the year in the minutiæ of the lowest animal forms and
rarely reach any animal higher in the scale than the crayfish. We
still find students in botany learning the various margins of leaves,
the system of venation, the scientific classifications, but at the end
of the course, unable to recognize ordinary leaves and just as blind
to nature as they were before. Zoölogy and botany do not always--as
they should--give a new view of life, a new attitude towards living
phenomena, a new contact with nature.

Careful inquiry among college students will reveal an amazing
ignorance of common chemical and physical phenomena after full-year
courses in chemistry and physics. We find a student giving two
semesters to work in each of these subjects. He spends most of his
time learning the chemical elements, their characteristics and the
modes of testing for them. The major portion of the time is spent in
the laboratory, where he must discover for himself the elementary
practices of the subject and test the validity of well-established
truths. At the end of his second semester he has not developed
sufficient laboratory technique for significant work in chemistry; he
is ignorant of the chemical explanation of the most common phenomena
in life.

=Pedagogical vs. logical organization=

There is much to be said for the position taken by the "older
teachers," who may not possess the scholarship of the "younger
investigators" but who argue for a general course in which laboratory
work shall be reduced, technique minimized, and attention focused on
giving an extensive view of chemical forces. The simple chemical facts
in digestion, metabolism, industry, war, medicine, etc., would be
presented in such a way as to make life a more intelligent process and
to give an insight into the method of science. In the courses that
follow the introductory one, there would be a marked change in aim;
the student would be taught the laboratory technique and would be
given a more intensive study of the important aspects of chemistry.
Similar changes in the introductory courses in physics are urged by
these same teachers.

Beginning at the point of contact may frequently interfere with the
logical arrangement of the course of study; it may wrench many a topic
out of its accustomed place in the textbook; it will demand that the
applications, which come last in most logically arranged courses, be
given first and that definitions and principles which come first be
given last. This logical arrangement, it was pointed out, is usually
the expression of the matured mind that is thoroughly conversant with
every aspect of a subject; it may mean little, however, to the
beginner--so little that he does not even slightly appreciate its
significance. The loss in logical sequence entailed by beginning at
the point of contact is often more than compensated for by the
advantages which are derived from a psychological presentation.

=Proper organization as a factor in effective teaching=

A well-organized lesson possesses teaching merits which may counteract
almost all the usual weaknesses found in poor teaching. Good
organization determines clearness of comprehension, ease of retention,
and ability of recall; it makes for economy of time and mental energy;
it simplifies the processes of mental assimilation; it teaches the
student, indirectly but effectively, to think sequentially. We have
all suffered too keenly, as auditors and readers, the inconveniences
of poor organization, not to realize the worth of proper organization
of knowledge in teaching.

Organization of knowledge has become a pedagogical slogan, but its
increase in popularity has not been accompanied by increased clearness
of comprehension of its meaning. What, then, is meant by proper
organization? It must ever be borne in mind that proper organization
is a relative condition, the limits of which are determined by the
capacities of the students and the nature of the subject matter. What
is effective organization of facts in elementary history may be very
ineffective organization for students of high school or college grade.
Making due allowance for relative conditions, good organization may be
said to consist of five essential characteristics.

_Logical sequence_ is the first of these. It is apparent that the more
rational the sequence of facts, the more effective is the organization
of knowledge. Data organized on a basis of cause and effect,
similarity, contrast or any other logical relationship will help to
secure the teaching advantages we have mentioned. A search for this
simple principle in most textbooks on American or English history or
literature reveals its complete absence. A detailed mass of historical
information grouped into administrations or reigns is merely a
mechanical organization in which time, the accidental element, and
not the development of social movements, the logic of human history,
is the determining factor. In too many courses in literature the
student learns names of writers, biographical data, and literary
characteristics of the masters, but fails to see the development of
the movement of which the writer was a part. Events of history placed
in their social movements, writers in literature placed in the school
in which they belong, give the student the logical ties which bind the
knowledge to him. So, too, one often analyzes the sequence of chapters
in an advanced algebra or a trigonometry and fails to discover the
governing rationale. It must be remembered, however, that the nature
of the subject will often reduce the logical element in its
organization. Instances in language teaching may be cited as
illustrations of teaching situations where a mechanical organization
is often the only one possible because of the arbitrary character of
the subject matter.

=Meaning of organization of subject matter=

_Relativity_ of importance is the second factor of good organization.
A cursory study of a well-organized chapter or merely passing
attention to a well-organized lecture reveals at once a distinct
difference in the emphasis on the various parts or elements of the
subject. The proportional allotment of time or space, the number of
illustrations, the number of questions asked on a given point, the
force of language--these are all means of bringing out the relative
importance of constituent topics or principles. In retrospect, a
well-organized lesson presents an appearance similar to a contour map;
each part stands out in distinctive color according to its
significance.

It is frequently argued by teachers that students of college age
should be required to distinguish the relativity of importance of the
parts of a lesson or the topics in a subject; that the instructor who
points out the changing importance of each succeeding part of a lesson
is enervating the student by doing for him what he ought to do for
himself. This is true in part, but it must be realized that the
instructor who through questions and directed discussions leads
students to formulate for themselves the relative importance of data
is not only carrying out the suggestion made in the preceding
paragraph but is also developing in his students a power they too
frequently lack. Those who have studied the notes that students take
in their classes have seen how frequently facts are torn from their
moorings; how wrong principles are derived from illustrations; how a
catch-phrase becomes a basic principle; how simple truths and axioms
are distorted in the frenzy of note taking. Through questions if
possible, through emphasis on illustrations and explanations, where no
other means is available, students must be made to see that all facts
of a subject are not of the same hue, that some are faint of tint,
others in shadow, and still others in high colors. Without this
relativity of importance, facts are grouped; with it, they are
intelligently organized.

_An underlying tendency_ can be discerned in well-organized knowledge.
Not only are facts arranged in logical sequence and emphasized
according to importance, but there is in addition a central principle
or an underlying purpose giving unifying force to them all. We can
illustrate the need of this third characteristic of good organization
by referring to a college course in American history which gives much
time to the period from 1815 to 1860. The events of these forty-five
years are not taught in administrations but are summed up in six
national tendencies; viz., the questions of state sovereignty,
slavery, territorial acquisition, tariff, industrial and
transportational progress, and foreign policy. Each of these movements
is treated as intensively as time permits. At the end of the study of
the entire period, the student is left with these six topics but
without a unifying principle; to him, these are six unrelated currents
of events. In each of these problems the North and the South displayed
distinctive attitudes, acted from distinctive motives, expressed
distinctive needs and preferences, but these were never brought out
either through well-formulated questions or through explanation. As a
result, the class never realize fully that those years, 1815-1860,
marked the period of growing sectional differences, misunderstandings,
and animosities. Had this underlying tendency been brought out clearly
at various points in the course, the students would have carried away
a permanent impression of what is most vital in this period of
American development.

_Gradation_ of subject matter is another characteristic of good
organization. Careful gradation is not so vital in subjects of social
content as it is in mathematics, foreign languages, and exact
sciences. The most important single factor in removing difficulties
that beset a student is gradation. Teaching problems often arise
because the instructor or the textbook presents more than one
difficulty at a time. Teachers who lack intellectual sympathy or who
are so lost in the advanced stages of their specialty that they can no
longer image the successive steps of difficulty, one by one, that
present themselves to a mind inexperienced in their respective fields,
are frequently guilty of this pedagogical error. Malgradation of
subject matter is the direct cause of serious loss of time and energy
and of needless discouragement not only to students but to instructors
as well.

_Ability of the student to summarize_ easily is a test of good
organization. At the end of a loosely organized chapter or lesson the
student experiences no little difficulty in setting forth the
underlying principles and their supporting data. It does not help much
to have the textbook or the instructor state the summary either at the
end of the lesson in question or at the beginning of the succeeding
one. The summary of a lesson, given by the class, is a test of the
effectiveness of instruction. Summaries given by teachers or textbooks
have little or no pedagogical justification. Only in cases where the
summary introduces a new point of view or unifying principles, or when
it sets forth basic principles in particularly forceful language--only
then is the statement by teacher or textbook justifiable.

=Thoroughness=

Teachers are advised to be thorough in their instruction. They in turn
urge their students to strive for thoroughness in study. We praise or
impugn the scholarship of our colleagues because it possesses or lacks
thoroughness. Here we have a quality of knowledge universally
extolled. But what is meant by thoroughness? How can teachers or
students know that they are attaining that degree of comprehension
known as thoroughness? We are told that thoroughness is a relative
condition, always changing with accompanying circumstances. Even an
unattainable ideal can be defined,--why not thoroughness? We must,
therefore, attempt to determine the meaning of thoroughness as used in
teaching and study.

=Negative interpretation of thoroughness=

It may be helpful to formulate the common or lay interpretation of
thoroughness. The term "thoroughness" is erroneously used in a
quantitative sense to describe scholastic attainment. We are told of a
colleague's thoroughness in history; he knows all names, dates,
places, facts in the development of mankind; his knowledge of his
specialty is encyclopedic; "there is no need of looking things up when
he is around." A professor of English literature boasted of the
thoroughness with which he teaches _Hamlet_: "Every word of value and
every change in the form of versification are marked; every allusion
is taken up, every peculiar grammatical construction is brought to the
attention of the class." Here we have illustrations of an erroneous
conception of thoroughness which gives it an extensive meaning and
regards it as the accumulation of a mass of data.

=Positive interpretation of thoroughness=

Yet the master of chronological detail in history may have no
historical imagination, no historical perspective, no historical
judgment. He may possess the facts, but a period in history still
remains for him a stretch of time limited by two dates, rather than a
succession of years in which all mankind seems to be moving in the
same direction, possessed of the same viewpoints, the same hopes and
aspirations. The professor of English literature does not see that in
teaching _Hamlet_ he forsook his specialty, literature, for philology
and mythology; that he turned his back on art and took up language
structure. Thoroughness is not completeness, because the possession of
the details of a subject does not necessarily bring with it a true
comprehension of it. Add all the details, and the sum total is nothing
more than the group of details. Thoroughness is a degree of
comprehension resulting from the acquisition of new points of view.
The teacher of history who sees underlying forces in the facts of the
past, who understands that true inwardness of any movement which shows
him its relation to all phases of life, but who nevertheless may not
have ready command of all the specific details, is more thorough in
his scholarship. He has the things that count; the facts that are
forgotten can easily be found. The class that studies the dramatic
structure of _Hamlet_, that sees Shakespeare's power of character
portrayal, that takes up only such grammatical and language points as
give clearer comprehension or lead to greater appreciation of diction,
is thorough although it does not possess all the facts. It is thorough
because what is significant and dynamic in _Hamlet_ is made focal. The
postgraduate student assiduously searching for data for his doctorate
thesis is often guided by the erroneous conception of thoroughness; he
wants facts that have never seen the light. The more he gets of these,
the nearer he approaches his goal. He avoids conclusions; he is
counseled by his professors against giving too much of his book to the
expression of his views. Analyze the chapters of a doctorate thesis
and note the number of pages given to facts and those to conclusions
and interpretations. The proportion is astonishing. The student's
power to find facts is clearly shown; his power to use facts is not
revealed by his thesis. The richer the thesis is in detail, in
references, in allusions to dusty tomes and original sources, the more
thorough is it frequently considered by the faculty. We have failed to
realize that this excessive zeal in gathering and collating a large
number of not commonly known facts may make the thesis more
cumbersome, more complete, but not necessarily more thorough. However,
the plea for a new standard in judging doctorate theses is meeting
with gratifying encouragement.

What, then, are the teaching practices that make for greater
thoroughness, that increase the qualitative and intensive character of
knowledge? We shall discuss some of these in the succeeding
paragraphs.

=How can thoroughness be produced?=

The _acquisition of new points of view_ makes for increased
thoroughness of comprehension. The class that understands the causes
of the American Revolution from the American point of view knows of
the navigation laws, the quartering of soldiers in American homes, the
Stamp Act, the Boston Massacre,--the usual provocations that strained
patience to the breaking point. The college teacher of American
history who spends time on the riots in New York in which a greater
number of colonists was killed than in Boston, who teaches in detail
the various acts forbidding the manufacture of hats and of iron ware,
or the protests against English practices in the colonies made by
British merchants, etc., is adding more facts, but he may only be
intensifying the erroneous conclusion that the students have formed in
earlier and less complete courses. The topic, "Causes of the American
Revolution," grows in thoroughness, not through the addition of these
facts but through the presentation of new interpretations of the
practices of the English. When we explain that the English believed in
virtual and not actual representation, the students see a new meaning
in "taxation without representation." When the students learn that the
English government decided on a new economic and industrial policy
which planned to have the mother country specialize in manufacture and
transportation and the colonies in production of raw materials, the
students see reason, though not necessarily justice, in the acts
prohibiting Americans from various forms of manufacture and
transportational activities. These new facts modify in the minds of
students the point of view so often given in elementary courses, that
the War for Independence was caused by sheer British meanness and
injustice, by her policy of reckless repression.

It is not always possible to give new points of view to all knowledge
in all subjects. There are cases in which there is only one point of
view or where students may not be ready for a new interpretation
because of their limited mastery of a new field of knowledge. Under
these conditions an added point of view is a source of confusion
rather than an aid to clearer comprehension. Some subjects, like the
social sciences, naturally allow for richer interpretations. Others,
like the languages and the physical sciences, present only very
limited opportunities; in the biological sciences the possibilities,
though not as rich as in the social sciences, are numerous and
productive of good results.

_Comparison_ is a second means of producing thoroughness of
comprehension. Good teaching abounds in comparisons which are
introduced at the end of every important topic rather than reserved
for examination questions. Comparisons used liberally at every logical
pause in the development of a subject always give an added viewpoint,
review early subject matter incidentally, stir thought, and make for
better organization. How much more clearly are the causes of the War
of 1812 understood after they are compared with those that brought on
the Revolutionary War! How much more definite are the causes of the
American Revolution when compared with those that brought on the
French Revolution! A writer, a school, or a movement in English
literature may be understood when studied by itself; but how is
comprehension deepened when each is compared with another writer or
school or movement! Comparison of perception and conception or
appreciation and association in psychology, makes each activity stand
out clearer in the mind of the student. Compare the laws of rent,
wage, profit, and interest in economics, and not only each is better
understood but the basic laws of distribution are readily derived by
the student. Similarly, comparisons in mathematics, physics,
chemistry, and the entire range of collegiate subjects give increased
comprehension, useful though incidental reviews, and greater
unification of knowledge, as well as added points of view.

_Correlation_ as a means of producing thoroughness is closely allied
to comparison. Correlation relates kindred topics of different
subjects, while comparison points out relations in the same subject.
The instructor who correlates the history of education with the
political and economic history that the student learned in another
course is unifying related experience, reducing the field of
knowledge, introducing logical organization, and adding new
interpretations to facts already acquired. Similarly, teaching must be
enriched by correlating physics and mathematics, chemistry and
physics, literature and music, history of literature and general
history, until instruction has taken advantage of every vital relation
among subjects. With the growth of specialized subjects there is an
unfortunate tendency toward isolation until the untrained mind looks
upon the curriculum as a series of unrelated experiences, each
rivaling the other in its claim to importance.

The advantage of correlation will remain lost in college teaching as
long as each instructor regards himself as a specialized investigator
concerned with teaching his subject rather than his students. How many
college teachers know what subjects their students have already taken,
or knowing the names of these subjects, have a general knowledge of
their content? The college professor of the preceding generation was a
cultured gentleman whose general scholarship transcended the limits of
his specialty. He understood and knew the curriculum as a whole.
Because of changes in every phase of our civilization, his successor
has a deeper but a narrower knowledge. He knows little of the work of
his students outside of his own subject. He does not relate and
correlate the ever growing field of knowledge; he merely adds--by the
introduction of his own mass of facts--to the isolation which
characterizes the parts of college curricula. This tendency must be
counteracted, not by interfering with the scholastic interests of any
instructor, but by occasional conferences of instructors of allied
subjects in order to agree on common meeting grounds, on points of
correlation, on useful repetitions, and on the elimination of needless
duplications. Such pedagogical conferences are rare because college
teachers are not alive to the need of reform in methods of college
teaching.

Thoroughness results from _increase in the number of applications_ of
knowledge. The introduction of the functional view into teaching
brings with it a realization of the vital needs of increased ways of
applying the experience we present to students. As the laws of
physics, mathematics, biology, composition, economics, etc., are
applied to a number of specific instances, the generalization grows in
meaning and in force. Specific cases vary, and, varying, give new
color and new meaning to the laws that are applied to explain them.
How much a law in chemistry means after it is applied to specific
instances in industry, human and animal physiology, plant life, or
engineering! The equation learned in descriptive geometry may be
understood, but it never means so much as when it is applied to
specific problems in engineering. Applications give added insight into
knowledge and therefore make for greater thoroughness of
comprehension.

=Teaching as a process of arousing self-activity=

Locke's Blank Paper Theory, enunciated centuries ago, has been
repeatedly and triumphantly refuted even by tyros in psychology, but
in educational practices it continues to hold sway. College teaching
too frequently proceeds on the assumption that the mind is an aching
void anxiously awaiting the generous contributions of knowledge to be
made by the teacher. College examinations usually test for
multiplicity of facts acquired, rather than for power developed.
College teaching usually does not perceive that the mind is a reacting
machine containing a vast amount of pent-up potential energy which is
ready to react upon any presentation; that development takes place
only as this self-activity expresses itself; that education is
evolutionary rather than involutionary. Teaching is, therefore, a
process of arousing, sustaining, and directing the self-activity of
pupils. The more persistently and successfully this activity is
aroused, the more systematically it is directed to intelligent ends,
the more skillful is the teaching. Teachers do not impart knowledge,
for that is impossible; they _occasion_ knowledge. Only as the teacher
succeeds through questions, directions, diagrams, and all known
devices, in arousing the self-activity of the student, is he producing
the conditions under which knowledge is acquired by the pupil.

=Evaluation of common methods of teaching=

The methods commonly used in college teaching are as follows:

     1. Lecture method, with or without quiz sections.

     2. Development method, with or without textbook.

     3. Combination of lecture and development method.

     4. Reference readings and the presentation of papers by students.

     5. Laboratory work by students, together with lectures and quiz
        sections.

Teachers have long debated the relative merits of these methods or
combinations of them. They fail to realize that each method is
correct, depending upon the aim to be accomplished and the governing
circumstances. No method has a monopoly of pedagogical wisdom; no
method, used exclusively, is free from inherent weakness. A teaching
method must be judged by its ability to arouse and sustain
self-activity and to attain the aim set for a specific lesson. With
this standard for judging a method of teaching, we must stop to sum up
the relative worth of common methods of college teaching.

=Lecture method evaluated=

The _lecture method_ has been the target for much criticism for many
centuries. Socrates inveighed against its use by the sophists, and
educators since have repeated the attack. The reasons are legion:
(_a_) The lecture method tends to discourage the pupil's activity. The
student feels no responsibility during the lecture; he listens
leisurely, and makes notes of the instructor's contribution. The
student's judgment is not called into play; he learns to take
knowledge on the authority of the instructor. The sense of comfort and
security experienced in a lecture hour is fatal even to aggressive and
assertive minds. Sooner or later the students succumb to the inertia
developed by the lecture system.

(_b_) A second limitation of an exclusive lecture method is its
inability to make permanent impressions. Many a student, entering the
lecture hall, has completely forgotten even the theme of the last
lecture. Knowledge is retained only when it is obtained by the
expression of self-activity. To offset this weakness notes must be
taken, but these prove to be the bane of the lecture method. Some
students, in their efforts to record a point just concluded, lose not
only the thought of what they are trying to write but also the new
thought which the instructor is now explaining; they drop both ideas
from their notes and wait for the next step in the development of the
lecture. This accounts for the many gaps in the notes kept by
students. Some instructors, dismayed by the amount of knowledge lost
by students, resort to dictation devices. Others, realizing the
pedagogical weakness of such teaching, distribute mimeographed
outlines of carefully prepared summaries of the lectures. Now the
student is relieved of the tedium of note taking, but the temptation
to let his mind wander afield is intensified. An outline, scanty of
detail, but so devised as to keep the organization and sequence of
subject matter clear in the minds of students, is, of course, helpful.
But detailed outlines distributed among the students discourage even
attentive listening.

(_c_) In teaching by lectures only there is no contact between student
and teacher. The student does not recite; he does not reveal his type
of mind, his mode of study, his grasp of subject matter. He is merely
a passive recipient. To this third weakness of the lecture method we
may add a fourth: (_d_) it tends to emphasize quantity rather than
method. The student is confronted with a great mass of facts, but he
does not acquire a mode of thought nor does he see the method by which
a given subject is developed. (_e_) The lecture method, therefore,
inculcates in students an attitude of mental subservience which is
fatal for the development of courageous and vigorous thought. And
finally (_f_) it must be urged that in lecture teaching the instructor
is not testing the accuracy of the students' conceptions nor is he
able to judge the efficacy of his own methods.

But, on the other hand, it must be admitted that with an effective
lecturer, possessed of commanding personality, the lecture gives a
point of view of a subject and an enthusiasm for it which other
devices fail to achieve. The lecture method makes for economy of time
and enables one to present his subject to his class with a
succinctness absent from many textbooks. Where much must be taught in
a limited time, where a comprehensive view of an extensive field must
be given, when certain types of responses or mental attitudes are
desired, the lecture serves well.

=Final worth of lecture method=

Experience teaches that an exclusive lecture system is not conducive
to efficient work; that lectures to regular classes ought to be
punctuated by questions whenever interest lags; that the occasional
and even the unannounced lecture is more effective; that supplementary
devices for checking up assignments and regular collateral study are
of vital importance. Where regular lectures are followed by detailed
analyses in quiz sections the best results are obtained when the
lecturer himself is the questioner. Where quiz sections are turned
over to assistants, wise procedure requires that quiz leaders attend
the lectures and decide, in conference with the lecturer, the specific
aims which must be achieved in the quiz work and the assigned readings
which must be given to students in preparation for each quiz hour.
Unless this is done, the student is frequently confused by the
divergent points of view presented by lecturer, quiz master, and
textbook.

_The development method_ has much to commend it. It stimulates
activity by its repeated questions. Few or no notes are taken. There
is constant contact with the student. At every point the mental
content of the pupils is revealed. The teacher sees the result of his
teaching by the intelligence of successive responses. The pupil is
being trained in systematic thought and in concentration. But it must
be remembered that the development method is often costly in time
because answers may be wrong or irrelevant. It may encourage
wandering; a student's reply reveals ignorance of a basic principle,
and the aim of the lesson is often forgotten in the eagerness to
patch up this misconception. Then, too, in subject matter that is
arbitrary, as in descriptive and narrative history, no development is
possible. In such cases the questions are designed to test the
student's knowledge of the text, and the lesson becomes a quiz rather
than a development.

It is plain, therefore, that a judicious combination of the lecture
and development methods will give better results than the exclusive
use of either one. The analysis of the pedagogical advantages of each
leads to the conclusion that the development method should predominate
and that the lecture method should be used sparingly and always with
some of the checking devices described.

=Place of reference reading in college teaching=

=Evaluation of development--Socratic or heuristic method=

A common method employed in advanced courses in college subjects
emphasizes _reference study and research_. The entire course is
reduced to a series of problems, each of which deals with a vital
aspect of the subject. Each student is made responsible for a topic.
The initial hours are devoted to an examination of the common sources
of information in this specific subject, the modes of using these, the
standards to be attained in writing a paper on one of the topics, and
similar matters. The remainder of the term is given over to seminar
work: each student reads his paper and holds himself in readiness to
answer all questions his classmates may ask on his topic. The aims of
such a course are obviously to develop a knowledge of sources and an
ability to use intelligently the unorganized data found by the
student. The results of these pseudo-seminar courses are far from what
was anticipated. A thorough investigation of such a course will soon
convince the teacher that the seminar method, whatever its merits in
university training, must be refined and diluted before it is applied
to college teaching. Let us see why.

Successful reference reading requires a knowledge of the field
studied, maturity of mind, discriminating judgment in the selection of
material, and ability in organization. The university student is not
only maturer and more serious but has a basis of broader knowledge
than most undergraduates. Without this equipment of mental powers and
knowledge, the student cannot judge the merits of contending views nor
harmonize seeming discrepancies. A student who has no ample foundation
of economics cannot study the subject by reference reading on the
problems of economics. To learn the meaning of value he would read the
psychological explanations of the Austrian schools and the
materialistic conceptions of the classical writers. He would then find
himself in a state of confusion, owing to what seemed to him to be a
superfluity of explanations of value. When one understands one point
of view, an added viewpoint is a source of greater clarity and a means
of deeper understanding. But when one is entirely ignorant of
fundamental concepts, two points of view presented simultaneously
become two sources of confusion. In the university only the student of
tried worth is permitted to take a seminar course. In the upper
classes in college, mediocre students are often welcomed into a
seminar course in order to help float an unpromising elective.

=Limitations of seminar method in undergraduate teaching=

The college seminar is usually unsuccessful because few students have
ability to hold the attention of their classmates for a period of
thirty minutes or more. Language limitations, lack of a knowledge of
subject matter, inability to illustrate effectively, and the skeptical
attitude of fellow students all militate against successful teaching
by a member of the class. Students presenting papers often select
unimportant details or give too many details. The rest of the class
listen languidly, take occasional notes, and ask a few perfunctory
questions to help bring the session to a close. A successful hour is
rare. The student who prepared the topic of the day undoubtedly is
benefited, but those who listen acquire little knowledge and less
power. The course ends without a comprehensive view of the entire
subject, without that knowledge which comes from the teacher's
leadership and instruction. This type of reference reading and
research has value when used as an occasional ten or fifteen minute
exercise to supplement certain aspects of class work. But as a steady
diet in a college course, the seminar usually leaves much to be
desired.

The _laboratory method_ is growing in favor today in college teaching.
It is employed in the social sciences, in sociology, in economics, in
psychology, in education, as well as in the physical and the
biological sciences. Where it is followed the aim is clearly twofold;
viz., to teach the method by which the specific subject is growing and
to develop in the students mental power and a scientific attitude
towards knowledge.

=Value of laboratory method=

Let us illustrate these two aims of the laboratory method. A
laboratory course in chemistry or biology or sociology may be designed
to teach the student the use of apparatus and equipment necessary for
work in a respective field; the method of attacking a problem; a
standard for distinguishing significant from immaterial data; methods
of gathering facts; the modes of keeping scientific records,--in a
word, the essence of the experience of successive generations of
investigators and contributors. But no successful laboratory results
can be obtained without a proper mental attitude. The student must
learn how to prevent his mental prepossessions or his desires from
coloring his observations; to allow for controls and variables; to
give most exacting care to every detail that may influence his result;
to regard every conclusion as a tentative hypothesis subject to
verification or modification in the light of further test. Unless the
student acquires a knowledge of the method of science and has achieved
these necessary modes of thought, his laboratory course has failed to
make its most significant contribution.

In courses where the aim is to teach socially necessary information or
to give a comprehensive view of the scope of a specific subject, it is
obvious that the laboratory method will lead far afield. It is for
this reason that introductory courses given in recitations, with
demonstrations by instructors, and occasional lecture and laboratory
hours, are more liberalizing in their influence upon the beginners
than courses that are primarily laboratory in character.

=Cautions in the use of the laboratory method=

Most laboratory courses would enhance their usefulness by observing a
few primary pedagogical maxims. The first of these counsels that we
establish most clearly the distinctive aim of the course. The
instructor must be sure that he has no quantitative aim to attain but
is occupied rather with the problems of teaching the method of his
specialty. Second, an earnest effort must be made to acquaint the
students with the general aim of the entire course as well as with the
specific aim of each laboratory exercise. The students must be made to
realize that they are not discovering new principles but that by
rediscovering old knowledge or testing the validity of well-established
truths they are developing not only the technique of investigational
work, but also a set of useful mental habits. Much in laboratory work
seems needless to the student who does not perceive the goal which
every task strives to attain.

A third requisite for successful laboratory work requires so careful a
gradation that every type of problem peculiar to a subject is made to
arise in the succession of exercises. It is wise at times to set a
trap for students so that they may learn through the consequences of
error. For this reason students may be permitted to leap to a
conclusion, to generalize from insufficient data, to neglect controls,
to overlook disturbing factors, etc. An improperly planned and poorly
graded laboratory course repeats exercises that involve the same
problems and omits situations that give training in attacking and
solving new problems.

Effective laboratory courses afford opportunity to students to repeat
those exercises in which they failed badly. If each exercise in the
course is designed to make a specific contribution to the development
of the student, it is obvious that merely marking the student zero for
a badly executed experiment is not meeting the situation. He must in
addition be given the opportunity to repeat the experiment in order
to derive the necessary variety of experiences from his laboratory
training. And, finally, the character of the test that concludes a
laboratory course must be considered. The test must be governed by the
same underlying aims that determine the entire course. It must seek to
reveal, not the mastery of facts, but growth in power. It must measure
what the student can do rather than what he knows. A properly
organized test serves to reinforce in the minds of students the aims
of the entire course.

=The college teacher not the university professor=

An analysis of effective teaching is necessarily incomplete that does
not give due consideration to the only human factor in the teaching
process--the teacher. We have too long repeated the old adages: "he
who knows can teach"; "a teacher is born, not made"; "experience is
the teacher of teachers." These dicta are all tried and true, but they
have the failings common to platitudes. It often happens that those
who know but lack in imagination and sympathy are by that very knowing
rendered unfit to teach. "Knowing" so well, they cannot see the
difficulties that beset the learner's path, and they have little
patience with the student's slow and measured steps in the very
beginnings of their specialty. It is true that some are born teachers,
but our educational institutions could not be maintained if classes
were turned over only to those to whom nature had given lavishly of
pedagogical power. Experience teaches even teachers, but the price
paid must be computed in terms of the welfare of the student. Teaching
is one of the arts in which the artist works only with living
material; yet college authorities still make no demand of professional
training and apprenticeship as prerequisites for admission to the
fraternity of teaching artists.

Ineffective college teaching will not improve until professional
teaching standards are set up by respected institutions. The college
teacher must be possessed of ample scholarship of a general nature. He
must have expertness in his specialty, to give him a knowledge of his
field, its problems and its methods. He must be a constant student,
so that his scholarship in his specialty will win recognition and
respect. But part of his preparation must be given over to
professional training for teaching. Without this, the prospective
teacher may not know until it is too late that his deficiencies of
personality unfit him for teaching. With it, he shortens his term of
novitiate and acquires his experience under expert guidance. The plan
of college-teacher training, given by Dr. Mezes in Chapter II, so
complete in scope, so thoroughly sound and progressive in character,
is here suggested as a type of professional preparation now sorely
needed.

=Testing the results of instruction=

The usual test of teacher and student is still the traditional
examination, with its many questions and sub-questions. We still
measure the results of instruction by fathoming the fund of
information our students carry away. But these traditional
examinations test for what is temporary and accidental. Facts known
today are forgotten tomorrow. The professor himself often comes to
class armed with notes, but he persists in setting up, as a test of
the growth of his students, their retentivity of the facts he gave
from these very notes. In the final analysis, these examinations are
not tests. The writer does not urge the abolition of examinations, but
argues rather for a reorganized examination that embodies new
standards. A real examination must test for what is permanent and
vital; it must measure the degree to which students approximate the
aims that were set up to govern the entire course; it must gauge the
mental habits, the growth in power, rather than facts. Part of an
examination in mathematics should test students' ability to attack new
problems, to plan a line of work, to think mathematically, to avoid
typical fallacies of thought. For this part of the test, books may be
opened and references consulted. In literature we may question on text
not discussed in class to ascertain the students' power of
appreciation or of literary criticism. So, too, in examinations in
social sciences, physical sciences, foreign languages, and biological
sciences, the examination must consist, in great measure, of
questions which test the acquisition of the habits of thought, of
work, of laboratory procedure--in a word, the permanent contribution
of any study. This part of an examination should be differentiated
from the more mechanical and memory questions which seek to reveal the
student's mastery of those facts of a subject which may be regarded as
socially necessary. Reduce the socially necessary data of any subject
to an absolute minimum and frame questions on it demanding no such
slovenly standard--sixty per cent--as now prevails in college
examinations. If the facts called for on an examination are really the
most vital in the subject, the passing grade should be very high. If
the questions seek to elicit insignificant or minor information, any
passing mark is too high. It is obvious, therefore, that a student
should receive two marks in most subjects,--one that rates power and
another that rates mere acquisition of facts. The passing grade in the
one would necessarily be lower than in the other. An examination is
justified only when it is so devised that it reveals not only the
students' stock of socially useful knowledge but also their growth in
mental power.

                                                   PAUL KLAPPER
  _College of the City of New York_



PART TWO

THE SCIENCES

  CHAPTER

   IV  THE TEACHING OF BIOLOGY
           _T. W. Galloway_

    V  THE TEACHING OF CHEMISTRY
           _Louis Kahlenberg_

   VI  THE TEACHING OF PHYSICS
           _Harvey B. Lemon_

  VII  THE TEACHING OF GEOLOGY
           _T. C. Chamberlin_

 VIII  THE TEACHING OF MATHEMATICS
           _G. A. Miller_

   IX  PHYSICAL EDUCATION IN THE COLLEGE
           _Thomas A. Storey_



IV

THE TEACHING OF BIOLOGY


BIOLOGY AND EDUCATION

=Biology the science basal to all knowing=

The life sciences, broadly conceived, are basal to all departments of
knowledge; and the study of biology illumines every field of human
interest. To the believer in evolution the human body, brain, senses,
intellect, sensations, impulses, habits, ideas, knowledges, ideals,
standards, attractions, sympathies, combinations, organizations,
institutions, and all other powers and possessions of every kind and
degree are merely crowning phenomena of life itself. The languages,
history, science, economic systems, philosophies, and literatures of
mankind are only special manifestations and expressions of life and a
part, therefore, of the studies by which we as living beings are
trying to appraise and appreciate the meaning of life and of the
universe of which life is the most significant product. Life is not
merely the most notable product of our universe; it is the most
persuasive key for solving the riddle of the universe, and is the only
universe product which aspires to interpret the processes by which it
has reached its own present level.

All knowledge, then, is _biological_ in the very vital sense that the
living organism is the only _knowing_ thing. The knowing process is a
life process. Even when knowledge pertains to non-living objects,
therefore, it is one-half biological; our most worth-while
knowledge--that of ourselves and other organisms--is wholly so.
Because all our knowledge is colored by the life process, of which the
knowing process is derivative, the study of life underlies every
science and its applications, every art and its practice, every
philosophy and its interpretations. Biology must be taught in sympathy
with the whole joint enterprise of living and of learning.

=Adaptation without losing adaptability the goal of life and of education=

The most outstanding phenomenon of life is the _adaptation_ of living
things to the real and significant conditions of their existence.
Furthermore, as these conditions are not static, particularly in the
case of humans, organisms must not merely be adapted, but must
continue thereafter to be _adaptable_. Now learning is only a special
case under living, and education a special case under life. Its
purposes are the purposes of life. It is an artificial and rapid
recapitulation for the individual, in method and results, of past life
itself. The purpose of education is "adaptation,--with the retention
of adaptability." It is to bring the individual into attunement,
through his own responses and growth, with all the real factors,
external and internal, in his life,--material, intellectual,
emotional, social, and spiritual,--and at the same time leave him
plastic.

Adaptation comes through the habit-forming experiences of stimulus and
response. The very process of adaptation, therefore, tends toward
fixity and to destroy adaptability. It is thus the task of education,
as it is of life, to replace the native, inexperienced and
physiological plasticity of youth with some product of experience
which shall be able to revise habits in the interest of new
situations. The adaptability of the experienced person must be
psychical and acquired. It must be in the realm of appreciation,
attitude, choice, self-direction--a realm superior to habit.

In this human task of securing adaptation and retaining adaptiveness
the life sciences have high rank. In addition to furnishing the very
conception itself that we have been trying to phrase, they give
illustrations of all the historic occasions, kinds, and modes of
adaptation; in lacking the exactness of the mathematical and physical
sciences they furnish precisely the degree of uncertainty and openness
of opportunity and of mental state which the act of living itself
demands. In other words the science of life is, if properly presented,
the most normal possible introduction to the very practical art of
living. Because of the parallel meaning of education and life in
securing progressive adaptation to the essential influential forces of
the universe, an appreciative study of biology introduces directly to
the purposes and methods of human education.


CHIEF AIMS OF BIOLOGY AS A COLLEGE SUBJECT

=Why study biology in college?=

While students differ in the details of their purposes in life, all
must learn to make the broad adjustments to the physical conditions of
life; to the problems of food and nutrition; to other organisms,
helpful and hurtful; to the internal impulses, tendencies, and
appetites; to the various necessary human contacts and relations; to
the great body of knowledge important to life, which human beings have
got together; to the prevailing philosophical interpretations of the
universe and of life; and to the pragmatic organizations, conventions,
and controls which human society has instituted. In addition to these,
some students of biology are going into various careers, each
demanding special adjustments which biology may aid notably. Such are
medicine and its related specialties, professional agricultural
courses, and biological research of all kinds.

An extended examination of college catalogs shows some consciousness
of these facts on the part of teachers of biology. The following needs
are formally recognized in the prospectuses: (1) The disciplinary and
cultural needs of the general student; (2) the needs of those
preparing for medicine or other professional courses; and (3) the
needs of the people proposing to specialize in botany and zoölogy.
These aims are usually mentioned in the order given here; but an
examination of the character of the courses often reveals the fact
that the actual organization of the department is determined by an
exact reversal of this order,--that most of the attention is given,
even in the beginning courses, to the task of preparing students to
take advanced work in the subject. The theory of the departments is
usually better than their practice.

In what follows these are the underlying assumptions,--which seem
without need of argument: (1) The general human needs should have the
first place in organizing the courses in biology; (2) the
introductory courses should not be constructed primarily as the first
round in the ladder of biological or professional specialization, but
for the general purposes of human life; (3) the preparation needed by
teachers of biology for secondary schools is more nearly like that
needful for the general student than that suited to the specialist in
the subject; and (4) the later courses may more and more be concerned
with the special ends of professional and vocational preparation.


GENERAL AIMS OF BIOLOGY IN EDUCATION

What are the general adaptive contributions of biology to human
nature? What are the results in the individual which biology should
aim to bring to every student? There are four classes of personal
possessions, important in human adaptation, to which biology ministers
in a conspicuous way: information and knowledge; ability and skills;
habits; and attitudes, appreciations, and ideals. These four universal
aims of education are doubtless closely related and actually
inseparable, but it is worth while to consider them apart for the sake
of clearness.


A. TYPES OF BIOLOGICAL KNOWLEDGE USEFUL IN THE ADAPTATION OF HUMAN
   BEINGS TO THE MOST IMPORTANT CONDITIONS OF THEIR LIFE

=(1) Study of biology furnishes knowledge of adaptive value=

(1) Some knowledge of the processes by which individual plants and
animals grow and differentiate, through nutrition and activity; of the
process of development common to all organisms; and the bearing of
these facts on human life, health, and conduct.

(2) An outline knowledge of reproduction in plants and animals; the
origin, nature, meaning, and results of sex; the contribution of sex
to human life, to social organization and ideals, and its importance
in determining behavior and controls.

(3) A good knowledge of the external forces most important in
influencing life; of the nature of the influence; of the various ways
in which organisms respond and become adjusted individually and
racially to these conditions. A sense of the necessity of adaptation;
of the working of the laws of cause and effect among living things, as
everywhere else; of the fact that nature's laws cannot be safely
ignored by man any more than by the lower organisms; of the relation
between animal behavior and human behavior.

(4) Equally a true conception of the known facts about the internal
tendencies in organisms including man, which we call hereditary. The
principles underlying plant, animal, and human breeding. Any progress
in behavior, in legislation, or in public opinion in the field of
eugenics, negative or positive, must come from the spread of such
knowledge.

(5) A knowledge of the numerous ways in which plants and animals
contribute to or interfere with human welfare. This includes use for
food, clothing, and labor saving; their destruction of other plants or
animals useful or hurtful to us; their work in producing, spreading,
or aiding in the cure of disease; their æsthetic service and
inspiration; the aid they give us in learning of our own nature
through the experiments we conduct upon them; and many miscellaneous
services.

(6) A conception of the evolutionary series of plants and animals, and
of man's place in the series; a reassurance that man's high place as
an intellectual and emotional being is in no way put in peril by his
being a part of the series. Some clear knowledge of the general manner
of the development of the plant and animal kingdoms to their present
complexity should be gained. The student should have some acquaintance
with the great generalizations that have meant so much to the science
and to all human thinking, should understand how they were reached and
the main classes of facts on which they are based.

(7) The general student should be required to have such knowledge of
structure and classification as is needed to give foundation and body
to the evolutionary conceptions of plants and animals, and to the
various processes and powers mentioned above--and only so much.

(8) Some knowledge of the development of the science itself; of its
relation to the other sciences; of the men who have most contributed
to it, and their contributions; of the manner of making these
discoveries, and of the bearing of the more important of these
discoveries upon human learning, progress, and well-being.

(9) Something of the parallelism between animal psychology, behavior,
habits, instincts, and learning, and those of man,--in both the
individual and the social realm.

(10) An elementary understanding of plant and animal and human
distribution over the earth, and of the factors that have brought it
about.


B. FORMS OF SKILL WHICH WORK IN BIOLOGY SHOULD BRING TO EVERY STUDENT

=(2) Biological study gives desirable skills=

Skill or ability may be developed in respect to the following
activities: seeking and securing information, recording it,
interpreting its significance, reaching general conclusions about it,
modifying one's conduct under the guidance of these conclusions, and,
finally, of appraising the soundness of this conduct in the light of
the results of it. All of these are of basic importance in the human
task of making conscious adjustments in actual life; and the ability
to get facts and to use them is more valuable than to possess the
knowledge of facts. Other sciences develop some of these forms of
skill better than biology does; nevertheless, we shall find that
biology furnishes a remarkably balanced opportunity to develop skills
of the various kinds. It presents a great range and variety of
opportunity to develop accuracy and skill in raising questions; in
observation and the use of precise descriptive terms in recording
results of observation; in experimentation; in comparison and
classification. It is peculiarly rich in opportunities to gain skill
in discriminating between important and unimportant data,--one of the
most vital of all the steps in the process of sound reasoning. In
practice, a datum may at first sight seem trivial, when in reality it
is very significant. _Skill_ in estimating values comes only with
_experience_ in estimating values, and in applying these estimates in
practice, and in observing and correcting the results of practice.

Finally, skill in adjusting behavior to knowledge is one of the most
necessary abilities and most difficult to attain. The study of animal
behavior experimentally is at the foundation of much that we know of
human psychology and the grounds of human behavior. Even in an
elementary class it is quite possible so to study animal responses and
the results of response as to give guidance and facility to the
individual in interpreting the efficiency of his own responses, and in
adding to his own controls. As has been said, practice of some kind is
necessary to determine whether our estimate of values is good. Even
vicarious experience has educative value.


C. HABITS WHICH MAY BE STRENGTHENED BY THE WORK IN BIOLOGY

=(3) Biology may supply adaptive habits=

Habits are of course the normal outcome of repeated action. Indeed,
skills are in a sense habits from another point of view. Skill,
however, looks rather toward the output; habit, toward the mode of
functioning by the person by whom the result is attained. We may then
develop habits in respect to all the processes and activities
mentioned above under the term "skills." The teacher of biology should
have definitely in purpose the securing for the student of habits of
inquiry, of diligence, of concentration, of accuracy of observation,
of seeking and weighing evidence, of detecting the essentials in a
mass of facts, of refusing to rest satisfied until a conclusion, the
most tenable in the light of all known data, is reached, and of
reëxamining conclusions whenever new evidence is offered.

Of course it is impossible to use biology to get habits of right
reasoning in students unless we _really allow them to reason_. If we
insist that their work is merely to observe, record, and hold in
memory,--as so many of us do in laboratory work,--they may form
habits of doing these things, but not necessarily any more than this.
Indeed, they may definitely form the habit of doing _only_ these
things, _failing to use the results in forming for themselves any of
the larger conclusions about organisms_. _Seeing_ and _knowing_--without
the ability and habit of _thinking_--is not an uncommon or surprising
result of our conventional laboratory work. There is only one way to
get the habit of right "following through" in reasoning; this is,
_always to do the thing_. When data are observed or are furnished it
is a pedagogical sin on the part of the teacher to allow the student
to stop at that point; and equally so to deduce the conclusion for the
student, or to allow the writer of the textbook to do so, or at any
time to induce the student to accept from another a conclusion which
he himself might reach from the data. We have depended too much on our
science as a mere observational science,--when as a matter of fact its
chief glory is really its opportunity and its incentives to coherent
thinking and careful testing of conclusions.

It is inexact enough, if we are entirely honest, to force us to hold
our conclusions with an open mind ready to admit new evidence. It is
entirely the fault of the teacher if the pupil gets a dogmatic,
too-sure habit of mind as the result of his biological studies. And
yet, as has been said, it is exact enough to enable us to reach just
the same sort of approximations to truth which are possible in our own
lives. The study of biology presents a superb opportunity to prepare
for living by forming the habits of mind and of life that facilitate
right choices in the presence of highly debatable situations. In this
it much surpasses the more "exact" sciences. We may conclude, then, by
positing the belief that the most important mental habit which human
beings can form is that of using and applying consciously the
scientific method as outlined above, not merely to biology alone, but
to all the issues of personal life as well.


D. APPRECIATIONS, ATTITUDES, AND IDEALS AS AIDED BY BIOLOGY

=(4) Attitudes of life perfected by study of the life sciences=

This group of objectives is a bit less tangible, as some think, than
those that have been mentioned; but in my own opinion they are as
important and as educable for the good of the youth by means of
biology as are knowledge, skill, and habit. In a sense these states of
mind arise as by-products of the getting of information, skills, and
habits; in turn they heighten their value. We have spoken above of the
need of skill and habit in making use of the various steps in the
scientific method in reaching conclusions in life. These are
essential, but skill and habit alone are not enough to meet the
necessities in actual life.

In the first place the habit of using the scientific method in the
scientific laboratory does not in itself give assurance that the
person will apply this method in getting at the truth in problems in
his own personal life; and yet this is the essential object of all
this scientific training. In order to get the individual to carry over
this method,--especially where feelings and prejudices are
involved,--we must inculcate in him the scientific ideal and the
scientific attitude until they become general in their influence. To
do this he ought to be induced as a regular part of his early courses
in biology to practice the scientific method upon certain practical
daily decisions exactly with the same rigor that is used in the
biological laboratory. The custom of using this method in animal study
should be transformed into an _attitude of dependence upon it_ as the
only sound method of solving one's life choices. Only by carrying the
method consciously into our life's problems, _as a part of the
exercise in the course in biology_, can we break up the disposition to
regard the method as good merely in the biological laboratory. We must
generate, by practice and precept, the _ideal_ of making universal our
dependence upon our best instrument of determining truth. A personal
habit in the laboratory must become a general ideal for life, if we
hope to substitute the scientific method for prejudice in human
living. There is no department of learning so well capable of doing
this thing as biology.

In the second place, the scientific method standing alone, because of
its very excellence as a method, is liable to produce a kind of
over-sure dogmatism about conclusions, unless it be accompanied by the
scientific attitude or spirit of open-mindedness. The scientific
spirit does not necessarily flow from the scientific method at all,
unless the teacher is careful in his use of it in teaching. We make a
mistake if, in our just enthusiasm to impress the scientific method
upon the student, we fail to teach that it can give, at best, only an
approximation to truth. The scientific attitude which holds even our
best-supported conclusions subject to revision by new evidence is the
normal corrective of the possible dogmatism that comes from
over-confidence in the scientific method as our best means of
discovering truth.

The student at the end of the first year of biology ought to have more
appreciation and enjoyment of plants and animals and their life than
at the beginning,--and increased appreciation of his own relation to
other animals; some attitude of dependence upon the scientific method
of procedure not merely in biology but in his own life; a desire,
however modest, for investigating things for himself; and an ideal of
open-minded, enthusiastic willingness to subject his own conclusions
to renewed testing at all times. All these gains should be reinforced
by later courses.


SPECIAL AIMS OF BIOLOGY IN EDUCATION

=(5) Biology a valuable tool for certain technical pursuits=

So far as I can see, the preparation of students for medicine, for
biological research, or for any advanced application of biology calls
only for the following,--in addition to the further intensification of
the emphasis suggested above:

(_a_) An increased recognition of the subject matter in organizing the
course. In the early courses the subject ought to be subordinated to
the personal elements. If one is to relate himself to the science in a
professional way, the logic of the science comes to be the dominant
objective.

(_b_) Growing out of the above there comes to be a change of emphasis
on the scientific method. The method itself is identical, but the
attitude toward it is different. In the early courses it was guided by
the _teaching_ purpose. We insist upon the method in order that the
student may appreciate how the subject has grown, may realize how all
truth must be reached, and may come habitually to apply the method to
his life problems. In the later courses it becomes the method of
research into the unknown. The student comes more and more to use it
as a tool, in whose use he himself is subordinated to his devotion to
a field of investigation.

(_c_) A greater emphasis upon such special forms of biological
knowledge as will be necessary as tools in the succeeding steps, and
the selection of subject matter with this specifically in view. This
is chiefly a matter of information, making the next steps
intellectually possible.

(_d_) More specific forms of skill, adapted to the work contemplated.
Technic becomes an object in such courses. Morphology, histology,
technic, exact experimentation, repetition, drill, extended
comparative studies, classifition, and the like become more essential
than in the elementary courses. Thoroughness and mastery are
desiderata for the sake both of subject matter and character; and in
very much greater degree than in the general course.


ORGANIZATION OF THE COURSE IN BIOLOGY

=Biology courses not to be standardized rigidly=

The writer does not feel that standardized programs in biology in
colleges are either possible or desirable. What is set down here under
this heading is merely intended as carrying out the principles
outlined above, and not as the only way to provide a suitable program.
The writer assumes that the undergraduates are handled by men of
catholic interests; and that the undergraduate courses are not
distributed and manipulated primarily as feeders for specialized
departments of research in a graduate school. This latter attitude is,
in my opinion, fatal to creditable undergraduate instruction for the
general student or for the future high school teachers of the subject.

=But they should follow a general principle:=

There are three groups or cycles of courses which may properly be
developed by the college or by the undergraduate department of the
university.

_First Group_

=(1) The _first_ group of courses should introduce to life rather than
to later biological courses=

This group contains introductory courses for all students, but
organized particularly with the idea of bringing the rich material of
biology to the service of young people with the aim of making them
effective in life, and not as a first course for making them botanists
or zoölogists.

Course--_Biology 1._ General Biology

This course should introduce the student to the college method of work
in the life sciences; should give him the general knowledge and points
of view outlined above as the chief aims of Biology; should synthesize
what the student already knows about plants and animals under the
general conception of life. Ideally the botanical and zoölogical
portions should be fused and be given by one teacher, rather than
presented as one semester of botany and one of zoölogy. This, however,
is frequently impracticable. In any event the total result should
really be biology, and not a patchwork of botany and zoölogy. Hence
there should be a free crossing of the barriers in use of materials at
all times.

A year of biology is recommended because each pupil ought to have some
work in both fields, and we cannot expect him to take a year in each.

Course--_Biology 2._ History of Biology

This course, dealing with the relation of the development of biology
to human interests and problems, may be given separately, or as a part
of Course 1,--which should otherwise be prerequisite to it. This may
be one of the most humanizing of all the possible courses in biology.

_Second Group_

=(2) A _second_ group should be technical and introductory to
professional uses=

This group furnishes a series of courses providing a thorough
introduction to the principles and methods of botany and zoölogy. They
provide discipline, drill, comparison, mastery of technic as well as
increased appreciation of biology and of the scientific method. They
should prepare for advanced work in biology, and for technical
applications of it to medicine, agriculture, stock breeding, forestry,
etc.

  Course--Botany 1: General
  and Comparative Botany,
  and the Evolution of
  Plants.

  Course--Botany 2: Physiology
  and Ecology of
  Plants.

  Course--Botany 3: Plant
  Cytology, Histology, and
  Embryology.

  Course--Zoölogy 1: General
  and Comparative Zoölogy.

  Course--Zoölogy 2: Animal,
  including Human,
  Physiology.

  Course--Zoölogy 3: Microtechnic,
  Histology,
  Histogenesis, Embryogeny.

  Course--Zoölogy 4: Animal
  Ecology.


This outline for botany and zoölogy follows in the main the most
common arrangement found in the schools of the country. In the
personal judgment of the writer all undergraduate courses should
combine aspects of morphology, physiology, ecology, etc., rather than
be confined strictly to one particular phase; even histology and
embryology can be better taught when their physiological aspects are
emphasized. There is no fundamental reason, however, why there may not
be great latitude of treatment in this group. An alluring feature of
biological teaching is that a teacher who has a vital objective can
begin anywhere in our wonderful subject and get logically to any point
he wishes. These courses may be further subdivided, where facilities
allow.

_Third Group_

=(3) A _third_ group of special, but cultural, courses=

This group contains certain of the more elementary applications of
biology to human welfare. While having practical value in somewhat
specialized vocations, the courses in this group are not proposed as
professional or technical. They are definitely cultural. Every college
might well give one or more of them, in accordance with local
conditions. They ought to be eligible without the courses of the
second group. The order is not significant.

  Biology 3: Economic Entomology;
  Biology 4: Bird Course;
  Biology 5: Tree Course;
  Biology 6: Bacteriology and Fermentation;
  Biology 7: Biology of Sex; Heredity and Eugenics;
  Biology 8: Biology and Education;
  Biology 9: Evolution and Theoretical Problems.


PLACE OF BIOLOGY IN THE COLLEGE CURRICULUM

=The first course ought to be given in such a way that it might fittingly
be required of all freshmen=

The introductory course (Biology 1) can be given in such a way that it
ought to be required of all students during the freshman or sophomore
year, preferably the freshman. In addition to the life value suggested
above, and its introductory value in later biology courses, such a
course would aid the student in psychology, sociology, geology,
ethics, philosophy, education, domestic economy, and physical culture.
Effort should be made to correlate the biological work with these
departments of instruction. The course as now given in most of our
colleges and universities does not possess enough merit to become a
required study. Perhaps all we have a right at present to ask is that
biology shall be one of a group of sciences from which all students
must elect at least one. It is preposterous, in an age of science,
that any college should not require at least a year of science.

Biology 1 should be prerequisite for botany 1 and zoölogy 1, and for
the special biology courses in group three.

Botany 1 and zoölogy 1 should be made prerequisite for the higher
courses in their respective fields; but aside from this almost any
sequence would be allowable.

A major in biology should provide at least for biology 1 and 2, botany
1, zoölogy 1, botany 2 and 3, or zoölogy, 2 and 3. Chemistry is
desirable as a preparation for the second group of courses.


METHODS OF TEACHING AS CONDITIONED BY THE AIMS OUTLINED ABOVE

=Acceptance of biology retarded by poor pedagogy=

Since the laboratory method came into use among biologists, there has
been a disposition, growing out of its very excellences, to make a
fetich of it, to refuse to recognize the necessity of other methods,
to be intolerant of any science courses not employing the laboratory,
and to affect a lofty disdain of any pedagogical discussion of the
question whatsoever. The tone in which all this is done suggests a
boast; but to the discriminating it amounts to a confession! The
result of it has been to retard the development of biology to its
rightful place as one of the most foundational and catholic of all
educational fields. The great variety of aim and of matter not merely
allow, but make imperative, the use of all possible methods; and there
is no method found fruitful in education which does not lend itself to
use in biology. The lecture method, the textbook, the recitation, the
quiz and the inverted quiz, the method of assigned readings and
reports, the method of conference and seminar, the laboratory method,
and the field method are all applicable and needed in every course,
even the most elementary.

=Prostitution of the laboratory=

Our method has thus crystallized about the laboratory as the one
essential thing; but worse, we have used the very shortcomings of the
laboratory as an excuse for extending its sway. The laboratory method
is the method of research in biology. It is our only way to discover
unknown facts. Is it, therefore, the best way to rediscover facts?
This does not necessarily follow, though we have assumed it.
Self-discovered facts are no better nor more true than communicated
facts, and it takes more time to get them. The laboratory is the
slowest possible way of getting facts. We have tried to correct this
quantitative difficulty by extending the laboratory time, by speeding
up, by confining ourselves to static types of facts like those of
structure, and by using detailed laboratory guides for matter and
method, all of which tends to make the laboratory exercise one of
routine and the mere observation and recording of facts or a
verification of the statements in manuals. The correction of these
well-known limitations of the laboratory must come, in my opinion, by
a frank recognition of, and breaking away from, certain of our
misapprehensions about the function of the laboratory. Some of these
are:

=Real purpose and possibility of laboratory work=

1. That the chief facts of a science should be rediscovered by the
student in the laboratory. This is not true. Life is too short. The
great mass of the student's facts must come from the instructor and
from books. The laboratory has as its function in respect to facts,
some very vital things: as, making clear certain classes of facts
which the student cannot visualize without concrete demonstration;
giving vividness to facts in general; gaining of enough facts at first
hand to enable him to hold in solution the great mass of facts which
he must take second hand; to give him skill and accuracy in
observation and in recording discoveries; to give appreciation of the
way in which all the second-hand facts have been reached; to give
taste and enthusiasm for asking questions and confidence and
persistence in finding answers for them. Anything more than this is
waste of time. These results are not gained by mere quantity of work,
but only through constant and intelligent guidance of the student's
attitude in the process of dealing with facts.

2. A feeling that the laboratory or scientific method consists
primarily of observation of facts and their record. In reality these
are three great steps instead of one in this method, which the student
of biology should master: (1) the getting of facts, one device for
doing which is observation; (2) the appraisal and discrimination of
these facts to find which are important; and (3) the drawing of the
conclusions which these facts seem to warrant. There are two practical
corollaries of this truth. One is that the laboratory should be so
administered that the pupil shall appreciate the full scope of the
scientific method, its tremendous historic value to the race, and the
necessity of using _all_ the steps of it faithfully in all future
progress as well as in the sound solution of our individual problems
and the guidance of conduct. The second is that we may make errors in
our scientific conclusions and in life conclusions, through failure to
discriminate among our facts, quite as fatally as through lack of
facts. Indeed, my personal conviction is that more failures are due to
lack of discrimination than to lack of observation. The power to weigh
evidence is at least as important as the power to collect it.

3. A disposition to deny the student the right to reach conclusions in
the laboratory,--or, as we flamboyantly say, to "generalize." Now in
reality the only earthly value of _facts_ is to get _truth_,--that is,
conclusions or generalizations. To deny this privilege is taxation
without representation in respect to personality. The purpose of the
laboratory is to enable students to think, to think accurately and
with purpose, to reach their own conclusions. The getting of facts by
observation is only a minor detail. In reality, the data the student
can get from books are much more reliable than his own observations
are likely to be. Our laboratory training should add gradually to the
accuracy of his observations, but particularly it should enable him to
use his own and other persons' facts conjointly, and with proper
discrimination, in reaching conclusions. To do other than this tends
to abort the reasoning attitude and power, and teaches the pupil to
stand passive in the presence of facts and to divorce facts and
conclusions. The fear is, of course, that the students will get wrong
conclusions and acquire the habit of jumping prematurely to
generalizations. But this situation, while critical, is the very glory
of the method. What we want to do is to ask them continually,--wherever
possible,--_where_ _their facts seem to lead them_. Their conclusions
are liable to be quite wrong, to be sure. But our province as teachers
is to see that the facts ignorance of which made this conclusion wrong
are brought to their attention,--and it is not absolutely material
whether they discover these facts themselves or some one else does.
What we want to compass is practice in reaching conclusions, and the
recognition of the necessity of getting and discriminating facts in
doing so, together with a realization that there are probably many
other facts which we have not discovered that would modify our
conclusions. This keeps the mind open. In other words, the student may
thus be brought to realize the meaning of the "working hypothesis" and
the method of approximation to truth. It makes no difference if one
"jumps to a conclusion," if he jumps in the light of all his known
facts and holds his conclusion _tentatively_. It is much better to
reach wrong conclusions through inadequate facts than to have the mind
come to a standstill in the presence of facts. Instead of being a
threat, reaching a wrong conclusion gives us the opportunity to train
students in holding their conclusions open-mindedly and subject to
revision through new facts. Reaching wrong or partial conclusions and
correcting them may be made even more educative than reaching right
ones at the outset. This would not be true if the conclusion were
being sought for the sake of the science. But it is being sought
solely for the sake of the student. The distinction is important. The
inability to make it is one of the reasons why research men so often
fail as teachers.

All through life the student will be forced to draw conclusions from
two types of facts,--both of which will be incomplete: those he
himself has observed and those which came to him from other observers.
While he must always feel free to try out any and all facts for
himself, it is quite as important in practice that he be able to weigh
other persons' facts discriminatingly. We teach in the laboratory that
the pupil should not take his facts second hand, though we rather
insist that he do so with his conclusions. In reality it is often
much better to take our facts second hand; the stultifying thing is to
take our conclusions so.

=A normal complete mental reaction for every laboratory exercise=

4. The dependence upon outlines and manuals. This is one of the most
deadening devices that we have instituted to economize gray matter and
increase the quantity of laboratory records at the expense of real
initiative and thinking. It is easy for the reader to analyze for
himself the mental reaction, or lack of it, of the student in
following the usual detailed laboratory outline. _Every laboratory
exercise should be an educative situation calling for a complete
mental reaction from the pupil._ In the first place, no exercise
should be used which is not really vital and educative. This assured,
the full mental reaction of the student should be about as follows:

     (1) The cursory survey of the situation.

     (2) The raising by the student of such questions as seem to him
     interesting or worthy of solution. (Here, of course, the teacher
     can by skillful questioning lead the class to raise all necessary
     problems, and increase the student's willingness to attack them.)

     (3) The determination through class conference of the order and
     method of attacking the problems, and the reasons therefor.

     (4) The accumulation and record of discovered facts (sharply
     eliminating all inferences).

     (5) The arrangement (classification) and appraisal
     (discrimination) of the discovered facts.

     (6) Conclusions or inferences from the facts. (These should be
     very sharply and critically examined by teacher and class, to see
     to what extent they are really valid and supported by the facts.)

     (7) Retesting of conclusions by new facts submitted by class, by
     teacher, or from books, with an effort to diminish prejudice as a
     factor in conclusions, and to increase the willingness to
     approach our own conclusions with an open mind.


When laboratory outlines are used at all they should consist merely of
directions, and suggestions, and stimulating questions which will
start the pupils on the main quest,--the raising and solving of their
own problems.


SOME MOOT PROBLEMS[2]

=Ascending or descending order?=

1. Shall we begin with the simple, little-known, lower forms and
follow the ascending order, which is analogous at least to the
evolutionary order? Or shall we begin with the more complex but
better-known forms and go downward? It seems to the writer that the
former method has the advantage in actual interest; in its
suggestiveness of evolution, which is the most important single
impression the student will get from his course; and in the mental
satisfactions that come to pupil and teacher alike from the sense of
progress. However, our material is so rich, so interesting, and so
plastic that it makes little difference where we begin if only we have
a clear idea of what we want to accomplish.

=Morphology versus other interests=

2. What proportion of time should be given to morphology in relation
to other interests? For several reasons morphology has been
overemphasized. It lends itself to the older conception of the
laboratory as a place to observe and record facts. It offers little
temptation to reach conclusions. It calls for little use of gray
matter. This makes it an easy laboratory enterprise. It is what the
grade teachers call "busy" work, and can be multiplied indefinitely.
It can be made to smack of exactness and thoroughness.

Furthermore, morphology _is_ in reality a basal consideration. It is a
legitimate part of an introductory course,--but never for its own sake
nor to prepare for higher courses. But morphology is, however, only
the starting point for the higher mental processes by which different
forms of organisms are compared, for the correlating of structure with
activity, for appreciation of adaptations of structure both to
function and to environmental influence. It thus serves as a
foundation upon which to build conclusions about really vital matters.
Experience teaches that sensitiveness, behavior, and other activities
and powers and processes interest young people more than structure.
The student's views are essentially sound at this point.

The introductory course should, therefore, be a cycle in which the
student passes quite freely back and forth between form, powers,
activities, conditions of life, and the conclusions as to the meanings
of these. It is important only that he shall know with which
consideration he is from time to time engaged.

=Few types or many?=

3. Shall a few forms be studied thoroughly, or many forms be studied
more superficially? There is something of value in each of these
practices. It is possible to over-emphasize the idea of thoroughness
in the introductory courses. Thoroughness is purely a relative
condition anyway, since we cannot really master any type. It seems
poor pedagogy, in an elementary class particularly, to emphasize small
and difficult forms or organs because they demand more painstaking and
skill on the part of the student. My own practice in the elementary
course is to have a very few specially favorable forms studied with a
good deal of care, and a much larger number studied partially,
emphasizing those points which they illustrate very effectively.

=Distribution of time=

4. What proportion of time should be given to the various methods of
work? Manifestly the answer to this question depends upon the local
equipment and upon the character of the course itself. The suggestion
here relates primarily to the general or introductory courses. It
seems to me that a sound division of time would be: two or three hours
per week of class exercises (lectures, recitations, reports, quiz,
etc.) demanding not less than four hours of preparation in text and
library work; and four to six hours a week of "practical" work with
organisms, about two hours of which should take the form of studies in
the field wherever this is possible.

=Weakness of the research man as a teacher for the beginning course=

5. Is the "research" man the best teacher for the introductory
courses? In spite of a good deal of prejudgment on the part of college
and university administrators and of the research biologists
themselves. I am convinced he is not. While there are notable
exceptions, my own observation is that the investigator, whether the
head professor or the "teaching fellow," usually does not have the
mental attitude that makes a successful teacher, at least of
elementary classes,--and for these reasons: he begrudges the time
spent in teaching elementary classes, presents the subject as
primarily preparatory to upper courses, subordinates the human
elements to the scientific elements, and actually exploits the class
in the interest of research. The real teacher's question about an
entering class is this: "How can I best use the materials of our
science to make real men and women out of these people?" The question
of the professional investigator is likely to be: "How many of these
people are fit to become investigators, and how can I most surely find
them and interest them in the science?" This is a perfectly fine and
legitimate question; but it is not an appropriate one until the first
one has been answered. It has been assumed that the answers to the two
questions are identical. This is one of the most vicious assumptions
in higher education today, in my opinion. Furthermore, the
investigator with his interests centering at the margins of the
unknown cannot use the scientific method as a teacher, whose interest
must center in the pupil. The points of view are not merely not
identical; they are incompatible.

=Necessity of differentiation and recognition of the two functions=

Experience indicates the wisdom of having all beginning courses in
biology in colleges and universities given by teachers and not by
investigators, mature or immature. All people who propose to teach
biology in the high schools should have their early courses given from
this human point of view, that they may be the better able to come
back to it after their graduate work, in their efforts to organize
courses for pupils the greater part of whom will never have any but a
life interest in the subject. The problem of presenting the advanced
and special courses is relatively an easy one. The investigator is the
best possible teacher for advanced students in his own special field
if he is endowed with any common sense at all.


TESTS OF EFFECTIVENESS OF TEACHING

As yet we are notably lacking in regard to the measurement of progress
as the result of our teaching. Our usual tests--examination,
recitation, quiz, reports, laboratory notebooks--evaluate in a measure
work done, knowledge or general grasp acquired, and accuracy
developed. We need, however, measurements of skill, of habits, and of
the still more intangible attitudes and appreciations. These may be
gained in part by furnishing really educative situations and observing
the time and character of the student's reaction. Every true teacher
is in reality an experimental psychologist, and must apply directly
the methods of the psychologist.

=More vital _tests_ of results of teaching must be found=

The laboratory and field furnish opportunity for this sort of testing.
The student may be confronted with an unfamiliar organism or situation
and be given a limited time in which to obtain and record his results.
He may be asked to state and enumerate the problems that are suggested
by the situation; outline a method of solving them; discover as large
a body of facts as possible; arrange them in an order that seems to
him logical, with his reasons; and to make whatever inferences seem to
him sound in the light of facts,--supporting his conclusions at every
point. The ability to make such a total mental reaction promptly and
comprehendingly is the best test of any teaching whatsoever. The
important thing is that we shall not ourselves lose sight of the
essential parts of it in our enthusiasm for one portion of it.

In judging attitude and appreciation I think it is possible for
discriminating teachers to obtain the testimony of the pupil himself
in appraisal of his own progress and attitude. This needs to be done
indirectly, to be sure. The student's self-judgment may not be
accurate; but it is not at all impossible to secure a disposition in
students to measure and estimate their own progress in these various
things with some accuracy and fairness of mind. Besides its incidental
value as a test, I know of no realm of biological observation,
discrimination, and conclusion more likely to prove profitable to the
student than this effort to estimate, without prejudice, his own
growth.


THE LITERATURE OF THE SUBJECT

=Scarcity of authoritative pedagogical literature in biology=

For various reasons very little attention has been given to the
pedagogy of college biology by those in the best position to throw
light upon this vital problem. More information as to the attitude of
teachers of the subject is to be derived from college and university
catalogs than elsewhere,--howbeit of a somewhat stereotyped and
standardized kind. Much more has been written relative to the teaching
of biology in the secondary schools. In my opinion the most effective
teaching of biology in America today is being done in the best high
schools by teachers who have been forced to acquire a pedagogical
background that would enable them to reconstruct completely their
presentation of the subject. Most of these people obtained very little
help in this task from their college courses in biology. For these
reasons every college teacher will greatly profit by studying what has
been written for the secondary teachers. _School Science and
Mathematics_ (Chicago) is the best source for current views in this
field. Its files will show no little of the best thought and
investigation that have been devoted to the principles underlying
instruction in biology. Lloyd and Bigelow, in _The Teaching of
Biology_ (Longmans, Green & Co.), have treated the problems of
secondary biology at length. Ganong's _Teaching Botanist_ (The
Macmillan Company) has high value.

The authors of textbooks of biology, botany, and zoölogy issued during
the last ten years have ventured to develop, in their prefaces,
appendices, and elsewhere, their pedagogical points of view. The
writer has personal knowledge that teaching suggestions are still
resented by some college teachers of zoölogy. Illustrations of the
tendency to incorporate pedagogical material in textbooks on
biological subjects can be found in

DODGE, C. W. _Practical Biology._ Harper and Brothers, 1894.

GAGER, C. S. _Fundamentals of Botany._ P. Blakiston's Son & Co., 1916.

GALLOWAY, T. W. _Textbook of Zoölogy._ P. Blakiston's Son & Co., 1915.

KINGSLEY, J. S. _Textbook of Vertebrate Zoölogy._ H. Holt & Co.

PETRUNKEVITCH, A. _Morphology of Invertebrate Types._ The Macmillan
Company, 1916.

                                                 T. W. GALLOWAY
  _Beloit College_


BIBLIOGRAPHY

CRAMER, F. Logical Method in Biology. _Popular Science Monthly_, Vol.
44, page 372. 1894.

FARLOW, W. G. Biological Teaching in Colleges. _Popular Science
Monthly_, Vol. 28, page 581. 1886.

HARVEY, N. A. Pedagogical Content of Zoölogy. _Proceedings National
Education Association_, 1899; page 1106.

HODGE, C. F. Dynamic Biology. _Pedagogical Seminar_, Vols. 11-12.

HUXLEY, J. H. Educational Value of Natural History Science. Essay II,
_Science and Education_. 1854.

RUSK, R. R. _Introduction to Experimental Education._ Longmans, Green
& Co., 1912.

SAUNDERS, S. J. Value of Research in Education. _School Science and
Mathematics_, Vol. II, March, 1902.

SMALLWOOD, W. M. Biology as a Culture Study. _Journal of Pedagogy_,
Vol. 17, page 231.

WELTON, J. _Psychology of Education_ (chapter on "Character"). The
Macmillan Company, 1911.


Footnotes:

[2] These problems relate particularly to the introductory courses.



V

THE TEACHING OF CHEMISTRY


=Preparation of entering students a determining factor=

Some of the students entering classes in chemistry in college have
already had an elementary course in the subject in the high school or
academy, while others have not. Again, some study chemistry in college
merely for the sake of general information and culture, while many
others pursue the subject because the vocation they are planning to
make their life's work requires a more or less extensive knowledge of
chemistry. Thus, all students in the natural sciences and their
applications--as we have them in medicine, engineering, agriculture,
and home economics--as well as those who are training to become
professional chemists, either in the arts and industries or in
teaching, must devote a considerable amount of time and energy to the
study of chemistry. The teacher of college chemistry consequently must
take into consideration the preparation with which the student enters
his classes and also the end which is to be attained by the pursuit of
the subject in the case of the various groups of students mentioned.

In the larger high schools courses in chemistry are now quite
generally offered, but this is not yet true of the smaller schools. In
some colleges those who have had high school chemistry are at once
placed into advanced work without taking the usual basal course in
general chemistry which is so arranged that students can enter it who
have had no previous knowledge of the subject. In other words, in some
cases the college builds directly upon the high school course in
chemistry. As a rule, however, this does not prove very successful,
for the high school course in chemistry is not primarily designed as a
course upon which advanced college chemistry can be founded. This is
as it should be, for after all, while the high school prepares
students for college, its chief purpose is to act as a finishing
school for those larger numbers of students who never go to college.
The high school course in chemistry is consequently properly designed
to give certain important chemical facts and point out their more
immediate applications in the ordinary walks of life, as far as this
can properly be done in the allotted time with a student of high
school age and maturity. The result is consequently that while such
work can very well be accepted toward satisfying college entrance
requirements, it is only rarely sufficient as a basis for advanced
college courses in the subject. As a rule it is best to ask all
students to take the basal course in general chemistry offered in
college, arranging somewhat more advanced experiments in the
laboratory wherever necessary for those who have had chemistry in
preparatory schools. This has become the writer's practice after
careful trial of other expedients. The scheme has on the whole worked
out fairly well, for it is sufficiently elastic to meet the needs of
the individual students, who naturally come with preparation that is
quite varied. Almost invariably students who, on account of their
course in high school chemistry, are excused from the general basal
course in college chemistry have been handicapped forever afterward in
their advanced work in the subject.

=Organization of first-year course--General chemistry=

The first year's work in college chemistry consists of general
chemistry. It is basal for all work that is to follow, and yet at the
same time it is a finished course, giving a well-rounded survey of the
subject to all who do not care to pursue it further. This basal course
is commonly given in the freshman year, though sometimes it is
deferred to the sophomore year. Its content is now fairly uniform in
different colleges, the first semester being commonly devoted to
general fundamental considerations and the chemistry of the
non-metals, while the metals receive attention in the second semester,
the elements of qualitative analysis being in some cases taught in
connection with the chemistry of the metals.

The work is almost universally conducted by means of lectures,
laboratory work, and recitations. The lectures have the purpose to
unfold the subject, give general orientation as to the most important
fundamental topics and points of view, and furnish impetus, guidance,
and inspiration for laboratory study and reading. To this end the
lectures should be illustrated by means of carefully chosen and
well-prepared experiments. These serve not only to illustrate typical
chemical processes, and fundamental laws, but they also stimulate
interest and teach the student many valuable points of manipulation,
for it is well-nigh impossible to watch an expert manipulator without
absorbing valuable hints on the building up, arranging, and handling
of apparatus. In the lectures the material should be presented slowly,
carefully, and clearly, so that it may readily be followed by the
student. Facts should always be placed in the foreground, and they
should be made the basis of the generalization we call laws, and then
the latter naturally lead to theoretical conceptions. It is a great
mistake to begin with the atomic theory practically the first day and
try to bolster up that theory with facts later on as concrete cases of
chemical action are studied. On the other hand, it is also quite
unwise to defer the introduction of theoretical conceptions too long,
for the atomic theory is a great aid in making rapid progress in the
study of chemistry. At least two or three weeks are well spent in
studying fundamental chemical reactions as facts quite independent of
any theories whatsoever, in order that the student may thoroughly
appreciate the nature of chemical change and become familiar with
enough characteristic and typical cases of chemical action so that the
general laws of chemical combination by weight and by volume may be
logically deduced and the atomic and molecular theories presented as
based upon those laws.

Up to this stage the reactions should be written out in words and all
formulation should be avoided, so that the student will not get the
idea that "chemistry is the science of signs and symbols," or that
"chemistry is a hypothetical science," but that he will feel that
chemistry deals with certain very definite, characteristic, and
fundamental changes of matter in which new substances are formed, and
that these processes always go on in accordance with fixed and
invariable laws, though they are influenced by conditions of
temperature, pressure, light, electricity, and the presence of other
substances in larger or smaller amounts. The theory and formulation
when properly introduced should be an aid to the student, leading him
to see that the expression of chemical facts is simplified thereby.
Thus he will never make the error of regarding the symbol as the
fundamental thing, but he will from the very outset look upon it
simply as a useful form of shorthand expression, as it were, which is
also a great aid in chemical thinking. Facts and theories should ever
be kept distinct and separate in the student's mind, if he is to make
real progress in the science.

A thoroughgoing, logical presentation of the subject, leading the
student slowly and with a sense of perfect comprehension into the
deeper and more difficult phases, should constitute one of the prime
features of the work of the first year. Interest should constantly be
stimulated by references to the historical development of the subject,
to the practical applications in the arts and industries, to
sanitation and the treatment of disease, to the providing of proper
food, clothing, fuel, and shelter, to the problems of transportation
and communication, to the chemical changes that are constantly going
on in the atmosphere, the waters, and the crust of the earth as well
as in all living beings. Nevertheless, all the time the _science_
should be taught as the backbone of the entire course. The allusions
to history and the manifold applications to daily life are indeed very
important, but they must never obscure the science itself, for only
thus can a thorough comprehension of chemistry be imparted and the
benefits of the mental drill and culture be vouchsafed to the student.

=Methods of teaching--The Lecture method=

For the freshman and sophomore, two lectures per week are sufficient
for this type of instruction. In these exercises the student should
give his undivided attention to what is presented by the lecturer. The
taking of notes is to be discouraged rather than encouraged, for it
results in dividing the attention between what is presented and the
mechanical work of writing. To take the place of the usual lecture
notes, students of this grade had better be provided with a suitable
text, definite chapters in which are assigned for reading in
connection with each lecture. The text thus serves for purposes of
review, and also as a means for inculcating additional details which
cannot to advantage be presented in a lecture, but are best studied at
home by perusing a book, the contents of which have been illuminated
by the experimental demonstrations, the explanations on the
blackboard, the charts, lantern slides, and above all the living
development and presentation of the subject by the lecturer. The
lectures should in no case be conducted primarily as an exercise in
dictation and note taking. If the lectures do not give general
orientation, illumination, and inspiration for further study in
laboratory and library, they are an absolute failure and had better be
omitted entirely. On the other hand, when properly conducted the
lectures are the very life of the course.

=The laboratory work=

The laboratory work should be well correlated with the lectures,
especially during the first year. The experiments to be performed by
the student should be carefully chosen and should not be a mere
repetition of the lecture demonstrations. The laboratory experiments
should be both qualitative and quantitative in character. They should
on the one hand illustrate the peculiar properties of the substances
studied and the typical concomitant changes of chemical action, but on
the other hand a sufficient number of quantitative exercises in the
laboratory should be introduced to bring home to the student the laws
of combining weights and volumes, thus giving him the idea that
chemistry is exact and that quantitative relations always obtain when
chemical action takes place. At the same time the quantitative
exercises lay the basis for the proper comprehension of the laws of
combining weights and volumes and the atomic and molecular theories.
At least three periods of two consecutive hours each should be spent
in the laboratory per week, and the laboratory exercises should be
made so interesting and instructive that the student will feel
inclined to work in the laboratory at odd times in addition if his
program of other studies permits. The laboratory should at all times
be, as its name implies, a place where work is done. Order and
neatness should always prevail. Apparatus should be kept neat and
clean, and in no case should slovenly habits of setting up apparatus
be tolerated. The early introduction of a certain amount of
quantitative experimentation in the course makes for habits of order
and neatness in experimentation and guards against bringing up
"sloppy" chemists.

=The student's laboratory record=

The laboratory notebook should be a neat and accurate record of the
work in the laboratory. To this end the entries in the notebook should
be made in the laboratory at the time when the experiment is actually
being performed. The writing of data on loose scratch paper and then
finally writing up the notebook later at home from such sheets is not
to be recommended, for while thus the final appearance of the notebook
may be improved, it is no longer a first-hand record such as every
scientist makes, but rather a transcribed one. The student, in making
up such a transcription, is only too apt to draw upon his inner
consciousness to make the book appear better; indeed, when he has
neglected to transcribe his notes for several days, he is bound to
produce anything but a true and accurate record, to say nothing about
being put to the temptation to "fake" results which he has either not
at all obtained in the laboratory, or has recorded so imperfectly on
the scratch paper that he can no longer interpret his record properly.
The only true way is to have the notes made directly in the
permanently bound notebook at the time when the experiment is actually
in progress. The student ought not to take the laboratory notebook
home at all without the instructor's knowledge and permission. Each
experiment should be entered in the notebook in a brief, businesslike
manner. Long-winded, superfluous discussions should be avoided. As a
rule, drawings of apparatus in the notes are unnecessary, it being
sufficient to indicate that the apparatus was set up according to
Figure so-and-so in the laboratory manual or according to the
directions given on page so-and-so. The student should be made to feel
that the laboratory is the place where careful, purposeful
experimentation is to be done, that this is the main object of the
laboratory work, and that the notebook is merely a reliable record of
what has been accomplished. To this end the data in the notebook
should be complete, yet brief and to the point, so that what has been
done can be looked up again and that the instructor may know that the
experiment has been performed properly, that its purpose was
understood by the student, and that he has made correct observations
and drawn logical conclusions therefrom. While in each case the notes
should indicate the purpose of the experiment, what has actually been
done and observed, and the final conclusions, it is on the whole best
not to have a general cut-and-dried formula according to which each
and every experiment is to be recorded. It is better to encourage a
certain degree of individuality in this matter on the part of each
student. Notebooks should be corrected by the teacher every week, and
the student should be asked to correct all errors which the teacher
has indicated. A businesslike atmosphere should prevail in the
laboratory at all times, and this should be reflected in the
notebooks. Anything that savors of the pedantic is to be strictly
avoided. Small blackboards should be conveniently placed in the
laboratory so that the instructor may use them in explaining any
points that may arise. Usually the same question arises with several
members of the class, and a few moments of explanation before the
blackboard enable the instructor to clear up the points raised. This
not only saves the instructor's time, but it also stimulates interest
in the laboratory when explanations are thus given to small groups
just when the question is hot.

It is, of course, assumed that the necessary amount of apparatus,
chemicals, and other supplies is available, and that the laboratory
desks, proper ventilation of the rooms, and safeguards in the case of
all experiments fraught with danger have received the necessary
painstaking attention on the part of the instructor, who must never
for a moment relax in looking after these matters, which it is not the
purpose to discuss here. At all times the student should work
intelligently and be fully aware of any dangers that are inherent in
what he is doing. It need hardly be said that a beginner should not be
set at experiments that are specially dangerous. Having been given
proper directions, the student should be taught to go ahead with
confidence, for working in constant trepidation that an accident may
occur often creates a nervous state that brings about the accident.
Too much emphasis cannot be laid upon proper, definite laboratory
instructions, especially as to kinds and amounts of materials to be
used. Such directions as "take a _little_ phosphorus," for example,
should be strictly avoided, for the direction as to amount is
absolutely indefinite and may in the case where phosphorus or any
other dangerous substance is used lead to dire accidents. The student
should be given proper and very definite directions, and then he
should be taught to follow these absolutely and not use more of the
materials than is specified, as the beginner is so apt to do, thus
often wasting his time and the reagents as well. Economy and the
correct use of all laboratory supplies should be inculcated indirectly
all the time. A fixed set of printed rules for the laboratory is
generally neither necessary nor desirable when students are properly
directed to work intelligently as they go, and good directions are
given in the laboratory manual. Thus a spirit of doing intelligently
what is right and proper, guarding against accidents, economizing in
time and materials of all kinds will soon become dominant in the
laboratory and will greatly add to the efficiency of the workers.
Minor accidents are almost bound to occur at times in spite of all
precautions, and the instructor should be ready to cope with these
promptly by means of a properly supplied first-aid kit.

=Recitations and quizzes=

For students of the first year quizzes or recitations should be held
at least twice a week. In these exercises the ground covered in the
lectures and laboratory work should be carefully and systematically
reviewed. The quiz classes should not be too large. Twenty-five
students is the upper limit for a quiz section. The laboratory
sections too should not be larger than this, and it is highly
desirable that the same instructor conduct both the recitation and the
immediate laboratory supervision of the student. Lecture classes can,
of course, be very much larger in number. In most colleges the
attendance upon classes in chemistry is so large that it is not
possible for the professor to deliver the lectures and also personally
conduct all of the laboratory work and recitations. It is consequently
necessary to divide the class up into small sections for laboratory
and quiz purposes. It is highly desirable that the student become well
acquainted with his individual instructor in laboratory and quiz work,
and therefore it would be unfortunate to have one instructor in the
laboratory and still another instructor in the quiz. It might be
argued that it is a good thing to have the student become acquainted
with a number of instructors, but in the writer's experience such
practice results to the disadvantage of the student, and is
consequently not to be recommended.

In the recitations the student is to be encouraged to do the talking.
He is to be given an opportunity to ask questions as well as to answer
the queries put by the teacher. Short written exercises of about ten
minutes' duration can be given to advantage in each of these
recitations. In this way the entire class writes upon a well-chosen
question or solves a numerical chemical problem and thus a great deal
of time is saved. The quiz room should be well provided with
blackboards which may be used to great advantage in the writing of
equations and the solution of chemical problems just as in a class in
mathematics. The textbook, from which readings are assigned to the
student in connection with the lectures, should contain questions
which recapitulate the contents of each chapter. When such questions
are not contained in the book, they ought to be provided by the
teacher on printed or mimeographed sheets. When properly conducted,
the recitation aids greatly in clarifying, arranging and fixing the
important points of the course in the mind of the student. Young
instructors are apt to make the mistake of doing too much talking in
the quiz, instead of encouraging the student to express his views. In
these days, when foreign languages and mathematics are more or less on
the wane in colleges, the proper study of chemistry, particularly in
the well-conducted quiz, will go far toward supplying the mental drill
which the older subjects have always afforded.

=Summary of first-year course=

If the work of the first year has been properly conducted, it will
have given the student a general view of the whole field of chemistry,
together with a sufficient amount of detail so securely anchored in
careful laboratory work and practical experience as to form a basis
for either more advanced work in chemical lines or in the pursuance of
the vocations already mentioned in which a knowledge of chemistry is
basal. It is hardly necessary to add that if well taught, the student
will at the end of such a course have a desire for more chemistry.

=Organization of second-year course=

The work of the second year of chemistry in college generally consists
of quantitative analysis, though the more intensive study of the
compounds of carbon, known as organic chemistry, is also frequently
taken up at this time, and there is much to be said in favor of such
practice.

=Content of the course in quantitative analysis=

In the quantitative analysis, habits of neatness and accuracy must be
insisted upon. It is well to give the general orientation and
directions by means of lectures. One or two such exercises per week
will suffice. There should also be recitations. When two lectures per
week are given, it will suffice to review the work with the student in
connection with such lectures, provided the class is not too large for
quiz purposes. Intelligent work should characterize a course in
quantitative analysis. To this end the student should be taught how to
take proper representative samples of the material to be analyzed. He
should then be taught how to weigh or measure out that sample with
proper care. The manipulations of the analytical process should be
carried out so that each step is properly understood and its relations
to the general laws of chemistry are constantly before the mind. In
carrying out the process, the various sources of error must be
thoroughly appreciated and guarded against. The final weighing or
measuring of the form in which the ingredient sought is estimated
should again be carried out with care, and in the calculation of the
percentage content due regard should be had for the limits of error of
experimentation throughout the entire analytical process. The student
feels that a large number of the exercises in quantitative analysis
are virtually cases of making chemical preparations of the highest
possible purity, thus connecting his previous chemical experience with
his quantitative work. The course in quantitative analysis should
cover the determination of the more important basic and acid radicals,
and should consist of both gravimetric and volumetric exercises.

The choice of the exercises is of great importance. It may vary, and
should vary considerably in different cases. Thus a student in
agriculture is naturally interested in the methods of estimating lime,
phosphorus, nitrogen, potash, silica, sulphur, etc., whereas a student
in engineering would be more interested in work with the heavy metals
and the ingredients which the commercial samples of such metals are
apt to contain. Thus, analytical work on solder, bearing metal, iron
and steel, cement, etc., should be introduced as soon as the student
in engineering is ready for it. It is quite possible to inculcate the
principles of quantitative analysis by selecting exercises in which
the individual student is interested, though, to be sure, certain
fundamental things would naturally have to be taken by all students,
whatever be the line for which they are training. A few exercises in
gas analysis and also water analysis should be given in every good
course in quantitative analysis that occupies an entire year. Careful
attention should be given to the notebook in the quantitative work,
and the student should also be made to feel that in modern
quantitative analysis not only balances and burettes are to serve as
the measuring instruments, but that the polariscope and the
refractometer also are very important, and that at times still other
physical instruments like the spectroscope, the electrometer, and the
viscometer may prove very useful indeed.

The quantitative analysis offers a splendid opportunity for bringing
home to the student what he has learned in the work of the first year,
showing him one phase of the application of that knowledge and making
him feel, as it were, the quantitative side of science. This latter
view can be imparted only to a limited degree in the first year's
work, but the quantitative course offers an unusual opportunity for
giving the student an application of the fundamental quantitative laws
which govern all chemical processes. It is not possible to analyze
very many substances during any college course in quantitative
analysis. The wise teacher will choose the substances to be analyzed
so as to keep up the interest of the student and yet at the same time
give him examples of all the fundamental cases that are commonly met
in the practice of analytical work. A careful, painstaking,
intelligent worker should be the result of the course in quantitative
analysis. Toward the end of the course, too, a certain amount of speed
should be insisted upon. The student should be taught to carry on
several processes at the same time, but care should be taken not to
overdo this.

=The course in organic chemistry=

In the course in organic chemistry, lectures, laboratory work, and
recitations, arranged very much as to time as in the first year, will
be found advantageous. If the intensive work in organic chemistry is
postponed to the third year in college, there are certain advantages.
For example, the student is more mature and has had drill and
experience in the somewhat simpler processes commonly taught in
general and analytical chemistry. On the other hand, the postponing of
organic chemistry to the third year has the disadvantage that the
student goes through his basal training in quantitative analysis
without the help of that larger horizon which can come to him only
through the study of the methods of organic chemistry. The general
work of the first year, to be sure, if well done compensates in part
for what is lost by postponing organic chemistry till the third year,
but it can never entirely remove the loss to the student. Teachers
will differ as to whether the time-honored division of organic
chemistry into the aliphatic and aromatic series should be maintained
pedagogically, but they will doubtless all agree that the methods of
working out the structure of the chemical compound are peculiarly
characteristic of the study of the compounds of carbon, and these
methods must consequently constitute an important point to be
inculcated in organic chemistry. The derivation of the various types
of organic compounds from the fundamental hydrocarbons as well as from
one another, and the characteristic reactions of each of these
fundamental forms which lead to their identification and also often
serve as a means of their purification, should naturally be taught in
a thoroughgoing manner. The numerous practical applications which the
teacher of organic chemistry has at his command will always serve to
make this subject one of the deepest interest, if not the most
fascinating portion of the entire subject of chemistry. No student
should leave the course in organic chemistry without feeling the
beautiful unity and logical relationship which obtains in the case of
the compounds of carbon, the experimental study of which has cast so
much light upon the chemical processes in living plants and animals,
processes upon which life itself depends. The analysis of organic
compounds is probably best taught in connection with the course in
organic chemistry. It is here that the student is introduced to the
use of the combustion furnace and the method of working out the
empirical formulæ of the compounds which he has carefully prepared and
purified. The laboratory practice in organic chemistry generally
requires the use of larger pieces of apparatus. Some of the
experiments also are connected with peculiar dangers of their own.
These facts require that the student should not approach the course
without sufficient preliminary training. Furthermore, the teacher
needs to exercise special care in supervising the laboratory work so
as to guard the student against serious accidents.

The historical development of organic chemistry is especially
interesting, and allusions to the history of the important discoveries
and developments of ideas in organic chemistry should be used to
stimulate interest and so enhance the value of the work of the
student. The practical side of organic chemistry should never be lost
sight of for a moment, and under no condition should the course be
allowed to deteriorate into one of mere picturing of structural
formulæ on the blackboard. All chemical formulas are merely compact
forms of expression of what we know about chemical compounds. There
are, no doubt, many facts about chemical compounds which their
accepted formulas do not express at all, and the wise teacher should
lead the student to see this. There is peculiar danger in the course
in organic chemistry that the pupil become a mere formula worshiper,
and this must carefully be guarded against.

The applications of organic chemistry to the arts and industries, but
especially to biochemistry, will no doubt interest many members of the
class of a course in organic chemistry if the subject is properly
taught. This will be particularly the case if the teacher always holds
before the mind of the pupil the actual realities in the laboratory
and in nature, using formulation merely as the expression of our
knowledge and not as an end in itself.

=Place of physical chemistry in the college curriculum=

Physical chemistry, commonly regarded as the youngest and by its
adherents the most important and all-pervading branch of chemistry, is
presented very early in the college course by some teachers, and
postponed to the junior and even the senior year by others. Just as a
certain amount of organic chemistry should be taught in the first
year, so a few of the most fundamental principles of physical
chemistry must also find a place in the basal work of the beginner.
However, in the first year's work in chemistry so many phases of the
subject must needs be presented in order to give a good general view,
that many details in either organic, analytical, or physical chemistry
must necessarily be omitted. What is to be taught in that important
basal year must, therefore, be selected with extreme care. Moreover,
so far as physical chemistry is concerned, it is in a way chemical
philosophy or general chemistry in the broadest sense of the word, and
consequently requires for its successful pursuit not only a basal
course, but also proper knowledge of analytical and organic chemistry,
as well as a grounding in physics, crystallography, and mathematics.
At the same time a certain amount of biological study is highly
desirable. A good course in physical chemistry postulates lectures,
laboratory work, and recitations. In general, these should be arranged
much like those in the basal course and the course in organic
chemistry. If anything, more time should be put upon the lectures and
recitations; certainly more time should be devoted to exercises of
this kind than in the course in quantitative analysis, which is best
taught in the laboratory. At the same time it would be a mistake to
teach physical chemistry without laboratory practice. Indeed,
laboratory practice is the very life of physical chemistry, and the
more of such work we can have, the better. However, since physical
chemistry, as already stated, delves into the philosophical field,
discussions in the lecture hall and classroom become of peculiar
importance.

=Courses in applied chemistry=

Many colleges now give additional courses in chemical technology.
These would naturally come after the student has had a sufficient
foundation in general chemistry, chemical analysis, and organic and
physical chemistry. As a rule such applied courses ought not to be
given until the junior or senior year. It is a great mistake to
introduce such courses earlier, for the student cannot do the work in
an intelligent manner.

=Enthusiastic teaching a vital factor=

In all the courses in chemistry, interest and enthusiasm are of vital
importance. These can be instilled only by the teacher himself, and no
amount of laying out courses on paper and giving directions, however
valuable they may be, can possibly take the place of an able, devoted,
enthusiastic teacher. Chemistry deals with things, and hence is always
best taught in the laboratory. The classroom and the library should
create interest and enthusiasm for further laboratory work, and in
turn the laboratory work should yield results that will finally
manifest themselves in the form of good written reports.

=The teacher must continue his researches=

Original work should always be carried on by the college teacher. If
he fails in this, his teaching will soon be dead. There will always be
some bright students who can help him in his research work. These
should be led on and developed along lines of original thought. From
this source there will always spring live workers in the arts and
industries as well as in academic lines. Lack of facilities and time
is often pleaded by the college teacher as an excuse for not doing
original work. There is no doubt that such facilities are often very
meager. Nevertheless, the enthusiastic teacher is bound to find the
time and also the means for doing some original work. A great deal
cannot be expected of him as a rule because of his pedagogical duties,
but a certain amount of productive work is absolutely essential to any
live college teacher.

=Future of chemistry in the college curriculum=

The importance of chemistry in daily life and in the industries has
been increasing and is bound to continue to increase. For this reason
the subject is destined to take a more important place in the college
curriculum. If well taught, college chemistry will not only widen the
horizon of the student, but it will also afford him both manual
training and mental drill and culture of the highest order.

                                               LOUIS KAHLENBERG
  _University of Wisconsin_



VI

THE TEACHING OF PHYSICS


The need of giving to physics a prominent place in the college
curriculum of the twentieth century is quite universally admitted. If,
as an eminent medical authority maintains, no man can be said to be
educated who has not the knowledge of trigonometry, how much more true
is this statement with reference to physics? The five human senses are
not more varied in scope than are the five great domains of this
science. In the study of heat, sound, and light we may strive merely
to understand the nature of the external stimuli that come to us
through touch, hearing and sight; but in mechanics, where we examine
critically the simplest ideas of motion and inertia, we acquire the
method of analysis which when applied to the mysteries of molecular
physics and electricity carries us along avenues that lead to the most
profound secrets of nature. Utilitarian aspects dwindle in our
perspective as we face the problem of the structure, origin, and
evolution of matter--as we question the independence of space and
time. Modern physics possesses philosophic stature of heroic size.

=Utilitarian value of the study Of physics=

But with regard to everyday occurrences a study of physics is
necessary. It is trite to mention the development in recent years of
those mechanical and electrical arts that have made modern
civilization. The submarine, vitalized by storage battery and Diesel
engine, the torpedo with its gyroscopic pilot and pneumatic motors,
the wireless transmission of speech over seas and continents--these
things no longer excite wonder nor claim attention as we scan the
morning paper; yet how many understand their mechanism or appreciate
the spirit which has given them to the world?

=Disciplinary value of the study=

If culture means the subjective transformation of information into a
philosophy of life, can culture be complete unless it has included in
its reflections the marvelously simple yet intricate interrelations
of natural phenomena? The value of this intricate simplicity as a
mental discipline is equaled perhaps only in the finely drawn
distinctions of philosophy and in the painstaking statements of
limitations and the rapid generalizations of pure mathematics; and let
us not forget the value of discipline, outgrown and unheeded though it
be in the acquisitive life of the present age.

=Relation of physics to philosophy and the exact sciences=

The professional student, continually increasing in numbers in our
colleges, either of science or in certain branches of law, finds a
broad familiarity with the latest points of view of the physicist not
only helpful but often indispensable. Chemistry can find with
difficulty any artificial basis for a boundary of its domain from that
of physics. Certainly no real one exists. The biologist is heard
asking about the latest idea in atomic evolution and the electrical
theories of matter, hoping to find in these illuminating points of
view, he tells us, some analogy to his almost hopelessly complex
problems of life and heredity. Even those medical men whose interest
is entirely commercial appreciate the convenience of the X-ray and the
importance of correctly interpreting the pathological effects of the
rays of radio-activity and ultra-violet light. One finds a great
geologist in collaboration with his distinguished colleague in
physics, and from the latter comes a contribution on the rigidity of
the earth. Astronomy answers nowadays to the name of astrophysics, and
progressive observatories recognize in the laboratory a tool as
essential as the telescope. In a word, the professional student of
science not only finds that the subject matter of physics has many
fundamental points of contact with his own chosen field, but also
recognizes that the less complex nature of its material allows the
method of study to stand out in bolder relief. Training in the method
and a passion for the method are vital to a successful and an ardent
career.

=Should the teaching of college physics change its aim for different
classes of students?=

In the teaching of physics, then, the aim might at first sight appear
to be quite varied, differing with different classes of students. A
careful analysis of the situation, however, will show, we think, that
this conclusion can with difficulty be justified: that it is necessary
to conduct college instruction in a fashion dictated almost not at all
by the subsequent aims of the students concerned. In the more
elementary work, certainly, adherence to this idea is of great
importance. The character, design, and purpose of an edifice do not
appear in the foundations except that they are massive if the
structure is to be great.

Not infrequently this seems an unnecessary hardship to a professional
student anxious to get into the work of his chosen field. If such is
the case, let him question perhaps whether any study of physics should
be attempted, as this query may have different answers for different
individuals. But if he is to study it at all, there is but one place
where the analysis of physical phenomena can begin, and that is with
fundamentals--space, time, motion, and inertia. How can one who is
ignorant of the existence and characteristics of rotational inertia
understand a galvanometer? How can waves be discussed unless in terms
of period, amplitude, frequency, and the like, that find definition in
simple harmonic motion? How does one visualize the mechanism of a gas,
unless by means of such ideas as momentum interchange, energy
conservation, and forces of attraction?

Let us emphasize here, lest we be misunderstood, that we are
considering collegiate courses. We do not doubt that descriptive
physics may be given after one fashion to farmers, quite differently
to engineers, and from still a third point of view to medical
students. Unfortunately some collegiate courses never get beyond the
high school method. Our aim is not to discuss descriptive courses, but
those that approach the subject with the spirit of critical analysis,
for these alone do we deem worthy of a place in the college
curriculum.

=The course in college physics differentiated from the high school course=

The problem of the descriptive course is the problem of the high
school. Because of failure there, too often we see at many a
university courses in subfreshman physics. These are made necessary
where entrance requirements do not demand this subject and where
subsequent interest along related lines develops among the students a
tardy necessity of getting it. From the point of view of the
collegiate course it often appears as if the subfreshman course could
be raised to academic rank. This is because familiarity with the
material must precede an analysis of it. Credit for high school
physics on the records of the entrance examiner, unless this credit is
based on entrance examination, is often found to stand for very
little. Consequently the almost continual demand for the high school
work under the direct supervision of a collegiate faculty. The number
of students who should go into this course instead of the college
course is increasing at the present time in the immediate locality of
the writer.

As contributory testimony here, witness the number of colleges that do
not take cognizance at all of high school preparation and admit to the
same college classes those who have never had preparatory physics with
those who have had it. We are told the difference between the two
groups is insignificant. Perhaps it is. If so, this fact reflects as
much on the college as on the high school. If we are looking for a
solution of our problem in this direction, let us be undeceived; we
are looking backwards, not forward.

=Need of adequate high school preparation in physics=

No one will affirm that to a class of whose numbers some have never
had high school physics a course that is really analytical can be
given. Wherever a rigorous analytic course is given those who have
been well trained in descriptive physics do well in it in general. Let
us not beg the question by giving such physics in a college that does
not require high school preparation. The college curriculum is full
enough as it is without duplication of high school work, and any
college physics course that is a first course is essentially a high
school course.

Let us rather put the responsibility squarely where it lies. The high
school will respond if the urgency is made clear. Witness some of them
in our cities already attempting the junior college idea, an idea that
has not been unsuccessful in some of our private schools. If it is
made clear that a thoroughgoing course in descriptive physics is a
paramount necessity in college work and that no effort will be spared
on the part of the university to insure this quality, the men will be
found and the proper courses given.

=Preparatory work in mathematics essential for success in college physics=

We favor a comprehensive examination plan in all cases where the
quality of the high school work is either unknown or open to question.

Familiarity, likewise, with the most elementary uses of mathematics
should be insured. It would be highly desirable that a course of
collegiate grade in trigonometry should immediately precede the
physics. This is not because the details of trigonometry are all
needed in physics. In fact, a few who have never had trigonometry make
a conspicuous success in physics. These, however, are ones who have a
natural facility in analysis. To keep them out because of failure to
have had a prerequisite course in trigonometry often works an
unnecessary hardship. We would argue, therefore, for a formal
prerequisite on this subject, reserving for certain students
exemption, which should be determined in all cases, if not by the
instructor himself, at least by his coöperation with some advisory
administrative officer.

=Need of testing each student's preparation=

Nor is it sufficient with regard to the mathematical preparation or
the knowledge of high school physics in either case to go exclusively
by the official credit record of the student. It is our firm
conviction from several years' experience where widely different aims
in the student body are represented that above and beyond all formal
records attention to the individual case is of prime importance. The
opening week of the course should be so conducted that those who are
obviously unequipped can be located and directed elsewhere into the
proper work. How this may best be accomplished can be determined only
by the circumstances in the individual school, we imagine. Daily tests
covering the simplest descriptive information that should be retained
from high school physics and requiring the intelligent use of
arithmetic, elementary algebra, and geometry will reveal amazing
incapacity in these things. Tuttle, in his little book entitled _An
Introduction to Laboratory Physics_ (Jefferson Laboratory of Physics,
Philadelphia, 1915), gives on pages 15-16 an excellent list of
questions of this sort. Any one with teaching experience in the
subject whatever can make up an equally good one suited for his
special needs and temperament. It should not be assumed that all who
fail in such tests should be dropped. Some undoubtedly should be sent
back to high school work or its equivalent; others may need double the
required work in mathematics to overcome their unreadiness in its use.
Personal contacts will show that some are drifting into a scientific
course who have no aptitude for it and who will be doomed to
disappointment should they continue. In a word, then, we are convinced
that the more carefully one plans the work of the first week or so the
more smoothly does the work of the rest of the year follow. The number
of failures may be reduced to a few per cent without in any way
relaxing the standard of the course.

=Methods of teaching college physics=

With regard to the organization of the college courses in physics
there seems to us to be at least one method that leads to a
considerable degree of success. This is not the lecture method of
instruction; neither is it a wholly unmitigated laboratory method.

=Lecture method vs. laboratory method=

To kindle inspiration and enthusiasm nothing can equal the contact in
lectures with others, preferably leaders in their profession, but at
least men who possess one of these qualities. Such contacts need not
be frequent; indeed, they should not be. The speaker is apt to make
more effort, the student to be more responsive, if such occasions are
relatively rare. Even thus, although real information is imparted at
such a time, it is seldom acquired. However, perspective is furnished,
interest stimulated, and the occasion enjoyed.

=Limitations of exclusive use of each method=

For the real acquisition of scientific information, the great method
is the working out of a laboratory exercise and pertinent problems,
with informal guidance in the atmosphere of active study and
discussion engendered among a small group,--the laboratory method.
Taken alone, it is apt to become mechanical and uninteresting and the
outlook to be obscured by details. Lectures, especially demonstration
lectures, are needed to vitalize and inspire. Moreover, many of the
most vivid illustrations of physical principles that occur on every
hand to focus the popular attention are never met with in the college
course because they are unsuited for inexperienced hands or not
readily amenable to quantitative experimentation. The more informally
such demonstrations can be conducted, the more enthusiastically they
are received.

=Aims of the laboratory method=

With regard to laboratory work, accuracy in moderate degree is
important, but too great insistence upon it is apt to overshadow the
higher aim; namely, that of the analysis of the phenomena themselves.
A determination of the pressure coefficient of a gas to half a per
cent, accompanied by a clear visualization of the mechanism by which a
gas exerts a pressure and a usable identification of temperature with
kinetic agitation, would seem preferable to an experimental error of a
tenth per cent which may be exacted which is unaccompanied by these
inspiring and rather modern points of view. Especially in electricity
is a familiarity with the essentials of the modern theories important.
Here supplementary lectures are of great necessity, for no textbook
keeps pace with progress in this tremendously important field. Problem
solving with class discussion is absolutely essential, and should
occupy at least one third of the entire time. In no other way can one
be convinced that the student is doing anything more than committing
to memory, or blindly following directions with no reaction of his
own.

=Value of the supplementary lecture=

The incorporation recently of this idea into the courses at the
University of Chicago has been very successful. Five sections which
are under different instructors are combined one day a week at an hour
when there are no other university engagements, for a lecture
demonstration. This is given by a senior member of the staff whenever
possible. The other meetings during the week are conducted by the
individual instructors and consist of two two-hour laboratory periods
and two class periods that usually run into somewhat over one hour
each. These sections are limited to twenty-five, and a smaller number
than this would be desirable. The responsibility for the course rests
naturally upon the individual instructors of these small sections.
These men also share in the demonstration work, since each is usually
an enthusiast in some particular field and will make a great effort in
his own specialty to give a successful popular presentation of the
important ideas involved. The enthusiasm which this plan has
engendered is very great. Attendance is crowded and there is always a
row of visitors, teachers of the vicinity, advanced students in other
fields of work, or undergraduates brought in by members of the class.
These latter especially are encouraged, as this does much to offset
current ideas that physics is a subject of unmitigated severity. The
particular topics put into these demonstrations will be discussed in
paragraphs below, which take up in more detail the organization of the
special subdivisions of the material in a general physics course.

=Mechanics a stumbling block--How to meet the difficulty=

Mechanics is a stumbling block at the outset. As we have indicated
above, it must form the beginning of any course that is analytic in
aim. There is no question of sidestepping the difficulty: it must be
surmounted. A judicious weeding during the first week is the initial
part of the plan. Interest may be aroused at once in the demonstration
lectures by mechanical tricks that show apparent violations of
Newton's Laws. These group around the type of experiment which shows a
modification of the natural uniform rectilinear motion of any object
by some hidden force, most often a concealed magnetic field. The
instinctive adherence of every one to Newton's dynamic definition,
that acceleration defies the ratio of force to inertia, is made
obvious by the amusement with which a trick in apparent defiance of
this principle is greeted. Informality of discussion in such
experiments, questions on the part of the instructor that are more
than rhetorical, and volunteer answers and comment from the class
increase the vividness of the impressions. A mechanical adaptation of
the "monkey on the string" problem, using little electric hoists or
clockworks, introduces interesting discussion of the third law in
conjunction with the second. A toy cannon and target mounted on easily
rolling carriages bring in the similar ideas where impulses rather
than forces alone can be measured.

There follow, then, the laboratory experiments of the Atwood machine
and the force table, where quantitative results are demanded. It is
desirable to have these experiments at least worked by the class in
unison. Whatever may be the exigencies of numbers and apparatus
equipment that prevent it later, these introductions should be given
to and discussed by all together. In the nature of things,
fortunately, this is possible. A single Atwood machine will give
traces for all in a short time under the guidance of the instructor.
The force table experiment is nine-tenths calculation, and
verifications may be made for a large number in a short time.
Searching problems and discussion are instigated at once, and the
notion of rotational equilibrium and force moments brought in. Because
of the very great difficulty seeming to attach to force resolutions,
demonstration experiments and problems using a bridge structure, such
as the Harvard experimental truss, will amply repay the time invested.
Another experiment here, which makes analysis of the practice of
weighing, is possible, although there will be divergence almost at
once due to the personality of the instructor and the equipment by
which he finds himself limited. The early introduction of moments is
important, however, because it seems as if a great amount of
unnecessary confusion on this topic is continually cropping out later.
At this point, if limitations of apparatus present a difficulty, a
group of more or less independent experiments may be started. Ideas of
energy may be illustrated in the determination of the efficiency and
the horse power of simple machines, such as water motors, pulleys, and
even small gas or steam engines.

In discussion of power one should not forget that in practical
problems one meets power as force times velocity rather more
frequently than as rate of doing work, and this aspect should be
emphasized in the experiments. Conservation of energy is brought out
in these same experiments with reference to the efficiencies involved.
In sharp contrast here the principle of conservation of momentum may
be brought in by ballistic pendulum experiments involving elastic and
inelastic impacts. Most students are unfamiliar with the application
of these ideas to the determination of projectile velocities, and this
forms an interesting lecture demonstration. Elasticity likewise is a
topic that may be introduced with more or less emphasis according to
the predilection of the instructor. The moduli of Young and of simple
rigidity lend themselves readily to quantitative laboratory
experiments. Any amount of interesting material may be culled here
from recent investigations of Michelson, Bridgman, and others with
regard to elastic limits, departures from the simple relations,
variations with pressure, etc., for a lantern or demonstration talk in
these connections.

By this time the student should have found himself sufficiently
prepared to take up problems of rotational motion. The application of
Newton's Laws to pure rotations and combinations of rotation and
translation, such as rolling motions, are very many. We would
emphasize here the dynamic definition of moment of inertia, I = Fh/_a_
rather than the one so frequently given importance for computational
purposes, S_mr_^{2}. Quantitative experiments are furnished
by the rotational counterpart of the Atwood machine. Lecture
demonstrations for several talks abound: stability of spin about the
axis of greatest inertia, Kelvin's famous experiments with eggs and
tops containing liquids, which suggest the gyroscopic ideas, and
finally a discussion of gyroscopes and their multitudinous
applications. The book of Crabtree, _Spinning Tops and the
Gyroscope_, and the several papers by Gray in the _Proceedings of the
Physical Society of London_, summarize a wealth of material. If one
wishes to interject a parenthetical discussion of the Bernouilli
principle, and the simplest laws of pressure distributions on plane
surfaces moving through a resisting medium, a group of striking
demonstrations is possible involving this notion, and by simple
combination of it with the precession of a rotating body the boomerang
may be brought in and its action for the major part given explanation.

Rotational motion leads naturally to a discussion of centripetal
force, and this in turn is simple harmonic motion. This latter finds
most important applications in the pendulum experiments, and no end of
material is here to be found in any of the textbooks. The greatest
refinement of experimentation for elementary purposes will be the
determination of "g" by the method of coincidences between a simple
pendulum and the standard clock. Elementary analysis without use of
calculus reaches its culmination in a discussion of forced vibrations
similar to that used by Magie in his general text. Many will not care
to go as far as this. Others will go farther and discuss Kater's
pendulum and the small corrections needed for precision, for here does
precision find bold expression.

It is not our purpose to give a synopsis of the entire general physics
course. We have made an especially detailed study of mechanics,
because this topic is the one of greatest difficulty by far in the
pedagogy. It is too formally given in the average text, and seems to
have suffered most of all from lack of imagination on the part of
instructors.

=Suggested content for the study of phenomena of heat and molecular
physics=

In the field of heat and molecular physics in general there is much
better textbook material. Experiments here may legitimately be called
precise, for the gas laws, temperature coefficients, and densities of
gases and saturated vapor pressures will readily yield in
comparatively inexperienced hands an accuracy of about one in a
thousand. In the demonstrations emphasis should be given to the
visualization of the kinetic theory points of view. Such models as the
Northrup visible molecule apparatus are very helpful. However, in
absence of funds for such elaboration, slides from imaginative
drawings showing to scale conditions in solids, liquids, and vapors
with average free paths indicated and the history of single molecules
depicted will be found ideal in getting the visualization home to the
student. Where we have a theory so completely established as the
mechanical theory of heat it seems quite fair to have recourse to the
eye of the senses to aid the eye of the mind. Brownian movements have
already yielded up their dances to the motion picture camera. Need the
"movies" be the only ones to profit by the animated cartoon?

Nor should the classical material be forgotten. Boys' experiments in
soap bubbles have been the inspiration of generations of students of
capillarity. And if the physicist will consult with the physiological
chemist he will find a mass of material of which he never dreamed
where these phenomena of surface tension enter in a most direct
fashion to leading questions in the life sciences.

=The teacher of scholarship and understanding is the teacher who uses
sound methods=

Enough has been said to indicate what we consider the methods of
successful teaching of college physics. It is quite obvious, we think,
that physics constitutes no exception to the rule that the teacher
must first of all know and understand his subject. Right here lies
probably nine tenths of the fault with our pedagogy. No amount of
study of method will yield such returns as the study of the subject
itself. The honest student, and every teacher should belong to this
class or he has no claim to the name, is well aware that most of his
deficiency in explaining a topic is in direct ratio to his own lack of
comprehension of it. In physics, as in every other walk of life, we
suffer from lack of thoroughness, from a kind of superficiality that
is characteristically human but especially American. We have yet to
know of any one who really ranks as a scholar in his subject from whom
students do not derive inspiration and enthusiasm. Such a one usually
pays little attention to the methods of others, for the divine fire of
knowledge itself does not need much of tinder to kindle the torches
of others. Our greatest plea is for our teachers to be men of
understanding, for then they will be found to be men of method.

=The method of analysis dominant in physics=

The sequence in which heat, electricity, sound, and light follow
mechanics seems quite immaterial. Several equally logical plans may be
organized. Preference is usually accorded one or the other on the
basis of local conditions of equipment, and needs little reference to
pedagogy. If one gives to mechanics its proper importance, the
difficulty in giving instruction in the other topics seems very much
less. The momentum acquired seems to serve for the balance of the
year. Always must analysis be insisted upon, if our college course is
going to differ from that of the high school. If we are to let
students be content to read current from an ammeter with a calibrated
scale and not have the interest to inquire and the ambition to insist
upon the knowledge of how that calibration was originally made, we
have no right to claim any collegiate rank for our courses. But if we
define electrical current in terms of mechanical force which exhibits
a balanced couple on a system in rotational equilibrium, there can be
no dodging of the issue, for in no other way than by the study of the
mechanics of the situation can the content and the limitations of our
definition be understood. Any college work, so called, that does less
than analyze thus is nothing more than a review and amplification of
the material that should be within the range of the high school
student and in that place presented to him. The first college course
reveals a different method, the method of analysis. Science at the
present time is so far developed that in no branch is progress made by
mere description and classification. The method of analysis is
dominant in the biological and the earth sciences as well as in the
physics and chemistry of today.

=Teaching of advanced courses in physics=

On the more advanced college courses which follow the general physics
course little comment is needed. Problems and questions here also
exist, but they have a strongly local color and are out of place in a
general discussion. The student body is no longer composed of the
rank and file, half of whom are driven, by some requirement or other,
into work in which they have but a passing interest at best. It is no
longer a problem of seeing how much can be made to adhere in spite of
indifference, of how firm a foundation can be prepared for needs as
yet unrecognized in the subject of the effort. A very limited number,
comparatively, enter further work of senior college courses, and these
have either enthusiasm or ability and often both. Of course, a cold
neglect or bored indifference in the attitude of the teacher will be
resented. It will kill enthusiasm and send ability seeking inspiration
elsewhere. But any one who is fond of his subject, and of moderate
ability and industry, should have no difficulty in developing senior
college work. If our instructor in the general course must be a
scholar to be successful, the man in more advanced work must be one _a
fortiori_. If he is not, few who come in contact with him have so
little discernment as to fail to recognize the fact.

=Organization of advanced courses=

Organization of senior college work may be in many ways. One method
where an institution follows the quarter system is the plan of having
eight or ten different and rather unrelated twelve-week major courses
which may be taken in almost any order. Half of these are lecture
courses, the other half exclusively laboratory courses. There should
be a correspondence of material to some extent between the two.
Lectures on the kinetic theory of gases should have a parallel course
in which the classical experiments of the senior heat laboratory are
performed,--such experiments, for example, as vapor density,
resistance and thermocouple pyrometry, bomb calorimetry viscosity,
molecular conductivity, freezing and boiling points, recalescence,
etc. A course of advanced electrical measurements should have a
parallel lecture course in which the theoretical aspects of
electromagnetism, the classical theories, and the equations that
represent transitory and equilibrium conditions in complex circuits
are discussed. In optics, likewise, there is ample material of great
importance: physical, geometrical optics, spectroscopy, photography,
X-ray crystallography, etc. The advanced student in these fields finds
more elasticity and opportunity for cultivating a special interest in
having a large number of limited interest courses from which to choose
than in having such material presented in a completely organized
course covering one or two years of complete work. Instructors who are
specialists have opportunity of working up courses in their own fields
which they do more efficiently under this plan. Research begins at
innumerable places along the way, and the senior college courses so
organized are the feeders of all graduate work.

=Dangers of formalizing methods of instruction=

In all of the above discussion it should be clearly remembered that no
single plan or no one particular method has the final word or ever
will have. As long as a science is growing and unfinished, points of
view will continually be shifting. We are largely orthodox in our
teaching. If brought up on the laboratory method of instruction it may
seem the best one for us, but others may prefer another way which they
have inherited. Let us appeal, then, for a constructive orthodoxy. Let
us be as teachers of a subject to which we are devoted, truly and
sincerely open-minded, quick to recognize and sincere in our efforts
to adopt what is better wherever we meet it: waiting not to meet it,
either, but going out to seek it. From the humblest college to the
greatest university we shall find it here and there. Not alone in
schools but in the legion of human activities about us on every hand
are people who are doing things more efficiently, more thoroughly, and
more skillfully than we do things. If we would be of the number that
lead, we must be among the first to recognize these facts and profit
by them.

First, let our work be organized with respect to that of others--the
high schools; not discounting their labor but having them truly build
for us.

Second, let us be open-minded enough to see that all methods of
instruction have their advantages and make such combinations of the
best elements in each as best suit our purpose.

Above all things, let us know our subject. Here is a task before which
we quail in this generation of vast vistas. But there is no
alternative for us. No amount of method will remove the curse of the
superficially informed. Let us devote ourselves to smaller fields if
we must, but let us not tolerate ignorance among those who bear the
burden of passing on, with its flame ever more consuming, the torch of
knowledge.

                                                HARVEY B. LEMON
  _University of Chicago_



VII

THE TEACHING OF GEOLOGY


=Values of the study of geology diverse=

So wide is the scope of the science of the earth, so varied is its
subject matter, and so diverse are the mental activities called forth
in its pursuit, that its function in collegiate training cannot be
summed up in an introductory phrase or two. Geology is so composite
that it is better fitted to serve a related group of educational
purposes than a single one alone. Besides this, these possible
services have not yet become so familiar that they can be brought
vividly to mind by an apt word or phrase; they need elaboration and
exposition to be valued at what they are really worth. Geology is yet
a young science and still growing, and as in the case of a growing
boy, to know what it was a few years ago is not to know what it is
today. Its disciplines take on a realistic phase in the main, but yet
in some aspects appeal powerfully to the imagination. Its subject
matter forms a constitutional history of our planet and its
inhabitants, but yet largely wears a descriptive or a dynamic garb.

=Geology a study of the process of evolution=

Though basally historical, a large part of the literature of geology
is concerned with the description of rocks, structural features,
geologic terrains, surface configurations and their modes of formation
and means of identification. A notable part of the text prepared for
college students relates primarily to phenomena and processes, leaving
the history of the earth to follow later in a seemingly secondary way.
This has its defense in a desire first to make clear the modes of the
geologic processes, to the end that the parts played by these
processes in the complexities of actions that make up the historical
stages may be better realized. This has the effect, however, of giving
the impression that geology is primarily a study of rocks and
rock-forming processes, and this impression is confirmed by the great
mass of descriptive literature that has sprung almost necessarily
from the task of delineating such a multitude of formations before
trying to interpret their modes of origin or to assign them their
places in the history of the earth. The descriptive details are the
indispensable data of a sound history, and they have in addition
specific values independent of their service as historical data. But
into the multiplicity and complexity of the details of structure and
of process, the average college student can wisely enter to a limited
extent only, except as they form types, or appear in the local fields
which he studies, where they serve as concrete examples of
world-forming processes.

=Disciplinary worth of study of geology=

The study of these structures, formations, configurations, and
processes yields each its own special phase of discipline and its own
measure of information. The work takes on various chemical,
mechanical, and biological aspects. As a means of discipline it calls
for keenness and diligence in observation, circumspection in
inference, a judicial balancing of factors in interpretation. An
active use of the scientific imagination is called forth in following
formations to inaccessible depths or beneath areas where they are
concealed from view.

While thus the study of structures, formations and configurations
constitutes the most obtrusive phase of geologic study and has given
trend to pedagogical opinion respecting its place in a college course,
such study is not, in the opinion of the writer, the foremost function
of the subject in a college curriculum that is designed to be really
broad, basal, and free, in contradistinction to one that is tied to a
specific vocational purpose.

=This study concerned primarily with the typical college course, not
with vocational courses=

While we recognize, with full sympathy, that the subject matter of
geology enters vitally into certain vocational and prevocational
courses, and, in such relations, calls for special selections of
material and an appropriate handling, if it is to fulfill these
purposes effectively, this seems to us aside from the purpose of this
discussion, which centers on typical college training--training which
is liberal in the cosmic sense, not merely from the homocentric point
of view.

=Knowledge of geology contributes to a truly liberal education=

To subserve these broader purposes, geology is to be studied
comprehensively as the evolution of the earth and its inhabitants. The
earth in itself is to be regarded as an organism and as the
foster-parent of a great series of organisms that sprang into being
and pursued their careers in the contact zones between its rigid body
and its fluidal envelopes. These contact zones are, in a special
sense, the province of geography in both its physical and its biotic
aspects. The evolution of the biotic and the psychic worlds in these
horizons is an essential part of the history of the whole, for each
factor has reacted powerfully on the others. An appreciative grasp of
these great evolutions, and of their relations to one another, is
essential to a really broad view of the world of which we are a part;
it is scarcely less than an essential factor in a modern liberal
education.

=Geology embraces all the great evolutions=

Let us agree, then, at the outset, that a true study of the career of
the earth is not adequately compassed by a mere tracing of its
inorganic history or an elucidation of its physical structure and
mineral content, but that it embraces as well all the great evolutions
fostered within the earth's mantles in the course of its career.

Greatest among these fostered evolutions, from the homocentric point
of view, are the living, the sentient, and the thinking kingdoms that
have grown up with the later phases of the physical evolution. It does
not militate against this view that each of these kingdoms is, in
itself, the subject of special sciences, and that these, in turn,
envelop a multitude of sub-sciences, for that is true of every
comprehensive unit. Nor is it inconsistent with this larger view of
the scope of geology that it is, itself, often given a much narrower
definition, as already implied. In its broader sense, geology is an
enveloping science, surveying, in a broad historical way, many
subjects that call for intensive study under more special sciences,
just as human history sweeps comprehensively over a broad field
cultivated more intensively by special humanistic sciences. In a
comprehensive study of the earth as an organism, it is essential that
there be embraced a sufficient consideration of all the vital factors
that entered into its history to give these their due place and their
true value among the agencies that contributed to its evolution. A
true biography of the earth can no more be regarded as complete
without the biotic and psychic elements that sprang forth from it, or
were fostered within its mantles, than can the biography of a human
being be complete with a mere sketch of his physical frame and bodily
growth. The physical and biological evolutions are well recognized as
essential parts of earth history. Although the mental evolutions have
emerged gradually with the biological evolutions, and have run more or
less nearly parallel with them--have, indeed, been a working part of
them--they have been less fully and frankly recognized as elements of
geological history. They have been rather scantily treated in the
literature of the subject; but they are, none the less, a vital part
of the great history. They have found some recognition, though much
too meager, in the more comprehensive and philosophical treatises on
earth-science. It may be safely prophesied that the later and higher
evolutions that grace our planet will be more adequately emphasized as
the science grows into its full maturity and comes into its true place
among the sciences. It is important to emphasize this here, since it
is preëminently the function of a liberal college course to give
precedence to the comprehensive and the essential, both in its
selection of its subject matter and in its treatment of what it
selects. It is the function of a liberal course of study to bring that
which is broad and basal and vital into relief, and to set it over
against that which is limited, special, and technical, however
valuable the latter may be in vocational training and in economic
application.

=Physical and dynamic boundaries of geology--Implications for teaching=

In view of these considerations--and frankly recognizing the
inadequacies of current treatment--let us note, before we go further,
what are the physical and dynamic boundaries of the geologic field,
that we may the better see how that field merges into the domains of
other sciences. This will the better prepare us to realize the nature
of the disciplines for which earth-science forms a suitable basis, as
well as the types of intellectual furniture it yields to the mind.
Obviously these disciplines and this substance of thought should
determine the place of the science in the curriculum of any course
that assumes the task of giving a broad and liberal education.

Earth-science is the domestic chapter of celestial science. Our planet
is but a modest unit among the great celestial assemblage of worlds;
but, modest as it is, it is that unit about which we have by far the
fullest and most reliable knowledge. The earth not only furnishes the
physical baseline of celestial observation, but supplies all the
appliances by which inquiry penetrates the depths of the heavens. Not
alone earth-science, as such, but several of the intensive sciences
brought into being through the intellectual evolutions that have
attended the later history of the earth, have been prerequisites to
the development of the broad science of the outer heavens. The science
of the lower heavens is a factor of earth-science in the definition we
are just about to give. At the same time, the whole earth, including
the lower heavens, is enveloped by the more comprehensive domain of
celestial science.

If we seek the most logical limit that may be assigned the realm of
earth-science, as distinguished from that of celestial science, of
which it is the home unit, it may be found at that borderline _within
which_ any passive body obeys the call of the earth, as against the
call of the outer worlds, and _without which_ such a passive body
obeys the call of the outer worlds, the call of the sun in particular.
This limit is the _dynamic dividing line_ between the kingdom of the
earth and the kingdom of the outer heavens. This boundary, according
to Moulton, incloses a spheroid whose minimum radius is about 620,000
miles, and whose maximum radius is about 930,000 miles. We may, then,
conveniently say that the earth's sphere of control stretches out a
million kilometers from its center and that this defines its true
realm. At the same time, this defines the logical limit of the earth's
ultra-atmosphere and appears to mark a zone of exchange between the
ultra-atmosphere of the earth and the ultra-atmosphere of the sun. It
thus appears to imply the place and the mode of an exchange of vital
elements upon which probably hangs the wonderful maintenance of the
earth's atmosphere for many millions of years and the equally
wonderful regulation of the essential qualities of the atmosphere so
that these have always remained within the narrow range subservient to
terrestrial life. It is needless to add that this regulation also
conditions the present intellectual status of the thinking factor
among the inhabitants of the earth out of which--may I be pardoned for
saying?--has grown the present educational discussion.

If this last shall seem to squint toward special pleading, let it be
considered that, as we see things, it is precisely those views that
take hold of the issues upon which our very being and all its
activities depend, that serve best to train youth to broad views and
penetrating thought. Such thinking seems to me to form the very
essence of a really liberal education.

Not only is this definition of the sphere of geology comprehensive,
but it has the special merit of being _dynamic_, rather than material.
Such a dynamic definition comports with the view that earth-study
should center on the forces and energies that actuated its evolution,
since these are the most vital feature of the evolution itself. It is
important to form adequate concepts of the energies that have
maintained the past ongoings of the earth not only, but that still
maintain its present activities and predetermine its future. It is the
study of the forces and the processes of past and of present
evolutions that constitute the soul of the science, rather than the
apparently fixed and passive aspects of the earth's formations and
configurations which are but the products of the processes that have
gone before. Even the apparent passiveness of the geologic products is
illusive, for they are in reality expressions of continued internal
activities of an intense, though occult, order. These escape notice
largely because they are balanced against one another in a system of
equilibrium which pervades them and gives them the appearance of
fixity. To serve their proper functions as sources of higher
education, the concepts of the constitution of the earth should
penetrate even to these refined aspects of physical organization and
should bring the whole into harmony with the most advanced views of
the real nature of physical organisms. This removes from the whole
terrestrial organism every similitude of inertness and gives it a
fundamental refinement, activity, and potency of the highest order. To
form a true and consistent concept, the enveloping earth-science must
be assumed to embrace, potentially at least, the essentials of all
that was evolved within it and from it, with, of course, due
recognition of what was added from without.

_The history of the earth should therefore be taught in college
courses as a succession of complex dynamic events, great in the past
and great in future potentialities._

The formations and configurations left by the successive phases of
action are to be studied primarily as the vestiges of the processes
that gave them birth, and hence as their historic credentials. They
are to be looked upon less as the vital things in themselves, than as
the _record_ of the events of the time and as the forerunners of the
subsequent events that may be potential in them. And so, primarily,
the geologic records are to be scrutinized to find _the deeper
meanings which they embody_, whether such meanings lie in the
physical, the biological, or the psychological world.

=Geology the means of developing scientific imagination of time and space=

Turning to specific phases of the subject, it may first be noted that
geology is singularly suited to develop clear visions of vast
stretches of time; it opens broad visions of the panorama of world
events, a panorama still passing before us. While the celestial order
of things no doubt involves greater lapses of time, these are not so
easily realized, for they are not so well filled in with a succession
of records of the passing stages that make up the whole. But even the
lapses of geologic time are greater than immature minds can readily
grasp; however, their _powers of realization_ are greatly strengthened
by studying so protracted a record, built up stage upon stage. The
very slowness with which the geologic record was made, as well as the
evidences of slowness in each part of the record, help to draw out an
appreciation of the immensity of the whole. The round period covered
by the more legible range of the geologic record rises to the order of
a hundred million years, perhaps to several hundred million years. The
large view of history which this implies has already come to form the
ample background on which are projected the concepts of the broader
class of thinkers; such largeness of view will quite surely be held to
be an indispensable prerequisite to the still broader thinking of the
future for which the better order of students are now preparing.

While this is preëminently true of the concept of time, the concept of
space is fairly well cultivated by geologic study, though far less
effectively than is done by astronomical study. Astronomy and geology
work happily together in contributing to largeness of thought.

The study of the origin and early history of the earth brings the
student into touch with the most far-reaching problems that have thus
far called forth the intellectual efforts of man. If rightly handled,
these great themes may be made to teach the true method of inquiry
into past natural events whose vastness puts them quite beyond the
resources of the laboratory. This method finds its key in a search for
the history of such vast and remote events by a scrutiny of the
vestiges these events have left as their own automatic record. This
method stands in sharp contradistinction to simple speculation without
such search for talismanic vestiges, a discredited method which is too
often supposed to be the only way of dealing with such themes. To be
really competent in the field of larger and deeper thinking, every
courageous mind should be able to cross the threshold of any of the
profound problems of the universe with safe and circumspect steps,
however certain it may be that only a slight measure of penetration of
the problem may be attainable. A well-ordered mind will remain at once
complacent and wholesome when brought to the limit of its effort by
the limit of evidence. The problem of the origin of celestial worlds,
of which the genesis of the earth is the theme of largest human
interest, is admirably suited to give college students at once a
modest sense of their limitations and a wholesome attitude toward
problems of the vaster type. Without having acquired the power to make
prudent and duly controlled excursions into the vaster fields of
thought, the mind can scarcely be said to have been liberalized.

=Geology a means of training in thinking in scientific experiences=

From the very outset, the tracing of the earth history forces a
comprehensive study of the co-workings of the three dominant states of
matter massively embodied in the atmosphere, the hydrosphere, and the
lithosphere, the great terrestrial triumvirate. The strata of the
earth are the joint products of these three elements and constitute
their lithographic record. These three coöperating and contending
elements not only bring into view the three typical phases of physical
action, but they present this action in such titanic aspects as to
force the young mind to think along large lines, with the great
advantage that these actions are controlled by determinate laws, while
the causes and the results are both tangible and impressive.

While there is a large class of tangible and determinate problems of
this kind, embracing shiftings of matter on the earth's surface,
distortions of strata, and changes of bodily form, there are also
problems of a more hidden nature such as internal mutations. These
give rise to mathematical, physical, and chemical inquiries while at
the same time they call into play the use of the scientific
imagination and are thus rich in the possibilities of training. Thus
in varied ways geological work joins hands with chemical, physical,
mechanical, and mathematical work.

When life first appears in the record, there is occasion to raise the
profound question of its origin, and with this arises a closely
related question as to the nature of the conditions that invited life,
which leads on to the further question, what fostered the development
of life throughout its long history? While the obscurity of the
earliest record leaves the question of origin indeterminate for the
present, duly guarded thought upon the subject should foster a
wholesome spirit toward inquiry in this vital line as well as a
hospitable attitude toward whatever solution may finally await us. In
all such studies the student should be invited to look to _the
vestiges left automatically by the process itself_ for the answer, and
he should learn to accept the teachings of evidence precisely as it
presents itself. So also when a problem is, for the present,
indeterminate, it is peculiarly wholesome for the inquirer to learn to
rest the case where the light of evidence fails, and to be complacent
in such suspension of judgment and to wait further light patiently in
serene confidence that the vestiges left by the actuating agencies in
their constructive processes are the surest index of the ultimate
truth and are likely to be sooner or later detected and read truly.

=Relation of geology to botany, zoölogy, psychology, and sociology=

In the successive records of past life impressed on strata piled one
upon another until they form the great paleontologic register, there
is an ample and a solid basis for the study of the historic evolution
of life. With this also go evidences of the conditions that attended
this life progress and that gave trend to it. This record of the
relations of life to the environing physical conditions forms one of
the most stimulating fields of study that can engage the student who
seeks light on the great problems of biological progress. Here geology
joins hands with botany and zoölogy in a mutual helpfulness that is
scarcely less than indispensable to each.

Following, or perhaps immediately attending, the introduction of
physiological life, there appeared signs of sentient life. The
preservation of certain of the sense organs, taken together with the
collateral evidences of sense action, as early as Cambrian times,
furnish the groundwork for a historical study of the progress of
sentient life, eventuating in the higher forms of mental life. Here
the problems of geology run hand in hand with the problems of
psychology. The limitations of the evidence bearing on psychological
phenomena, while regrettable, are not without some compensation in
that they center the attention on the simpler aspects of the
protracted deployment of the psychological functions.

In addition to the clear evidences of psychic action, in at least its
elementary forms, there appeared early in the stratigraphic records
intimations of some of the relationships that sentient beings then
bore to one another; and this relationship gives occasion to study the
primitive aspects of sociological phenomena. If nothing more is
learned than the important lesson that sociology is not a thing of
today, not an untried realm inviting all kinds of ill-digested
projects, but on the contrary is a field of vast and instructive
history, the gain will not be inconsiderable. There are intimations of
the early existence and effective activity of those affections that
precede and that cluster about the parental relationship, the nucleus
of the most vital of all the sociological relationships. In contrast
to the affections, there are distinct evidences of antagonistic
relations, of pursuit and capture, of attack and defense; there were
tools of warfare and devices for protection. In time, a wide-ranging
series of experiments, so to speak, were tried to secure advantage, to
avoid suffering, to escape death, and to preserve the species. There
were even suggestions of the cruder forms of government. The many
stages in the evolution of the various devices, as well as the stages
of their abandonment, that followed one another in the course of the
ages recorded the results of a multitude of efforts at sociological
adjustment. They raise the question whether a common set of guiding
principles does not underlie all such relationships, earlier and
later, whatever their rank in our scale of valuation. And so this
great field of inquiry--too narrowly regarded as merely
humanistic--comes into view early in the history of the earth. The
geological and the sociological sciences find in it common working
ground. If the geologic and the humanistic sciences are given each
their widest interpretation and their freest application, the
advantage cannot be other than mutual.

It is perhaps not too much to say that studies in the physiological,
the psychological, the sociological, and the allied fields necessarily
lack completeness if they do not bring into their purview the data of
their common historical record traced as far back as it is found to
contain intimations of their actual extension.

It is customary to speak of the geologic ages as though they were
wholly past; they are, indeed, chiefly past as the record now stands,
but time runs on and earth history continues; the processes of the
past are still active, and they are likely to work on far into the
future. And so geologic study links itself fundamentally into all such
present terrestrial interests as take hold of the distant future. The
forecast of the earth's endurance, attended by conditions congenial to
life and to the mental and moral activities, hinges on a sound insight
into the great actuating forces inherent in the earth, together with
those likely to come into play from the celestial environment. All
human interests, in so far as they are dependent on a protracted
future, center in the prognosis of the earth based on its present and
its past. The latest phases of geologic doctrine prophesy a long
future habitability of the earth. They thus give meaning and emphasis
to the deeper purposes sought in all the higher endeavors, not the
least of which is education, particularly those phases of education
that lead to effects which may be handed down from age to age.

=Standard for selecting subject matter for the general college course:
select fundamentals or that which bears on fundamentals=

Out of all this vast physical, biological, and psychological history,
the things to be selected for substance of thought and for service in
mental training in a college course are, first of all, those that are
either fundamental in themselves, or that have vital bearings on what
is fundamental. These are chiefly the great dynamic factors, the
agencies that gave trend to the master events, the forces that
actuated the basal processes by which the vast results were attained.
The material formations and the surficial configurations that resulted
are to be duly considered, to be sure, for they form the basis of
interpretation and they are, besides, the repositories of economic
values of indispensable worth; but, as already urged, in a course of
intellectual training, these are to be regarded rather as the relics
of the great agencies and the proofs of their actions, than as the
most vital subjects of study, which are the agencies themselves. As
already remarked, the geologic formations are to be treated rather as
the credentials of the potencies that reside in the earth organism,
than as the vital things themselves. The vestiges of creation and the
footprints of historical progress embody the soul of the subject; they
constitute the chief source of inspiration to those who aspire to
think in large, deep ways of really great things. It is of little
value, from the viewpoint of liberal culture, to know that there is a
certain succession of sandstones, shales, and limestones; that
professional convention has given them certain names, more or less
infelicitous in derivation and in phonic quality; but it is of vital
consequence to learn how and why these relics of former processes came
to be left as they were left, and thus came to be witnesses to the
history of the far past. It was a wise thing, no doubt, that the
fathers of geology strongly insisted that there should be a rigorous
and rather literal adhesion to the terrestrial record in all earth
studies, because in those times of transition from the loose, more or
less fantastic thought that marked the adolescent stage of the human
race, it was imperative that students should stick close to the
immediate evidence of what had transpired, and should withhold
themselves from much enlargement of view based on the less tangible
evidences; but at the present stage, when the general nature of the
earth's history has been firmly established, it would be an error on
the part of those who seek for the most liberalizing and broadening
values of the science, to treat the record merely as a material
register of immediate import only, to the neglect of the less tangible
but more vital teachings immanent in its great forces and processes.
The seeker of liberal culture should direct his attention to the great
events, and, above all, to the larger and deeper meanings implied by
these events.

And so--may I be pardoned for reëmphasizing?--the teacher of geology
whose essential purpose is liberal training, leading to broad and firm
knowledge and to sound processes of thought, will critically observe
the distinction between geology taught appropriately from the
collegiate point of view, and geology taught specifically from the
professional and technical points of view. In these latter, specific
details in specific lines are important, and may even be essential,
but it is the function of the college teacher of geology _to select_
from the great mass of material of the science such factors as are
basal, vital, and talismanic. He will give these emphasis, while he
neglects the multitude of details that lack significance as working
elements or as landmarks of progress, whatever their value in other
relations. This selection is equally important, whether applied to the
great physical processes that have shaped the earth into its present
configuration, or to the great chemical and mineralogical processes
that have determined its texture and its structure, or to the great
biological and psychological processes that have given trend to the
development of its inhabitants.

Even if the undergraduate course in geology is pursued less for the
purpose of liberal culture than as a means of preparing for a
professional career as an economic geologist, no essential departure
from an effort to master first the basal features and the broader
aspects of the science, especially the dynamic aspects, is to be
advised. The shortest road to _declared success_ in professional and
economic geology lies through the early mastery of its fundamentals.
No doubt immediate and apparent success may often be sooner reached by
a narrower and shallower study of such special phases of the subject
as happen just now to be most obviously related to the existing state
of the industries; but industrial demands are constantly
changing--indeed, at present, rather rapidly--and new aspects follow
one another in close succession. These new aspects almost inevitably
spring from the more basal factors as these rise into function with
the progress of experience or the stress of new demands. Those who
have sought only the immediate and the superficial, at the expense of
the basal, and especially those who have neglected to acquire _the
power and the disposition to search out the fundamentals_, are quite
sure to be left among the unfortunates who trail behind; they are
little likely to be found among those who lead at the times when
leadership counts. In the judgment of those master minds that lead in
affairs and that take large and penetrating views, the lines along
which the most vital contributions to economic interests are being
made connect closely with basal studies of the actuating agencies that
condition great enterprises. In the judgment of the writer, it is a
false view to suppose that any short, superficial study of so vast a
subject as the constitution and history of the earth can result in
economic competency. In so far as time for study is limited, it should
be concentrated on the great underlying factors that constitute the
essentials of the science. It is here assumed that men who care to
take a college course at all are seeking for a large success and are
ambitious for a high personal career. If they look ultimately to
professional work in economic lines, they may safely be advised that
the straight road to declared success lies in a search for the vital
forces, the critical agencies, and the profound principles that make
for great results, not along the by-paths whose winding, superficial
courses are turned hither and thither by adventitious conditions whose
very nature invites distrust rather than confidence.

=Evaluations of methods of teaching=

Turning to some of the more formal phases of treatment, three types of
work are presented: (1) the use of nature's laboratory, the world
itself, (2) the use of the college collections and laboratories, and
(3) the use of the literature of the subject.

(1) Fortunately, there is no place on the face of the earth where
there is not some natural material for geologic study, for even in the
most artificialized locations geological processes are active. In
crowded cities these processes may be easily overlooked, but yet they
are susceptible of effective use. Within easy access from almost every
college site there are serviceable fields of study, and these, in any
live course, will be assiduously cultivated. They may be relatively
modest in their phenomena; they may seem to lack that impressiveness
which has played so large a part in the popular notion of the content
of geology, but they may nevertheless serve as most excellent training
grounds for young geologists. If students are so situated as to be
brought at the beginning of study under the influence of very
impressive displays of geologic phenomena--precipitous mountains,
rugged cliffs, deep cañons, and the like--there is danger that their
mental habits may become diffusive rather than close and keen; the
emotions may be called forth in wonder rather than turned into zest in
the search for evidence. If students are to be trained to diligence in
inquiry and to the highest virility in inference and interpretation,
it is perhaps fortunate for them if they are located where only modest
records of geological processes are presented for study. In such
regions they are more likely to be led to scrutinize the field keenly,
sharply, and diligently for data on which to build their
interpretations. The scientific use of their imaginations is all the
better trained if, in their endeavor to build up a consistent concept
of the whole structure that underlies their field, they are forced to
project their inferences from a few out-crops far beneath the cover of
the adjacent mantle that shuts off direct vision. Few teachers have,
therefore, any real occasion to long for richer fields than those
accessible to them, if they have the tact to render these fertile in
stimulus and suggestion.

(2) Laboratory work upon the material collected in the field work, as
well as laboratory work upon the college collections, are essential
adjuncts. Ample provisions for this supplementary work, however modest
the appointments, are important and can usually be secured by
ingenuity and diligence in spite of financial limitations.

Both field and laboratory work should be well correlated with one
another and with the systematic work on the text that guides the
study, so that each shall whet the edge of the other and all together
accomplish what neither could alone.

(3) The text selected should be such as lends itself, in some notable
degree at least, to the general purposes set forth above. It should be
supplemented, so far as may be, by judicious assignments for reading
and for special study. Lectures may be made a valuable aid to the
discussions of the classroom, but with college classes they can rarely
be made an advantageous substitute for the discussions. Lecturing, so
far as used, is best woven informally into the classroom discussions.
Supplementary lecturettes may be advised if they are of such an
informal sort that they may almost unconsciously take their start from
any vital point encountered in the course of discussion, may run on as
far as the occasion invites, and may then give way again to the
discussion with the utmost informality. Such little participations in
the work of the classroom, on the part of the teacher, are likely to
be cordially welcomed. At the same time, if well done, they will set
an excellent example in the presentative art as also in an apt
organization of thought.

=Organization of courses=

If the stated course in earth-science is limited to the junior and
senior year by the existing requirements of the curriculum of the
institution or by the rulings of its officers--as is not uncommonly
the case at present--it is relatively immaterial whether the sections
of the course are marshaled under the single name "geology" or whether
they are given separate titles as sub-sciences, provided the special
subjects are arranged in logical sequence and in consecutive order.
If, on the other hand, the teacher's choice of time and relations is
freer, the more accessible phases of earth study, now well organized
under the name of "physiography," form an excellent course for either
freshmen or sophomores. It opens their minds to a world of interesting
activities about them which have probably been largely overlooked in
previous years. It gives them substance of thought that will be of
much service in the pursuit of other sciences. It has been found that
it is not without rather notable service to young students as the
basis of efforts in the art of literary presentation, a felicity to
which teachers of this important art frequently give emphatic
testimony. The secret seems to lie in the fact that physiography gives
varied and vivid material susceptible of literary presentation, while
the fixed qualities of the subject matter control the choice of terms
and the mode of expression.

If geography and physiography are given in the earlier years, the
course in historical geology, as well as the study of the more
difficult phases of geological processes, of the principles of dynamic
geology, together with mineralogy, petrology, and paleontology, may
best fall into the later years, even if some interval separates them
from the geography and physiography.

One hundred and twenty classroom hours, or their equivalent in
laboratory and field work, are perhaps to be regarded as the
irreducible minimum in a well-balanced undergraduate course, while
twice that time or more is required to give a notably strong college
course in earth-science.

A consideration of the sequences among the geological sub-subjects, as
also among the subjects that are held to be preliminary to the
earth-sciences, is important, but it would lead us too far into
details which depend more or less on local conditions. In the
experience of American teachers it appears to have been found
advisable to put geological processes and typical phenomena to the
front and to take up geological history afterwards. The earlier method
of taking up the history first, beginning with recent stages and
working backward down the ages,--once in vogue abroad,--has been
abandoned in this country. It was the order in which the science was
developed and it had the advantage of starting with the living present
and with the most accessible formations, but this latter advantage is
secured by studying the living processes, as such, first, and turning
to the history later. This permits the study of the history in its
natural order, which seems better to call forth the relations of
cause and effect and to give emphasis to the influence of inherited
conditions.

Respecting antecedents to the study, the more knowledge of physics,
chemistry, zoölogy, and botany, the better, but it is easy to
over-stress the necessity for such preparation, however logical it may
seem, for in reality all the natural sciences are so interwoven that,
in strict logic, a complete knowledge of all the others should be had
before any one is begun, a _reductio ad absurdum_. The sciences have
been developed more or less contemporaneously and progressively, each
helping on the others. They may be pursued much in the same way, or by
alternations in which each prior study favors the sequent one. They
may even be taken in a seemingly illogical order without serious
disadvantage, for the alternative advantages and other considerations
may outweigh the force of the logical order, which is at best only
partially logical. It is of prime importance to stimulate in students
a habit of observing natural phenomena at an early age. It may be wise
for a student to take up physiography, or its equivalent, early in the
college course, irrespective of an ideal preparation in the related
sciences. It is unfortunate to defer such study to a stage when the
student's natural aptitude for observation and inference has become
dulled by neglect or by confinement to subjects devoid of naturalistic
stimulus. To permit students to take up earth-science in the freshman
and sophomore years, even without the ideal preparation, is therefore
probably wiser than to defer the study beyond the age of
responsiveness to the touch of the natural environment. The geographic
and geologic environment conditioned the mental evolution of the race.
It left an inherited impress on the perceptive and emotional nature,
only to be awakened most felicitously, it would seem, at about the age
at which the naturalistic phases of the youth's mentality were
originally called into their most intense exercise.

                                               T. C. CHAMBERLIN
  _The University of Chicago_



VIII

THE TEACHING OF MATHEMATICS


=Recent changes and some of their sources=

In recent years the teaching of mathematics has undergone remarkable
changes in many countries, both as regards method and as regards
content. With respect to college mathematics these changes have been
evidenced by a growing emphasis on applications and on the historic
setting of the various questions. To understand one direct source of
these changes it is only necessary to recall the fact that in about
1880 there began a steady stream of American mathematical students to
Europe, especially to Germany. Most of these students entered the
faculties of our colleges and universities on their return to America
It is therefore of great importance to inquire what mathematical
situation served to inspire these students.

The German mathematical developments of the greater part of the
nineteenth century exhibited a growing tendency to disregard
applications. It was not until about 1890 that a strong movement was
inaugurated to lay more stress on applied mathematics in Germany.[3]
Our early American students therefore brought with them from Germany a
decided tendency toward investigations in mathematical fields remote
from direct contact with applications to other scientific subjects,
such as physics and astronomy, which had so largely dominated
mathematical investigations in earlier years.

This picture would, however, be very incomplete without exhibiting
another factor of a similar type working in our own midst. J. J.
Sylvester was selected as the first professor of mathematics at Johns
Hopkins University, which opened its doors in 1876 and began at once
to wield a powerful influence in starting young men in higher
research. Sylvester's own investigations related mainly to the formal
and abstract side of mathematics. Moreover, "he was a poor teacher
with an imperfect knowledge of mathematical literature. He possessed,
however, an extraordinary personality; and had in remarkable degree
the gift of imparting enthusiasm, a quality of no small value in
pioneer days such as these were with us."[4]

=Influence of researches in mathematics on methods of teaching=

Mathematical research was practically introduced into the American
colleges during the last quarter of the nineteenth century, and the
wave of enthusiasm which attended this introduction was unfortunately
not sufficiently tempered by emphasis on good teaching and breadth of
knowledge, especially as regards applications. In fact, the leading
mathematician in America during the early part of this period was
glaringly weak along these lines. By means of his bountiful enthusiasm
he was able to do a large amount of good for the selected band of
gifted students who attended his lectures, but some of these were not
so fortunate in securing the type of students who are helped more by
the direct enthusiasm of their teacher than by the indirect enthusiasm
resulting from good teaching.

The need of good mathematical teaching in our colleges and
universities began to become more pronounced at about the time that
the wave of research enthusiasm set in, as a result of the growing
emphasis on technical education which exhibited itself most
emphatically in the development of the schools of engineering. While
the student who is specially interested in mathematics may be willing
to get along with a teacher whose enthusiasm for the new and general
leads him to neglect to emphasize essential details in the
presentation, the average engineering student insists on clearness in
presentation and usability of the results. As the latter student does
not expect to become a mathematical specialist, he is naturally much
more interested in good teaching than in the mathematical reputation
of his teacher, even if his reputation is not an entirely
insignificant factor for him.

During the last decade of the nineteenth century and the first decade
of the present century the mathematical departments of our colleges
and universities faced an unusually serious situation as a result of
the conditions just noted. The new wave of research enthusiasm was
still in its youthful vigor and in its youthful mood of
inconsiderateness as regards some of the most important factors. On
the other hand, many of the departments of engineering had become
strong and were therefore able to secure the type of teaching suited
to their needs. In a number of institutions this led to the breaking
up of the mathematical department into two or more separate
departments aiming to meet special needs.

In view of the fact that the mathematical needs of these various
classes of students have so much in common, leading mathematicians
viewed with much concern this tendency to disrupt many of the stronger
departments. Hence the question of good teaching forced itself rapidly
to the front. It was commonly recognized that the students of pure
mathematics profit by a study of various applications of the theories
under consideration, and that the students who expect to work along
special technical lines gain by getting broad and comprehensive views
of the fundamental mathematical questions involved. Moreover, it was
also recognized that the investigational work of the instructors would
gain by the broader scholarship secured through greater emphasis on
applications and the historic setting of the various problems under
consideration.

To these fundamental elements relating to the improvement of college
teaching there should perhaps be added one arising from the
recognition of the fact that the number of men possessing excellent
mathematical research ability was much smaller than the number of
positions in the mathematical departments of our colleges and
universities. The publication of inferior research results is of
questionable value. On the other hand, many who could have done
excellent work as teachers by devoting most of their energies to this
work became partial failures both as teachers and as investigators
through their ambition to excel in the latter direction.

=Range of subjects and preparation of students=

It should be emphasized that the college and university teachers of
mathematics have to deal with a wide range of subjects and conditions,
especially where graduate work is carried on. Advanced graduate
students have needs which differ widely from those of the freshmen who
aim to become engineers. This wide range of conditions calls for
unusual adaptability on the part of the college and university
teacher. This range is much wider than that which confronts the
teachers in the high school, and the lack of sufficient adaptability
on the part of some of the college teachers is probably responsible
for the common impression that some of the poorest mathematical
teaching is done in the colleges. It is doubtless equally true that
some of the very best mathematical teaching is to be found in these
institutions.

In some of the colleges there has been a tendency to diminish the
individual range of mathematical teaching by explicitly separating the
undergraduate work and the more advanced work. For instance, in Johns
Hopkins University, L. S. Hulburt was appointed "Professor of
Collegiate Mathematics" in 1897, with the understanding that he should
devote himself to the interests of the undergraduates. In many of the
larger universities the younger members of the department usually
teach only undergraduate courses, while some of the older members
devote either all or most of their time to the advanced work; but
there is no uniformity in this direction, and the present conditions
are often unsatisfactory.

The undergraduate courses in mathematics in the American colleges and
universities differ considerably. The normal beginning courses now
presuppose a year of geometry and a year and a half of algebra in
addition to the elementary courses in arithmetic, but much higher
requirements are sometimes imposed, especially for engineering
courses. In recent years several of the largest universities have
reduced the minimum admission requirement in algebra to one year's
work, but students entering with this minimum preparation are
sometimes not allowed to proceed with the regular mathematical classes
in the university.

=Variety of college courses in mathematics=

Freshmen courses in mathematics differ widely, but the most common
subjects are advanced algebra, plane trigonometry, and solid geometry.
The most common subjects of a somewhat more advanced type are plane
analytic geometry, differential and integral calculus, and spherical
trigonometry. Beyond these courses there is much less uniformity,
especially in those institutions which aim to complete a well-rounded
undergraduate mathematical course rather than to prepare for graduate
work. Among the most common subjects beyond those already named are
differential equations, theory of equations, solid analytic geometry,
and mechanics.

A very important element affecting the mathematical courses in recent
years is the rapid improvement in the training of our teachers in the
secondary schools. This has led to the rapid introduction of courses
which aim to lead up to broad views in regard to the fundamental
subjects. In particular, courses relating to the historical
development of concepts involved therein are receiving more and more
attention. Indirect historical sources have become much more plentiful
in recent years through the publication of various translations of
ancient works and through the publication of extensive historical
notes in the _Encyclopédie des Sciences Mathématiques_ and in other
less extensive works of reference.

The problem presented by those who are preparing to teach mathematics
may at first appear to differ widely from that presented by those who
expect to become engineers. The latter are mostly interested in
obtaining from their mathematical courses a powerful equipment for
doing things, while the former take more interest in those
developments which illumine and clarify the elements of their subject.
Hence the prospective teacher and the prospective engineer might
appear to have conflicting mathematical interests. As a matter of
fact, these interests are not conflicting. The prospective teacher is
greatly benefited by the emphasis on the serviceableness of
mathematics, and the prospective engineer finds that the generality
and clarity of view sought by the prospective teacher is equally
helpful to him in dealing with new applications. Hence these two
classes of students can well afford to pursue many of the early
mathematical courses together, while the finishing courses should
usually be different.

The rapidly growing interest in statistical methods and in insurance,
pensions, and investments has naturally directed special attention to
the underlying mathematical theories, especially to the theory of
probability. Some institutions have organized special mathematical
courses relating to these subjects and have thus extended still
further the range of undergraduate subjects covered by the
mathematical departments. The rapidly growing emphasis on college
education specially adapted to the needs of the prospective business
man has recently led to a greater emphasis on some of these subjects
in several institutions.

The range of mathematical subjects suited for graduate students is
unlimited, but it is commonly assumed to be desirable that the
graduate student should pursue at least one general course in each one
of broader subjects such as the theory of numbers, higher algebra,
theory of functions, and projective geometry, before he begins to
specialize along a particular line. It is usually taken for granted
that the undergraduate courses in mathematics should not presuppose a
knowledge of any language besides English, but graduate work in this
subject cannot be successfully pursued in many cases without a reading
knowledge of the three other great mathematical languages; viz.,
French, German, and Italian. Hence the study of graduate mathematics
necessarily presupposes some linguistic training in addition to an
acquaintance with the elements of fundamental mathematical subjects.

Historical studies make especially large linguistic demands in case
these studies are not largely restricted to predigested material. This
is particularly true as regards the older historical material. In the
study of contemporary mathematical history the linguistic
prerequisites are about the same as those relating to the study of
other modern mathematical subjects. With the rapid spread of
mathematical research activity during recent years there has come a
growing need of more extensive linguistic attainments on the part of
those mathematicians who strive to keep in touch with progress along
various lines. For instance, a thriving Spanish national mathematical
society was organized in 1911 at Madrid, Spain, and in March, 1916, a
new mathematical journal entitled _Revista de Matematicas_ was started
at Buenos Aires, Argentine Republic. Hence a knowledge of Spanish is
becoming more useful to the mathematical student. Similar activities
have recently been inaugurated in other countries.

=History of college mathematics=

Until about the beginning of the nineteenth century the courses in
college mathematics did not usually presuppose a mathematical
foundation carefully prepared for a superstructure. According to M.
Gebhardt, the function of teaching elementary mathematics in Germany
was assumed by the gymnasiums during the years from 1810 to 1830.[5]
Before this time the German universities usually gave instruction in
the most elementary mathematical subjects. In our own country, Yale
University instituted a mathematical entrance requirement under the
title of arithmetic as early as 1745, but at Harvard University no
mathematics was required for admission before 1803.

On the other hand, _L'Ecole Polytechnique_ of Paris, which occupies a
prominent place in the history of college mathematics, had very high
admission requirements in mathematics from the start. According to a
law enacted in 1795, the candidates for admission were required to
pass an examination in arithmetic; in algebra, including the solution
of equations of the first four degrees and the theory of series; and
in geometry, including trigonometry, the applications of algebra to
geometry, and conic sections.[6] It should be noted that these
requirements are more extensive than the usual present mathematical
requirements of our leading universities and technical schools, but
_L'Ecole Polytechnique_ laid special emphasis on mathematics and
physics and became the world's prototype of strong technical
institutions.

The influence of _L'Ecole Polytechnique_ was greatly augmented by the
publication of a regular periodical entitled _Journal de l'Ecole
Polytechnique_, which was started in 1795 and is still being
published. A number of the courses of lectures delivered at _L'Ecole
Polytechnique_ and at _L'Ecole Normale_ appeared in the early volumes
of this journal. The fact that some of these courses were given by
such eminent mathematicians as J. L. Lagrange, G. Monge, and P. S.
Laplace is sufficient guarantee of their great value and of their good
influence on the later textbooks along similar lines. In particular,
it may be noted that G. Monge gave the first course in descriptive
geometry at _L'Ecole Normale_ in 1795, and he was also for a number of
years one of the most influential teachers at _L'Ecole Polytechnique_.

A most fundamental element in the history of college mathematics is
the broadening of the scope of the college work. As long as college
students were composed almost entirely of prospective preachers,
lawyers, and physicians, there was comparatively little interest taken
in mathematics. It is true that the mental disciplinary value of
mathematics was emphasized by many, but this supposed value did not
put any real life into mathematical work. The dead abstract reasonings
of Euclid's _Elements_, or even the number speculations of the ancient
Pythagoreans, were enough to satisfy most of those who were looking to
mathematics as a subject suitable for mental gymnastics.

On the other hand, when the colleges began to train men for other
lines of work, when the applications of steam led to big enterprises,
like the building of railroads and large ocean steamers, mathematics
became a living subject whose great direct usefulness in practical
affairs began to be commonly recognized. Moreover, it became apparent
that there was great need of mathematical growth, since mathematics
was no longer to be used merely as mental Indian clubs or dumb-bells,
where a limited assortment would answer all practical needs, but as an
implement of mental penetration into the infinitude of barriers which
have checked progress along various lines and seem to require an
infinite variety of methods of penetration.

The American colleges were naturally somewhat slower than some of
those of Europe in adapting themselves to the changed conditions, but
the rapidity of the changes in our country may be inferred from the
fact that in the first half of the nineteenth century Harvard placed
in comparatively short succession three mathematical subjects on its
list of entrance requirements; viz., arithmetic in 1802, algebra in
1820, and geometry in 1844. Although Harvard had not established any
mathematical admission requirements for more than a century and a half
after its opening, she initiated three such requirements within half a
century. It is interesting to note that for at least ninety years from
the opening of Harvard, arithmetic was taught during the senior year
as one of the finishing subjects of a college education.[7]

The passage of some of the subjects of elementary mathematics from the
colleges to the secondary schools raised two very fundamental
questions. The first of these concerned mostly the secondary schools,
since it involved an adaptation to the needs of younger students of
the more or less crystallized textbook material which came to them
from the colleges. The second of these questions affected the colleges
only, since it involved the selection of proper material to base upon
the foundations laid by the secondary schools. It is natural that the
influence of the colleges should have been somewhat harmful with
respect to the secondary schools, since the interests of the former
seemed to be best met by restricting most of the energies of the
secondary teachers of mathematics to the thorough drilling of their
students in dexterous formal manipulations of algebraic symbols and
the demonstration of fundamental abstract theorems of geometry.

=Relation of mathematics in secondary schools and college=

Students who come to college with a solid and broad foundation but
without any knowledge of the superstructure can readily be inspired
and enthused by the erection of a beautiful superstructure on a
foundation laid mostly underground, with little direct evidence of its
value or importance. The injustice and shortsightedness of the
tendency to restrict the secondary schools to such foundation work
would not have been so apparent if the majority of the secondary
school students would have entered college. As a matter of fact it
tended to bring secondary mathematics into disrepute and thus to
threaten college mathematics at its very foundation. It is only in
recent years that strong efforts have been made to correct this very
serious mathematical situation.

Much progress has been made toward the saner view of letting secondary
mathematics build its little structure into the air with some view to
harmony and proportion, and of requiring college mathematics to build
_on_ as well as _upon_ the work done by the secondary schools. The
fruitful and vivifying notions of function, derivative, and group are
slowly making their way into secondary mathematics, and the graphic
methods have introduced some of the charms of analytic geometry into
the same field.

This transformation is naturally affecting college mathematics most
profoundly. The tedious work of building foundations in college
mathematics is becoming more imperative. The use of the rock drill is
forcing itself more and more on the college teacher accustomed to use
only hammer and saw. As we are just entering upon this situation, it
is too early to prophesy anything in regard to its permanency, but it
seems likely that the secondary teachers will no more assume a yoke
which some of the college teachers would so gladly have them bear and
which they bore a long time with a view to serving the interests of
the latter teachers.

As many of the textbooks used by secondary teachers are written by
college men, and as the success of these teachers is often gauged by
the success of their students who happen to go to college, it is
easily seen that there is a serious temptation on the part of the
secondary teacher to look at his work through the eyes of the college
teacher. The recent organizations which bring together the college and
the secondary teachers have already exerted a very wholesome influence
and have tended to exhibit the fact that the success of the college
teacher of mathematics is very intimately connected with that of the
teachers of secondary mathematics.

While it is difficult to determine the most important single event in
the history of college teaching in America, there are few events in
this history which seem to deserve such a distinction more than the
organization of the Mathematical Association of America which was
effected in December, 1915. This association aims especially to
promote the interests of mathematics in the collegiate field and it
publishes a journal entitled _The American Mathematical Monthly_,
containing many expository articles of special interest to teachers.
It also holds regular meetings and has organized various sections so
as to enable its members to attend meetings without incurring the
expense of long trips. Its first four presidents were E. R. Hedrick,
Florian Cajori, E. V. Huntington, and H. E. Slaught.

An event which has perhaps affected the very vitals of mathematical
teaching in America still more is the founding of the American
Mathematical Society in 1888, called the New York Mathematical Society
until 1894. Through its _Bulletin_ and _Transactions_, as well as
through its meetings and colloquia lectures, this society has stood
for inspiration and deep mathematical interest without which college
teaching will degenerate into an art. During the first thirty years of
its history it has had as presidents the following: J. H. Van Amringe,
Emory McClintock, G. W. Hill, Simon Newcomb, R. S. Woodward, E. H.
Moore, T. S. Fiske, W. F. Osgood, H. S. White, Maxime Böcher, H. B.
Fine, E. B. Van Vleck, E. W. Brown, L. E. Dickson, and Frank Morley.

=Aims of college mathematics: methods of teaching=

The aims of college mathematics can perhaps be most clearly understood
by recalling the fact that mathematics constitutes a kind of
intellectual shorthand and that many of the newer developments in a
large number of the sciences tend toward pure mathematics. In
particular, "there is a constant tendency for mathematical physics to
be absorbed in pure mathematics."[8] As sciences grow, they tend to
require more and more the strong methods of intellectual penetration
provided by pure mathematics.

The principal modern aim of college mathematics is not the training of
the mind, but the providing of information which is absolutely
necessary to those who seek to work most efficiently along various
scientific lines. Mathematical knowledge rather than mathematical
discipline is the main modern objective in the college courses in
mathematics. As this knowledge must be in a usable form, its
acquisition is naturally attended by mental discipline, but the
knowledge is absolutely needed and would have to be acquired even if
the process of acquisition were not attended by a development of
intellectual power.

The fact that practically all of the college mathematics of the
eighteenth century has been gradually taken over by the secondary
schools of today might lead some to question the wisdom of replacing
this earlier mathematics by more advanced subjects. In particular, the
question might arise whether the college mathematics of today is not
superfluous. This question has been partially answered by the
preceding general observations. The rapid scientific advances of the
past century have increased the mathematical needs very rapidly. The
advances in college mathematics which have been made possible by the
improvements of the secondary schools have scarcely kept up with the
growth of these needs, so that the current mathematical needs cannot
be as fully provided for by the modern college as the recognized
mathematical needs of the eighteenth century were provided for by the
colleges of those days.

There appears to be no upper limit to the amount of useful
mathematics, and hence the aim of the college must be to supply the
mathematical needs of the students to the greatest possible extent
under the circumstances. In order to supply these needs in the most
economical manner, it seems necessary that some of them should be
supplied before they are fully appreciated on the part of the student.
The first steps in many scientific subjects do not call for
mathematical considerations and the student frequently does not go
beyond these first steps in his college days, but he needs to go much
further later in life. College mathematics should prepare for life
rather than for college days only, and hence arises the desirability
of deeper mathematical penetration than appears directly necessary for
college work.

=Advanced work in college mathematics=

Another reason for more advanced mathematics than seems to be directly
needed by the student is that the more advanced subjects in
mathematics are a kind of applied mathematics relative to the more
elementary ones, and the former subjects serve to throw much light on
the latter. In other words, the student who desires to understand an
elementary subject completely should study more advanced subjects
which are connected therewith, since such a study is usually more
effective than the repeated review of the elementary subject. In
particular, many students secure a better understanding of algebra
during their course in calculus than during the course in algebra
itself, and a course in differential equations will throw new light on
the course in calculus. Hence college mathematics usually aims to
cover a rather wide range of subjects in a comparatively short time.

Since mathematics is largely the language of advanced science,
especially of astronomy, physics, and engineering, one of the
prominent aims of college mathematics should be to keep in close touch
with the other sciences. That is, the idea of rendering direct and
efficient services to other departments should animate the
mathematical department more deeply than any other department of the
university. The tendency toward disintegration to which we referred
above has forcefully directed attention to the great need of
emphasizing this aspect of our subject, since such disintegration is
naturally accompanied by a weakening of mathematical vigor. It may be
noted that such a disintegration would mean a reverting to primitive
conditions, since some of the older works treated mathematics merely
as a chapter of astronomy. This was done, for instance, in some of the
ancient treatises of the Hindus.

=Mathematics and technical education=

The great increase in college students during recent years and the
growing emphasis on college activities outside of the work connected
with the classroom, especially on those relating to college athletics,
would doubtless have left college mathematics in a woefully neglected
state if there had not been a rapidly growing interest in technical
education, especially in engineering subjects, at the same time. Naval
engineering was one of the first scientific subjects to exert a strong
influence on popularizing mathematics. In particular, the teaching of
mathematics in the Russian schools supported by the government began
with the founding of the government school for mathematics and
navigation at Moscow in 1701. It is interesting to note that the
earlier Russian schools established by the clergy after the adoption
of Christianity in that country did not provide for the teaching of
any arithmetic whatever, notwithstanding the usefulness of arithmetic
for the computing of various dates in the church calendar, for land
surveying, and for the ordinary business transactions.[9]

The direct aims in the teaching of college mathematics have naturally
been somewhat affected by the needs of the engineering students, who
constitute in many of our leading institutions a large majority in the
mathematical classes. These students are usually expected to receive
more drill in actual numerical work than is demanded by those who seek
mainly a deeper penetration into the various mathematical theories.
The most successful methods of teaching the former students have much
in common with those usually employed in the high schools and are
known as the recitation and problem-solving methods. They involve the
correction and direct supervision of a large number of graded
exercises worked out by the students on the blackboard or on paper,
and aim to overcome the peculiar difficulties of the individual
students.

The lecture method, on the other hand, aims to exhibit the main facts
in a clear light and to leave to the student the task of supplying
further illustrative examples and of reconsidering the various steps.
The purely lecture method does not seem to be well adapted to American
conditions, and it is frequently combined with what is commonly known
as the "quiz." The quiz seems to be an American institution, although
it has much in common with a species of the French "conference." It is
intended to review the content of a set of lectures by means of
discussions in which the students and the teacher participate, and it
is most commonly employed in connection with the courses of an
advanced undergraduate or of a beginning graduate grade.

A prominent aim in graduate courses is to lead the student as rapidly
as possible to the boundary of knowledge along the particular line
considered therein. While some of the developments in such courses are
apt to be somewhat special or to be too general to have much meaning,
their novelty frequently adds a sufficiently strong element of
interest to more than compensate losses in other directions. Moreover,
the student who aims to do research work will thus be enabled to
consider various fields as regards their attractiveness for prolonged
investigations of his own.

=Preparation of the college teacher of mathematics.=

The fact that the college teacher has need of much more mathematical
knowledge than he can possibly secure during the period of his
preparation, especially if he expects to take an active part in
research and in directing graduate work, has usually led to the
assumption that the future teacher of college mathematics should
devote all his energies to securing a deep mathematical insight and a
wide range of mathematical knowledge.[10] On the other hand, students
prepared in accord with this assumption have frequently found it very
difficult to adapt themselves to the needs of large freshman classes
of engineering students entering upon the duties for which they were
supposed to have been prepared.

The breadth of view and the sweep of abstraction needed for effective
graduate work have little in common with accuracy in numerical work
and emphasis on details which are so essential to the young
engineering students. The difficulty of the situation is increased by
the fact that the young instructor is often led to believe that his
advancement and the appreciation of his services are directly
proportional to his achievements in investigations of a high order.
This belief naturally leads many to begrudge the time and thought
which their teaching duties should normally receive.

The young college teacher of mathematics is thus confronted with a
much more complex situation than that which confronts the mathematics
teachers in secondary school work. Here the success in the classroom
is the one great goal, and the mathematical knowledge required is
comparatively very modest. Possibly the situation of the college
teacher could be materially improved if it were understood that his
first promotion would be mainly dependent upon his success as a
teacher, but that later promotions involved the element of productive
scholarship in an increasing ratio.

The schools of education which have in recent years been established
in most of our leading universities have thus far had only a slight
influence on the preparation of the college teachers, but it seems
likely that this influence will increase as the needs of professional
training become better known. It is probably true that the ratio of
courses on methods to courses on knowledge of the subject will always
be largest for the elementary teacher, in view of the great difference
between the mental maturity of the student and the teacher, somewhat
less for the secondary teacher and least for the college teacher; but
this least should not be zero, as is so frequently the case at present,
since there usually is even here a considerable difference between the
mathematical maturity of the student and that of the teacher.

It may be argued that the future college teacher will probably profit
more by noting the methods employed by his instructors than he would
by the theoretic discussions relating to methods. This is doubtless
true, but it does not prove that the latter discussions are without
value. On the other hand, these discussions will often serve to fix
more attention on the former methods and will lead the student to note
more accurately their import and probable adaptability to the needs of
the younger students.

Among the useful features for the training of the future mathematics
teachers are the mathematical clubs which are connected with most of
the active mathematical departments. In many cases, at least, two such
clubs are maintained, the one being devoted largely to the
presentation of research work while the other aims to provide
opportunities for the presentation of papers of special interest to
the students. The latter papers are often presented by graduate
students or by advanced undergraduates, and they offer a splendid
opportunity for such students to acquire effective and clear methods
of presentation. The same desirable end is often promoted by reports
given by students in seminars or in advanced courses.

Prominent factors in the training of the future college teachers are
the teaching scholarships or fellowships and the assistantships. Many
of the larger universities provide a number of positions of this
type. It sometimes happens that the teaching duties connected with
these positions are so heavy as to leave too little energy for
vigorous graduate work. On the other hand, these positions have made
it possible for many to continue their graduate studies longer than
they could otherwise have done and at the same time to acquire sound
habits of teaching while in close contact with men of proved ability
along this line.

It should be emphasized that the ideal college teacher of mathematics
is not the one who acquires a respectable fund of mathematical
knowledge which he passes along to his students, but the one imbued
with an abiding interest in learning more and more about his subject
as long as life lasts. This interest naturally soon forces him to
conduct researches where progress usually is slow and uncertain.
Research work should be animated by the desire for more knowledge and
not by the desire for publication. In fact, only those new results
should be published which are likely to be helpful to others in
starting at a more favorable point in their efforts to secure
intellectual mastery over certain important problems.

Half a century ago it was commonly assumed that graduation from a good
college implied enough training to enter upon the duties of a college
teacher, but this view has been practically abandoned, at least as
regards the college teacher of mathematics. The normal preparation is
now commonly placed three years later, and the Ph.D. degree is usually
regarded to be evidence of this normal preparation. This degree is
supposed by many to imply that its possessor has reached a stage where
he can do independent research work and direct students who seek
similar degrees. In view of the fact that in America as well as in
Germany the student often receives much direct assistance while
working on his Ph.D. thesis, this supposition is frequently not in
accord with the facts.[11]

The emphasis on the Ph.D. degree for college teachers has in many
cases led to an improvement in ideals, but in some other cases it has
had the opposite effect. Too many possessors of this degree have been
able to count on it as accepted evidence of scientific attainments,
while they allowed themselves to become absorbed in non-scientific
matters, especially in administrative details. Professors of
mathematics in our colleges have been called on to shoulder an unusual
amount of the administrative work, and many men of fine ability and
scholarship have thus been hindered from entering actively into
research work. Conditions have, however, improved rapidly in recent
years, and it is becoming better known that the productive college
teacher needs all his energies for scientific work; and in no field is
this more emphatically true than in mathematics. Some departmental
administrative duties will doubtless always devolve upon the
mathematics teachers. By a careful division of these duties they need
not interfere seriously with the main work of the various teachers.

=The mathematical textbook=

The American teachers of mathematics follow the textbook more closely
than is customary in Germany, for instance. Among college teachers
there is a wide difference of view in regard to the suitable use of
the textbook. While some use it simply for the purpose of providing
illustrative examples and do not expect the student to begin any
subject by a study of the presentation found in the textbook, there
are others who expect the normal student to secure all the needed
assistance from the textbook and who employ the class periods mainly
for the purpose of teaching the students how to use the textbook most
effectively. The practice of most teachers falls between these two
extremes, and, as a rule, the textbook is followed less and less
closely as the student advances in his work. In fact, in many advanced
courses no particular textbook is followed. In such courses the
principal results and the exercises are often dictated by the teacher
or furnished by means of mimeographed notes.

The close adherence to the textbook is apt to cultivate the habit on
the part of the student of trying to understand what the author meant
instead of confining his attention to trying to understand the
subject. In view of the fact that the American secondary mathematics
teachers usually follow textbooks so slavishly, the college teacher of
mathematics who believes in emphasizing the subject rather than the
textbook often meets with considerable difficulty with the beginning
classes. On the other hand, it is clear that as the student advances
he should be encouraged to seek information from all available sources
instead of from one particular book only. The rapid improvement in our
library facilities makes this attitude especially desirable.

An advantage of the textbook is that it is limited in all directions,
while the subject itself is of indefinite extent. In the textbook the
subject has been pressed into a linear sequence, while its natural
form usually exhibits various dimensions. The textbook presents those
phases about which there is usually no doubt, while the subject itself
exhibits limitations of knowledge in many directions. From these few
characteristics it is evident that the study of textbooks is apt to
cultivate a different attitude and a different point of view from
those cultivated by the unhampered study of subjects. The latter are,
however, the ones which correspond to the actual world and which
therefore should receive more and more emphasis as the mental vision
of the student can be enlarged.

The number of different available college mathematical textbooks on
the subjects usually studied by the large classes of engineering
students has increased rapidly in recent years. On the other hand, the
number of suitable textbooks for the more advanced classes is often
very limited. In fact, it is often found desirable to use textbooks
written in some foreign language, especially in French, German, or
Italian, for such courses. This procedure has the advantage that it
helps to cultivate a better reading knowledge of these languages,
which is in itself a very worthy end for the advanced student of
mathematics. This procedure has, however, become less necessary in
recent years in view of the publication of various excellent advanced
works in the English language.

The greatest mathematical treasure is constituted by the periodic
literatures, and the larger colleges and universities aim to have
complete sets of the leading mathematical periodicals available for
their students. This literature has been made more accessible by the
publication of various catalogues, such as the _Subject Index_, Volume
I, published by the Royal Society of London in 1908, and the volumes
"A" of the annual publications entitled _International Catalogue of
Scientific Literature_. All students who have access to large
libraries should learn how to utilize this great store of mathematical
lore whenever mathematical questions present themselves to them in
their scientific work. This is especially true as regards those who
specialize along mathematical lines.

In some of the colleges and universities general informational courses
along mathematical lines have been organized under different names,
such as history of mathematics, synoptic course, fundamental concepts,
cultural course, etc. Several books have recently been prepared with a
view to meeting the needs of textbooks for such courses. College
teachers of mathematics usually find it difficult to interest their
students sufficiently in the current periodic literature, and one of
the greatest problems of the college teacher is to instill such a
broad interest in mathematics that the student will seek mathematical
knowledge in all available sources instead of confining himself to the
study of a few textbooks or the work of a particular school.

                                                   G. A. MILLER
  _University of Illinois_


REFERENCES

For articles on the teaching of mathematics which appeared during the
nineteenth century, consult 0050 _Pedagogy_ in the _Royal Society
Index_, Vol. I, Pure Mathematics, 1908. For literature appearing
during the first twelve years of the present century the reader may
consult the _Bibliography of the Teaching of Mathematics_, 1900-1912,
by D. E. Smith and Charles Goldziher, published by the United States
Bureau of Education, Bulletin, 1912, No. 29. More recent literature
may be found by consulting annual indexes, such as the _International
Catalogue of Scientific Literature_, A, Mathematics, under 0050, and
_Revue Semestrielle des Publications Mathématiques_, under V 1. The
volumes of the international review entitled _L'Enseignement
Mathématique_, founded in 1899, contain a large number of articles
relating to college teaching. This subject will be treated in the
closing volumes of the large French and German mathematical
encyclopedias in course of publication.


Footnotes:

[3] P. Zühlke. _Zeitschrift für Mathematischen und
Naturwissenschuftlichen Unterricht_, Vol. 45 (1915), page 483.

[4] Committee No. XII, American Report of the International Commission
on the Teaching of Mathematics, 1912, page 9.

[5] _Internationale Mathematische Unterrichtskomission_, Vol. 3, No. 6
(1912), page 2.

[6] _Journal de l'Ecole Polytechnique_, Vol. 1 (1896), part 4, page lx.

[7] F. Cajori, _Teaching and History of Mathematics in the United
States_, 1890, page 22.

[8] A. E. H. Love, _Proceedings of the London Mathematical Society_,
Vol. 14 (1915), page 183.

[9] V. V. Bobynin, _L'Enseignement Mathématique_, Vol. 1 (1899), page 78.

[10] The Training of Teachers of Mathematics, 1917, by R. C.
Archibald. Bulletin No. 27, 1917, United States Bureau of Education.

[11] Cf. M. Bôcher, _Science_, Vol. 38 (1913), page 546.



IX

PHYSICAL EDUCATION IN THE COLLEGE


=Lessons for physical education from the world war=

The events of the four years between the summer of 1914 and the winter
of 1918 have brought us to a full realization of the real significance
of physical education in the training of youth. America and her allies
have had very dramatic reasons for regretting their careless
indifference to the welfare of childhood and youth in former years.
Only yesterday, we were told that the great war would be won by the
country that could furnish the last man or fight for the last quarter
of an hour. America and her allies looked with a new and fearful
concern upon the army of young men who were found physically unfit for
military service.

With the danger of war past, there is no lack of evidence that we and
our allies will make practical application of this particular lesson.
It will be fortunate indeed if the enlightened people of the earth are
really permanently awake to the importance of the physical education
of their citizens-in-the-making.

Governmental agencies have already started the movement to guarantee
to the coming generation more extensive and more scientific physical
education. Public and private institutions are joining forces so that
the advantages of this extended program of physical education will be
enjoyed by the young men and young women in industry and commerce as
well as by those in schools and colleges.

It is to be hoped that the American college will do its full share and
neglect no reasonable measure whereby the college graduate may be
developed into the vigorous and healthy human being that the mentally
trained ought to be. It must be admitted that our findings by the
military draft boards, as well as other evidences secured through
physical examinations, are not such as to make the American college
proud of the quality or the extent of physical education which it has
given in the past. We must express our keen disappointment at the
prevalence of under-development, remediable defects, and unachieved
physical and functional possibilities in our college graduates.

=Aims of physical education=

Physical training is concerned with the achievement and the
conservation of human health. It has to do with conditioning the human
being for the exigencies of life in peace or in war. Its standards are
not set by a degree of health which merely enables the individual to
keep out of bed, eat three meals a day, and run no abnormal
temperature. Physical training is concerned with developing vigorous,
enduring health that is based upon the perfect function, coördination,
and integration of every organ of the human body; health that is not
found wanting at the military draft; health that meets all its
community obligations; health that is not affected by diseases of
decay; and health that resists infection and postpones preventable
death.

=Formulations of aims and scope of physical education in official
documents--By Regents of the State of New York=

Official statements and information from reliable sources indicate
that physical education and hygiene and physical training are regarded
by authorities as covering about the same general field. The general
plan and syllabus for physical training adopted by the Regents of the
University of the State of New York in 1916 interprets physical
training as covering "(1) Individual health examinations and personal
health instruction (medical inspection); (2) instruction concerning
the care of the body and the important facts of hygiene (recitations
in hygiene); (3) physical examinations as a health habit, including
gymnastics, elementary marching, and organized, supervised play,
recreation, and athletics."

=By national committee on physical education=

In March of 1918 a National Committee on Physical Education, formed of
representatives from twenty or more national organizations, adopted
the following resolutions:

     I. That a comprehensive, thoroughgoing program of health
     education and physical education is absolutely needed for all
     boys and girls of elementary and secondary school age, both rural
     and urban, in every state in the Union.

     II. That legislation, similar in purpose and scope to the
     provisions and requirements in the laws recently enacted in
     California, New York State, and New Jersey, is desirable in every
     state, to provide authorization and support for state-wide
     programs in the health and physical education field.

     III. That the United States Bureau of Education should be
     empowered by law, and provided with sufficient appropriations, to
     exert adequate influence and supervision in relation to a
     nationwide program of instruction in health and physical
     education.

     IV. That it seems most desirable that Congress should give
     recognition to this vital and neglected phase of education, with
     a bill and appropriation similar in purpose and scope to the
     Smith-Hughes Law, to give sanction, leadership, and support to a
     national program of health and physical education; and to
     encourage, standardize, and, in part, finance the practical
     program of constructive work that should be undertaken in every
     state.

     V. That federal recognition, supervision, and support are
     urgently needed, as the effective means, under the Constitution,
     to secure that universal training of boys and girls in health and
     physical fitness which are equally essential to efficiency of all
     citizens both in peace and in war.


=By five national organizations=

In December, 1918, five national organizations, assembled in regular
annual meeting, adopted resolutions which read in part as follows:

     First: That this Society shall make every reasonable effort to
     influence the Congress of the United States and the legislatures
     of our various states to enact laws providing for the effective
     physical education of all children of all ages in our elementary
     and secondary schools, public, institutional and private, a
     physical education that will bring these children instruction in
     hygiene, regular periodic health examinations and a training in
     the practice of health habits with a full educational emphasis
     upon play, games, recreation, athletics and physical exercise,
     and shall further make every possible reasonable effort to
     influence communities and municipalities to enact laws and pass
     ordinances providing for community and industrial physical
     training and recreative activities for all classes and ages of
     society.

     Second: That this Association shall make persistent effort to
     influence state boards of education, or their equivalent bodies,
     in all the states of the United States, to make it their
     effective rule that on or after June, 1922, or some other
     reasonable date, no applicant may receive a license to teach any
     subject in any school who does not first present convincing
     evidence of having covered in creditable manner a satisfactory
     course in physical education in a reputable training school for
     teachers.

     Third: And that this Association hereby directs and authorizes
     its president to appoint a committee of three to take such steps
     as may be necessary to put the above resolutions into active and
     effective operation, and to coöperate in every practical and
     substantial way with the National Committee on Physical
     Education, the division of physical education of the Playground
     and Recreation Association of America, and any other useful
     agency that may be in the field for the purpose of securing the
     proper and sufficient physical education of the boys and girls of
     to-day, so that they may to-morrow constitute a nation of men and
     women of normal physical growth, normal physical development and
     normal functional resource, practicing wise habits of health
     conservation and possessed of greater consequent vitality, larger
     endurance, longer lives and more complete happiness--the most
     precious assets of a nation.


=By the United States Interdepartmental Social Hygiene Board=

In January, 1919, the United States Interdepartmental Social Hygiene
Board suggested the following organization of a department of hygiene
for the purpose of establishing such a department in at least one
normal school, college, or university training school for teachers in
each state of the Union.

SUGGESTED ORGANIZATION OF A DEPARTMENT OF HYGIENE

I. _Division of Informational Hygiene._ (Stressing in each of its
    several divisions with due proportion and with appropriate
    emphasis, the venereal diseases, their causes, carriers, injuries,
    and prevention):

    (_a_) The principles of hygiene. Required of all students at least
          twice a week for at least four terms.

      (1) General hygiene. (The agents that injure health, the carriers
          of disease, the contributory causes of poor health, the defenses
          of health, and the sources of health.)

      (2) Individual hygiene. (Informational hygiene, the care of the
          body and its organs, correction, and repair, preventive hygiene,
          constructive hygiene.)

      (3) Group hygiene. (Hygiene of the home and the family, school
          hygiene, occupational hygiene, community hygiene.)

      (4) Intergroup hygiene. (Interfamily, intercommunity, interstate,
          and international hygiene.)

    (_b_) Principles of physical training. (Gymnastics, exercise,
          athletics, recreation, and play.) Required of all students. To be
          given at least twice a week for two terms in the Junior or Senior
          Years.

    (_c_) Health examinations--

      (1) Medical examination required each half year of every student.
         (Making reasonable provisions for a private, personal,
         confidential relationship between the examiner and the student.)

      (2) Sanitary surveys and hygienic inspections applied regularly to
          all divisions of the institution, their curriculums, buildings,
          dormitories, equipment, personal service, and surroundings.

II. _Division of Applied Hygiene._

    (_a_) Health conference and consultations.

      (1) Every student advised under "c" above (health examinations)
          must report to his health examiner within a reasonable time, as
          directed, with evidence that he has followed the advice given, or
          with a satisfactory explanation for not having done so.

      (2) Must provide student with opportunities for safe, confidential
          consultations with competent medical advisors concerning the
          intimate problems of sex life as well as those of hygiene in
          general.

    (_b_) Physical training.

      (1) Gymnastic exercises, recreation, games, athletics, and
          competitive sports. Required of all students six hours a week
          every term.

      (2) Reconstructional and special training and exercise for students
          not qualified organically for the regular activities covered in
          "1" above. It is assumed that every teacher-in-training
          physically able to go to school is entitled to and should take
          some form of physical exercise.

III. _Division of Research._

    (_a_) Investigations, tests, evaluating measurements, records, and
        reports required each term covering progress made under each
        division and subdivision of the department, for the purpose of
        discovering and developing more effective educational methods in
        hygiene.

    (_b_) Provide facilities for the sifting, selection, and
        investigation of problems in hygiene that may be submitted to or
        proposed by the department of hygiene.

    (_c_) Arrange for frequent lectures on public hygiene and public
        health from competent members of municipal, state, and national
        departments of health, and from other appropriate sources.

IV. _Personnel requisite for such a department._--Men and women
    should be chosen for service in the several divisions of the
    Department, who have a sane, well-balanced, and experienced
    appreciation of the importance of the whole field of hygiene as
    well as of the place and relations of the venereal diseases.

    (1) One director or head of department. Must have satisfactory
    scientific training and special experience, fitting him for
    supervision, leadership, teaching, research, and administrative
    responsibility.

    (2) One medical examiner for men and one medical examiner for
    women. There should be one examiner for each 500 students. Must be
    selected with special care because of the presence of
    extraordinary opportunities to exercise a powerful intimate
    influence upon the mental, moral, and physical health of the
    students with whom such examiners come in contact.

    (3) One special teacher of physical training (a "Physical
    Director") for each group of 500 students. There must be a man for
    the men and a woman for the women students. The physical training
    instructors employed in this department should be in charge of and
    should cover satisfactorily all the directing, training, and
    coaching carried on in the department and in the institution in
    its relation to athletics and competitive sports. The men and
    women who are placed in charge of individual students and groups
    of students engaged in the various activities of physical training
    (gymnastics, athletics, recreation and play) should be selected
    with special reference to their wholesome influence on young men
    and young women.

    (4) One coördinator (this function may be covered by one of the
    personnel covered by "1," "2" or "3" above). Will serve to
    influence every teacher in every department on the entire staff of
    the institution to meet his obligations, in relation to the
    individual hygiene of the students in his classes and to the
    sanitation of the class rooms in which he meets his students. The
    coördinator should bring information to all teachers and assist
    them to meet more satisfactorily their opportunities to help
    students in their individual problems in social hygiene.

    (5) Special lectures on the principles and progress of public
    hygiene and public health. A close coördination should be secured
    between this department and community agencies like the Department
    of Health that are concerned with public hygiene.

    (6) Sufficient clerical, stenographic and filing service to meet
    the needs of the department.


In February, 1919, the field service of the National Committee on
Physical Education issued a tentative outline for a state law for
physical education, suggested for use in planning future legislation.
The purposes of physical education as stated in the preamble of this
law read as follows:

     1. In order that the children of the State of .... shall receive
     a quality and an amount of physical education that will bring to
     them the health, growth and a normal organic development that is
     essential to their fullest present and future education,
     happiness and usefulness; and in order that the future
     citizenship of the State of .... may receive regularly from the
     growing and developing youth of the Commonwealth a rapidly
     increasing number of more vigorous, better educated, healthier,
     happier, more prosperous and longer lived men and women, we, the
     people of the State of .... represented in the Senate and
     Assembly do enact as follows:


=By Legislative Committee of National Committee on Physical Education=

In February, 1919, the legislative committee of the National Committee
on Physical Education prepared a bill for federal legislation for the
purpose of assisting the states in establishing physical education in
their schools. This proposed federal law stated the purpose and aim of
physical education as follows:

     The purpose and aim of physical education in the meaning of this
     act shall be: more fully and thoroughly to prepare the boys and
     girls of the nation for the duties and responsibilities of
     citizenship through the development of bodily vigor and
     endurance, muscular strength and skill, bodily and mental poise,
     and such desirable moral and social qualities as courage,
     self-control, self-subordination and obedience to authority,
     coöperation under leadership, and disciplined initiative. The
     processes and agencies for securing these ends shall be
     understood to include: comprehensive courses of physical training
     activities, periodical physical examination; correction of
     postural and other remediable defects; health supervision of
     schools and school children; practical instruction in the care of
     the body and in the principles of health; hygienic school life,
     sanitary school buildings, playgrounds, and athletic fields and
     the equipment thereof; and such other means as may be conducive
     to these purposes.


An analysis of these several authoritative and more or less official
documents indicates very clearly a unanimity as to scope and aims of
physical education, for they all seek to promote and conserve, in the
broadest sense of the term, the health of the nation.

=Poor type of physical education in secondary schools intensifies problem
in the college=

The problem of physical education in the college is intensified by the
fact that freshmen come to their chosen institutions with a variety of
experience in physical training, but unfortunately this experience is,
too often, either inadequate or ineffective. The natural physical
training of the earlier age periods produces whatever neuro-muscular
development, whatever neuro-muscular coördination, whatever
neuro-muscular control, and whatever other organic growth,
development, or functional perfection is achieved by the young human
concerned. A program of physical training wisely planned with
reference to infancy, childhood, and early youth would include types
of exercises, play, games, and sports, that would perfect the
neuro-muscular and other functions far more completely than is
commonly accomplished through the natural unsupervised and undirected
physical training of those early age periods either in city or in
rural communities. The force of modern habits of life has led to the
destruction of those natural habits of work, play, and recreation that
gave a proportion of our forebears a fairly complete natural program
of physical exercise during the plastic or formative periods of life.
As a result, many students reach college nowadays with stunted growths
and with poorly developed, poorly trained, or poorly controlled
neuro-muscular equipment. Some of these matriculates are physically
weak. They lack alertness; their response is slow. Others are awkward
and muscularly inefficient, though their physical growth is
objectively--height and weight--normal or even above normal.

The College Department faces these problems through special provisions
made for the purpose of supplying a belated neuro-muscular training to
such cases. It often happens that successful training along these
lines is possible only through individual instruction of a most
elementary sort, taking the student through simple exercises that
ought to have been a part of his experience in early childhood.

=Individual needs of students augment problem of department of physical
education=

For the same reasons that are stated above, the College Department of
Physical Training finds it necessary to concern itself with individual
students who need special attention directed to specified organs or
groups of organs whose training or care could have been accomplished
ordinarily far better at an earlier period. These students present
problems of posture, lung capacity, and regional weakness.

=Supervision of athletics and recreation adds further to its problem=

The College Department of Physical Training finds also a significant
opportunity and an urgent duty in the fact that various types of
physical exercise are intimately associated with social, ethical, and
moral consequences. No other human activity gives the same opportunity
for the development of a social spirit and personal ethical standards
as do play, games, and sports of children and adolescents.
Unsupervised, these activities degenerate and bring unmoral practices
and an anti-social spirit in their wake.

Because of these opportunities and obligations, College Departments of
Physical Training are including within their programs and
jurisdictions more and more supervision of college athletics, and
assume an ever increasing rôle in the direction of recreational
activities of college students. It remains true, however, that these
influences of supervised play and athletics should operate long before
the individual reaches college age.

The intense interest of college students in athletic competitions,
united with the opportunity which athletics offer for social and
character training, has decided a number of colleges to turn athletic
training over to the Department of Physical Training. This preparation
for the supreme physical and physiological test must be built upon a
foundation of safe and sound health. There is no more fitting place
in the collegiate organization for these athletic and recreational
activities.

=Organization of Department of Physical Education=

The college departments that cover this field in whole or in part are
known by various names. We have departments of Physical Training; of
Physical Education; of Physical Culture; of Hygiene; of Physiology and
Physical Education; of Hygiene and Physical Education; of Physical
Training and Athletics, and so on.

An analysis of these college departments shows that they all concern
themselves with much the same important objects, although they differ
in their lines of greater emphasis. We find, too, that in some
colleges the department includes activities that form separate, though
related departments in other institutions.

The activities of such departments fall into three large divisions,
each one of which has its logical subdivisions. One of these large
divisions may be called the division of health examination. It has to
do with the health examination of the individual student and with the
health advice that is based on and consequent to such examination. The
second division has to do with health instruction covering the subject
matter of physical training. The third division covers directed
experiences in right living and the formation of health habits, and
includes the special activities noted above.

We often refer to the first division noted above as the division of
medical inspection, physical examination, or health examination; to
the second as hygiene, physiology, biology, or bacteriology; and to
the third as gymnastics, physical exercise, organized play,
recreation, athletics, or narrowly as physical training.

The prime purpose of collegiate physical training, then, is to furnish
the student such information and such habit-forming experiences as
will lead him to formulate and practice an intelligent policy of
personal health control and an intelligent policy of community health
control. The collateral and special objects of physical training vary
with the individual student under the influence of his previous
training and his present and future life plans.

The Collegiate Department of Physical Training is primarily concerned,
therefore, with the acquisition and conservation of human
health--mental, moral, and physical health. Because of his physical
training, the college man should live longer; he should meet his
environments obligations more successfully; he should be better able
to protect himself from, and better able to avoid, injury; he should
lose less time on account of injury, poor health, and sickness; he
should get well more rapidly when he is sick; he should be better able
to recover his health and strength after injury or illness; and he
should therefore give to society a fuller, happier, and more useful
life.

Such a department is concerned secondarily with (_a_) those special
defects of earlier physical training that bring to college, students
in need of neuro-muscular training and organic development, (_b_) with
social, ethical, and character training, and (_c_) with the
conditioning and special training of students for athletic competition
or for other extraordinary physical and physiological demands.

In the light of the above statements, the objects of physical training
may be summarized as follows:

     I. The fundamental and ever present object of physical training
        is the acquisition and conservation of vigorous, enduring health,
        the summated effect of perfect functions in each and every organ
        of the human body.

     II. The special objects of physical training vary in their needs
         for emphasis at different age periods and under the changing
         stresses of life. Among the more important of these special
         objects are:

     (1) General, normal growth. An object in the early age periods.

     (2) Neuro-muscular development, coördination, and control.
         Accomplished best in early age periods.

     (3) Special organic (anatomical and functional) development.
         Optimum period in childhood and youth.

     (4) Social, ethical, and moral training. Character building.
         Objects more easily secured in childhood and youth.

     (5) Preparation for some supreme physical and physiological test;
         e.g., athletic competition, police or fire service, military
         service. Most desirable training period in late youth and early
         maturity. Must depend, however, on the effects of earlier
         physical training.

     (6) The formation of health habits. Best accomplished in early
         life but commonly an important function of the College
         Department of Physical Training.

     (7) The conservation of health. Always an object, but more
         particularly so in the middle and later life.


THE MEDICAL EXAMINATION

In the American college of today, the student's first contact with the
Department of Physical Training is very likely to be in the examining
room. In the College of the City of New York[12] it has become the
established custom to require a satisfactory health examination before
admitting the applicant to registration as a student in the college.
Entering classes are enrolled in this institution at the beginning of
each term, and in each list of applicants there are always a few to
whom admission is denied because of unsatisfactory health conditions.

In each case in which admission is denied because of unsatisfactory
health, the individual is given careful advice relative to his present
and probable future condition, and every effort is made to help the
applicant plan his life so that he may be able at a later time to
enter the college. Of course, it occasionally happens that applicants
are found with serious and incurable health defects which make it very
improbable that they will ever be in condition to attempt a college
education.

=Scope of health examination=

The health examination of the student should cover those facts in his
family and personal health history that are likely to have a bearing
upon his present or future health, and the examination should include
a very careful investigation of the important organs of his body. This
examination calls for expert medical and dental service.

=How to conduct health examination=

The most useful examiner is he who is at the same time a teacher.
Nowhere else is a better or even an equally good opportunity given to
drive home impressively, and sometimes dramatically, important lessons
in individual hygiene. Through a pair of experimental lenses placed by
his examiner before his hitherto undiscovered visual brain cells, the
young student who has had poor vision and has never known it, may
obtain, for the first time, a glimpse of the beauty in his
surroundings.

The dental examiner who finds bad teeth and explains bad teeth to the
student whose health is being, or may be, destroyed by such teeth, has
before him all the elements necessary for very effective health
instruction.

The health examination should be a personal and private affair. It is
often best not to have even a recorder present. The student should
understand that whatever passes between him and his examiner is
entirely confidential.

All advice given a student at these examinations should be followed up
if it is the kind of advice that can be followed up. If the advice
involves the attention of a dentist or treatment by a physician, time
should be allowed for making arrangements and for securing the
treatment necessary. After that time has elapsed the student should be
called upon to report with information from his parent or guardian, or
from his family health adviser, indicating what has been done or will
be done for the betterment of the conditions for which the advice was
originally given. In the hands of a tactful examiner--one who is a
teacher as well as an examiner--the student and parent, particularly
the parent, will coöperate effectively in this plan for the
development of health habits of the student. Less than three tenths
of one per cent of the parents of City College students refuse to
secure special health attention for their boys when we do so advise.

These examinations should be repeated at reasonable intervals
throughout the entire college course. We have found in the College of
the City of New York that a repetition every term is none too
frequent. Visual defects, dental defects, evidences of heart trouble
and signs of pulmonary tuberculosis, and other defects, not
infrequently arise in cases of individuals who have been seen several
times before without showing any evidence of poor health. It is hoped
that these repeated examinations may lead to the continuation of such
habits of bodily care in postgraduate years.

A careful and concise record must be made covering the main facts of
each examination and of each conference with the student subsequent to
his examination. These memoranda enable the examiner at each later
examination to talk to the student with a knowledge of what has been
found and what has been said and what has been done on preceding
examinations, and on preceding follow-up conferences. As a result, the
examiner-teacher is in position to be very much more useful not only
because of significant facts before him concerning the student with
whom he is talking, but also because of the greater confidence which
the student will necessarily have in an examiner who is obviously
interested in him and who possesses such an accurate record of his
health history.

These examinations should apply to every student in a college or a
university, regardless of the division to which he belongs. The need
for health instruction or for the establishment of health habits, in
order that one may be physically trained for the exigencies of life,
is not peculiar to any student age period or to any academic or
technicological group, or to a college for men or a college for women.

One of the dangers present in these college examinations is the
tendency of the examiner to become more interested in the number of
students examined and the number of diagnoses made than in the good
influence he may have upon the health future of the student.

Every "case" should be treated by the health examiner as if it were
the first and only case on hand for the day. The student certainly
classifies the examiner as the first and only one he has had that day.
The examiner should plan to make every contact he has with a student a
help to the student.


HEALTH INSTRUCTION

A second large division of physical training deals with health
instruction. As has been pointed out above, the division of health
examination produces a very important and very useful opportunity for
individual health instruction.

=Content of hygiene instruction=

Hygiene, however, is presented commonly to groups of students in class
organization rather than individually. Anatomy, physiology,
psychology, bacteriology, pathology, general hygiene, individual
hygiene, group hygiene, and intergroup hygiene are sciences, or
combinations of sciences, from which physical training draws its
facts. These sciences and those phases of economics and sociology that
have to do with the economic and social influences of health and
disease, of physical efficiency and physical degeneracy, supply
physical training with its general subject matter.

Health instruction, then, as a part of physical training, draws its
content from these sources. A logical plan of class instruction would,
therefore, include the elements of anatomy, physiology, psychology,
bacteriology (and general parasitology), pathology, economics, and
sociology, as a basis for a more complete presentation of the facts of
general hygiene, individual hygiene, group hygiene, and intergroup
hygiene.

=Method of health instruction=

The most satisfactory presentation of these subjects involves the
grouping of students into small classes, the employment of laboratory
methods, the use of reference libraries, and the assignment of
problems for investigation and study, with a general group discussion
of these problems.

Unfortunately, college classes are large and the number of teachers
employed in the department of physical training, or in those
departments from which physical training draws its science and its
philosophy, is small, so that it is impractical to plan to give this
instruction to small groups of students covering this range of subject
matter.

As a result, the lecture method with its obvious defects and
shortcomings is the common medium for the health instruction of
college students organized into classes. The more intimate and
detailed instruction in these subjects is secured in special courses
and in professional schools.

In the College of the City of New York, we expect that students who
come to us from high schools and preparatory schools have had the
elements of anatomy and physiology either in courses on those subjects
or in courses in biology.[13] Our health instruction, therefore, has
been developed along the lines of lectures on general hygiene,
individual hygiene, group hygiene, and intergroup hygiene running
through the four terms of the freshman and sophomore years.

These lectures are given in periods of from ten to fifteen minutes
each, preceding class work in various forms of physical exercise. They
are often called "floor talks." The shortness of the presentation
favors vigor of address; necessitates a concise organization of
material and a clarity and brevity of statement; and is more likely to
command student attention and concentration. It has, however, its
obvious defects. In these lectures persistent effort is made to
influence the daily habits of the student. The lecture content is
selected with reference to the practical problems of the daily life of
the individual and of the community of which he is a part. It is
obvious that the amount of time devoted to the presentation of the subject
matter is utterly inadequate.

Short written tests are given once each month, and a longer written
test is given at the end of each term. These examinations stimulate
the student to organize his information and make it more completely
his own property. The classes are too large[14] and the instructional
force relatively too small to permit the assignment of references,
presentation of reports, and the conduct of investigations.

Further instruction in physiology and bacteriology is secured in this
institution through elective courses open to students in their junior
and senior years. These elective courses, however, are not planned
primarily for the health education of the student, but rather for his
partial preparation as a teacher of physical training, a student of
medicine, a scientific specialist, or for public health work.


HEALTH-FORMING ACTIVITIES OF THE DEPARTMENT OF PHYSICAL EDUCATION

The third division of activities contains the health-habit-forming
influences covered by the Department of Physical Training. These
influences are formed partly in connection with the follow-up
activities associated with the health examinations and advice noted
above; partly through impressions made by way of individual and class
instruction concerning the laws of health (also noted above); and
partly through systematic class work, group work, and individual work
in gymnastics, organized recreation, games, play, and athletics.

The student who has been given a health examination each term
throughout his college career will be very likely to continue the
practice as a habit after graduation. This habit will follow more
surely if the examiner has been a real health teacher and not a
perfunctory recorder of observations made upon the student. A lack of
sympathy and tact may easily prejudice the student against the
examination.

The student who has been led regularly to care for defects of one sort
or another; whose contact with his examiner-teacher in conferences
following up the advice that has been given at the time of examination
has been accompanied by the right sort of explanation and mutual
understanding, will be more likely to continue to exercise that sort
of care for the welfare of his body after he is no longer under the
influence of the college.

The student who has seen the application of class health talks to his
everyday problems is likely to be influenced to the practice of
consequent health habits, particularly if those short lectures serve
to correlate his various habit-forming experiences while in college.

And finally, the student who is brought into contact with regular
systematic exercise may, if the exercise is attractive and
interesting, achieve a health habit that will be carried out into his
postgraduate life.

The existence of the Department of Physical Training would be amply
justified if its influence upon the health and vigor of the student
were limited to the period of his stay in college. The full success of
this department, however, like that of all other college departments,
must be measured by its influence upon the life of the student after
he has left college. The formation of lasting health habits is,
therefore, the most important object of this department.

=Place of physical exercise in program for physical education=

Regular appropriate physical exercise is one of our most important
health habits. It is perhaps safe to say that for the average
individual it is the most important health habit. This is true because
of its intimate and impressive influence upon all the fundamental
organic functions of the body. Physical exercise in the American
college is provided either as organized class work in the gymnasium,
or by means of voluntary recreational opportunities, or through
athletics.

=Class work in physical exercise=

Class work may include: marching, mass drills with or without light
apparatus, work on heavy apparatus, games, dancing, swimming, and
track and field work. This class work may be indoors or outdoors,
depending on the season or climate.

=Additional facilities for physical exercise=

Voluntary recreational opportunities are offered through free mass
drills open to all students who may desire to take them regularly or
irregularly; through open periods for apparatus work; and through
facilities and space for games, swimming, mass athletics, and so on.

=Recreational activities and athletics=

Competitive athletics are typical of the American college.
Theoretically, athletics are open to all students. Practically, in
many of our colleges athletics are made available only to the student
with leisure time and exceptional physique. Consistent effort is being
made today by college authorities to provide opportunities for
intramural (interclass, intergroup, and mass) athletics for the whole
student body; at the same time preserving the desirable features of
the more specialized intercollegiate competitions.

=Inculcating habits of physical exercise=

Physical exercise in these various forms has its immediate and
valuable influence upon the health condition of the individual
student, if taken in sufficient quantity. It has its lasting and very
much more important influence in those cases in which physical
exercise becomes a habit. It has, therefore, become the increasing
concern of the college teacher of physical training to develop
activities in physical exercise that the student may use after
graduation. Teachers of physical training have become more and more
impressed with the importance of interesting exercise, not only
because interesting exercise is more likely to become habitual
exercise, but also because exercise that is accompanied by the play
spirit, by happiness and joy, is physiologically and therefore
healthfully of very much more value to the individual. The
relationship between cheerfulness and good health has become very
firmly established through the scientific researches of the modern
physiologist. We know that health habits which are associated with
cheerfulness and happiness are bound to be more effective.

=Opportunities for character building=

The teacher of physical training finds opportunity for incidental and
yet very important instruction leading to the formation of fine
qualities of character and fine standards of personal conduct. These
opportunities arise constantly in the various general types of
physical exercise found in the curriculum of the department of
physical training. They are especially present in those activities in
which competition occurs, as in play, games, and athletics. These
activities do not in themselves produce excellent qualities of
character or high standards of conduct, but the teacher--whether he be
called a coach or a trainer or a professor of hygiene--who sets a good
example and who insists that every game played, and every contest,
whether it be in a handball court between college chums or on the
football field between college teams, shall be clean and fair, is
using in the right way one of the opportunities present in the entire
college life of the student, for the formation of fine character.


SPECIAL EXERCISES FOR SPECIAL GROUPS

In any given group of college students one will find a number of
individuals in need of special or modified physical exercise. These
students may be grouped commonly under the following heads: (1)
undeveloped, (2) bad posture, (3) awkward, (4) originally weak, (5)
deformed.

Some of these students suffer from defects that are remediable, Some
of these defects are due to poor physical training in earlier years.
Some are the results of disease. All of them call for modified
exercise and recreation. The fact that a student may fall into one of
these groups in no way justifies the assumption that he is therefore
no longer subject to the laws of health or to the need for rational
health habits. As a matter of fact, such cases generally call for
greater care and attention in the formulation and operation of a
rational policy of right living.

Every student physically able to go to college is physically able to
exercise. No student in attendance on recitations anywhere can offer a
rational plea for exemption from exercise, The individual whose
physical condition contraindicates all forms of exercise needs
careful medical advice and probably needs hospital or sanitarium
treatment.

College Departments of Physical Training are planning for cases in
need of special or modified exercise, through the organization of
special classes and through individual attention. In the College of
the City of New York we attempt to group the weak students in a given
class, into squads of four such students with a squad leader, a
student. The awkward students are grouped in the same manner. The
exercise of the cripple and the student with serious organic weakness
is individualized. These special individualized cases are under the
direct supervision of a physician on the staff.


ORGANIZATION OF THE STUDENTS FOR PRESCRIBED WORK IN THE COLLEGE
COURSES

In this college, organized, directed physical exercise as outlined
above is covered in the division of physical training, the division of
recreation, and the division of athletics, all of which are
subdivisions of the Department of Hygiene.

The enrollment in the required classes in the division of Physical
Training varies from thirty in the smaller classes to over two hundred
in the larger. The total enrollment has been approximately eleven
hundred each term for several years. These courses are required of all
students during the first four collegiate terms. Each of these four
courses requires three hours a week, distributed over two or into
three periods, and credits the student with one half point toward
graduation. This time allowance is, however, inadequate.

The class organization in the division of the Department of Hygiene is
based on a unit composed of five students. Each of these units or
squads contains one student who is designated as the "leader" of that
unit.

Persistent effort is made to assign students of like physical
development and needs to the same squads. In this manner a single
class of a hundred young men will have a graduation on the basis of
proficiency which makes it possible for the teacher to come very near
to the rational application of exercise for the individual student.

These units or squads are organized into divisions, each division
being made up of four squads. Each division is under the supervision
and instruction of a member of the departmental staff. In any given
class, then, there is a regular instructor for each group of twenty
students, and a student leader for each group of four students. The
aim in this organization is to establish a relationship between the
instructor and his twenty students that will secure for him an
intimate knowledge of each young man, relating to his physical
training needs, general and special.

=A class period in physical exercise=

A typical class period is made up of a short health talk, 10 minutes;
a mass drill, 10 minutes; apparatus period, two changes, 20 minutes;
and a play period, 15 minutes. If the health talk is not given the
play period is lengthened.

The mass drills referred to above are made up of drill in marching and
in gymnastics with and without hand apparatus. These drills are graded
within the term and from term to term so that a desirable variety is
secured. They are devised for disciplinary, postural, developmental,
and health purposes. During the progress of the drill the instructors
present inspect the posture and work of the students in their
divisions.

The apparatus periods referred to include work on the conventional
pieces of gymnastic apparatus, with the addition of chest weights, an
indoor track, and a swimming pool. The squad organization for this
work gives opportunity for the development of student leadership which
is often of extraordinary educational value to the individual boy.
These periods, because of this squad organization, may be utilized for
such _special exercise_ emphasis as may be decided upon for any given
group of students. It is here that _special conditioning_ may be given
those young men who are planning for military training or who need
selected exercise for neuro-muscular development.

The play period in the regular class program is devoted largely to
looser games that contain a predominating element of big muscle
activities. Competition is a fairly constant factor. Here, again, our
squad unit permits us to assign selected groups of students to special
types of games. It is feasible, in this organization, to satisfy a
need for the training that is furnished by highly organized games,
fighting games, and by games and out-of-door events that develop
special groups of muscles and special coördinations.

A well-organized Collegiate Department of Physical Training could
coöperate very effectively with a Collegiate Department of Military
Training. The squad organization in apparatus periods and in play
periods offers the best possible avenue for a successful emphasis of
several of the very important phases of military physical training.

=Recreational facilities in addition to prescribed work=

The division of recreation in the Department of Hygiene in the College
of the City of New York, takes charge of all recreational and athletic
space and all recreational and intramural athletic activities in those
periods of the day in which regular class work does not take
precedence. Students of all classes are admitted freely throughout
their four collegiate years to these activities, and a studied effort
is made to increase their attractiveness as well as to secure from
them their full social and character-training values. Such values
depend to a very large degree upon the experienced supervision and
direction given these activities. It does not follow that the creation
of play opportunity is bound to produce good citizenship. The quality
of the product depends upon the quality of the man or men in charge of
the enterprise.

The most important mission of the Recreational Division is its purpose
to furnish the student lasting habits of play and recreation based
upon the physical development he has secured in his earlier
experiences in physical training. After all, one's physical training
should begin at birth and continue throughout life.

The Division of Athletic Instruction is concerned with all plans for
intercollegiate athletics, including organization, financing,
training, coaching, and scheduling. All these activities are under the
direction of members of the staff of the Department of Hygiene. There
is no one employed in this relationship who is not a member of the
staff. Constant attempts are made, in every reasonable way, to
accomplish the athletic ideals that have been set up by the National
Collegiate Athletic Association. Clean play, honorable methods, and
sportsmanly standards dominate the theory and practice of this
athletic instruction and supervision.

The scope and content of physical training which I have attempted to
present in these pages is brought out more clearly by the following
announcement of the Department of Hygiene of the College of the City
of New York:

                        HYGIENE (1916-17)

     The Department of Hygiene is made up of the divisions of Physical
     Training, Physiology, Bacteriology, Health Examination,
     Recreational Instruction, and Athletics.

     Through these divisions the Department attempts to train young
     men for the exigencies of life through the establishment of
     enduring habits of health examination and repair, health
     information and individual and community protection against the
     agents that injure health and cause disease, and through the
     establishment of wise habits of daily life.

     This organization gives opportunity for the development of
     neglected organic and neuromuscular growth, coördination and
     control; for the social, ethical, and moral training (character
     building influences) inherent in wisely supervised athletic and
     recreational experiences; and for the special conditioning that
     accompanies training for severe physical and physiological
     competition and other tests.

     Finally, preparation may be secured for life work along certain
     lines of research, certain medical sciences, various phases of
     public health, physical training and social work.

     In addition, this Department is concerned with all those
     influences within the College which affect the health of the
     student. Every reasonable effort is made to keep the institution
     safe and attractive to the clean, healthy individual.


  DIVISION OF PHYSICAL TRAINING

  1. _Course One._

      (_a_) Lectures. "Some of the common causes of disease."

      (_b_) Physical Exercise.

  i. Graded mass drills.

      (_a_) Elementary drills are used in order to develop obedience,
      alertness, and ready response to command, accurate execution,
      good posture and carriage and facility of control.

      (_b_) More advanced drills are given in which movements are made
      in response to commands. Strength, endurance, and coördination
      are brought into play.

  ii. Apparatus work. Continuation of graded exercises for squads of
  five students each.

  iii. Selected, graded, recreative indoor and outdoor games and play.

  iv. Swimming. Each student is required to learn to swim with more than
  one variety of stroke.

  Prescribed. Freshman, first term; three hours a week; counts 1/2.


  2. _Course Two._

      (_a_) Lectures. "The carriers of disease."

      (_b_) Physical Exercise.

  i. Graded mass drills. Two-count movements. These drills are
  continuations of, but more advanced than those given in the
  preceding term.

  ii. Apparatus work. Continuation of graded exercises for squads of five.

  iii. Selected, graded, recreative indoor and outdoor games and play.

  iv. Swimming. Each student is required to develop endurance in swimming.

  Prerequisite: Hygiene 1.

  Prescribed. Freshman, second term; three hours a week; counts 1/2.


  3. _Course Three._

      (_a_) Lectures. "The contributory causes and carriers of disease."

      (_b_) Physical Exercise.

  i. Graded mass drills. Four-count movements. More advanced work.

  ii. Apparatus work. Continuation of graded exercises for squads of five.

  iii. Selected, graded, recreative indoor and outdoor games and play.

  iv. Swimming. Diving, rescue and resuscitation of the drowning.

  Prerequisite: Hygiene 2.

  Prescribed. Sophomore, first term; three hours a week; counts 1/2.


  4. _Course Four._

      (_a_) Lectures. "Defenses against poor health and disease."

      (_b_) Physical Exercise.

  i. Advanced graded mass drills. Eight-count movements.

  ii. Advanced graded apparatus work. For squads of five.

  iii. Selected, graded, recreative indoor and outdoor games and play.

  iv. Swimming. Advanced continuation of requirements outlined for
  Courses 2 and 3.

  Prerequisite: Hygiene 3.

  Prescribed. Sophomore, second term; three hours a week; counts 1/2.


  _Modified Course._

  In each of the above required courses provision is made for those
  students whose organic condition may permanently disqualify them for
  the regular scheduled work. This special work is under the immediate
  direction of a medical member of the Staff.


  5. _Intermediate Physical Training._

  This course is planned to supply the student with such organic
  development and efficiency as will enable him to demonstrate
  successfully as a teacher various type exercises for classes in
  elementary and intermediate indoor and outdoor gymnastics, aquatics,
  games, play and athletics.

  Prerequisite: Hygiene 4. Three hours a week; counts 1/2.


  6. _Advanced Physical Training._

  This course is a continuation of Course 5, and is designed for the
  physical equipment of teachers of more advanced physical work.

  Prerequisite: Hygiene 5. Three hours a week; counts 1/2.


  7. _Class Management._

  This course supplies the practical instruction and experience needed
  for the training of special teachers in the management of elementary
  and intermediate classes in various forms of physical exercise.

  Prerequisite: Hygiene 6 and 32. Fall term, three hours a week; counts 1.


  8. _Class Management._

  This course is a continuation of Course 7. It is planned to give a
  training in the management of more advanced classes.

  Prerequisite: Hygiene 7. Spring term, three hours a week; counts 1.


  9. _Control of Emergencies and First Aid to the Injured._

  This course supplies instruction concerning the management and
  protective care of common emergencies. The instruction is practical
  and rational. It covers such emergencies as: sprains, fractures,
  dislocations, wounds, bruises, sudden pain, fainting, epileptic
  attacks, unconsciousness, drowning, electric shock, and so on.

  Prerequisite: Hygiene 32. Fall term, two hours a week; counts 1.


  10. _Theory and Practice of Individual Instruction in Hygiene and
  in Departmental Sanitation._

  Students taking this subject will be given practical first hand
  experience of special use to teachers; (a) in connection with health
  examination, inspection, conference, consultation, and follow up
  service carried on in the departmental examining room; and (b) in
  connection with the sanitary supervision carried on by the department.

  Prerequisites or Co-requisites: Hygiene 32, 41 and 48. Spring term,
  six hours a week in two periods of three hours each; counts 2.


  DIVISION OF PHYSIOLOGY

  32. _Elements of Physiology._

  This subject deals with the general concepts of the science of
  physiology, the chemical and physical conditions which underlie and
  determine the action of the individual organs, and the integrative
  relationship of the parts of the body.

  One lecture, one recitation and two laboratory hours a week; counts 3.

  33. _Special Physiology._

  A study of the fundamental facts of physiology and methods of
  investigation. The aim is to give a complete study of certain topics:
  the phenomena of contraction, conduction, sense perception and the
  various mechanisms of general metabolism. Laboratory work is arranged
  to show the methods of physiologic experimentation and to emphasize
  the necessity of using care and accuracy in their application.

  Spring term, two lectures and three laboratory hours a week; counts 3.

  34. _Physiology of Nutrition._

  The aim of this subject is to study broadly the metabolism of the
  human body. In the development of this plan the following topics will
  be considered: the food requirements of man, the nutritive history of
  the physiologic ingredients, the principles of dietetics and their
  application to daily living.

  Fall term, two lectures and three laboratory hours a week; counts 3.


  DIVISION OF BACTERIOLOGY

  41. _General Bacteriology._

  Lectures, recitations and laboratory work introducing the student to
  the technique of bacteriology and to the more important facts about
  the structure and function of bacteria. Special applications of
  bacteriology to agriculture and the industries are discussed, and
  brief references are made to the activities of allied microbes, the
  yeasts and molds. The general relations of bacteria to disease and the
  principles of immunity and its control are included.

  One lecture, one recitation and four laboratory hours a week; counts 3.

  42. _Bacteriology of Foods._

  This includes the bacteriologic examination of water, sewage, air,
  milk, the various food products together with the methods used in the
  standardization of disinfectants, a detailed study of yeast and
  bacterial fermentation and their application to the industries.
  Numerous trips to industrial plants will be made.

  Prerequisite: Hygiene 41.

  Fall term, one lecture and six laboratory hours a week; counts 3.

  43. _Bacteriology of Pathogenic Micro-organisms._

  This subject is devoted to the laboratory methods of biology as
  applied in the state and municipal boards of health. Practice will be
  given in the methods used for the diagnosis of diphtheria,
  tuberculosis, malaria, rabies, and other diseases caused by
  micro-organisms, together with a detailed study of the groups to which
  they belong.

  Prerequisite: Hygiene 41.

  Spring term, one lecture and six laboratory hours a week; counts 3.

  44. _Potable and Industrial Water._

  Very few industries are independent of a water supply. No one is
  independent of the source of his drinking water. Water varies in its
  usefulness for definite purposes.

  This subject differentiates between various waters, takes them up from
  industrial and hygienic standpoints, considers softening, filtering,
  purifying and water analysis.

  Work is divided into three groups.

    A. Industrial Water      )
                             } given in the Chemistry Department.
    B. Potable Water         )

    C. Water Bacteriology    )
                             } given in the Department of Hygiene.
       (microscopy of water) )

  Municipal students may elect any or all of the three groups.

  Prerequisite: Chemistry 4 and Hygiene 41. Chemistry 9 is desirable.

  Spring term, seven hours a week; counts 3.

  48. _Municipal Sanitation._

  Lectures, discussions and visits to public works of special
  importance. The principles which underlie a pure water supply and the
  means by which the wastes of the city, its sewage and garbage may be
  successfully disposed of, and the problems of pure milk and pure food
  supplies, the housing question with its special phase of ventilation
  and plumbing, and the methods by which a municipal board of health is
  organized to fight tuberculosis and other specific diseases will be
  studied.

  Fall term, two lectures and one field trip a week; counts 3.

  49. _Municipal Sanitary Inspection._

  _Professor B---- and Bureau of Foods and Drugs, New York City
  Department of Health._

  The seminar work of this subject is done in the College and the field
  work in company with and under the direct supervision of an Inspector
  of the Department of Health of the City. The subject is limited to six
  students each semester, and is intended for those planning to go into
  this branch of the City's service. The qualifications will be based
  upon individuality, personality playing an important part.

  Prerequisite: Hygiene 41 and 48 and Chemistry 19.

  Spring term, two seminar hours, one recitation and one inspection tour
  a week; counts 3.

  50. _Research._

  Seniors who have completed satisfactorily a sufficient amount of work
  in the Department may be assigned some topic to serve as a basis for a
  thesis which will be submitted as credit for the work at its
  completion. The student will receive the advice of the instructor in
  the subject in which the research falls, but as much independent work
  as possible will be insisted upon. The purpose is to introduce the
  student into research methods, and also to foster independence.


  DIVISION OF HEALTH EXAMINATION

  I. _Individual Instruction in Hygiene._

  This instruction is of a personal confidential character, and
  is given in the form of advice based upon medical history supplied
  by the individual, and upon medical and hygienic examinations
  and inspections of the individual.

  (_a_) Medical and hygienic history and examination.

  In this relationship with the student the Department attempts to secure
  such information concerning environmental and habit influences in the
  life of the student as may be used as a basis for supplying him with
  helpful advice concerning the organization of his policy of personal
  health control. The medical examinations are utilized for the purpose of
  finding remediable physical defects whose proper treatment may be added
  to the physiological efficiency and therefore to the health
  possibilities of the student.

  Prescribed: freshman, sophomore, junior, senior and special students.
  Once each term. No credits.

  (_b_) Hygiene inspections.

  These inspections are applied in the mutual interest of personal,
  departmental and institutional hygiene.

  Prescribed: freshman and sophomore.

  (_c_) Conferences.

  All students who have been given personal hygienic or medical advice are
  required to report in conference by appointment in order that the advice
  may be followed up.

  All individuals found with communicable diseases are debarred from all
  classes until it is shown in conference that they are receiving proper
  medical treatment, and that they may return to class attendance with
  safety to their comrades.

  All individuals found with remediable physical or hygienic defects are
  required to report in conference with evidence that the abnormal
  condition has been brought to the serious attention of the parent,
  guardian or family medical or hygienic adviser. Students failing to
  report as directed may be denied admission to all classes.

  II. _Medical and Sanitary Supervision._

  (_a_) Sanitary supervision.

  An "Advisory Committee on Hygiene and Sanitation" with the Professor of
  Hygiene as Chairman, has been appointed by the President. This committee
  has been instructed to "inquire from time to time into all our
  institutional influences which are likely to affect the health of the
  student and instructor, and to make such reports with recommendations to
  the President as may seem wise and expedient."

  (_b_) A medical examination is required of all applicants for admission
  to the College. Approval of the Medical Examiner must be secured before
  registration is permitted.

  (_c_) Medical consultation.

  Open to all students. (Optional.)

  (_d_) Medical examination of Athletes.

  Required of all students before admission to athletic training and
  repeated at intervals during the training season.

  (_e_) Treatment.

  Emergency treatment is the only treatment attempted by the Department.
  Such treatment will be applied only for the purpose of protecting the
  individual until he can secure the services he selects for that purpose.

  (_f_) Conferences.

  (See "c" under I.)

  (_g_) Laboratory: The Department Laboratories are equipped for
  bacteriological and other analyses. The water in the swimming pool is
  examined daily. The laboratory service is utilized to identify disease
  carriers, and in every other reasonable way to assist in the protection
  of student health.


  DIVISION OF RECREATIONAL INSTRUCTION

  Liberal provision is made by the College for voluntary recreational
  activities indoors and outdoors during six days of the week and
  throughout vacation periods. Emphasis is laid on recreation as a
  health habit and a means of social training.


  DIVISION OF ATHLETICS

  (1) _Athletic Supervision._

  Three organizations are concerned:

  (_a_) The Faculty Athletic Committee, which has to do with all
  athletic activities that involve academic relationships.

  (_b_) The Athletic Council, a committee of the Department of Hygiene,
  charged with the supervision of all business activities connected with
  student athletic enterprises.

  (_c_) The Athletic Association of the Student Body.


  (2) _Athletic Instruction._

  The Department utilizes various intramural and extramural athletic
  activities for the purpose of securing a further influence on the
  promotion of health habits, the development of physical power, and the
  establishment and maintenance of high standards of sportsmanly conduct
  on part of the individual and the group.

  At present the schedule includes the following sports: baseball,
  basket ball, track and field, swimming and water polo, tennis, soccer
  foot ball, and hand ball.

                                     THOMAS ANDREW STOREY, M.D.
  _College of the City of New York_


[It was hoped that it would be possible to include with Professor
Storey's chapter a number of forms and photographs calculated to serve
as aids in the organization and conduct of a College Department of
Hygiene. As Professor Storey's work is very distinctive, other
institutions which are striving to organize effective departments of
physical education would have found his experiences as graphically
depicted in these photographs and summed up in these charts extremely
helpful. Unfortunately it has proved impossible to print them here on
account of limitations of space, but all who are interested in
securing further information can obtain these valuable guides in the
introductory stages of the inauguration of a Department of Hygiene by
applying to the College of the City of New York. EDITOR.]


Footnotes:

[12] The construction of this chapter on the teaching of physical
training is based very largely upon the experiences and organization
of the Department of Hygiene in the College of the City of New York.

[13] This precollegiate instruction is, unfortunately, uniformly poor
in so far as it relates to health.

[14] The present enrollment in these classes, February, 1919, is
approximately 1500.



  PART THREE

  THE SOCIAL SCIENCES

  CHAPTER

    X  THE TEACHING OF ECONOMICS
           _Frank A. Fetter_

   XI  THE TEACHING OF SOCIOLOGY
           _A. J. Todd_

  XII  THE TEACHING OF HISTORY
        A. AMERICAN HISTORY
           _H. W. Elson_

        B. MODERN EUROPEAN HISTORY
           _Edward Krehbiel_

 XIII  THE TEACHING OF POLITICAL SCIENCE
           _Charles Grove Haines_

  XIV  THE TEACHING OF PHILOSOPHY
           _Frank Thilly_

   XV  THE TEACHING OF ETHICS
           _Henry Neumann_

  XVI  THE TEACHING OF PSYCHOLOGY
           _Robert S. Woodworth_

 XVII  THE TEACHING OF EDUCATION
        A. TEACHING THE HISTORY OF EDUCATION
           _Herman H. Horne_

        B. TEACHING EDUCATIONAL THEORY
           _Frederick E. Bolton_



X

THE TEACHING OF ECONOMICS


=Conception and aims of economics=

Even though economics be so defined as to exclude a large part of the
field of the social sciences, its scope is still very broad. Economics
is less homogeneous in its content, is far less clearly defined, than
is any one of the natural sciences. A very general definition of
economics is: The study of men engaged in making a living. More fully
expressed, economics is a study of men exercising their own powers and
making use of their environment for the purposes of existence, of
welfare, and of enjoyment. Within such a broad definition of economics
is found room for various narrower conceptions. To mention only the
more important of these we may distinguish individual economics,
domestic economics, business economics, governmental economics (public
finance), and political (or national) economics. Any one of these
subjects may be approached and treated primarily either with regard to
its more immediate financial, material, acquisitive aspects, or to its
more far-reaching social, psychical, and welfare aspects. These
various ideas appear and reappear most confusingly in economic
literature.

The aims that different students and teachers have in the pursuit of
economics are as varied as are the conceptions of its nature. The
teaching aims are, indeed, largely determined by those conceptions.
Moreover, the teaching aims are modified by still other conditions,
such as the environment of the college and its constituency, and such
as the temperament, business experience, and scholarly training of the
teacher. We may distinguish broadly three aims: the vocational, the
civic, and the cultural.

_The vocational aim_ is the most elementary and most usual. Xenophon's
treatise on domestic "economy" was the nucleus from which have grown
all the systematic formulations of economic principles. Vocational
economics is the economics of the craftsman and of the shop. Every
practical craft and art has its economic aspect, which concerns the
right and best use of labor and valuable materials to attain a certain
artistic, mechanical, or other technical end in its particular field.
Economics is not mere technology, which has to do with the mastery of
materials and forces to attain any material end. Vocational economics,
however, modifies and determines technical practice, which, in the
last analysis, is subject to the economic rule. The economic engineer
should construct not the best bridge that is possible, mechanically
considered, but the best possible or advisable for the purpose and
with the means at hand. The economic agriculturist should not produce
the largest crop possible, but the crop that gives the largest
additional value. The rapidly growing recognition of the importance,
in all technical training, of cultivating the ability to take the
economic view has led to the development of household economics in
connection with the teaching of cooking, sewing, decorating, etc.; of
the economics of farm management to supplement the older technical
courses in natural science, crops, and animal husbandry; of the
economics of factory management in connection with mechanical
engineering; of the economics of railway location in connection with
certain phases of civil engineering; and many more such special
groupings and formulations of economic principles with reference to
particular vocations and industries.

The ancient and the medieval crafts and mysteries undoubtedly had
embodied in their maxims, proverbs, traditional methods, and
teachings, many economic principles suitable to their comparatively
simple and unchanging conditions. The rapid changes that have
occurred, especially in the last half century, in the natural sciences
and in the practical arts have rendered useless much of this wisdom of
the fathers. Recently there has been a belated and sudden awakening to
the need of studying, consciously and systematically, the economic
aspects of the new dynamic forces and industrial conditions. Hence
the almost dramatic appearance of vocational, or technical, economics
under such names as "scientific management" and the "economics of
engineering." Viewed in this perspective such a development appears to
be commendable and valuable in its main purpose. Unfortunately, some,
if not all, of the adherents of this new cult of "economy" and
"efficiency" fail to appreciate how very restricted and special it is,
compared with the whole broad economic field.

_The civic aim_ in teaching economics is to fit the student to perform
the duties of a citizen. We need not attempt to prove here that a
large proportion of public questions are economic in nature, and that
in a democracy a wise decision on these questions ultimately depends
on an intelligent public opinion and not merely on the knowledge
possessed by a small group of specialists.

The civic conception of economics, seen from one point of view, shows
little in common with the vocational conception. Yet from another
point of view it may be looked upon as the vocational conception "writ
large" and is the art of training men to be citizens in a republic.
Good citizenship involves an attitude of interest, a capacity to form
judgments on public economic issues, and, if need be, to perform
efficiently public functions of a legislative, executive or judicial
nature. The state-supported colleges usually now recognize very
directly their obligation to provide economic training with the civic
aim, and, in some cases, even to require it as a part of the work for
a college degree. Often also is found the thought that it is the duty
of the student while obtaining an education at public expense, to take
a minimum of economics with the civic aim even if he regards it as in
no way to his individual advantage or if it has in his case no direct
vocational bearings. In the privately endowed institutions this policy
may be less clearly formulated, but it is hardly less actively
practiced. Indeed, the privately endowed institutions have been
recognizing more and more fully their fiduciary and public nature.
Their public character is involved in their charters, in their
endowments, in their exemption from taxation, and in their essential
educational functions. The proudest pages in their history are those
recording their services to the state.[15]

=Evaluations of aims of teaching economics in college=

_The cultural aim_ in economics is to enable the student to comprehend
the industrial world about him. It aims to liberate the mind from
ignorance and prejudice, giving him insight into, and appreciation of,
the industrial world in which he lives. In this aspect it is a liberal
study. Economics produces in some measure this cultural result, even
when it is studied primarily with the vocational or with the civic
aim. But in vocational economics the choice of materials and the mode
of treatment are deliberately restricted by the immediate utilitarian
purposes; and in economic teaching with a civic purpose there is the
continual temptation to arouse the sympathies for an immediate social
program and to take a view limited by the contemporary popular
interest in specific proposals for reform. Economics at its highest
level is the search for truth. It has its place in any system of
higher education as has pure natural science, apart from any immediate
or so far as we may know, any possible, utilitarian application. It is
a disinterested philosophy of the industrial world. Though it may not
demonstrably be a _means_ to other useful things, it is itself a
worthy _end_. It helps to enrich the community with the immaterial
goods of the spirit, and it yields the psychic income of dignity and
joy in the individual and national life. And as a final appeal to any
doubting Philistine it may be said that just as the cult of pure
science is necessary to the continual and most effective progress in
the practical arts, so the study of economics on the philosophical
plane surely is necessary to the highest and most lasting results in
the application of economics to the arts and to civic life.

The differences in aims set forth in this paragraph result in much of
the futile discussion in recent years regarding methods of teaching.
Enthusiastic innovators have debated at cross purposes about teaching
methods as if they were to be measured by some absolute standard of
pedagogic values, not recognizing that the chief differences of views
as to teaching methods were rooted in the differing aims. This truth
will reappear at many points in the following discussion. "What will
you have," quoth the Gods, "pay the price and take it."

=Place of economics in the college curriculum=

The place assigned to economics in the college curriculum in respect
to the year in which the student is admitted to its study is very
different in various colleges. In the last investigation of the
subject it appeared that the first economics course might be taken
first
  in the freshman year in 14 per cent of cases,
  in the sophomore year in 31 per cent of cases,
  in the junior year in 42 per cent of cases,
  in the senior year in 13 per cent of cases.[16]
Among those institutions giving an economic course in the freshman
year are some small and some large institutions (some of the latter
being Stanford, New York University, Pennsylvania, Bryn Mawr, and the
state universities of California, Iowa, Nebraska, North Dakota,
Colorado, Utah). Frequently the elementary course given to freshmen is
in matter and method historical and descriptive, rather than
theoretical, and is planned to precede a more rigid course in the
principles.[17]

The plan of beginning economics in the sophomore year is the mode
among the state universities and larger colleges, including nearly all
of the larger institutions that do not begin the subject in the
freshman year. This group includes Yale, Hopkins, Chicago,
Northwestern, Mount Holyoke, Wellesley, Vassar, and (after 1919)
Princeton.

The group of institutions beginning economics in the junior year is
the largest, but consists mostly of small colleges having some
advanced economics courses, but no more than can be given in the
senior year. It contains, besides, a few colleges of arts which
maintain a more strictly prescribed curriculum for underclassmen
(freshmen and sophomores), such as Dartmouth, Columbia, Smith, and
Simmons. It should be observed also that in a great many institutions,
where economics may be taken by some students in the first two years,
it is in fact scheduled as late as junior or senior year in the
prescribed courses of students in special departments such as
agriculture, engineering, and law. This statement applies doubtless to
many thousands of technical students.[18]

In view of these divergencies in practice we must hesitate to declare
that the subject should be begun at precisely this or that point in
the college course. These differences, to be sure, are in many cases
the result of accidental factors in the college curriculum, and often
have been determined by illogical departmental rivalries within the
faculty rather than by wise and disinterested educators studying the
merits of the case. But in large part these differences are the
expression of different purposes and practical needs in planning a
college curriculum, and are neither quite indefensible nor necessarily
contradictory in pedagogic theory. In the small college with a nearly
uniform curriculum and with limited means, a general course is perhaps
best planned for the senior year, or in the junior year if there is an
opportunity given to the student to do some more advanced work the
year following. At the other extreme are some larger institutions in
which the pressure of new subjects within the arts curriculum has
shattered the fixed curriculum into fragments. This has made possible
specialization along any one of a number of lines. Where this idea is
carried out to the full, every general group of subjects eventually
must make good its claim to a place in the freshman year for its
fundamental course. But inasmuch as, in most institutions, the
freshman year is still withheld from this free elective plan by the
requirement of a small group of general subjects, economics is first
open to students in the sophomore year. The license of the elective
system is of course much moderated by the requirement to elect a
department, usually at the beginning either of the sophomore or of the
junior year, and within each department both a more or less definite
sequence of courses and a group of collateral requirements are usually
enforced. Where resources are very limited it is probably best to give
the economics course in the last two years, but where several more
specialized courses in economics are given, it should be introduced as
early as the sophomore year. If a freshman course in the subject is
given it should be historical, descriptive, or methodical (e.g.,
statistical methods, graphics, etc.) rather than theoretical. The
experience (or lack of experience) and knowledge of the industrial
world, past and present, possessed by the average American college
student is such that courses of that kind meet a great need.[19]

=Time to be given to economics in a college curriculum=

Teachers of economics today are doubtless attempting the impossible in
compressing the present "general course" into three hours for two
semesters. No other department of a university attempts to treat in
such a brief time so broad a subject, including both principles and
applications. Such a course was quite long enough in the days when all
economic instruction was given by gray-haired theologians, philosophers,
mathematicians, and linguists, dogmatically expounding the _pons asinorum_
of economics, and quizzing from a dusty textbook of foreign authorship.
But now the growing and vigorous tribe of specialized economic teachers is
bursting with information and illustrations. Moreover, the range of
economic topics and of economic interests has expanded wonderfully.

The resulting overcrowded condition of the general course is possibly
the main cause of the difficulties increasingly felt by teachers in
handling that course satisfactorily. As a part of a general college
curriculum "general economics" cannot be satisfactorily treated in
less than three hours a week for two years. The additional time should
not be spent in narrow specialization but rather in getting a broader
understanding of the subject through economic history and geography,
through observation and description of actual conditions, through a
greater use of problems and examples, and through more detailed, less
superficial study of the fundamental principles. As a part of sixteen
years of the whole educational scheme from primary grade to college
diploma such a course would claim but 2-1/2 per cent of the student's
whole time, while the subjects of English, mathematics, and foreign
linguistics each gets about 20 per cent, in the case even of students
who do not specialize in one of these branches.

Of the replies[20] from nearly three hundred colleges to the question
whether economics was required for graduation, about 55 per cent were in
the affirmative. Unfortunately the question was ambiguous, and the
replies apparently were understood to mean generally that it was
required in one or more curricula, not of all graduates (though in some
cases the question was probably taken in the other sense). It is
noteworthy that more frequently economics is required in the smaller
colleges having but one curriculum, that of liberal studies. In the
larger institutions economics is usually not required of students in the
humanities, although of late it has increasingly been made a part of the
technical college curricula, especially in engineering and
agriculture.[21] So we are in a fair way to arrive at the situation
where no student except in those "liberal" arts courses can get a
college diploma without studying economics; only in a modern course in
the humanities may the study of human society be left out.

The economists have not been active in urging their subject as a
requirement. The call for increasing requirements in economics has
come from the public and from the alumni. The steady increase in the
number of students electing economic courses without corresponding
additions to the teaching forces has made the overworked professors of
the subject thankful when nothing more was done to increase by faculty
requirements the burden of their class work. It is charged and it is
admitted in some institutions that the standards of marking are
purposely made more severe in the economics courses than in courses in
most other subjects. The purpose avowed is "to cut out the dead
timber," so that only the better students will be eligible for
enrollment in the advanced economics courses. An unfortunate result is
to discourage some excellent students, ambitious for high marks or
honors, from electing courses in economics because thereby their
average grades would be reduced. In many cases, for this reason, good
students take the subject optionally (without credit), though doing
full work in it.

=Organization of the subject in the college curriculum=

We have already, in discussing the place of economics, necessarily
touched upon the organization of the courses. In most colleges this
organization is very simple. The whole economic curriculum consists of
the "general" course, or at most of that plus one or more somewhat
specialized courses given the next year. The most usual year of
advanced work consists of one semester each of money and banking and
of public finance. A not unusual plan, well suited to the situation
in a small college where economics takes the full time of one teacher,
is to give the general course in the sophomore year, and to offer a
two-year cycle of advanced work, the two courses being given in
alternate years, the class consisting of juniors and seniors. In this
plan the additional courses may be in transportation, in labor
problems, in trusts and corporations, and frequently of late, in
accounting. Ordinarily the "general" course itself involves a logical
sequence, the first term dealing with fundamental concepts and
theories, and the second term covering in a rapid survey a pretty wide
range of special problems. The majority of the students take only the
general course. Those who go on to more advanced courses retrace the
next year some of the ground of the second semester's work, but this
is probably for few of them a loss of time. Indeed, in such a subject
as economics this opportunity to let first teachings "sink in," and
strange concepts become familiar, is for most students of great value.
Yet the plan was adopted and is followed as a compromise, using one
course as a ready-made fit for the differing needs of two groups of
students. We have seen above (page 221) that preceding the general, or
systematic, course, there is in a number of colleges a simpler one. In
some cases[22] the experiment has been undertaken of studying first
for a time certain broad institutional features of our existing
society, such as property, the wage system, competition, and the
amount and distribution of wealth. The need of such a course is said
to be especially great in the women's colleges. If so, it is truly
urgent, for most young men come to college with very meager experience
in economic lines. Few, if any, teachers would deny that such an
introductory course preceding the principles is distinctly of
advantage.[23] Some would favor it even at the price of shortening
materially the more general course. But most teachers would agree that
together the introductory course and the general course should take
two full years (three hours a week, twelve college credit hours, as
usually reckoned), an amount of time which cannot be given by the
"floater" electing economics. And to accommodate both those who have
had the introductory course and those who have not, the general course
would have to be given in two divisions and in two ways. Again we come
to the thought, suggested above, that probably we are attempting too
much in too brief a time in the general course today. A longer time
for the study would permit of a sequence that would be more logically
defensible. It would begin with historical and descriptive studies,
both because they are fundamentally necessary and because, being of
more concrete nature, they may be given in a form easier for the
beginner to get. In this period a good deal of the terminology can be
gradually familiarized. Then should come the more elementary
analytical studies and fundamental principles, followed by a
discussion of a number of practical problems. In conclusion should
come a more systematic survey of general principles, of which most
students now get but a superficial idea. The work in the specialized
elective courses would then be built upon much firmer foundation than
is the case at present.

=Methods of teaching=

The main methods that have been developed and tested in the teaching
of undergraduate classes in economics may be designated as the lecture
method, the textbook method, the problem method. Any one of these may
be used well-nigh exclusively, or, as is more usual, two or more may
be combined in varying proportions; e.g., lectures with
"supplementary" (or "collateral") readings, with or without an
occasional meeting in a quiz section. Along with these main methods
often are used such supplementary methods as topical reports requiring
individual library work; laboratory exercises, as in statistics,
accounting, etc.; individual field work to study some industrial
problem; and visits, as a class, and with guidance, to factories and
industrial enterprises.

The choice of these particular methods of teaching is, however,
largely conditioned by the teacher's antecedent choice between the
deductive or the inductive forms of presentation. This is an old
controversy ever recurring. But it should be observed that the
question here is not whether induction or deduction is a greater aid
in arriving at new truth, but it is whether the inductive or the
deductive process is the better for the imparting of instruction to
beginners. In teaching mathematics, the most deductive of the
sciences, use may be made of such inductive aids as object lessons,
physical models, and practical problems; and _per contra_, in the
natural sciences, where induction is the chief instrument of research,
elementary instruction is largely given in a deductive manner by the
statement of general propositions, the workings of which are then
exemplified. The decision of the question which is the better of these
two pedagogic methods in a particular case, depends (_a_) partly on
the average maturity and experience of the class; (_b_) partly on the
mental quality of the students; and (_c_) partly on the interest and
qualifications of the teacher.

(_a_) The choice of the best method of teaching is of course dependent
on the same factors that have been shown above to affect the nature
and sequence of the courses. The simpler method leading to more
limited results is more suitable for the less mature classes; but the
scientific stage in the treatment of any subject is not reached until
general principles are discussed. If one is content with a vocational
result in economic teaching, stopping short of the theoretical,
philosophic outlook, more can be accomplished in a short time by the
concrete method. But such teaching would seem to belong in a trade
school rather than in a college of higher studies, and in any case
should be given by a vocational teacher rather than by a specialist in
social, or political, economy.

=Various methods evaluated=

(_b_) Every college class presents a gradation of minds capable
(whether from nature or training) of attaining different states of
comprehension. Of students in the lower half of the classes in
American colleges, it may be said broadly that they never can or will
develop the capacity of thinking abstractly and that the concrete
method of teaching would give better results in their cases. Therefore
the teacher attempts to compromise, to adopt a method that fits the
"mode," the middle third of the class, wasting much of the time of the
brighter (or of the more earnest) students, and letting those in the
lowest third trail along as best they can. This difficulty may be met
with some success where there are several sections of a class by
grouping the men in accordance with their previous scholarship
records. This grouping is beneficial alike to those lower and to those
higher than the average in scholarship.

(_c_) Quite as important in this connection as this subjective quality
of the students, is the characteristic quality of the teacher. A
particular teacher will succeed better or worse with any particular
method according as it fits his aim and is in accord with his
endowment and training. If he is himself of the "hard-headed"
unimaginative or unphilosophic type, he will of course deem effort
wasted that goes beyond concrete facts. He will give little place to
the larger aspects and principles of "political" economy, but will
deal exhaustively with the details of commercial economy. If the
teacher is civic-minded and sympathetic, he will be impelled to trace
economic forces, in their actions and interactions, far beyond the
particular enterprise, to show how the welfare of others is affected.
To do this rightly, knowledge of the conditions must be combined with
a deeper theoretical insight; but the civic aim operates selectively
to limit the choice of materials and analysis to those contemporary
issues that appeal at the time to the textbook writer, to the teacher,
or to the public. Still different is the case of the teacher who finds
his greatest joy in the theoretical aspects of economics, possesses a
clean-cut economic philosophy (even though it may not be ultimate
truth), and has faith in economics as a disciplinary subject. Such a
teacher will (other things being equal) have, relatively, his greatest
success with the students of greatest ability; he will get better
results in teaching the "principles" than in teaching historical and
descriptive facts. None will deny that this type of education has an
important place. Even in the more descriptive courses appeal should be
made to the higher intellectual qualities of the class, leaving a
lasting disciplinary result rather than a memory stored with merely
ephemeral and mostly insignificant information.

The teacher with colorless personality and without interest in, and
knowledge of, the world of reality, will fail, whatever be the purpose
of his teaching. The higher the teacher's aim, the farther may he fall
below its attainment. A college teacher whose message is delivered on
the mental level of grammar school children should, of course, score a
pretty high percentage of success in giving a passing mark to
sophomores, juniors, and seniors in American colleges. But is this
really a success, or is it rather not evidence of a failure in the
whole school curriculum, and of woful waste in our system of so-called
"higher" education? Are colleges for the training of merely mediocre
minds?

=Aim and attitude more fundamental than method of instruction=

These questions of aim and of attitude are more fundamental than is
the question of the particular device of instruction to be used, as
lecture, textbook, etc. Yet the latter question is not without its
importance. In general it appears that practice has moved and still
moves in a cycle. In the American college world as a whole each
particular college repeats some or all of the typical phases with the
growth of its economic department.

(1) First is the textbook, with recitations in small classes. (2)
Next, the lecture gradually takes a larger place as the classes grow,
until, supplemented by required readings, it becomes the main tool of
instruction, this being the cheapest and easiest way to take care of
the rapidly growing enrollment. (3) Then, when this proves
unsatisfactory, the lectures are perhaps cut down to two a week, and
the class is divided into quiz sections for one meeting a week under
assistants or instructors, the lecture still being the main center of
the scheme of teaching. (4) This still being unsatisfactory (partly
because it lacks oversight of the students' daily work, and partly
because the lecture is unsuited to the development of general
principles that require careful and repeated study for their mastery),
a textbook is made the basis of section meetings, held usually twice a
week, and the lectures are reduced to one a week, given to the
combined class, and so changed in character as to be merely
supplementary to the class work. The lectures are given either in
close connection week by week with the class work or bearing only a
general relation with the term's work as a whole. This may be deemed
the prevailing mode today in institutions where the introductory
course has a large enrollment.[24] (5) Another change completes the
cycle; the lecture is dropped and the class is divided, each section,
consisting of twenty to thirty students, meeting with the same teacher
regularly for class work. This change was made after mature
consideration in "the College" in Columbia University; is in operation
in Chicago University, where the meetings are held five times a week;
and has been adopted more recently still in New York University. There
have been for years evidences of the growing desire to abolish the
lecture from the introductory course and also to limit its use in some
of the special undergraduate courses. The preceptorial plan adopted in
1905 by Princeton University is the most notable instance of the
latter change.[25] Even in graduate teaching in economics there has
been a growing opinion and practice favorable to the "working" course
or "seminar" course to displace lecture courses.[26] Thus the lecture
seems likely to play a less prominent role, especially in the
introductory courses, but it is not likely to be displaced entirely in
the scheme of instruction.

=Selection of a textbook=

Numerous American textbooks on political economy (thirty, it is said)
have been published in the last quarter of a century, a fact which has
now and then been deplored by the pessimistic critic.[27] Few share
this opinion, however. The textbooks have, to be sure, often served,
not to unfold a consistent system of thought, but to reveal the lack
of one. But they have afforded to the teachers and students, in a
period of developing conceptions on the subjects, a wide choice of
treatment of the principles much more exactly worked out and carefully
expressed than is possible through the medium of lectures as recorded
in the students' hastily written notes.

Questions, exercises, and test problems are widely used as supplementary
material for classroom discussion.[28] Separately printed collections of
such material date back at least to W. G. Sumner's _Problems in
Political Economy_ (1884), which in turn acknowledged indebtedness to
other personal sources and to Milnes' collection of two thousand
questions and problems from English examination papers. With somewhat
varying aims, further commented upon below, and in varying degrees, all
teachers of economics now make use of such questions in their teaching
of both general and special courses. Unquestionably there are, in the
use of the problem method, possibilities for good which few teachers
have fully realized.[29]

The selection and arrangement of materials for supplementary readings
is guided by various motives, more or less intermingling. It may be
chiefly to parallel a systematic text by extracts taken largely from
the older "classics" of the subject (as in C. J. Bullock's _Selected
Readings in Economics_, 1907); or to provide additional concrete
material bearing mostly upon present economic problems (as in the
author's _Source Book in Economics_, 1912); or to supplement a set of
exercises and problems (as in F. M. Taylor's _Some Readings in
Economics_, 1907); or to constitute of itself an almost independent
textbook of extracts, carefully edited with original introductions to
chapters (as Marshall, Wright, and Field's _Materials for the Study of
Elementary Economics_, 1913, and W. H. Hamilton's _Readings in Current
Economic Problems_, 1914).

Whatever be the particular tool of instruction, whether lecture,
textbook with classroom discussion, problem study, or collateral
readings, its use may be very different according as the teacher seeks
to develop the subject positively or negatively, to present a single
definite and (if he can) coherent body of doctrines, or a variety of
opinions that have been held, among which the student is encouraged to
choose. Evidently the conditions determining choice in the case of
advanced courses are different from those in the introductory course.
For the beginner time is required in order that economic principles
may sink in, and so he is bewildered if at first he is introduced to a
number of theories by different authors. Materials that supplement the
general course of principles should therefore be limited to subject
matter that is descriptive, concrete, and illustrative. The beginner,
somewhat dazed with the variety of new facts, ideas, terminology, and
problems in the field into which he has entered, needs guidance to
think clearly step by step about them.[30] Not until the pupil has
learned to see and apprehend the simpler economic phenomena near him
can he be expected to survey the broader fields and to form
independent judgments concerning complex situations. He must creep
before he can run. In fact, teachers are often self-deceived when they
imagine that they are leaving students to judge for themselves among
various opinions or to find their way inductively to their own
conclusions. The recitation, in truth, becomes the simple game of "hot
and cold." The teacher has in mind what he considers the right answer;
the groping student tries to guess it; and as he ventures this or that
inexpert or lucky opinion he is either gently chided or encouraged.
At length some bright pupil wins the game by agreeing with the
teacher's theretofore skilfully concealed opinion. This is called
teaching by the inductive method.

Undoubtedly it is more desirable to develop in the student the ability
to think independently about economic questions than it is to drill
him into an acceptance of ready-made opinions on contemporary
practical issues. The more fundamental economic theory--the more
because its bearing on pecuniary and class interests is not close or
obvious--is an admirable organ for the development of the student's
power of reasoning. But to give the student this training it is not
necessary to keep him in the dark as to what he is to learn. The
Socratic method is still unexcelled in the discussion of a text and of
lectures in which propositions are clearly laid down and explained.
The theorem in geometry is first stated, and then the student is
conducted step by step through the reasoning leading to that
conclusion. Should not the student of economics have presented to him
in a similar way the idea or principle, and then be required to follow
the reasoning upon which it is based? Then, through questions and
problems,--the more the better, if time permits of their thorough
discussion and solution,--the student may be exercised in the
interpretation of the principles, and by illustrations drawn from
history and contemporary conditions may be shown the various
applications of the principle to practical problems. To get and hold
the student's _interest_, to fascinate him with the subject, is equal
in importance to the method, for without interest good results are
impossible.[31]

=Tests or teaching results=

It must be confessed that no exact objective measure of the efficiency
of teaching methods in economics has been found. At best we have
certain imperfect indices, among which are the formal examination, the
student's own opinion at the close of the course, and the student's
revised opinion after leaving college.

The primary purpose of the traditional examination is not to test the
relative merits of the different methods of teaching, but to test the
relative merits of the various students in a class, whatever be the
method of teaching. Every teacher knows that high or low average marks
in an entire class are evidences rather of the standard that he is
setting than it is of the merits of his teaching methods,--though in
some cases he is able to compare the results obtained after using two
different methods of exposition for the same subject. But, as was
indicated above, such a difference may result from his own temperament
and may point only to the method that he can best use, not to the best
absolutely considered. Moreover, the teacher may make the average
marks high or low merely by varying the form and content of the
examination papers or the strictness of his markings.

Each ideal and method of teaching has its corresponding type of
examination. Descriptive and concrete courses lend themselves
naturally to memory tests; theoretical courses lend themselves to
problems and reasoning. A high type of question is one whose proper
answer necessitates knowledge of the facts acquired in the course
together with an interpretation of the principles and their
application to new problems. Memory tests serve to mark off "the sheep
from the goats" as regards attention and faithful work; reasoning
tests serve to give a motive for disciplinary study and to measure its
results. It may perhaps seem easier to test the results of the
student's work in memory subjects; but even as to that we know that
there are various types of memory and how much less significant are
marks obtained by "the cramming process" than are equally good marks
obtained as a result of regular attention to daily tasks.

The students' revised and matured judgment of the value of their
various college studies generally differ, often greatly, from their
judgments while taking or just after completing the courses. Yet even
years afterward can man judge rightly in his own case just what has
been the relative usefulness to him of the different elements of his
complex college training, or of the different methods employed?[32]
But the evidence that comes from the most successful alumni to the
college teacher in economics is increasingly to the effect that the
college work they have come to value most is that which "teaches the
student to think." Our judgments in this matter are influenced by the
larger educational philosophy that we hold. Each will have his
standard of spiritual values.

=Moot questions in economics affecting the teaching of the subject=

The moot questions in the teaching of the subject have, perhaps, been
sufficiently indicated, but we may here add a word as to the bearings
which certain moot questions in the theory of the subject may have on
the methods of teaching. The fundamental theory of economics has,
since the days of Adam Smith, been undergoing a process of continuous
transition, but the broader concepts never have been more in dispute
than in the last quarter century in America. The possibility of such
diversity of opinion in the fundamentals among the leading exponents
of the subject argues strongly that economics is still a philosophy--a
general attitude of mind and system of opinion--rather than a positive
science. At best it is a "becoming science" which never can cease
entirely to have a speculative, or philosophic character. This is not
the place to go into details of matters in controversy. Suffice it to
say that in rivalry to the older school--which is variously designated
Ricardian, Orthodox, English, or classical--newer ideas have been
developed, dating from the work of the Austrian economists, of Jevons,
and of J. B. Clark in the last decades of the nineteenth century. The
older school had sought the explanation of value and the theory of
distribution in objective factors,--partly in the chemical qualities
of the soil, partly in labor, partly in the costs (or outlays) of the
employing class. The psychological factor in value had been almost
eliminated from this older treatment of value and price, or at best
was imperfectly recognized under the name of "utility." The newer
school made the psychological element primary in the positive
treatment of economic principles, and launched a negative criticism
against the older terms and ideas that effectively exposed their
unsoundness considered separately and their inconsistency as a system
of economic thought. Both the negative criticisms and the proposed
amendments taken one by one gained wide acceptance among economists.
But when it came to embodying them in a general theory of economics,
many economists have balked.[33] Most of the American texts in
economics and much of our teaching show disastrous effects of this
confusion and irresolution. The newer concepts, guardedly admitted to
have some validity, appear again and again in the troubled discussions
of recent textbook writers, which usually end with a rejection, "on
the whole," of the logical implications of these newer concepts. Many
teachers thus have lost their grip on any coördinating theory of
distribution. They no longer have any general economic philosophy. The
old Ricardian cock-sureness had its pedagogic merits. Without faith,
teaching perishes. The complaints of growing difficulty in the
teaching of the introductory course seem to have come particularly
from teachers that are in this unhappy state of mind. They declare
that it is impossible longer to interest students successfully in a
general theoretical course, and they are experimenting with all kinds
of substitutes--de-nicotinized tobacco and Kaffee Hag--from which
poisonous theory has been extracted. At the same time, economics "with
a punch in it," economics "with a back bone," is being taught by
strong young teachers of the new faith more successfully, perhaps,
than economics has ever been taught in the past. This greater question
of the teacher's conception of economics dominates all the minor
questions of method. Economics cannot be taught as an integrated
course in principles by teachers without theoretical training and
conceptions; in such hands its treatment is best limited to the
descriptive phases of concrete special problems,--valuable, indeed, as
a background and basis, but never rising to the plane upon which alone
economics is fully worth the student's while as a college subject.

                                            FRANK ALBERT FETTER
  _Princeton University_


BIBLIOGRAPHY

The literature on the teaching of economics in the secondary schools,
its need and its proper scope and method, is somewhat extensive.
Another goodly group of articles discusses the teaching of economic
history and of other social sciences related to economics, either in
high schools or colleges. A somewhat smaller group pertains to
graduate instruction in the universities. The following brief list of
titles, arranged chronologically, is most pertinent to our present
purpose:

"The Relation of the Teaching of Economic History to the Teaching of
Political Economy" (pages 88-101), and "Methods of Teaching Economics"
(pages 105-111), _A. E. A. Economic Studies_, Vol. 3, 1898.

Proceedings of a conference on the teaching of elementary economics,
_Journal of Political Economy_, Vol. 17, December, 1909.

TAYLOR, F. M. "Methods of Teaching Elementary Economics," _Journal of
Political Economy_. Vol. 17, December, 1909, page 688.

WOLFE, A. B. "Aim and Content of a College Course in Elementary
Economics," _Journal of Political Economy_, Vol. 17, December, 1909,
page 673.

Symposium by Carver, Clark, Seager, Seligman, Nearing, _et al._,
_Journal of Political Economy_, Vol. 18, 1910.

Report of the Committee on the Teaching of Economics, _Journal of
Political Economy_, Vol. 19, 1911, pages 760-789.

ROBINSON, L. N. "The Seminar in the Colleges," _Journal of Political
Economy_, Vol. 21, 1913, page 643.

WOLFE, A. B. "The Aim and Content of the Undergraduate Economics
Curriculum," _Journal of Political Economy_, Vol. 21, 1913, page 1.

PERSONS, CHARLES E. "Teaching the Introductory Course in Economics,"
_Quarterly Journal of Economics_, November, 1916.


Footnotes:

[15] See article by Charles E. Persons, on Teaching the Introductory
Course in Economics, in _Quarterly Journal of Economics_ Vol. XXXI,
November, 1916, for a strong presentation of this civic ideal in
economic study.

[16] Compiled by the writer from data in the report of the committee
appointed by the conference on the teaching of elementary economics,
1909; _Journal of Political Economy_, November, 1911, Vol. 19, pages
760-789.

[17] See page 767 of the committee report cited above.

[18] Evidently it is not possible to draw from these data any definite
conclusions as to the proportion of students beginning economics in
each of the four years respectively. But probably three-fourths of
all, possibly four-fifths, take the general course either in the
sophomore or the junior year. Most of the institutions giving
economics only in the senior year are small, with a very restricted
curriculum, often limited to one general course. But it is a widely
observed fact that many students in large institutions postpone the
election of the subject till their senior year.

[19] Of this see further below, page 226.

[20] Article cited, _Journal of Political Economy_, Vol. 19, page 768.

[21] The society for the Promotion of Engineering Education has had a
standing committee on economics, since 1915. The first committee was
composed of three engineers (all of them consulting and in practice
and two of them also teachers) and the present writer.

[22] In Amherst, as described in _Journal of Political Economy_ by
Professor W. H. Hamilton, on "The Amherst Program in Economics"; and
in Chicago University beginning in 1916. See also, by the same writer,
a paper on "The Institutional Approach to Economic Theory", in the
_American Economic Review_, Supplement, page 309, March, 1919.

[23] At the meeting of the American Economic Association in 1897, at
which was discussed "The Relation of the Teaching of Economic History
to the Teaching of Political Economy," the opinion was expressed by
one teacher that economic history should follow the general course.
But all the others agreed that such a course should begin the
sequence, and this seems to be the almost invariable practice. See
_Economic Studies_, Volume III. pages 88-101, Publications of the
American Economic Association, 1898.

[24] This plan has at various times been followed at Stanford,
Cornell, Harvard, and Princeton, to cite only a few of the numerous
examples.

[25] In this plan the sections are small (three to seven students) and
the preceptor is expected to give much time to the personal
supervision of the student's reading, reports, and general
scholarship. The preceptorial work is rated at more than half of the
entire work of the term. The one great difficulty of the preceptorial
system is its cost.

[26] A strong plea is made for the "retirement of the lectures" by C.
E. Persons, in the _Quarterly Journal of Economics_, Vol. XXXI,
"Teaching the Introductory Course in Economics," November, 1916, pages
96-98.

[27] Professor J. H. Hollander, _American Economic Review_, Vol. VI,
No. 1, Supplement (March, 1916), page 135. See dissenting opinions in
the discussion that followed.

[28] Professor C. E. Persons (art. cited page 86, November, 1916)
gives the titles of ten separate books or pamphlets of this kind;
since which date have appeared the author's "Manual of References and
Exercises," Parts I and II, to accompany _Economic Principles_, 1915,
and _Modern Economic Problems_, 1916, respectively.

[29] Among those most elaborately developing this method has been
Professor F. M. Taylor of the University of Michigan. See his paper on
the subject and discussion in the _Journal of Political Economy_, Vol.
VII, pages 688-703 (December, 1909). Marshall, Wright, and Field
published the _Outline of Economics_, developed as a series of
problems in 1910, which they used for a time as the main tool of
instruction in the introductory course in Chicago University.

[30] A thoughtful discussion of some phases of this problem is given
by Persons, art. cited, pages 98 ff., favoring the more positive
treatment with less distracting multiplicity of detail.

[31] To a former student of mine and now a successful teacher, Dean J.
R. Turner of New York University, I am indebted for the suggestion of
the following practical rules, a few among many possible, which should
be helpful to younger teachers:

(_a_) Keep the student expecting a surprise, afraid to relax attention
for fear of missing something.

(_b_) By Socratic method lead him into error, then have him (under
cross fire and criticism of class) reason his way out.

(_c_) Make fallacious argument, then call for criticism giving
distinction to him who renders best judgment.

(_d_) Set tasks and have members of class compete in intellectual
contests.

(_e_) Make sure that each principle learned is seen in its
relationship to practical affairs.

(_f_) Enliven each dry principle with an anecdote or illustration to
elucidate it, for principles devoid of interesting features cannot
secure attention and so will not be remembered.

(_g_) Accompany the discussion with charts and board work to visualize
facts and questions to stimulate thought.

(_h_) Ask questions and so handle the class discussions that a few
will not do all the talking, that foreign subject matter is not
introduced, that a consistent and logical development of thought is
strictly adhered to.

(_i_) The last few minutes of the period might well be devoted to the
assignment for the next meeting. The best manner of assignment must
depend upon the nature of task, the advancement of the student, the
purpose in view.

[32] An interesting study made by the department of education of
Harvard University of the teaching methods and results in the
department of economics was referred to in President Lowell's report.
According to the answers of the alumni their work in economics is now
valued mainly for its civic and disciplinary results (these do not
seem to have been further distinguished). In the introductory course
reading was ranked first, class work next, and lectures least, in
value. In the advanced courses the lecture was ranked higher and class
work lower, but that may be because the lecture plays a more important
role there than in the lower classes. Answers regarding such matters
are at most significant as indicating the relative importance of the
various methods as they have actually been employed in the particular
institution, and have little validity in reference to the work and
methods of other teachers working under other conditions, and with
students having different life aims.

[33] The typical attitude of many economists is expressed about as
follows: It is one thing to give assent to refinements when they are
used in the discussion of some single point of theory, and it is quite
another thing to accept them when one sees how, in their combined
effect, they would carry us away from "the old familiar moorings."

Such a view, it need not be urged, reflects an unscientific state of
mind. The real cause of the rejection of the ideas probably is the
shrinking of over-busy men, in middle life, and absorbed in teaching
and in special problems, from the intellectual task of restudying the
fundamentals and revising many of their earlier formed opinions--to
say nothing of rewriting many of their old lectures and manuscripts.



XI

THE TEACHING OF SOCIOLOGY


=Growth of sociology as a college subject=

The teaching of sociology as a definite college subject in the United
States began at Yale nearly forty-five years ago. Since 1873 it has
been introduced into nearly 200 American colleges, universities,
normal schools, and seminaries. A study of this teaching in 1910
revealed over 700 courses offered to over 8000 undergraduates and 1100
graduate students. It is safe to assume a steady growth during the
last six years. Hence the problem of teaching is of no little concern
to sociologists. The American Sociological Society early recognized
this fact and in 1909 appointed a Committee of Ten to report on
certain aspects of the problem. But that all teachers of sociology
have not grasped the bearing of pedagogy upon their work is clear from
complaints still heard from students that sociology is vague,
indefinite, abstract, dull, or scattered. Not long ago some bright
members of a class were overheard declaring that their professor must
have been struck by a gust of wind which scattered his notes every day
before getting to his desk.

=The pedagogy of sociology the pedagogy of all college subjects=

Sociology is simply a way of looking at the same world of reality
which every other science looks at in its own way. It cannot therefore
depart far from the pedagogical principles tried out in teaching other
subjects. It must utilize the psychology of attention, interest,
drill, the problem method, procedure from the student's known to the
new, etc. The universal pitfalls have been charted for all teachers by
the educational psychologists. In addition, sociology may offer a few
on its own account, partly because it is new, partly because a general
agreement as to the content of fundamentals in sociology courses is
just beginning to make itself felt, partly because there is so far no
really good textbook available as a guide to the beginner.

=Methods of teaching sociology determined by a complex of vital factors=

Specific methods of teaching vary according to individual temperament,
the "set" of the teacher's mind; according to his bias of class,
birth, or training; according to whether he has been formed or
deformed by some strong personality whose disciple he has become;
according to whether he is a radical or a conservative; according to
whether he is the dreamy, idealistic type or whether he hankers after
concrete facts; according to whether sociology is a primary interest
or only an incidental, more or less unwelcome.

Hence part of the difficulty, though by no means all, comes from the
fact that sociology is frequently expounded by men who have received
no specific training themselves in the subject, or who have had the
subject thrust upon them as a side issue. In this connection it is
interesting to note that in 1910 sociology was "given" in only 20
cases by sociology departments, in 63 by combinations of economics,
history, and politics, in 11 by philosophy and psychology, in 2 by
economics and applied Christianity or theology, in 1 by practical
theology!

=Guiding principles in the teaching of sociology--The teacher as keen
analyst, not revivalist=

Whatever the path which led into the sociological field or whatever
the bias of temperament, experience justifies several preliminary
hints for successful teaching. First, avoid the voice, the yearning
manner, and the gesture of the preacher. Sociology needs the
cool-headed analyst rather than the social revivalist. Let the
sentimentalist and the muck-raker stay with their lecture circuits and
the newspapers. The student wants enthusiasm and inspiration rather
than sentimentality.

=Avoiding the formal lecture=

Second, renounce the lecture, particularly with young students. There
is no surer method of blighting the interest of students, of murdering
their minds, and of ossifying the instructor than to persist in the
pernicious habit of the formal lecture. Some men plead large classes
in excuse. If they were honest with themselves they would usually find
that they like large classes as a subtle sort of compliment to
themselves. Given the opportunity to break up a class of two hundred
into small discussion groups they would frequently refuse, on the
score that they would lose a fine opportunity to influence a large
group. Dodge it as you will, the lecture is and will continue to be an
unsatisfactory, even vicious, way of attempting to teach social
science. No reputable university tries to teach economics or politics
nowadays in huge lecture sections. Only an abnormal conceit or abysmal
poverty will prevent sociology departments from doing likewise.
Remember that education is always an exchange, never a free gift.

=Adjusting instruction to the capacities of your students=

Third, do not be afraid to utilize commonplace facts and
illustrations. A successful professor of sociology writes me that he
can remember that what are mere commonplaces now were revelations to
him at twenty-one. Two of the greatest teachers of the nineteenth
century, Faraday and Huxley, attributed their success to the simple
maxim, take nothing for granted. It is safe to assume that most
students come from homes where business and petty neighborhood doings
are the chief concern, and where a broad, well-informed outlook on
life is rare. Since so many of my colleagues insist that young Ph.D.'s
tend constantly to "shoot over the heads" of their students, the best
way of avoiding this particular pitfall seems to lie along the road of
simple, elementary, concrete fact. The discussion method in the
classroom will soon put the instructor right if he has gone to the
other extreme of depreciating his students through kindergarten
methods. Likewise he can guard against being oracular and pedantic by
letting out his superior stores of information through free discussion
in the Socratic fashion. Nothing is more important to good teaching
than the knack of apt illustration. While to a certain extent it can
be taught, just as the art of telling a humorous story or making a
presentation speech can be communicated by teachers of oral English,
yet in the long run it is rather a matter of spontaneous upwellings
from a well-stored mind. For example, suppose a class is studying the
factors of variation and selection in social evolution: the instructor
shows how Nature loves averages, not only by statistics and
experiments with the standard curve of distribution, but also, if he
is a really illuminated teacher, by reference, say, to the legend of
David and Goliath, the fairy tale of _Little One-Eye, Little Two-Eye,
Little Three-Eye_, and Lincoln's famous aphorism to the effect that
the Lord must love the common people because he made so many of them.
Sad experience advises that it is unsafe for an instructor any longer
to assume that college sophomores are familiar with the Old Testament,
classic myths, or Greek and Roman history. Hence he must beware of
using any recondite allusions or illustrations which themselves need
so much explanation that their bearing on the immediate problem in
hand is obscured. An illustration, like a funny story, loses its
pungency if it requires a scholium.

=Pedagogical suggestions summarized=

Fourth, adhere to what a friend calls the 16 to 1 basis--16 parts fact
and 1 part theory. Fifth, eschew the professor's chair. The blackboard
is the teacher's "next friend." Recent time-motion studies lead us to
believe that no man can use a blackboard efficiently unless he stands!
The most celebrated teaching in history was peripatetic. Sixth,
postpone the reconciling of discrepant social theorizings to the
tougher-hided seniors or graduate students, and stick to the
presentation of "accessible realities." Finally, an occasional
friendly meeting with students, say once or twice a semester at an
informal supper, will create an atmosphere of coöperative learning,
will break down the traditional barriers of hostility between master
and pupil, and may incidentally bring to the surface many useful hints
for the framing of discussion problems.

=The course of study--(a) Determined by the maturity of the students=

To a certain extent teaching methods are determined by the age of the
students. In 1910, of all the institutions reporting, 73 stated that
sociology instruction began in the junior year; 23 admitted
sophomores, 4 freshmen, 39 seniors. But the unmistakable drift is in
the direction of introducing sociology earlier in the college
curriculum, and even into secondary and elementary schools. Hence the
cautions voiced above tend to become all the more imperative.
Moreover, while in the past it has been possible to exact history,
economics, political science, philosophy, psychology, or education as
prerequisite to beginning work in sociology, in view of the downward
trend of sociology courses it becomes increasingly more difficult to
take things for granted in the student's preparation. Until the dream
of offering a semester or year of general social science to all
freshmen as the introduction to work in the specialized branches of
social science comes true, the sociologist must communicate to his
elementary classes a sense of the relations between his view of social
phenomena and the aspects of the same phenomena which the historian,
the economist, the political scientist, and the psychologist handle.

=(b) Determined by its aims=

Both the content and methods of sociological instruction are
determined also in part by what its purpose is conceived to be. A
study of the beginnings of teaching this subject in the United States
shows that it was prompted primarily by practical ends. For example,
the American Social Science Association proposal (1878), in so far as
it covered the field of sociology, included only courses on punishment
and reformation of criminals, public and private charities, and
prevention of vice. President White of Cornell in 1871 recommended a
course of practical instruction "calculated to fit young men to
discuss intelligently such important social questions as the best
methods of dealing practically with pauperism, intemperance, crime of
various degrees and among persons of different ages, insanity, idiocy,
and the like." Columbia University early announced that a university
situated in such a city, full of problems at a time when "industrial
and social progress is bringing the modern community face to face with
social questions of the greatest magnitude, the solution of which will
demand the best scientific study and the most honest practical
endeavor," must provide facilities for bringing university study into
connection with practical work. In 1901 definite practical courses
shared honors of first place with the elementary or general course in
college announcements. The situation was practically the same ten
years later. Still more recently Professor Blackmar, one of the
veterans in sociology teaching, worked out rather an elaborate program
of what he called a "reasonable department of sociology for colleges
and universities." In spite of the fact that theoretical, biological,
anthropological, and psychological aspects of the subject were
emphasized, his conclusion was that "the whole aim is to ground
sociology in general utility and social service. It is a preparation
for social efficiency."

=(c) Determined by the social character of the community=

The principle of adaptation to environment comes into play also in the
choice of teaching methods. An urban department can send its students
directly into the field for first-hand observation of industry,
housing, sanitation, congestion, playgrounds, immigration, etc., and
may encourage "supervised field work" as fulfilling course
requirements. But the country or small town department far removed
from large cities must emphasize rural social study, or get its urban
data second hand through print, charts, photographs, or lantern
slides. A semester excursion to the city or to some state charitable
institution adds such a touch of vividness to the routine class work.
But "slumming parties" are to be ruthlessly tabooed, particularly when
featured in the newspapers. Social science is not called upon to make
experimental guinea pigs of the poor simply because of their poverty
and inability to protect themselves.

=The introductory course the vital point of contact between student and
the department=

For many reasons the most serious problems of teaching sociology
center about the elementary or introductory course. Advanced
undergraduate and graduate courses usually stand or fall by the
inherent appeal of their content as organized by the peculiar genius
of the instructor. If the student has been able to weather the storms
of his "Introduction," he will usually have gained enough momentum to
carry him along even against the adverse winds of bad pedagogy in the
upper academic zones. Since the whole purpose of sociology is the very
practical one of giving the student mental tools with which to think
straight on societal problems (what Comte called the "social point of
view"), and since usually only a comparatively small number find it
possible to specialize in advanced courses, the introductory course
assumes what at first sight might seem a disproportionate importance.
Only one or two teachers of sociology, so far as I know, discount the
value of an elementary course. The rest are persuaded of its
fundamental importance, and many, therefore, consider it a breach of
trust to turn over this course to green, untried instructors. Partly
as a recruiting device for their advanced courses, partly from this
sense of duty, they undertake instruction of beginners. But it is
often impossible for the veteran to carry this elementary work: he
must commit it to younger men. For that reason the remainder of this
chapter will be given over to a discussion of teaching methods for
such an elementary course, with younger teachers in mind.

=Teaching suggestions for the introductory course=

First, two or three general hints. It is unwise, to say the least, to
attempt to cover the social universe in one course. Better a few
simple concepts, abundantly illustrated, organized clearly and
systematically. Perhaps it is dangerous to suggest a few recurrent
catch phrases to serve as guiding threads throughout the course, but
that was the secret of the old ballad and the folk tale. Homer and the
makers of fairy tales combined art and pedagogy in their use of
descriptive epithets. Such a phrase as Ward's "struggle for existence
is struggle for structure" might furnish the framework of a whole
course. "Like-mindedness," "interest-groups," "belief-groups," and
"folk-ways" are also convenient refrains.

Nobody but a thoroughgoing pedant will drag his students through two
weeks' lectures and a hundred pages of text at the beginning of the
course in the effort to define sociology and chart all its affinities
and relations with every other science. Twenty minutes at the first
class meeting should suffice to develop an understanding of what the
scientific attitude is and a tentative definition of sociology. The
whole course is its real definition. At the end of the term the very
best way of indicating the relation of sociology to other sciences is
through suggestions about following up the leads obtained in the
course by work in biology, economics, psychology, and other fields.
This correlation of the student's program gives him an intimate sense
of the unity in diversity of the whole range of science.

If the student is to avoid several weeks of floundering, he should be
led directly to observe societal relations in the making. This can
perhaps be accomplished best through assigning a series of four
problems at the first class meetings.

Problem I: To show how each student spins a web of social
relationship. Let him take a sheet of paper, place a circle
representing himself in the middle of it, then add dots and connecting
lines for every individual or institution he forms a contact with
during the next two or three days. He will get a figure looking
something like this:

  [Illustration]


Problem II: To show how neighborhoods are socially bound up. Let the
student take a section, say two or three blocks square, in a district
he knows well, and map it,--showing all the contacts. Again he will
get a web somewhat like this:

  [Illustration]

These diagrams are adapted from students' reports. If they seem
absurdly simple, it is well to remember that experience reveals the
student's amazing lack of ability to vizualize social relationships
without some such device. These diagrams, however, should serve merely
as the point of departure. Add to them charts showing the sources of
milk and other food supplies of a large city, and a sense of the
interdependence and reciprocity of city and country will develop. Take
a Mercator's projection map of the world and draw the trade routes and
immigration streams to indicate international solidarities. Such
diagrams as the famous health tract "A Day in the Life of a Fly" or
the story of Typhoid Mary are helpful in establishing how closely a
community is bound together.

Problem III: To show the variety and kinds of social activities, i.e.,
activities that bring two or more people into contact. Have the
student note down even the homeliest sorts of such activities, the
butcher, the postman, the messenger boy; insist that he go out and
look instead of guessing or reading; require him to group these
activities under headings which he may work out for himself. He will
usually arrive at three or four, such as getting a living, recreation,
political. It may be wise to ask him to grade these activities as
helpful, harmful, strengthening, or weakening, in order to accustom
him to the idea that sociology must treat of good, bad, and
indifferent objects.

Problem IV: To determine what the preponderant social interests and
activities are as judged by the amount of time men devote to them. Let
the student try a "time budget" for a fortnight. For this purpose
Giddings suggests a large sheet of paper ruled for a wide left-hand
margin and 32 narrow columns: the first 24 columns for hours of the
day, the 25th for the word "daily," and the last seven for the seven
days of the week. In the margin the student writes the names of every
activity of whatever description during the waking hours. This will
furnish excellent training in exact habits of observation and
recording, and inductive generalization. When the summary is made at
the end of the fortnight, the student will have worked for himself the
habitual "planes of interest" along which social activities lie.

At this point he ought to have convinced himself that the subject
matter of sociology is concrete reality, not moonshine. Moreover, he
should be able to lay down certain fundamental marks of a social
group, such as a common impulse to get together, common sentiments,
ideas, and beliefs, reciprocal service. From the discovery of habitual
planes of interest (self-maintenance, self-perpetuation,
self-assertion, self-subordination, etc.) it is a simple step to show
diagrammatically how each interest impels an activity, which tends to
precipitate itself into a social habit or institution.

  ---------------------------------------------------------------------
  INNER URGE OR INTEREST |  MOTOR EXPRESSION IN | RESULTANT GROUP HABIT
  (INSTINCT OR           |  ACTIVITY            |  OR INSTITUTION
  DISPOSITION)           |                      |
  -----------------------+----------------------+----------------------
  HUNGER; WILL-TO-LIVE   |  The food-quest      |  Economic technique
  Self-Maintenance       |                      |  property, invention,
                         |                      |  material arts of life
  -----------------------+----------------------+----------------------
  SEX  :                 |  Procreation and     |  The family, ancestor
    Self-Perpetuation    |  parenthood          |  worship, courts of
                         |                      |  domestic relations,
                         |                      |  patriarchal government,
                         |                      |  etc.
  ---------------------------------------------------------------------


=To make sociology real make it egocentric=

The way is now clear for the two next steps, the concepts of causation
and development. Here again why not follow the egocentric plan of
starting with what the student knows? Ask him to write a brief but
careful autobiography answering the questions--How have I come to be
what I am? What influences personal or otherwise have played upon
me?[34] The student is almost certain to lay hold of the principle of
determining or controlling forces, and of evolution or change; he may
even be able to analyze rather clearly the different types of control
which have coöperated in his development.

From this start it is easy to develop the genetic concept of social
life. The individual grows from simple to complex. Why not the race?
Here introduce a comparison between the social group known to the
student, a retarded group (such as MacClintock's or Vincent's study of
the Kentucky Mountaineers[35]) or a frontier community, and a
contemporary primitive tribe (say, the Hupa or Seri Indians, Negritos,
Bontoc Igorot, Bangala, Kafirs, Yakuts, Eskimo, or Andaman Islanders).
Require a detailed comparison arranged in parallel columns on such
points as size, variety of occupation, food supply, security of life,
institutions, family life, language, religion, superstitions, and
opportunities for culture.

These two points of departure--the student's interest in his own
personality and the community influences that have molded it, and the
comparative study of a primitive group--should harmonize the two chief
rival views of teaching sociologists; namely, those who urge the
approach to sociology through anthropology and those who find the best
avenue through the concrete knowledge of the _socius_. Moreover, it lays
a foundation for a discussion of the antiquity of man, his kinship with
other living things, and his evolution; that is, the biological
presupposition of human society. Here let me testify to the great help
which Osborn's photographs[36] of reconstructions of the
Pithecanthropos, Piltdown, Neanderthal, and Crô-Magnon types have
rendered in clearing away prejudices and in vivifying the remote past.
Religious apprehensions in particular may be allayed also by referring
students to articles on race, man, evolution, anthropology, etc., in
such compilations as the _Catholic Encyclopedia_ and Hastings'
_Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics_. The opening chapters in Marett's
little book on _Anthropology_ are so sanely and admirably written that
they also clear away many prejudices and fears.

With such a concrete body of facts contrasting primitive with modern
civilized social life the student will naturally inquire, How did
these changes come about? At this point should come normally the
answer in terms of what practically all sociologists agree upon;
namely, the three great sets of determining forces or phenomena, the
three "controls": (1) the physical environment (climate, topography,
natural resources, etc.); (2) man's own nature (psycho-physical
factors, the factors in biological evolution, the role of instinct,
race, and possibly the concrete problems of immigration and eugenics);
(3) social heredity (folk-ways, customs, institutions, the arts of
life, the methods of getting a living, significance of tools,
distribution of wealth, standards of living, etc.) A blackboard
diagram will show how these various factors converge upon any given
individual.[37]

The amplification of these three points will ordinarily make up the
body of an introductory course so far as class work goes. Ethnography
should furnish rich illustrative material. But to make class
discussions really productive the student's knowledge of his own
community must be drawn upon. And the best way of getting this
correlation is through community surveys. The student should be
required as parallel laboratory work to prepare a series of chapters
on his ward or part of his ward or village, covering the three sets of
determining factors. The instructor may furnish an outline of the
topics to be investigated, or he may pass around copies of such brief
survey outlines as Aronovici's _Knowing One's Own Community_ or Miss
Byington's _What Social Workers Should Know about Their Own
Communities_; he may also refer them to any one of the rapidly growing
number of good urban and rural surveys as models. But he should not
give too much information as to where materials for student reports
may be obtained. The disciplinary value of having to hunt out facts
and uncover sources is second only to the value of accurate
observation and effective presentation. If the aim of a sociology
course is social efficiency, experience shows no better way of getting
a vivid, sober, first-hand knowledge of community conditions. And
there is likewise no surer way of compelling students to substitute
facts for vapid wordiness and snap judgments.

Toward the end of the course many of us have found it profitable to
introduce a brief discussion of what may be called the highest term of
the series; namely, the evolution of two or three typical
institutions, say law and government, education, religion, and the
family. These topics will serve to clinch the earlier discussions and
to crystallize a few ideas on social control and perhaps even social
progress.

Normally such a course will close with a fuller definition of the
meaning of sociology, its content, its value in the study of other
sciences, and, if time permits, a brief historical sketch of the
development of sociology as a separate science.

=The use of a text for study=

I have no certified advice to offer on the question of textbooks. But
the almost universal cry of sociology teachers is that so far no
really satisfactory text has been produced. Some men still use
Spencer, some write their own books, some try to adapt to their
particular needs such texts as are issued from time to time, some use
none at all but depend upon a more or less well-correlated syllabus or
set of readings. There is undoubtedly a profitable demand for a good
elementary source book comparable to Thomas's _Source Book on Social
Origins_ or Marshall, Wright, and Field's _Materials for the Study of
Elementary Economics_. Nearly any text will need freshening up by
collateral reading from such periodicals as _The Survey or The New
Republic_. In order to secure effective and correlated outside
reading, many teachers have found it helpful to require the students
to devote the first five or ten minutes of a class meeting once a week
or even daily to a written summary of their readings and of class
discussions. Such a device keeps readings fresh and enables the
teacher to emphasize the points of contact between readings and class
work.

=The social museum=

Every university should develop some sort of a social museum, to cover
primitive types of men, the evolution of tools, arts of life, manners
and customs, and contemporary social conditions. These can be
displayed in the form of plaster casts, ethnographic specimens,
photographs, lantern slides, models of housing, statistical charts,
printed monographs, etc. The massing of a series of these
illustrations sometimes produces a profound effect. For example, the
corridor leading to the sociology rooms at the University of Minnesota
has been lined with large photographs of tenement conditions, child
labor, immigrant types, etc. The student's interest and curiosity have
been heightened immensely. Once a semester, during the discussion of
the economic factor in social life, we stage what is facetiously
called "a display of society's dirty linen." The classroom is
decorated with a set of charts showing the distribution of wealth,
wages, cost of living, growth of labor unions and other organizations
of economic protest. The mass effect is a cumulative challenge.

=Field work: values and limitations=

Finally, a word about "field work" as a teaching device. Field work
usually means some sort of social service practice work under
direction of a charitable agency, juvenile court, settlement, or
playground. But beginning students are usually more of a liability
than an asset to such agencies; they lack the time to supervise
students' work, and field work without strict supervision is a
farcical waste of time. If such agencies will accept a few students
who have the learner's attitude rather than an inflated persuasion of
their social Messiahship, field work can become a very valuable
adjunct to class work. In default of such opportunities the very best
field work is an open-eyed study of one's own community, in the
attempt to find out what actually is rather than to reform a
hypothetical evil.[38]

                                                 ARTHUR J. TODD
  _University of Minnesota_


Footnotes:

[34] In order to secure frank statements, both these autobiographies
and the time budgets may be handed in anonymously.

[35] _American Journal of Sociology_, 4:1-20; 7:1-28, 171-187.

[36] In his _Men of the Old Stone Age_.

[37] See such a diagram in Todd, _Theories of Social Progress_, page
240.

[38] While accepting full responsibility for the opinions herein set
forth, I wish to express my appreciation of assistance rendered by a
large group of colleagues in the American Sociological Society.



XII

THE TEACHING OF HISTORY


A. THE TEACHING OF AMERICAN HISTORY

=Function of the teacher of history=

History as a science attempts to explain the development of
civilization. The investigator of the sources of history must do his
part in a truly scientific spirit. He must examine with the utmost
scrutiny the many sources on which the history of the past has its
foundation. He reveals facts, and through them the truth is
established.

But history is more than a science. It is an art. The investigator is
not necessarily a historian, any more than a lumberman is an
architect. The historian must use all available material, whether the
result of his own researches or that of others. He must weigh all
facts and deduct from them the truth. He must analyze, synthesize,
organize, and generalize. He must absorb the spirit of the people of
whom he writes and color the narrative as little as possible with his
own prejudices. But the historian must be more than a narrator; he
must be an interpreter. As an interpreter he should never lose sight
of the fact that all his deductions should be along scientific lines.
Even then he will not escape errors. In pure science error is
inadmissible. In history minor errors of fact are unavoidable, but
their presence need not seriously affect the general conclusions. In
spite of many misstatements of fact, a historical work may be
substantially correct in the main things--in presenting and
interpreting with true perspective the life and spirit of the people
of whom it treats.

The historian must be more than a chronicler and an interpreter. He
must be master of a lucid, virile, attractive literary style. The
power of expression, indeed, must be one of his chief accomplishments.
The old notion, it is true, that history is merely a branch of
literature is quite as erroneous as the later theory that history is
a pure science and must be dissociated from all literary form.

=The teacher of history as the teacher of the evolution of civilization=

The pioneer investigator who patiently delves into sources and brings
to light new material deserves high praise, but far rarer is the gift
of the man who sees history in its true perspective, who can construct
the right relationships and can then reproduce the past in compelling
literary form. A historian without literary charm is like an architect
who cares only for the utility and nothing for the grace and beauty of
his building.

=The chronological point of view=

The history teacher who slavishly follows old chronological methods
has not kept pace with modern progress; but the teacher who has
discarded the chronological method has ventured without a compass on
an unknown sea. Chronology, the sequence of events, is as necessary in
history as distance and direction in geography.

=The economic point of view=

A modern school of history teachers would make economics the sole
background of history, would explain all historic events from the
economic standpoint--to which school this writer does not belong.
Economics has played a great part in the course of human events, but
it is only one of many causes that explain history. For example, the
Trojan War (if there was a Trojan War), the conquests of Alexander,
the Mohammedan invasions, were due chiefly to other causes.

=The culture viewpoint=

Nor would we agree with the school of modern educators who would
eliminate the culture studies from the curriculum, retaining only
those which make for present-day utilitarianism. A general education
imparts power and enlarges life, and such an education should precede
all technical and specialized training. If a young man with the solid
foundation of a liberal education fail in this or that walk of life,
the fault must be sought elsewhere than in his education. The late E.
H. Harriman made a wise observation when he said that though a high
school graduate may excel the college graduate in the same employment
for the first year, the latter would at length overtake and pass him
and henceforth remain in the lead.

=Aims of history in the college curriculum=

The uses of the study of history are many, the most important of which
perhaps is that it aids us in penetrating the present. Our
understanding of every phase of modern life is no doubt strengthened
by a knowledge of the past. It is trite but true to say that the study
of history is a study of human nature, that a knowledge of the origin
and growth of the institutions we enjoy makes for a good citizenship,
that the study of history is a cultural study and that it ranks with
other studies as a means of mental discipline. Finally, the reading of
history by one who has learned to love it is an abiding source of
entertainment and mental recreation. It is one of the two branches of
knowledge (the other being literature) which no intelligent person,
whatever his occupation, can afford to lay aside after quitting
school.

=What can the study of American history give the college student?=

The most important historical study is always that of one's own
country. In our American colleges, therefore, the study of American
history must take precedence over that of any other, though an
exception may be made in case a student is preparing to teach the
history of some other country or period. It must not be forgotten,
however, by the student of American history that a study of the
European background is an essential part of it.

From its very newness the history of the United States may seem less
fascinating than that of the older countries, and, indeed, it is true
that the glamour of romance that gathers around the stories of royal
dynasties, orders of nobility, and ancient castles is wanting in
American history. But there is much to compensate for this. The coming
of the early settlers, often because of oppression in their native
land, their long struggle with the forest and with the wild men and
wild beasts of the forest, the gradual conquest of the soil, the
founding of cities, the transplanting of European institutions and
their development under new environment--the successful revolt against
political oppression and the fearless grappling with the problem of
self-government when nearly all governments in the world were
monarchical--these and many other phases of American history furnish
a most fascinating story as a mere story.

=To the college student American history must be presented as evidence
of the success of democracy=

But to the student of politics and history the most unique and
interesting thing, perhaps, in American history lies in the fact that
the United States is the first great country in the world's history in
which the federal system has been successful--if we assume that our
experimental period has passed. Perhaps the greatest of all
governmental problems is just this: How to strike the right balance
between these opposing tendencies--liberty and union, democracy and
nationality--so that the people may enjoy the benefits of both. The
United States has, no doubt, come nearer than any other country to
solving this problem, and the fact greatly enhances the interest in
our history. This is a question of political science rather than of
history, it is true, but the history of any country and its government
are inseparably bound together.

=Utilitarian value=

In the regular college curriculum there should be, in my opinion, two
courses in American history.

=Organization of courses and methods of teaching=

_Course I_--about 3 hours for one academic year (6 semester-hours) in
the freshman or sophomore year, covering the whole story of the United
States. About one third of the year's work should cover the Colonial
and Revolutionary periods. Of the remaining two thirds of the year I
should devote about half to the period since the Civil War.

This course should be required of all students taking the A.B. degree
and in all other liberal arts courses; an exception may be made in the
case of those taking certain specialized scientific courses--for these
students, the history required in the high school may be deemed
sufficient.

In this course a textbook is necessary, and if the class is large it
is desirable that the text be uniform. The text should be written by a
true historian with broad and comprehensive views, by one who knows
how to appraise historic values, and, if possible, by one who commands
an attractive literary style. If the textbook is written by Dr.
Dry-as-dust, however learned he may be, the whole burden of keeping
the class interested rests with the teacher; and, moreover, many of
the students will never become lovers of the subject to such a degree
as to make it a lifelong study.

The exclusive lecture system is intolerable, and the same is true of
the quiz. A teacher will do his best work if untrammeled by rules. He
should conduct a class in his own way and according to his own
temperament. It is doubtful if the teacher who carefully plans and
maps out the work he intends to present to the class is the most
successful teacher. A teacher who is free, spontaneous, without a
fixed method, ready in passing from the lecture to the quiz and vice
versa at any moment, quick in asking unexpected questions, will
usually have little trouble in keeping a class alert. Above all, a
teacher of college history must explain the meaning of things with far
greater fullness than is possible in a condensed textbook, and it is a
most excellent practice to ask opinions of members of the class on
almost all debatable questions that may arise. The reason for this is
obvious.

The usual method of the writer, in as far as he has a method, is to
spend the first fifteen or twenty minutes of the class hour in hearing
reports from two or three students on special topics that have been
assigned them a week or two before, topics that require library
reference work and that could not possibly be developed from the
textbook. These topics are not on the subject of the day's lesson, but
of some preceding lesson. After commenting on these reports and often
asking for opinions and comments of the class, we plunge into the
day's lesson.

The use of a current periodical in class should be encouraged. It
brings the learner into direct contact with life and often illuminates
the past.

Current events as presented in the daily papers should often be the
subject of comment, but the daily newspaper is not suitable for class
use. Even the weekly is, for several reasons, less desirable than the
monthly. It must not be forgotten that the basal, fundamental work of
the class is, not to keep posted on current affairs, but to study the
elements under the guidance of a textbook and an inspiring teacher to
interpret it. The weekly is less accurate than the monthly and less
literary in form, and, moreover, it comes too often. It is apt to take
too much time from the study of the fundamentals. The use of the
periodical in the history class has probably come to stay and it
should stay, but it should be only incidental and supplementary.

_Course II_ should be given in the junior or senior year. It should be
elective, should cover at least two year-hours, and should be wholly
devoted to the national period of American history. Only those having
taken Course I should be eligible to this class.

Every student who expects to read law, to enter journalism or
politics, or to teach history or political science should take this
course. The class will be smaller than in Course I. Uniform textbooks
need not be required, or the class may be conducted without a text.
Most of the work must be done from the library.

It is assumed that the members of this class have a good knowledge of
the narrative, and it is needless to follow it closely again. A better
plan is to choose an important phase of the history here and there and
study intensively. Much use should be made of original sources such as
Presidents' messages, _Congressional Record_, speeches and writings of
the times, but the class must not ignore the fact that a vast amount
of good material may be had from the historians. It must also be
remembered that original research is for the graduate student and the
specialist rather than for the undergraduate.

=Testing the results of instruction=

In conclusion, I shall explain a method of examination that I have
frequently employed with apparently excellent results. Two or three
weeks before the time of the examination I give the class a series of
topics, perhaps fifty or more, carefully chosen from the entire
subject that has been studied during the semester. Instead of having
the usual review of the text, we talk over these subjects in class
during the remainder of the semester. The examination is oral, not
written. The time for examination is divided into three, four, or five
minute periods, according to the number in the class. When a student's
name is called, he comes forward and draws from a box one of the
topics and dilates on it before the class during his allotted time. If
he fails on the first topic he may have another draw, but his grade
will be reduced. A second failure would mean a "flunk," unless the
class marks are very high.

There are three or four real advantages in this form of examination:
(1) It saves the teacher hours of labor in reading examination papers;
(2) the teacher, in selecting the topics, omits the unimportant and
chooses only the salient, leading subjects such as every student
should master and remember; (3) the student, knowing that no new
questions will be sprung for the examination, will be almost sure to
be prepared on every question. Failures under this system have been
much less frequent than under the old system of written examinations;
(4) it practically eliminates all chance of cheating in examination.

                                                 HENRY W. ELSON
  _Thiel College_


B. MODERN EUROPEAN HISTORY

=History to be taught as an evolutionary process=

Teaching European history in colleges is, in many ways, not different
from teaching any other history. In each instance it is to be
remembered that history includes all activities of man and not merely
his political life, that facts and data are not intrinsically valuable
but are merely a means to an end, that the end of history is to inform
us where man came from, what experiences he passed through, and
_chiefly_, what were the fundamental forces behind his experiences.
The emphasis should be put on the stimuli--economic, political,
religious, or social--that lead man to act, instead of narrating his
action. In a word, not _what_ happened or _when_ it happened, but
_why_ it happened, is of importance in college history. Stressing the
stimuli in history will almost inevitably lead to treating history as
a continuous or evolutionary process, which of itself greatly
increases the interest of the subject.

=Because history is an evolution it must explain the present=

It is highly desirable that in teaching modern history very much more
time be given to recent history than has generally been the case.
Frederick William I showed that he accepted this when he instructed
the tutors of Frederick (later the Great) to teach the history of the
last fifty years to the exactest pitch. So important is this that,
even when teaching early periods, constant contrasts or comparisons
with present conditions should be made, and the descent of ideas and
institutions to modern times should be sketched, as it shows the
student that remote events or institutions have a relationship to
current life.

=Disciplinary values of history=

Certain special aims of history have been advocated. It is held to be
of disciplinary value, especially in strengthening the memory. Though
this is true, it is hardly a good reason for studying history, as the
memory can be perfected on almost anything, on the dictionary, poetry,
formulæ, family records, gossip, or cans on grocery shelves, some of
which may indeed be of more practical value than dates. In college, at
least, history should aim to explain social tendencies and processes
in a rational way rather than to develop the memory. The latter method
tends to make the student passive and narrow, the former requires
cerebration and develops breadth and depth of vision. Understanding
history, rather than memorizing it, has cultural value. To be sure,
understanding presupposes information; but where there is a desire to
understand, the process of seeking and acquiring the information is
natural and tends to care for itself.

History is not a prerequisite to professional careers in the way
mathematics is to engineering; still, special periods, chiefly the
modern, are highly useful to lawyers, journalists, publicists,
statesmen, and others, each of whom selects what he finds most useful
to his purposes.

=Organization of courses in history--What to teach in the beginning course=

The point of view in history teaching is more material than the
machinery or methods employed. These must and should vary with persons
and conditions. Ordinarily, however, it seems preferable to offer some
part of European history as the first-year college course, because
students have usually had considerable American history in high
school, and the change adds new interest. Whether this course be
general, medieval, or modern European history is of little importance,
though, of course, medieval should precede modern history. In any
case, the course should offer the student a good deal more than he may
have had in high school, if for no other reason than to justify the
profound respect with which he ordinarily comes to college. It should
come often enough a week to grip the student, especially the history
major.

=Gradation of courses determined by content=

Gradation of courses in history on the basis of subject matter is
largely arbitrary, and turns upon the method of presentation. General
courses naturally precede period courses. A sound principle is to
select courses adapted to the stages of the student's development. On
this principle it has already been suggested that the first college
course should be, not American but European history. English, ancient,
medieval, or modern history immediately suggest themselves, with
strong arguments in favor of the first if but one freshman course is
offered, as it forms a natural projection of American history into the
past. Beyond this, what subject matter is offered in the several years
is largely a matter of local convenience, as the college student
understands the general history of all nations or periods about
equally well. It is now clear, however, that the student should know
more modern and contemporary European history than he has been
getting, and the sound training of an American of the future should
include thorough training in modern European history.

=Gradation of courses may be determined by method of teaching=

Gradation based on the method of presentation is more nearly possible.
Graduate courses presuppose training in the auxiliary sciences, in the
necessary languages, in research methods, in the special field of
research, as well as a knowledge of general history. This establishes
a sort of sequence of the methods to be employed, irrespective of
subject matter.

=Method of teaching introductory courses--Lecture method=

The lecture method is convenient for the elementary courses,
especially if, as is so often the case, these have a large number of
students. It cannot, however, be gainsaid that convenience or, worse
still, economy is a weak argument in favor of the lecture course,
especially for the first-year student. To him the lecture method is
unknown, and he flounders about a good deal if he is left to work out
his own salvation; and then, too, just when he needs personal
direction and particularly when, as a youth away from home for the
first time, he needs some definite and unescapable task that shall
teach discipline and duty as well as give information, the lecture
system gives him the maximum of liberty with the minimum of aid or
direction. These considerations strongly advocate small classes for
freshmen, frequent recitations, discussions, tests, papers and maps,
library problems--in short, a laboratory system. Every student should
always have at least one course in which he is held to rigid and exact
performance. These courses should be required, no matter what the
special field or period of history, and should form a sequence leading
to a degree and providing training for a technical and professional
career. In addition to these courses, designed to assure personal work
and supervision, enough other, presumably lecture, courses should be
required to secure a general knowledge of history. Beyond that there
are always enough electives to satisfy any personal wish or whim of
the student.

=Topical method in European history=

There is much to be said, especially in modern history, for the
topical treatment of institutions. In a very specialized course a
single institution may be treated; but even in a general course,
treating the several human institutions as evolutionary organisms
seems preferable and is more interesting than a chronological
narrative, which grows more inane the more general the course. Courses
which come to modern times can trace existing institutions and their
immediate antecedents, thus giving an advantage that many instructors
neglect from the mere tradition that history does not come down to
living man. No primitive superstition needs to be dispelled more than
this, if history is to maintain its hold in the modern college.
Indeed, whenever possible--which is always with modern history--a
course should start from the present by dwelling on the existing
conditions the historical antecedents of which are to be traced. If
this is done, the student forthwith secures a vital interest and feels
that he is trying to understand his own rather than past times. After
this preliminary the past can be traced chronologically or topically
as preferred, the textbook serving as a quarry for data, the teacher
seeing to it that the change or progress toward the present condition
is perceived and understood, and furnishing corroborative and
analogous materials from the history of other nations and periods.

=Assigned reading=

It is the general practice of college courses in history to require
outside reading. Though this rests on the sound ground that the
student ought to get a large background and learn to know books and
writers, it is very doubtful whether this aim is, in fact, achieved.
The student often has too much work to permit of much outside reading,
and often the library is too limited to give him a good choice, or to
permit him to keep a desirable book until he has finished reading it.
Unguided reading is almost certainly a failure; reading guided only by
putting a selected list of books before the student is not sure to be
a success. The instructor ought from time to time to tell his class
something about the books he suggests, and about their authors and
their careers, viewpoints and merits, as a reader always profits by
knowing these things. As the reading of snatches from collateral books
is hardly profitable, so the perusal of longer histories is often
impossible, and generally confines the student for a long time to the
minutiæ of one period while the class is going forward. In view of
these difficulties there is much to be said in favor of putting a
large textbook into the hands of a class, and requiring a thorough
reading and understanding of it, and correspondingly reducing outside
readings. If collateral reading is demanded, it is a good plan to
require students to read a biography or a work on some special
institution falling within the scope of the course,--some selected
historical novel even,--for in that way the student reads, as he will
in later life, something he selects instead of a required number of
pages, a specific thing is covered, an author's acquaintance is made,
and therefore a significant test can be conducted. Furthermore, as
some students will buy special volumes of this kind, the pressure on
the library is reduced. Direct access to reference shelves is always
recommended. One of our universities has a system of renting preferred
books to students.

=Tests on outside reading=

Tests on outside reading are always difficult, but they must be
employed if the reading is not to become a farce. By having weekly
reading reports on uniform cards, one can often arrange groups of
students who have read the same thing and can therefore be tested by a
single question. By extending this over several weeks the majority of
students, even in a large class, can be tested with relatively few
questions. Some instructors require students to hand in their reading
notes, others check up the books the students use in the library,
still others have consultation periods in which they inquire into the
student's reading. Quiz sections, if there are any, offer a good
opportunity to test collateral reading.

=Miscellaneous aids in teaching history=

Map making, coördinated with the recitations and so designed as to
require more than mere tracing, is desirable in introductory courses.
The imaginative historical theme written by the student is
employed--and successfully, it is declared--in one college. A syllabus
is highly useful in the hands of students in lecture courses. It can
be mimeographed at comparatively slight expense for each lecture, thus
permitting changes in successive years--a distinct advantage over the
printed syllabus.

=The problem of suitable examination=

How to give a fair and telling examination is the college teacher's
perennial problem. The less he teaches and insists on facts and
details, the greater his quandary. A majority of students incline to
parrot what they have heard, to the dismay of the teacher who wants
them to make the subject their own. Hence tests calling the memory
only into play do not satisfy the true teacher or the thoughtful
student. At the least there should be some questions requiring
constructive or synthetic thinking by the student. Above all, the
instructor of introductory work should form a first-hand personal
opinion of the student by requiring him to come to the office for
consultation. Nothing can take the place of the personal touch. Quiz
masters are better than no touch; but they are a poor substitute for
the small class and direct contact, even if the instructor is not one
of the masters of the profession.

=The worth of topical or institutional treatment=

The topical or institutional treatment of history has been mentioned
above as being particularly applicable to modern history. If carefully
worked out beforehand it can be made to embrace virtually
everything--certainly everything significant--that is contained either
in the text or in a chronological narrative. To be sure, a topical
treatment of this kind places more emphasis on the common experiences
of mankind than does national history, and, as some nations or peoples
precede others in a given development, history becomes continuous
instead of fragmentary. Perhaps, too, the way certain matters are
introduced into "continuous" history may appear forced, unless it be
remembered that this impression is created merely by its dissimilarity
from the usual interpretation, which is just as arbitrary and forced
until one gets accustomed to it.

=Classification in topical treatment=

It will be serviceable in arranging a topical treatment of any period
of history, which shall show a sense of historical continuity and keep
in mind the fundamental stimuli and causes of human action, to note
that virtually all human interests can be classified under one of the
following six heads: physical, economic, social, religious, political,
and intellectual (or cultural). Though these are never wholly isolated
and are always interactive, one or the other may be specially
significant in a given era, and thus we speak of a religious age, an
age of rationalism, or the period of the industrial revolution.


SUGGESTED TOPICAL OUTLINE OF MODERN EUROPEAN HISTORY

To apply this more specifically to modern European history, there
follows an outline of topics. It is general to about 1789, and more
detailed for the period since that time (IV below), the endeavor being
to show how a topical treatment of the development of democracy can be
made to include practically everything of significance. There are
certain cautions necessary here: that the outline is suggestive only,
that it does not pretend or aim to be complete, that specific data
often found in the sub-heads are to serve as illustrations and not as
a complete statement of sub-topics; and that it is in fact merely a
skeleton which can be extended and amplified indefinitely by
insertions.

  I. Background of the modern period.
    _A._ Economic and social conditions at the close of the Middle Age.
    _B._ Political nature of feudalism.
         The governments of the 15th century.
    _C._ The medieval church.

  II. The development of religious liberty.
    _A._ The Reformation.
    _B._ Varieties of Protestant sects, from state churches to
         individualistic sects.
    _C._ The Religious Wars, and toleration.

  III. Absolute monarchy.
    _A._ Dynastic states.
    _B._ Dynastic wars and the balance of power.

  IV. The development of democracy.
   _A._ The dynastic feudal state (_Ancien Régime_).
      1. Description of the _Ancien Régime_.
      2. Proponents of the _Ancien Régime_.
         Dynasties (divine right monarchs).
         Feudal landlords.
         Higher clergy and state churches.
         The army command (younger sons of the nobility).
         The schools (education for privileged classes only).
    _B._ The revolutionary elements.
      1. The dissatisfied feudal serf.
      2. The intellectuals, rationalists, political theorists.
         The "social compact." ... Popular sovereignty.
      3. Religious dissenters.
      4. Industrial elements.
         _a._ The Industrial Revolution.
              Resulting in exportation, markets, and _laissez-faire_
              doctrines.
         _b._ The bourgeoisie (employers) ... The Third Estate.
         _c._ The proletariat ... Unorganized labor elements.
    _C._ The Revolutionary Period, 1789-1800.
      1. Triumph of bourgeoisie over feudal aristocracy in France,
           1789-1791.
         Limited monarchy. Mirabeau.
      2. Increasing influence and rise to control of France of the Parisian
         proletariat. The Republic ... The Terror ... Robespierre.
      3. Radiation of revolutionary ideas to other nations.
      4. Wars between revolutionary France and monarchical Europe.
           The rise of Napoleon.
    _D._ The decline of the revolutionary elements, 1800-1815.
      1. France converted from a republic to an empire by Napoleon.
      2. The Napoleonic Wars.
         _a._ Reveal Napoleon's dynastic ambition.
         _b._ Lead Europe to combine against him and to blame democratic
              ideas for the sorrows of the time.
         _c._ Result in the defeat of Napoleon and the triumph of
              anti-democratic or reactionary elements.
    _E._ The fruits of the principle of popular sovereignty during the
         19th century (chronologically England and France lead the other
         countries in most of these developments).[39]
      1. Constitutions, embodying ever-increasing popular rights and
         powers.
      2. Extension of suffrage. Political parties and party politics.
      3. The spirit of nationality.
         Independence of Greece and Belgium.
         Unification of Italy and Germany.
         National revivals in Poland, Bulgaria, Servia, Rumania, Bohemia,
           Finland, Ireland, and elsewhere.
         Pan-Germanism, Pan-Slavism, Imperial Federation.
      4. Class consciousness and strife.
         Feudal aristocratic class--leans toward absolute monarchy.
         Bourgeoisie (employing capitalists)--leans toward limited
           monarchies or republics.
         Labor--leans toward socialism. (The other elements in the society
           are slow in developing a group consciousness.)
      5. Abolition of feudal forms and tenures.
         Fight on great landlords. Encouragement of independent farmers.
         Emancipation and protection of peasants: France, 1789; Prussia,
           1808; Austria, 1848; Russia, 1861.
      6. Social, socialistic, and humanitarian legislation.
         Factory acts, minimum wage laws, industrial insurance, old age
           insurance, labor exchanges, child labor laws, prison reform
           acts, revision of penal codes, abolition of slavery and slave
           trade, government control or ownership of railways, telephones,
           telegraph, and mails.
      7. Opposition to state or national churches.
         Disestablishment agitations ... Separation of church and state.
      8. Demand for free public schools to replace church or other private
         schools. State lay schools in England ... Suppression of teaching
         orders in France ... Kulturkampf in Germany ... Expulsion of
         Jesuits ... Tendency toward compulsory non-sectarian education.
      9. Imperialism.
         Industrial societies depend on imports, exports, and markets as
           means of keeping labor employed and people prosperous.
         This means export of capital, hence, plans for colonies, closed
           doors, preferential markets, and demands for the protection of
           citizens abroad and political stability in backward areas.
         Partition of Africa, Asia, and Near East.
      10. Militarism.
          Expansion and colonial acquisition by one country exclude
           another, thus unsettling the balance of power. Therefore
           rival nations depend on force and go in for military and
           naval programs.
    _F._ The conflict between reactionary and bourgeois
           interests, 1815-1848.
      1. Reactionary elements in control--opposed to democracy and
         revolutionary doctrines.
         _a._ Restore Europe as nearly as possible on old lines at Vienna,
                1815.
              Ignore liberal tendencies and national sentiments.
         _b._ Seek to maintain _status quo_.
              Metternich ... Holy Alliance.
              Carlsbad Decrees ... Congresses of Troppau, Laibach,
                Verona ... Intervention in Naples, Piedmont, and Spain.
              Proposal to restore Latin America to Monarchy.
              Opposed by Great Britain in compliance with bourgeois
                interests.
              Monroe Doctrine.
         _c._ Failed to prevent:
              Greek revolution and independence (national movement).
              Separation of Belgium from the Netherlands (national).
              Revival of liberal demands in various quarters, producing the
                revolution of 1830 in France and elsewhere.
      2. The ascendancy of the bourgeoisie, 1830-1848.
         _a._ Industrialism on the continent.
         _b._ The bourgeois (capitalist employer) secures political power
                to advance his interests.
              Revolution of 1830.
              Reform bill of 1832.
              Legislation against labor organizations and for tariffs
                favoring trade.
         _c._ The development of organized labor and socialism.
              Legislation hostile to labor. Chartism.
              Labor in France, Germany, and Belgium.
              Spread of socialist doctrines.
         _d._ The Revolution of 1848.
              Socialist republican state in France, 1848.
              The winning of constitutions in Prussia, Austria, and
                elsewhere--breach in the walls of reaction.
    _G._ The broadening base of democracy, 1848-1914.
      1. The organization of labor.
      2. The spread of socialistic views and of class consciousness.
         Karl Marx.
      3. The resistance of the old aristocratic class and the bourgeoisie,
           who gradually fuse to form the conservative element in all
           nations.
         Napoleon III restores the Empire in France.
         In Austria and Prussia, Bismarck and Francis Joseph II retrieve
           losses of 1848.
         Disraeli and Conservatives in England.
      4. The progress toward universal suffrage after 1865, strengthening
           political position of lower classes.
         Vindication of democratic government through triumph of the North
           in the United States gave impetus to democracy abroad.
         Electoral reform bills in Great Britain, 1867, 1884, 1885.
         Franco-Prussian War and the Third French Republic. Universal
           suffrage.
         Unification of Germany and universal suffrage.
         Russian Revolution, 1917.
         Woman suffrage.
      5. Popular sovereignty and its consequences.
         _a._ Triumph of republicans and radicals in France over
                monarchists and clericals.
         _b._ Liberal ministries in United Kingdom.
              Lloyd George Budget ... Parliament Act. Social legislation.
         _c._ Growth of Social Democratic party in Germany.
              Bismarck and state socialism.
         _d._ In recent times the many divergent political parties fall
              rather instinctively into three groups which have opposing
              views and policies on almost every question, and which may
              be called:
                Conservatives (Tories, aristocrats, monarchists, Junkers,
                  clericals, capitalists, imperialists, militarists);
                  peasants and farmers, being conservative, are usually
                  politically allied to this group.
                Liberals (progressives, democrats, labor parties,
                  Socialists, social democrats, Dissenters,
                  anti-imperialists, anti-militarists).
              Radicals, Bolsheviki or revolutionists seeking change of the
                economic and social order.
      6. Effects of the war
         _a._ Extensive nationalization and socialization of industry and
              human rights in all belligerent countries.
         _b._ Develops into a "war for democracy," and for moral as opposed
              to materialistic aims.
         _c._ Culminates in an attempt to secure a righteous and lasting
              peace through the instrumentality of a league of nations.

                                                EDWARD KREHBIEL

  _Leland Stanford Junior University_


BIBLIOGRAPHY

TEXTS

ANDREWS, C. M. _Historical Development of Modern Europe._ Two vols. G.
P. Putnam's Sons, 1900.

HAYES, CARLTON J. H. _A Political and Social History of Modern
Europe._ Two vols. The Macmillan Company, 1916.

ROBINSON, J. H., and BEARD, C. A. _The Development of Modern Europe._
Two vols. Ginn and Co., 1907, 1908.

SCHEVILL, FERDINAND. A_ Political History of Modern Europe._ Charles
Scribner's Sons, 1907.

PERIOD HISTORIES

BOURNE, HENRY ELDREDGE. _The Revolutionary Period in Europe._ The
Century Company, 1914.

_Cambridge Modern History._ Thirteen vols. and maps. I. the
Renaissance; II. The Reformation; III. The Wars of Religion; IV. The
Thirty Years' War; V. The Age of Louis XIV; VI. The Eighteenth
Century; VII. The United States; VIII. The French Revolution; IX.
Napoleon; X. The Restoration; XI. The Growth of Nationalities; XII.
The Latest Age; XIII. Genealogical Tables and Lists and General Index;
also on atlas, in another volume. Cambridge, the University Press,
1902-1912.

HAZEN, CHARLES DOWNER. _Europe since 1815._ Henry Holt & Co., 1910.

LINDSAY, T. M. _A History of the Reformation._ Two vols. Charles
Scribner's Sons, 1906-1907.

LOWELL, E. J. _The Eve of the French Revolution._

SCHAPIRO, JACOB SALWYN. _Modern and Contemporary European History._
Houghton Mifflin Company, 1918.

WAKEMAN, H. O. _The Ascendancy of France._ The Macmillan Company,
1894.

SOURCE BOOKS

ANDERSON, FRANK MALOY. _The Constitutions and Other Select Documents
Illustrative of the History of France, 1789-1901._ H. W. Wilson
Company, Minneapolis, 1904.

FLING, FRED MORROW. _Source Problems of the French Revolution._ Harper
and Brothers, 1913.

ROBINSON, J. H. _Readings in European History._ Two vols. Ginn and
Co., 1904.

---- _Readings in European History._ Abridged Edition. Ginn and Co.,
1906.

ROBINSON, J. H., and BEARD, C. A. _Readings in Modern European
History._ Two vols. Ginn and Co., 1908.

---- _Readings in Modern European History._ Abridged Edition. Ginn and
Co., 1909.

ATLASES

_Cambridge Modern History._ Volume of Maps. Cambridge, the University
Press, 1912.

DOW, EARLE W. _Atlas of European History._ Henry Holt & Co., 1909.

DROYSE, GUSTAV. _Allgemeiner historischer Kandatlas._ Velhagen und
Klasing, Leipzig, 1886.

GARDINER, SAMUEL RAWSON. _A School Atlas of English History._
Longmans, Green & Co., 1910.

POOLE, REGINAL LANE. _Historical Atlas of Modern Europe from the
Decline of the Roman Empire._ H. Frowde, 1896-1902.

PUTZGER, FRIEDRICH WILHELM. _Historischer Schul-atlas zur alten,
mittleren, und neunen Geschichte._ Velhagen und Klasing, Leipzig,
1910.

SHEPHERD, WILLIAM ROBERT. _Historical Atlas._ Henry Holt & Co., 1911.

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL

ADAMS, CHARLES KENDALL. _A Manual of Historical Literature._ Harper
and Brothers, 1888.

ANDREWS, GAMBRILL, and TALL. _A Bibliography of History for Schools
and Libraries._ Longmans, Green & Co., 1911.

PEDAGOGICAL

Committee of Seven. American Historical Association. _The Study of
History in the Schools._ The Macmillan Company, 1899.

Committee of Five. American Historical Association. _The Study of_
_History in the Secondary Schools._ The Macmillan Company, 1911.

DUNN, ARTHUR WILLIAM. _The Social Studies in Secondary Education._
Department of the Interior, Bureau of Education, Bulletin No. 28,
1916.

JOHNSON, H. _The Teaching of History in Elementary and Secondary
Schools._ 1915.

ROBINSON, JAMES HARVEY. _The New History; Essays Illustrating the
Modern History Outlook._ The Macmillan Company, 1912.

HISTORICAL FICTION

BAKER, E. A. _History in Fiction._ Two vols. E. P. Dutton & Co., 1907.

NIELD, JONATHAN. _A Guide to the Best Historical Novels and Tales._ G.
P. Putnam's Sons.

PERIODICALS

_The American Historical Review._ Published by the American Historical
Association, Washington, D. C.

_The History Teacher's Magazine._ McKinley Publishing Company,
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.


Footnotes:

[39] This summary of the consequences of the doctrines of democracy is
allowed to break into the topical development of the outline, as it
gives a sort of general introduction to tendencies since 1815. It will
not escape the teacher that he could treat history since 1815 by
taking up in order the topics given under this heading.



XIII

THE TEACHING OF POLITICAL SCIENCE


=Scope of political science=

Certain phases of what is known as political science form to no small
degree the content of courses in other branches of study. The
engineering schools in their effort to set forth the regulation of
public utilities with respect to engineering problems have begun to
offer courses which deal extensively with politics and government. In
political and constitutional history, considerable attention is given
to the organization and administration of the various divisions of
government. To a greater degree, however, the allied departments of
economics and sociology have begun, in the development of their
respective fields, to analyze matters which are primarily of a
political nature. Especially in what is designated as applied
economics and applied sociology there is to be found material a large
part of which relates directly to the regulation and administration of
governmental affairs. Thus in portions of the courses designated as
labor problems, money and banking, public finance, trust problems,
public utility regulation, problems in social welfare, and
immigration, primary consideration is frequently given to government
activities and to the influences and conditions surrounding government
control.

While these courses, then, deal in part with subject matter which
belongs primarily to the science of politics and while any
comprehensive survey of instruction in political science would include
an account of the phases of the subject presented in other
departments, for the present purpose it has been advisable to limit
the consideration of the teaching of political science to the subjects
usually offered under that designation.[40] Some attention, however,
will be given later to the relation of political science to allied
subjects.

A difference of opinion exists as to the meaning of political science,
some institutions using the term in a broad sense to embody courses
offered in history, economics, politics, public law, and sociology,
and others giving the word a very narrow meaning to include a few
specialized courses in constitutional and administrative law. There
is, nevertheless, a strong tendency to have the term "political
science" comprise all of the subjects which deal primarily with the
organization and the administration of public affairs.

=Courses usually offered in political science=

Through an exhaustive survey made by the Committee on Instruction of
the American Political Science Association, covering instruction in
political science in colleges and universities, the subjects which are
usually offered may be indicated in two groups:

LEADING COURSES FOR COLLEGES AND UNIVERSITIES[41]

(Given in order of number of instruction hours, with highest ranked
first.)

  _A._ Major Courses.

    1. American government--including national, state, and local.
    2. General political science--mainly political theory, with some
       comparative government.
    3. Comparative government--devoted chiefly to a study of England,
       France, Germany, and the United States.
    4. International law.
    5. Commercial law.
    6. Municipal government.
    7. Constitutional law.

  _B._ Minor Courses.

    1. Jurisprudence, or elements of law.
    2. Political theories.
    3. Diplomacy.
    4. State government.
    5. Political parties.
    6. Government of England.
    7. Legislative methods of procedure.
    8. Roman law.
    9. Regulation of social and industrial affairs.

While the purposes and objects of instruction in this rather extensive
group of subjects vary considerably, it seems desirable to analyze the
chief objects in accordance with which political science courses are
presented to students of collegiate grade.

=Aims of instruction in government=

The aims of instruction in government are (1) to train for
citizenship; (2) to prepare for professions such as law, teaching,
business, and journalism; (3) to train experts and prepare specialists
for government positions; (4) to provide facilities and lead students
into research material and research methods. Each of these aims
affects to a certain extent a different class of students and renders
the problem as to methods of instruction correspondingly difficult.

=1. Training for citizenship=

In a certain sense all instruction may be looked upon as giving
training for the duties and responsibilities of citizenship, and
undoubtedly a great deal of instruction in other subjects aids in the
process of citizenship training. Nevertheless, a heavy responsibility
rests upon departments of political science to lead students into the
extensive literature on government as well as to instruct them with
respect to the organizations and methods by which the political and
social affairs are being conducted. In short, one of the primary aims
of government instruction and one which is kept foremost in the
arrangement of courses is elementary training for the average student
in the principles, the practices, and the technique of governmental
affairs. For such citizenship training, which is usually given in
large elementary classes, a special method of instruction and system
of procedure are pursued. It is necessary to provide subject matter
which is informational in character, as the lack of knowledge of the
governments of home and foreign countries is ordinarily appalling, and
which will open up by way of discussion and comparison many of the
leading problems of modern politics. More necessary and indispensable
is a method of study which will aid in pursuing inquiries along the
many and varied lines which will devolve upon the citizen performing
his multifarious duties and discharging his many responsibilities. As
many of the students will take but a single course, the opening up to
them of the vast field of government literature is one of the aims to
be constantly kept in mind. Moreover, while all of the above are
essential matters in the elementary courses, the most important
consideration of all is that the teaching of politics and government
will have utterly failed unless there are created a desire and an
interest which will lead into many lines of investigation beyond those
offered in a single introductory course. The development of this
interest and appreciation is the all-important object.

=2. Preparation for the professions=

Many who enter the introductory courses in government select the
subject with the idea of continuing their preparation for professional
life in their chosen fields. Among the professions which particularly
seek instruction in government are chiefly law, teaching, business,
and journalism. For these groups of students, many of whom continue
the study of the subject for several years, often going on into the
advanced courses in graduate departments, it is recognized that
beginning work which is too general and discursive may be less useful
than a specialized course which may be rounded out by a series of
correlated courses. Consequently, there is a question whether the
professional student, interested in the study of government, should
begin his work under the same conditions and with the same methods as
the student who does not expect to continue the subject. The number of
those who are preparing for the professions is often so large as to
require separate consideration and to affect seriously the
determination of the method and content of the introductory course.
This difficulty is obviated where professional courses are provided,
giving instruction in government and citizenship, as is now the
practice in certain law schools, in some departments of journalism,
and in a few engineering schools. For each of the major professions in
which government instruction is particularly sought a different type
of course is desired. For the law student comparative public law,
jurisprudence, and specialized government courses in various fields
are usually demanded. For the journalist, general subjects dealing
with specific countries and with the political practices of all
governments are regarded of special benefit. For the teaching
profession the study of some one line and specialization in a
particular field seem to be a necessity. Which is the better, such
specialized government courses for professional students, or a general
course for all introductory students, is still an undetermined
problem. The fact that most of the conditions and problems of
citizenship are similar for all these groups and that there is great
difficulty in providing separate instruction for each group renders it
necessary to provide an elementary course which is adapted to the
needs and which will serve the purpose of the citizen seeking a
general introduction in one course and the professional student who
seeks entrance to advanced courses.

=3. Training for public service and preparation of specialists for
government positions=

Colleges and universities have recently begun to give special
instruction for the training of those who desire to enter the
government service. A few institutions are offering courses and a
considerable number are beginning to adapt instruction which will be
of service not only to those who anticipate entrance into some form of
public work, but also to those who are engaged in performing public
service in some department of government. As a matter of fact, the
training of specialists must in large measure be cared for by
professional and technical schools, such as the provision for
directors of public health by medical schools, the training of
sanitary engineers by the engineering schools, the training of
accountants, statisticians, and financial experts by the schools of
commerce and finance. Nevertheless, departments offering instruction
in general political subjects are expected to give some consideration
to and to make special arrangements for advanced courses in the way of
preparing those who seek to enter the various divisions of the
government service, such as the consular and diplomatic affairs,
charitable and social work, and the administrative regulation of
public utilities, industrial affairs, and the public welfare. Through
the introduction of specialized courses in municipal, state, and
national administration it is possible to prepare more adequately for
various branches of public administration.

=4. Special courses in research and research methods=

Although research methods and graduate courses of instruction in
political science developed rather slowly, a substantial beginning has
been made by the universities in the offering of advanced courses in
which a specialized study is made of some of the problems of
government and the methods of administration. Through these courses
valuable contributions have been made to the historical and
comparative phases of the subject and to some extent to the analytical
study of government in operation. The primary aim has been to provide
an avenue and an opportunity for those who look forward to teaching or
to entering the field of special research work in politics and
governmental affairs. The results of the research work have been
rendered available to government officials and departments through
bureaus of research and other agencies devised to aid in improving the
public service. Only a few universities separate the graduate from the
undergraduate students, and as a result the instruction cannot be of
strictly graduate character and quality. Much of the present research
is done with small groups of students in a seminar where personal
direction is given to investigations and where the methods of research
are developed under direct supervision.

=Value of the subject=

Any determination of the value of a subject in the school curriculum
is necessarily based upon the opinions of individuals whose judgment
will vary in large measure according to their respective training,
influences, and predilections. The value of the subject which is
usually placed first is its usefulness in imparting information. Much
instruction in government is descriptive and informational in
character and is offered primarily to increase the stock of knowledge
and to give information with respect to the present and the future
interests of the citizen. While this descriptive material has served a
useful purpose, it is doubtful whether, as in the formal civics of the
public schools, the method of imparting information has not been used
so extensively as to have a detrimental effect. Too much attention has
been given to the memorization of facts and the temporary accumulation
of information more or less useful, and correspondingly too little to
thinking on the great political and social issues of the day.

When governments are engaging in endless activities which affect the
welfare of society in its social and æsthetic, as well as political
aspects, government instruction becomes increasingly necessary and
valuable as a cultural study. The recent development in European
political affairs has impressed upon the citizens of this country as
never before the results of a profound ignorance with respect to
conditions in foreign countries. While the knowledge of the affairs of
the great nations of the world has hitherto appeared advisable, it has
now come to be regarded as a necessity. From the standpoint of culture
a knowledge of the institutions of one's own country and of other
countries is one of the cardinal elements of education and provisions
for such instruction ought to be placed among the few primary topics
in the preparation of all educational programs. If culture involves an
understanding of the social and political conditions of the past and
present as well as some appreciation of the problems which confront
the individual in his activities of life, then the study of both
history and government must be given a foremost rank among the
subjects now classified as cultural.

With respect to formal discipline government instruction has been
rated lower than that of the more exact subjects, the languages and
mathematics. While it is true that from the standpoint of formal
discipline and exact methods government instruction has not measured
up to that of some other subjects, it must be remembered that the
standardization of instruction, and the methods pursued in other
subjects, have developed through a long process of years to the
present effectiveness in mental discipline. As the study of government
becomes more specialized, the material in the field worked into more
concrete form for purposes of instruction, the methods better
developed with the formulation of standard plans and principles, the
disciplinary value of the subject will be increased. The development
now in process is bringing about changes which will greatly enhance
not only the usefulness but in a large measure the disciplinary value
of the subject.

=Place in college curriculum=

Instruction in government is usually offered only to students who have
acquired sophomore standing. A few institutions now give a course in
government in the freshman year, and the practice seems to be meeting
with success. Sentiment is growing in favor of this plan. The argument
presented for this change is that a large percentage of the freshman
class does not continue college work, and consequently many students
have no opportunity to become acquainted with the special problems of
politics and government. To meet the need of those who spend but one
year in college, it is claimed that an introduction should be given to
the study of government problems. While there are strong reasons in
support of this change, the prevailing sentiment for the present
favors the requirement of a year's work in college as a prerequisite.
The advocates of this arrangement contend that in view of the fact
that most of the high schools are now giving a half of a year or a
year to civic instruction on somewhat the same plan as would be
necessary in a first-year college course, it seems better from the
standpoint of the student as well as of the department to defer the
introductory course until better methods of study and greater maturity
of mind are acquired.

Sophomore standing is the only prerequisite for the elementary course
except in a few institutions where the selection of a course in
history in the freshman year is required. A few colleges are offering
to freshmen an introductory course in the social sciences, comprising
mainly some elementary material from economics, sociology, and
political science. While there are some advantages in the effort to
give a general introduction to the social sciences, no practicable
content or method for such a course has yet been prepared. Moreover,
it seems likely now that such a general introduction will be
attempted either in the junior or in the senior high school. For
advanced work in the senior high school and for the introductory
college course reason and practice both favor a separation of these
subjects, with close correlation and constant consideration of the
interrelations.

=The introductory course=

It is customary to introduce students to the study of government
through a general course in American government, dealing briefly with
national, state, and local institutions. Other subjects, such as
comparative government,--including a consideration of some
representative foreign countries along with American government,--an
introductory course in political science, and international law, are
sometimes used as basic courses to introduce students to subsequent
work. The general practice in the introductory course seems to be
approaching a standard in which either American government is made the
basis of study, with comparisons from European practices and methods,
or European governments are studied, with attention by way of
comparison to the American system of government. The Committee of
Seven of the American Political Science Association offered the
following suggestions relative to the introductory course, which it
seems well to quote in full. The Committee recommended that:

     American government be taken as the basis for the introductory
     course because it is convinced that there is an imperative need
     for a more thorough study of American institutions, because the
     opportunity for this study is not now offered in any but a few of
     the best secondary schools, and because it is exceedingly
     important that the attention of an undergraduate be directed
     early in his course to a vital personal interest in his own
     government, national, state, and local. Instruction in political
     science is rarely given until the second or third year of the
     college work, and thus unless American government is selected for
     the first course only a small percentage of students receive
     encouragement and direction in the study of political affairs
     with which they will constantly be expected to deal in their
     ordinary relations as citizens. But the committee believes that
     this study of American government can be distinctly vitalized by
     the introduction of such comparisons with European practices and
     forms as will supply the student with a broader basis of
     philosophical conclusions as to constitutional development and
     administrative practices.

     The Committee is of the opinion that despite the very marked
     increase of courses in American government within the past few
     years, one of the immediate needs is the further extension and
     enlargement of these courses. In only a few institutions is
     enough time given to the subject to permit anything more than the
     most cursory survey of the various features of the government,
     and almost invariably state and local government suffer in the
     cutting process which is necessary. About seventy institutions
     only give courses in which state and local government are the
     basis of special study. In order that state and local government
     shall be given more consideration, and in order that judicial
     procedure and administrative methods shall receive more than
     passing notice, it is absolutely necessary that the time allotted
     to American government be increased. Nothing short of a full year
     of at least three hours a week gives the necessary time and
     opportunity do anything like full justice to the national, state,
     and local units.[42]


Because of the fact that only a small percentage of the student body
elects this course under present conditions, and because the majority
of those who do elect it never have an opportunity to continue the
study of government, it is thought that the selection of American
government for the beginning subject has the tendency to foster
provincialism. When but one course is taken this one, it is contended,
should deal with foreign governments, to supply a broader basis for
the comparison of political institutions. As the study of government
is introduced in the grades and thorough and effective instruction is
offered in the high school, it will become increasingly practicable to
introduce the comparative method in introductory courses.

=Sequence of courses=

One of the difficulties in the instruction in political science which
has received less consideration than it deserves is that of the sequence
of courses. In the determination of sequence it is customary to have an
introductory course, such as American government, European government,
or political theory, and to make this subject a prerequisite for all
advanced courses. As the introductory course requires sophomore
standing, it renders entrance into advanced courses open only to
students of junior rank or above. After passing the first course, there
are open for election a number of subjects, mainly along specialized
lines. This condition is to be found, particularly, in the large
universities, where a group of instructors offer specialized work, with
either little or no advice to students as to the proper arrangement or
sequence of courses. The ordinary classification is into three groups:
(1) an elementary course, prerequisite for advanced instruction; (2)
courses for graduate and undergraduate students, seldom arranged on a
basis of sequence or logical order;--the lack of sequence is due in part
to the fact that after taking elementary work the student in government
frequently wishes to specialize in the field of federal government, or
of state government, or of international law, or possibly of political
theory; (3) courses for graduate students, which are intended primarily
for investigation and research. Students who specialize in government
are generally advised by the head of the department or the professor
under whom their work is directed, as to the proper arrangement and
correlation of courses. It is, however, questionable whether some plan
of sequence more definitely outlined than that now to be found in most
catalogs ought not to be prepared in advance for the consideration of
those who look forward to specializing in political science. Such an
arrangement of sequence has been prepared by the department of political
science of the University of Chicago, which divides its work into (1)
elementary, (2) intermediate, (3) advanced--the advanced courses being
subdivided into (_a_) theory, (_b_) constitutional relations, (_c_)
public administration, and (_d_) law. Suggestions are offered as to the
principal and secondary sequences for various groups of students.

The sequence of courses could be better arranged provided a freshman
course were offered. A freshman course in American government could be
given, with some attention by way of comparison to European methods
and practices, and followed by an intermediate course dealing with
some select foreign governments, again using the comparative method
and viewpoint. Two courses of this character would offer a greater
opportunity to give the instruction now desired from the standpoint of
the average student and citizen, and would serve as a better basis for
advanced instruction than the single course now customarily offered
either in American or comparative government. After taking the
elementary courses the student could then be allowed to select from a
group of subjects in one of the various lines, according to the
special field in which he is interested. In short, the arrangement of
the sequence of courses will necessarily be unsatisfactory as long as
the elementary course is offered only to those of at least sophomore
rank, a practice which unfortunately necessitates in many cases the
beginning of the work in the junior or senior year. It will be
necessary to introduce the subject earlier in the curriculum, in order
to arrange such a sequence as would seem desirable from the standpoint
of thorough and effective instruction.

=Methods of instruction=

Methods of instruction[43] vary according to the size of the
institution and the number in the classes. In the preliminary courses
the system of informal lectures is combined with recitations,
discussions, reports, and quizzes. The students in the advanced
courses are obliged to carry on independent work under the
supervision of the instructor. For seniors and graduate students the
seminar has been found most satisfactory in developing a keen interest
in the problems of politics. Unfortunately, where the classes are
small and the time is limited, it is customary to rely largely on
textbooks and recitations, with a moderate amount of special readings
and occasional class reports. But, on the other hand, courses in
government have been improved recently by the appearance of good
textbooks. American and European governments are now presented in
texts which have proved satisfactory and which have aided in the
development of standard courses for these elementary subjects. Then,
too, interest has been aroused and better results obtained through the
use of texts and manuals dealing with the actual work and the problems
of government. The neglected fields of state government and
administrative practices are just beginning to receive attention.

One method of government instruction, and a very valuable one, is to
encourage the examination of evidence and to consider different
viewpoints on public questions, with the purpose of forming judgments
based on the facts. For this purpose extensive reading and frequent
reports are necessary to check up the work completed. It is possible
to keep in constant touch with the amount of work and the methods of
study or investigation by means of discussions in small sections for
one or two hours each week and by the use of the problem sheet.

In the courses offered in departments of government in such subjects
as constitutional law, international law, commercial law, and to some
extent in courses in jurisprudence and government regulation of public
utilities and social welfare, the case method has been adopted quite
extensively. This method has been sufficiently tried and its
effectiveness has been demonstrated in the teaching of law, so that
nothing need be said in its defense. The introduction of the case
method in political science and public law has undoubtedly improved
the teaching of certain phases of these subjects. That the use of
cases and extracts may be carried to an extreme which is detrimental
is becoming apparent, for opinions and data change so rapidly that any
collection of cases and materials is out of date before it issues from
the press. Moreover, the use of such collections encourages the
reliance on secondary sources and secondary material, a tendency which
ought to be discouraged. Every encouragement and advantage should be
given to have students and investigators in government deal with
original rather than secondary sources.

There is, in addition to the use of textbooks, lectures, extensive
reference reading, case books, and the writing of papers, a tendency
to introduce the problem method of instruction and to encourage field
work, observation, and, so far as practicable, a first-hand study of
government functions and activities.

Another line in which the study of government is undergoing
considerable modification is the emphasis placed on administration and
administrative practices. While special attention heretofore has been
given either to the history of politics and political institutions or
to political theories and principles, the tendency is now to give
import to political practices and the methods pursued in carrying on
government divisions and departments. The introduction of courses in
the principles of administration, with the consideration of problems
in connection with public administration in national, state, and local
affairs, is tending to modify the content as well as the methods of
the teaching of government. New methods and a new content are changing
the emphasis from the formal, theoretical, and historical study of
government and turning attention to the practical phases and to the
technique of administration. As a result of this change and through
the work which is being undertaken by bureaus of reference and
research, instruction is brought much closer to public officers and
greater service is rendered in a practical way to government
administration.

=Some unsolved problems=

Among the difficulties and unsolved problems in the teaching of
political science are, first, the beginning course; second, the
relation of courses in government to economics, sociology, history,
and law; third, the extent to which field investigation and the
problem method can be used to advantage in offering instruction and
the development of new standards and of new tests which are applicable
to these methods; fourth, the introduction of the scientific method.

=1. The introductory course=

While the elementary course in government is now usually American
government and is, as a rule, offered to sophomores, both the content
and the present position of the course in the curriculum are matters
on which there is considerable difference of opinion. Where the
subject matter now offered to beginning students is comprised of
comparative material selected from a number of modern governments, it
is contended that this arrangement is preferable to confining
attention to American institutions with which there is at least
general but often vague familiarity. If provision is made in the high
school, by which the majority of those who enter the university have
had a good course in American government, there seems to be a strong
presumption that the beginners' course should be devoted to
comparative government. It is quite probable that the introductory
course will cease to be confined to a distinct and separate study of
either foreign governments or of American government and that the most
satisfactory course will be the development of one in which main
emphasis is given to one or the other of these fields and in which
constant and frequent comparisons will be made for purposes of
emphasis, discussion, and the consideration of government issues and
problems. In some cases it is undoubtedly true that emphasis should be
given to foreign governments, and as the high schools improve their
instruction in our local institutions, national and state, it will
become increasingly necessary in colleges to turn attention to the
study of foreign governments in the beginners' course.

There appears to be a desire to introduce government into the freshman
year, and it is likely that provision will be made to begin the study
of the subject in the first college year, thereby rendering it
possible for those who enter college to profit by a year's work and to
give an earlier start to those who wish to specialize.

Another difficulty in connection with the introductory course which is
still not clearly determined is the time and attention which may be
given to lectures, to discussions, to the writing of papers or theses,
to the investigation and report on problems, and the extent to which
use may be made of some of the practical devices such as field
investigation. There is a general belief that in the elementary
course only a slight use may be made of practical methods, but that it
is necessary to begin these methods in the elementary years and to
render instruction practical and concrete to a larger extent than is
now done, by means of problems and the discussion of matters of direct
interest to all citizens. No doubt as the problem method and field
study are more definitely systematized and the ways of supervision and
checking up the work developed, these devices will be used much more
extensively. The preparation of problem sheets and of guides to the
selection of concrete material gives promise of a more general and
effective use of the problem method.

=2. Relation of instruction in government to other subjects=

The proper relationship and correlation of instruction in government
with that of other subjects has not yet been determined
satisfactorily. The matter of correlation is slowly being worked out
along certain lines; for example, the relationship between courses in
history and in government is coming to be much better defined. Such
subjects as constitutional history and the development of modern
governments are being treated almost entirely in departments of
history, and less attention is being given to the historical
development of institutions in departments of political science. As
long as it is impossible to make certain history courses prerequisites
before beginning the study of government, it becomes necessary to give
some attention in political science to the historical development of
political institutions. By correlation and by proper arrangement of
courses, however, the necessity of introducing government courses with
historical introductions ought to be considerably reduced.

The relation between work in government and in economics and sociology
is a more difficult problem and one which has not as yet been
satisfactorily adjusted. Some of the courses given in departments of
economics and sociology deal to a considerable extent with the
regulation of public affairs. In these courses, including public
finance, the regulation of public utilities, the regulation of trusts,
labor organizations, and the administration and regulation of social
and industrial affairs, a more definite correlation between political
science and so-called applied economics and applied sociology must be
made. While it is undoubtedly necessary for the economist and the
sociologist to deal with government regulation of economic and social
affairs, and while it is very desirable that these departments should
emphasize the practical and applied phases of their subjects, it is
nevertheless true that courses which are, to a large extent, comprised
of government instruction should be given under the direction of the
department of political science, or, at least, in an arrangement of
definite coöperation therewith. There is no reason why in such a
subject as the regulation of public utilities a portion of the course
might not be given in the department of economics and a portion in the
department of government. Or it may be better, perhaps, for a course
to be arranged in the regulation of public utilities, continuing
throughout the year, in which the professors of economics, government,
commerce, finance, and engineering participate in the presentation of
various phases of the same subject. At all events, the present
separation into different departments of the subject matter of
government regulation of such affairs as public utilities, taxation,
and social welfare regulation is, to say the least, not producing the
best results.

The relation of government courses to instruction in law is likewise a
partially unsolved problem. A few years ago, when the curricula of law
schools dealt with matters of law and procedure in which only the
practitioner was interested, it became necessary to introduce the
study of public law in departments of government and political
science. Thus we find courses in international law, constitutional
law, Roman law, and elements of law and jurisprudence being offered in
large part in departments of political science. The recent changes in
law school curricula, however, by which many of these subjects are now
offered in the law school and in some cases are offered to qualified
undergraduate students, render the situation somewhat more difficult
to adjust. There is a tendency to introduce these courses into the
law school for law students and to offer a similar course in the
department of government for undergraduates and graduates. The problem
has been further complicated by the provision in some of the leading
law schools of a fourth year, in which the dominant courses relate to
public and international law, legal history and foreign law,
jurisprudence and legislative problems.[44] As these courses become
entirely legal in nature and content and require a background of three
years of law, it becomes practically impossible for any but law
students to be admitted to them. With the prospect of a permanent
arrangement for a fourth year of law devoted primarily to subjects
formerly given in departments of political science, it seems to be
necessary to provide instruction in constitutional law and
international law, at least, for those advanced students in political
science who seek this instruction but who do not expect to take the
private law instruction required to admit them to a fourth-year law
class. The preferable arrangement may prove to be one in which a
thorough course is offered which will be open to qualified seniors and
graduate students and to law students, thus avoiding the duplication
which is now characteristic of instruction in law and the public law
phases of government. In this matter, as in the relation of economics
and sociology, the most appropriate and effective adjustment for
coöperation remains to be formulated.

=3. Problem method of instruction=

As the criticism of eminent specialists in government and politics has
impressed upon instructors the idea that too large a portion of the
teaching of the subject is theoretical, treating of what ought to be
rather than of what actually occurs, dealing with facts only on a
limited scale and with superficial attention to actual conditions,
there has developed the necessity of revising the methods of
instruction. This revision is being made largely in the introduction
of field investigation, observation of government activities, and the
problem and research methods. The prevailing practice of the teaching
of politics, which involves lectures, recitations, and the reading and
writing of theses, with a considerable amount of supplementary work,
is being revised by means of a research and reference division, by the
constant use of field investigation and by the study of governmental
problems. The difficulty with all these devices lies in the indefinite
and vague way in which so much of this work must be done. For the
present, in only a few instances, such as the New York Bureau of
Municipal Research, has the technique for field investigation and the
research method been effectively developed. One of the chief lines for
the improvement of the teaching of government is in the
standardization and systematization of the problem method and its more
extensive use in the elementary and advanced government instruction.

=4. Introduction of the scientific method=

In the past and to a great extent at the present time that part of the
study of government which has to do with political theory and with a
descriptive and historical account of government has comprised the
greater portion of what is usually designated as political science.
The nature of these studies is such as to render inapplicable the use
of the scientific method. If the study of government is to be
developed as a science in the true sense, then the above subjects must
be supplemented by exhaustive inductive studies and research in the
actual operation of government. Such methods are now being employed in
the examination of government records and the comparison of
administrative practices. And there is being developed also a science
of government based on the practices and the technique of public
administration.

This science now finds its exemplification in some of the exceptional
work of the graduate schools. Unfortunately, the connection between
these schools and the government departments has not been such as to
secure the best results. Moreover, departments of political science
are not now doing their part to place the results of scientific
investigations at the disposal of government officials. The
introduction of courses in extension departments and evening classes
has in part met this deficiency. But much remains to be done to render
through the department of political science effective service in the
practical operation of government. With the introduction of the
problem method and field investigation in the elementary instruction,
so far as seems feasible, with the development of standard methods and
the technique of research for advanced instruction, the teaching of
government will be rendered not only more valuable to the citizen, but
colleges and universities may render aid to government officials and
citizens interested in social and political affairs.

A significant development as an aid for research and for rendering
more effective public service has come in the establishment of bureaus
of government research. The method of investigation and research which
has been applied to the problems of government by private
organizations has been found applicable to the handling of research
material in the universities. Through a bureau of this character
recent publications and ephemeral material may be collected for the
use of advanced students, digests may be prepared on topics of special
interest to legislators and administrators, and publications of
particular interest to the citizens may be issued. Such a bureau
serves as a government laboratory for the university and can be placed
at the service of public officials and others who desire to use a
reference department in securing reliable data on governmental
affairs. Thus it is coming to be realized that research in government
may be encouraged and the resources of higher institutions may be so
organized as to render a distinct and much appreciated public service.

                                           CHARLES GROVE HAINES
  _University of Texas_


BIBLIOGRAPHY

ALLIX, E. H. NÉZARD, and MEUNIER, A. _Instruction Civique._ Paris, F.
Juven, 1910; pages 238. American Political Science Association.
Report of the Committee on Instruction in Political Science in
Colleges and Universities. _Proceedings_, 1913; pages 249-270.

---- Report of Committee of Seven on Instruction in Colleges and
Universities. _Political Science Review_, Vol. IX, pages 353-374.

---- The Teaching of Government. Report to the American Political
Science Association by the Committee on Instruction. The Macmillan
Company, 1916; pages 135-226.

BALDWIN, SIMEON E. _The Relations of Education to Citizenship._ Yale
University Press, 1912; pages 178.

BEACH, W. G. The College and Citizenship. _Proceedings of the
Washington Educational Association._ School Journal Publishing Co.,
1908; pages 55-57.

BEARD, C. A. _The Study and Teaching of Politics._ Columbia University
Press, June, 1912; Vol. XII, pages 268-274.

---- _Politics_, Columbia University Press, 1912; pages 35.

---- _Training for Efficient Public Service._ Annals of the American
Academy of Political and Social Science, March, 1916.

BOITEL, J., and FOIGUET, R. _Notions elementaires d'instruction
civique de droit usuel et d'économie politique._ Paris, Delagrave,
1910; pages 307.

BOURGUEIL, E. _Instruction civique._ Paris: F. Nathan, 1910; pages
223.

BRYCE, JAMES. _The Hindrances to Good Citizenship._ Yale University
Press, 1910; pages 138.

DROWN, THOMAS M. Instruction in Municipal Government in American
Educational Institutions. _National Municipal League: Proceedings_,
Boston, 1902; pages 268-271.

FAIRLIE, JOHN A. Instruction in Municipal Government. _National
Municipal League: Proceedings_, Detroit, 1903; pages 222-230.

FREUND, ERNST. Correlation of Work for Higher Degrees in Graduate
School and Law School. _Illinois Law Review_, Vol. XI, page 301.

HALL, G. STANLEY. Civic Education. _Educational Problems_, New York,
1911, Vol. II, pages 667-682.

HILL, DAVID J. _A Plan for a School of the Political Sciences._ 1907,
pages 34.

HINMAN, GEORGE W. The New Duty of American colleges. 63d Congress, 1st
session. Senate Document No. 236, 1913.

LOWELL, A. LAWRENCE. Administrative Experts in Municipal Governments.
_National Municipal Review_, Vol. IV, pages 26-32.

---- The Physiology of Politics, _American Political Science Review_,
February, 1910.

---- _Public Opinion and Popular Government_, Chapters 17-19.

MOREY, WILLIAM C. _American Education and American Citizenship._
Rochester, N. Y., pages 20.

MUNRO, W. B. The Present Status of Instruction in Municipal Government
in the Universities and Colleges of the United States. _National
Municipal League: Proceedings._ Pittsburgh, 1908, pages 348-366.

---- Instruction in Municipal Government in the Universities and
Colleges of the United States. _National Municipal Review_, Vol. II,
pages 427-438, and Vol. V, pages 565-574.

National Municipal League. Report of the Committee on Instruction in
Municipal Government. _Proceedings_, Rochester, 1901; pages 218-225.

Report of the Committee on Organized Coöperation between the
Massachusetts Institute of Technology and the Commonwealth of
Massachusetts. _Bulletin of the Alumni Association_, 1914, No. 3.

Report of the Committee on Training for Public Service. Columbia
University. Charles A. Beard, Chairman. _Bulletin_, March 27, 1915.

ROBINSON, FREDERICK B. The Municipal Courses. _City College (N. Y.)
Quarterly_, Vol. XII, page 18.

ROWE, J. S. University and Collegiate Research in Municipal
Government. _National Municipal League: Proceedings._ Chicago, 1904,
pages 242-248.

SCHAPER, W. A. What Do Students Know about American government before
Taking College Courses in Political Science? _Journal of Pedagogy_,
June, 1906. Vol. XVIII, pages 265-288.

Society for the Promotion of Training for the Public Service. E. A.
Fitzpatrick, Director. Madison, Wisconsin. _The Public Servant._
Issued monthly.

---- Universities and Public Service. _Proceedings of the First
National Conference._ Madison, 1914, pages 289.

Training for Public Service. New York Bureau of Municipal Research,
Annual Reports.

WHITE, A. D. The Provision for Higher Instruction Bearing Directly
upon Public Affairs. _House Executive Document No. 42_, part 2, 46th
Congress, 3d Session.

---- Education in Political Science. Baltimore, pages 51.

---- European Schools of History and Politics. _Johns Hopkins
University Studies_, Series 5, Vol. XII.

WILSON, WOODROW. _The Study of Politics. An Old Master and Other
Essays._ Charles Scribner's Sons, 1893, pages 31-57.

WOLFE, A. B. Shall We Have an Introductory Course in Social Sciences?
_Journal of Political Economy_, Vol. XXII, pages 253-267.

YOUNG, JAMES T. University Instruction in Municipal Government.
_National Municipal League: Proceedings._ Rochester, 1901; pages
226-234.


Footnotes:

[40] The courses usually given in departments of political science
are:

  1. American government, (_a_) National, (_b_) State and local,
     (_c_) Municipal.
  2. General political science.
  3. Comparative government.
  4. English government.
  5. International law.
  6. Diplomacy.
  7. Jurisprudence or elements of law.
  8. World politics.
  9. Commercial law.
  10. Roman law.
  11. Administrative law.
  12. Political theories (History of political thought).
  13. Party government.
  14. Colonial government.
  15. Legislative methods and legislative procedure.
  16. Current political problems.
  17. Municipal corporations.
  18. Law of officers and taxation.
  19. Seminar.
  20. Additional courses, such as the government of foreign countries, the
      regulation of public utilities, and the political and legal status of
      women.

Cf. _The Teaching of Government_, page 137. Published by the Macmillan
Company, 1916. With the permission of the publishers some extracts
from the report of the committee on instruction have been used. The
report should be consulted for the presentation of data and for a
further consideration of some questions of instruction which cannot be
taken up fully within the compass of this chapter.

[41] Cf. _The Teaching of Government_, page 182.

[42] _The Teaching of Government_, pages 206-207.

[43] The discussion of methods follows in part the Report of the
Committee on Instruction, pages 192-194.

[44] See especially article by Ernst Freund on "Correlation of Work
for Higher Degrees in Graduate School and Law School," Vol. XI,
_Illinois Law Review_, page 301.



XIV

THE TEACHING OF PHILOSOPHY


The study of philosophy covers such a wide range of subjects that it
is difficult to generalize in attempting to answer the basal questions
which call for consideration in a book like this. In the great
European universities it includes psychology, logic, ethics,
æsthetics, epistemology, metaphysics, the history of philosophy, and
sometimes even the philosophy of religion, the philosophy of history,
the philosophy of law, and the philosophy of the State. Although
special courses may not be offered in every one of these fields in our
American colleges, their philosophical territory is sufficiently
extensive and the separate provinces sufficiently unlike to baffle any
one seeking to describe the educational aims and methods of the domain
as a whole. In order, therefore, to do full justice to our task it
would be necessary to treat each one of the various philosophical
branches separately and to expand the space assigned to us into a
fair-sized volume. Since this is not to be thought of, we shall have
to confine ourselves to a consideration of the traits common to all
the subjects, without forgetting, however, such differences as may
call for different educational treatment.

=The unified college course in philosophy=

The difficulty of which we have spoken becomes less formidable when
the teacher of the traditional philosophical subjects regards them not
as so many independent and disconnected fields of study, but as parts
of a larger whole held together by some central idea. The great
systematic thinkers, from Plato down to Herbert Spencer, have aimed at
"completely unified knowledge" and have sought to bring order and
coherence into what may seem to the casual onlooker as a disunited
array of phenomena. Philosophical teaching will be the more fruitful,
the more it is inspired by the thought of unity of aim, and the more
consciously the teachers of the different disciplines keep this idea
in mind. That is the reason why philosophical instruction given in a
small college and by one man is, in some respects, often more
satisfactory than in the large university with its numberless
specialists, in which the beginning student frequently does not see
the forest for the trees. It is not essential that the teacher present
a thoroughly worked-out and definitive system of thought, but it is
important that he constantly keep in mind the interrelatedness of the
various parts of his subject and the notion of unity which binds them
together,--at least as an ideal.

And perhaps this notion of the unity of knowledge ought to be made one
of the chief aims of philosophical instruction in the college. The
ideal of philosophy in the sense of metaphysics is to see things
whole, to understand the interrelations not only of the branches
taught in the department of philosophy but of all the diverse subjects
studied throughout the university. The student obtains glimpses of
various pictures presented by different departments and different men,
and from different points of view. Each teacher offers him fragments
of knowledge, the meaning of which, as parts of an all-inclusive
system, the pupil does not comprehend. Indeed, it frequently happens
that the different pieces do not fit into one another; and he is
mystified and bewildered by the seemingly disparate array of facts and
theories crowding his brain which he cannot correlate and generally
does not even suspect of being capable of correlation. To be sure,
every teacher ought to be philosophical, if not a philosopher, and
indicate the place of his specialty in the universe of knowledge; but
that is an ideal which has not yet been realized. In the meanwhile,
the study of philosophy ought to make plain that knowledge is not a
mere heap of broken fragments, that the inorganic, organic, and mental
realms are not detached and independent principalities but kingdoms in
a larger empire, and that the world in which we live is not a chaos
but a cosmos. An introductory course in philosophy, the type of course
given in many German universities under the title "Einleitung in die
Philosophie" and attended by students from all sections of the
university, will help the young student to find his bearings in the
multifarious thought-world unfolded before him and will, at the same
time, put him in the way of developing some sort of world-view later
on.

Philosophical instruction that succeeds in the task outlined above
will have accomplished much. Nevertheless, it cannot attain its goal
unless the student is introduced to the study of the human-mental
world which constitutes a large portion of the field assigned to the
philosophical department: the study of psychology, logic, ethics, and
the history of philosophy. These branches deal with things in which
the human race has been interested from its early civilized beginnings
and with which the young persons entering college have had little or
no opportunity of becoming acquainted. And they deal with a world
which no man can ignore who seeks to understand himself and his
relation to the natural and social environment in which his lot is
cast. A knowledge of the processes of mind (psychology), of the laws
of thought (logic), of the principles of conduct (ethics), and of the
development of man's interpretation of reality (history of philosophy)
will supplement the knowledge acquired by the study of physical
nature, preventing a one-sided and narrow world-view, and will serve
as a preparation for intelligent reflection upon the meaning of
reality (philosophy in the sense of metaphysics).

=Controlling aims in the teaching of philosophy=

All these subjects, therefore, have as one of their aims the training
of the powers of thought (judgment and reasoning); and philosophical
teaching should never lose sight of this. Thinking is a difficult
business,--an art which is practiced, to be sure, in every field of
study, but one for which the philosophical branches provide unusual
opportunity and material. It has become a habit with many of recent
years to decry the study of logic as an antiquated discipline, but it
still remains, if properly taught, an excellent means of cultivating
clear thinking; there is no reason why a consciousness of correct
ways of thinking and of the methods employed in reaching reliable
judgments should not prove useful to every one.

We should say, therefore, that the study of philosophy has a high
cultural value: it encourages the student to reflect upon himself and
his human and natural surroundings (society and nature) and to come to
grips with reality; it frees him from the incubus of transmitted
opinions and borrowed beliefs, and makes him earn his spiritual
possessions in the sweat of his face,--mindful of Goethe's warning
that "he alone deserves freedom and life who is compelled to battle
for them day by day";--it helps him to see things in their right
relations, to acquire the proper intellectual and volitional attitude
toward his world through an understanding of its meaning and an
appreciation of its values; in short, it strengthens him in his
struggle to win his soul, to become a person. This is its ideal; and
in seeking to realize it, philosophy coöperates with the other studies
in the task of developing human beings, in preparing men for complete
living, and is therefore practical in a noble sense of the term. It
has a high disciplinary value in that it trains the powers of analysis
and judgment, at least in the fields in which it operates. And the
habit acquired there of examining judgments, hypotheses, and beliefs
critically and impartially, of testing them in the light of experience
and of reason, cannot fail to prove helpful wherever clear thinking is
a requisite.

The teacher should keep all these aims in view in organizing his
material and applying his methods. He should not forget that
philosophy is above all things a reflection upon life; he should
endeavor to train his pupils in the art of interpreting human
experience, of grasping its meaning. His chief concern should be to
make _thinkers_ of them, not to fasten upon them a final philosophic
creed,--not to give them a philosophy, but to teach them how to
philosophize. If he succeeds in arousing in them a keen intellectual
interest and a love of truth, and in developing in them the will and
the power to think a problem through to the bitter end, he will have
done more for them than would have been possible by furnishing them
with ready-made formulas. There is nothing so hopelessly dead as a
young man without the spirit of intellectual adventure, with his mind
made up, with the master's ideas so deeply driven into his head that
his intellectual career is finished. The Germans call such a person
_vernagelt_, a term that fitly describes the case. What should be
aimed at is the cultivation of the mind so that it will broaden with
enlarging experience, that it will be hospitable to new ideas and yet
not be overwhelmed by them, that it will preserve inviolate its
intellectual integrity and keep fresh the spirit of inquiry. Such a
mind may be safely left to work out its own salvation in the quest for
a _Weltanschauung_.

    "Young, all lay in dispute; I shall know, being old."


In emphasizing the need of such central aims in instruction we do not
wish to be understood as not appreciating the utilitarian value of the
philosophical branches and their importance as a preparation for
professional activity. Like all knowledge, these subjects have their
worth not merely as means of developing human personality but also as
means of equipping the student with such knowledge of facts, methods,
and theories as will prove useful to him in his other studies and in
the daily affairs of life. The teacher, the physician, the lawyer, the
clergyman, the artist, the engineer, the business man, will be
benefited by an understanding of the workings of the human mind, of
the laws of human thinking, and of the principles of human conduct. It
is not absolutely necessary, however, in our opinion, that separate
classes specially designed for the different professions be formed in
the colleges; after all, it is the same human mind that operates in
all the fields of human activity, and a knowledge of mental life in
general will serve the purposes of every vocation. Doubtless, courses
in psychology, logic, and ethics, for example, might be offered having
in view the particular needs of prospective members of the various
callings, but such courses would, in order to meet the situation,
presuppose an acquaintance with the respective professional fields in
question which only students well along in their professional studies
could be expected to possess. Courses of this character might
profitably be given for the benefit of professional students who have
already taken the introductory subjects necessary to their proper
understanding.

=Introduction of philosophy in the college course=

It is not easy to determine the most favorable period in a student's
college career at which philosophical subjects should be taught. The
more mature the student is, the more successful the instruction is apt
to be; but this may be said of many other studies. There is no reason
why an intelligent freshman may not begin the study of psychology and
logic and perhaps of some other introductory philosophical branches;
but as a rule better results may be obtained by admitting only such
persons to these classes as have familiarized themselves with
university methods.

=Problems of philosophy and the development of thought to be emphasized,
rather than the historical sequence=

We should recommend that every student in the college devote at least
three hours a week for four terms to the study of psychology, logic,
ethics, and the history of philosophy. In case not all these
fundamental courses can be taken, the student will most likely derive
the greatest benefit by giving a year to the study of the history of
philosophy, or one term to the introduction to philosophy, where he
has only that much time at his disposal. It seems easier, however, to
arouse a philosophical interest in the average student through a study
of the basal philosophical questions from the standpoint of
contemporaneous thinking than through the study of the history of
philosophy. He is generally lacking in the historic sense, and is apt
to be wearied and even confused by the endless procession of systems.
This is particularly the case when the teacher fails to emphasize
sufficiently the progressive nature of philosophical thinking in its
history, when he regards this as a mere succession of ideas rather
than as a more or less logical unfolding of problems and solutions--as
a continuous effort on the part of the universal mind, so to speak,
to understand itself and the world. A course in the introduction to
philosophy acquainting the student with the aims of philosophy and its
relation to other fields of study, and placing before him an account
of the most important problems of metaphysics and epistemology as well
as of the solutions which have been offered by the great thinkers,
together with such criticisms and suggestions as may stimulate his
thought, will awaken in him a proper appreciation of a deeper study of
the great systems and lead him to seek light from the history of
philosophy.

=Methods of instruction=

The place and relative worth of the various methods of instruction in
the province of philosophy will, of course, depend, among other
things, upon the character of the particular subject taught and the
size and quality of the class. In nearly all the introductory
philosophical branches in which the classes are large the lecture
method will prove a valuable auxiliary. In no case, however, should
this method be employed exclusively; and in formal logic, it should be
used rather sparingly. Ample opportunity should always be given in
smaller groups for raising questions and discussing important issues
with a view to clearing up obscure points, overcoming difficulties,
developing the student's powers of thought, and enabling him to
exercise his powers of expression. It is also essential that the
student be trained in the difficult art of reading philosophical
works. It is wise as a rule to refer him to a good textbook, which
should be carefully studied, to passages or chapters in other standard
manuals, and in historical study to the writings of the great masters.
And frequent opportunity to express himself in the written word must
be afforded him; to this end written reports giving the thought of an
author in the student's own language, occasional critical essays, and
written examinations appealing not only to his memory but to his
intelligence should be required during the term. Such exercises keep
the student's interest alive, increase his stock of knowledge, develop
maturity and independence of thought, and create a sense of growing
intellectual power. The written tests encourage members of the class
to review the work gone over and to discuss with one another important
phases of it; in the effort to organize their knowledge they obtain a
much better grasp of the subject than would have been possible without
such an intensive re-appraisal of the material.

=Logic to be related to the intellectual life of the student=

In the course on formal logic a large part of the time should be spent
in examining and criticizing examples of the processes of thought
studied (definitions, arguments, methods employed in reaching
knowledge) and in applying the principles of correct thinking in
written discourses. It is a pity that we have no comprehensive work
containing the illustrative material needed for the purpose. As it is,
the teacher will do well to select his examples from scientific works,
speeches, and the textbooks used in other classes. As every one knows,
nothing is so likely to deaden the interest and to make the study of
logic seem trivial as the use of the puerile examples found in many of
the older treatises. With the proper material this subject can be made
one of the most interesting and profitable courses in the
curriculum,--in spite of what its modern detractors may say.

=Students to be familiarized with sources and original writings of the
leading philosophers=

In the history of philosophy the lectures and textbook should be
supplemented by the reading of the writings of the great philosophers.
Wherever it is possible, the learner should be sent to the sources
themselves. It will do him good to finger the books and to find the
references; and by and by he may be tempted to read beyond the
required assignment--a thing greatly to be encouraged, and out of the
question so long as he limits himself to some one's selections from
the writings of the philosophers.

In the advanced courses the research method may be introduced; special
problems may be assigned to the student who has acquired a knowledge
of the fundamentals, to be worked out under the guidance of the
instructor.

=Lecture method should arouse dynamic interest and a desire to master
the problems of philosophy=

In the lecture intended for beginners the teacher should seek to
arouse in his hearers an interest in the subject and the desire to
plunge more deeply into it. He should not bewilder the student with
too many details and digressions but present the broad outlines of the
field, placing before him the essentials and leaving him to fill in
the minutiæ by a study of the books of reference. Each lecture ought
to constitute an organic whole, as it were, in which the different
parts are held together by a central idea; and its connection with the
subject matter of the preceding lectures should be kept before the
hearer's mind. All this requires careful and conscientious preparation
on the part of the teacher, who must understand the intellectual
quality of his class and avoid "shooting over their heads" as well as
going to the other extreme of aiming below the level of their mental
capacities. Lecturing that is more than mere entertainment is an art
which young instructors sometimes look upon as an easy acquisition and
which older heads, after long years of experience, often despair of
ever mastering. The lecture aims to do what books seldom
accomplish--to infuse life and spirit into the subject; and this ideal
a living personality may hope to realize where a dead book fails.

=How to secure active participation by students through lecture method=

In order, however, that the philosophical lecture may not fail of its
purpose, the hearer must be more than a mere listener; he must bring
with him an alert mind that grasps meanings and can follow
thought-sequences. And he cannot keep his attention fixed upon the
discourse and understand the relations of its parts unless other
senses coöperate with the sense of hearing and unless the motor
centers are called into play also. He should carefully cultivate the
art of taking notes, an accomplishment in which the average student is
sadly lacking and to acquire which he needs the assistance of the
instructor, which he seldom receives. An examination of the student's
notebook frequently reveals such a woeful lack of discrimination on
the writer's part that one is led to doubt the wisdom of following
this method at all; wholly unimportant things are set down in faithful
detail and essential ones wholly ignored. The hour spent in the
lecture room, however, can and should be made a fruitful means of
instruction, one that will awaken processes of thought and leave its
mark. But in order to get the best result, the student should be urged
to study his notes and the books to which he has been referred while
the matters discussed in the lecture are still fresh in his mind; he
will be able to clear up points he did not fully grasp, see
connections that have escaped him, understand the force of arguments
which he missed; and he will assume a more independent and critical
attitude toward what he has heard than was possible on the spur of the
moment, when he was driven on and could not stop and reflect. At home,
in the quiet of his study, he can organize the material, see the parts
of the discourse in their relations to each other, and re-create the
whole as it lived and moved in the mind of the teacher. In doing this
work he is called on to exercise his thinking and takes an important
step forward. It is for this reason that I am somewhat skeptical of
the value of the syllabus prepared by the teacher for the use of
classes in philosophy,--it does for the student what he should do for
himself. Whatever value the syllabus may have in other fields of
study, its use in the philosophical branches ought to be discouraged.
The great weakness of the lecture method lies in its tendency to
relieve the hearer of the necessity of doing his own thinking, to
leave him passive, to feed him with predigested food; and this defect
is augmented by providing him with "helps" which rob him of the
benefit and pleasure of putting the pieces of the puzzle-picture
together himself.

However, even at its best, the lecture method, unless supplemented in
the ways already indicated, runs the danger of making the student an
intellectual sponge, a mere absorber of knowledge, or a kind of
receptacle for professors to shoot ideas into. As was said before, the
student must cultivate the art of reading books and of expressing his
thoughts by means of the spoken and written word. At the early stages
and in some fields of philosophical study, however, the reading of
many books may confuse the beginner and leave his mind in a state of
bewilderment. It is indispensable that he acquire the working concepts
and the terminology of the subject, and to this end it is generally
wise to limit his reading until he has gained sufficient skill in
handling his tools, as it were. In the elementary courses many members
of the class will be unable to do more than follow the lectures and
study the textbook; the more gifted ones, however, should be
encouraged to extend the range of their reading under the guidance of
the instructor.

=Organization of undergraduate courses in philosophy=

An answer to the question concerning the desired sequence of courses
in philosophy will depend upon many considerations,--upon one's
conception of philosophy and of the various subjects generally
embraced under it, upon one's notion of the aims of philosophical
instruction, upon one's estimate of the difficulties encountered by
the student in the study of the different branches of it, and so on.
There is wide divergence of opinion among thinkers on all these
points. Philosophy is variously conceived as metaphysics, as theory of
knowledge, as the science of mind (_Geisteswissenschaft_), as the
science of values (_Werttheorie_), or as all of these together. Logic
is conceived by some thinkers as dependent upon psychology, by others
as the presupposition of _all_ the sciences, including psychology.
Ethics is regarded both as a branch of psychology, or as dependent
upon psychology, and as an independent study having nothing whatever
to do with psychology. Psychology itself is treated both as a natural
science, its connection with philosophy being explained as a
historical survival, and as the fundamental study upon which all the
other subjects of the philosophical department must rest. Where there
is such a lack of agreement, it will not be easy to map out a
sequential course of study that will satisfy everybody. Even when
philosophy is defined in the old historic sense as an attempt to reach
a theory of the world and of life, men may differ as to the exact
order in which the basal studies should be pursued. By many the
history of philosophy is considered the best introduction to the
entire field, while others would place it at the end of the series of
fundamentals (psychology, logic, ethics), holding that a student who
has studied these will be best equipped for a study that includes the
history of their development. As a matter of fact, given students of
mature mind and the necessary general preparation, either order may be
justified. The average underclassman is, however, too immature to
plunge at once into the study of the history of philosophy, and the
present writer would recommend that it be preceded by courses in
general psychology, logic and ethics. The average sophomore will have
little difficulty in following courses in psychology and logic; and it
is immaterial which of these he takes up first. The course in the
theory of ethics should come in the junior or senior year and after
the student has gained some knowledge of psychology (preferably from a
book like Stout's _Manual of Psychology_). And it would be an
advantage if the course in ethics could be preceded by a study of the
development of moral ideas, of the kind, let us say, presented in
Hobhouse's _Morals in Evolution_. For reasons already stated, the
entire course in philosophy should be inaugurated by the Introduction
to Philosophy. Advanced courses in metaphysics and the theory of
knowledge should come at the end and follow the history of philosophy.
The ideal sequence would, therefore, be in the view of the present
writer: Introduction to Philosophy, Psychology or Logic, the
Development of Moral Ideas, Theory of Ethics, History of Philosophy,
Metaphysics, and Theory of Knowledge. It must be admitted, however,
that a rigorous insistence upon this scheme in the American college,
in which freedom of election is the rule, would impair the usefulness
of the department of philosophy. Few students will be willing to take
all these subjects, and there is no reason why an intelligent junior
or senior should not be admitted to a course in ethics or the history
of philosophy without having first studied the other branches. A
person possessing sufficient maturity of mind to pursue these studies
will be greatly benefited by them even when he comes to them without
previous preparation; and it would be a pity to deprive him of the
opportunity to become acquainted with a field in which some of the
ablest thinkers have exercised their powers. At all events, he should
not leave college without having had a course in the history of
philosophy, which will open up a new world to him and may perhaps
stimulate him to read the best books in the other branches later on.

It would not be possible, of course, to prescribe all the fundamental
philosophical courses, even if it were desirable,--few faculties would
go so far,--but it would be wise to require every candidate for the
bachelor's degree to give at least six hours of his time (three hours
a term, on the two-term basis) to one or two of the elementary
courses, preferably in the sophomore year. Ethics and the history of
philosophy could then be chosen as electives and be followed by the
more advanced and specialized courses.

=Moot questions: controversy between philosopher and psychologist=

We have already touched upon some of the debatable questions in the
sphere of philosophical education. The dispute concerning the place of
psychology in the scheme of philosophical instruction has its cause in
differences of view concerning the aims, nature, and methods of that
subject. Philosophers ask for an introductory course in psychology
which shall serve as a propaedeutic to the philosophical studies,
while teachers of education wish to have it treated in a way to throw
light upon educational methods and theory. "Some biologists treat
mental phenomena as mere correlates of physiological processes....
Others, including a number of psychologists also, regard psychological
phenomena as fully explicable in terms of behavior, and as
constituting therefore a phase of biological science." The Committee
of the American Psychological Association on the Academic Status of
Psychology recommends "that the Association adopt the principle that
the undergraduate psychological curriculum in every college or
university, great or small, should be planned from the standpoint of
psychology and in accordance with psychological ideals, rather than to
fit the needs and meet the demands of some other branch of
learning."[45] This declaration of principle might lead to peace
between the philosophers and the psychologists if there were agreement
concerning the "psychological ideals" in accordance with which the
subject is to be studied. The desideratum of the philosophers is a
psychology which will give the student an understanding of the various
phases of mental life; but they do not believe that this can be
reached by an exclusive use of the natural-scientific method. The
objection of some psychologists, that the philosophers wish to inject
metaphysics into the study of mental processes, is met by the
rejoinder that the natural-scientific psychology is itself based upon
an unconscious metaphysics, and a false one at that. What the
philosophers desire is psychological courses which will do full
justice to the facts of the mental life and not falsify them to meet
the demands of a scientific theory or method--courses of the kind
given in European universities by men whose reputation as
psychologists is beyond suspicion.

=Divergent views as to nature of introductory course in philosophy=

We have likewise alluded, in this chapter, to the controversy over the
need and nature of an introductory course in philosophy. Of those who
favor such a philosophical propaedeutic some recommend the History of
Philosophy, others an Introduction to Philosophy of the type described
in the preceding pages. Some teachers regard as the ideal course a
study of the evolving attitudes of the individual toward the world,
after the manner of Hegel's Phenomenology of the Spirit; some the
Philosophy of History; some _Kulturgeschichte_, that is, the study of
"the evolution of science, morality, art, religion, and political
life,--in short, the history of institutions"; some the study of the
great literatures; and some would seek the approach to the subject
through the religious interest.[46] It is plain that the History of
Philosophy will receive help from all these sources; and a wise
teacher will make frequent use of them. Nor can the course in the
Introduction to Philosophy afford to ignore them; it will do well to
lay particular stress upon the philosophical attitudes, the embryonic
philosophies which are to be found in the great literatures, in the
great religions, in science, and in the common sense of mankind.
Wherever the human mind is at work, there philosophical
conceptions,--world-views, crude or developed,--play their part; and
they form the background of the lives of peoples as well as of
individuals. In the systems of the great thinkers they are formulated
and made more or less consistent; but everywhere they are the result
of the mind's yearning to understand the meaning of life in its
manifold expressions. When the student comes to see that philosophy is
simply an attempt to do what mankind has always been doing and will
always continue to do, in a rough way, that it is "only an unusually
obstinate attempt to think clearly and consistently,"--to continue the
process of thinking to the bitter end,--his attitude toward it will be
one of intelligent interest and respect. But not one of these subjects
taken by itself will serve the purpose of an introductory course.

=The "case method" in the teaching of philosophy=

Another moot question is concerned with the use of the "case method,"
employed in law instruction, in ethics. The case method seeks to know
what the moral law is by studying the moral judgments of society; or,
more definitely, to quote the words of Professor Coxe,[47] one of its
champions: "to discover, if possible, a law running through the
judgments _which society has made through its duly appointed
officials_." "Historical cases, properly attested, alone give us the
means of objective judgment." There can be no doubt that this method
will prove serviceable, if judiciously applied; but its exclusive use
either as a method of study or as a method of instruction,--even in an
introductory course in ethics,--is not to be recommended.[48] The
student will not gain an adequate conception of morality from a study
of the varying and often contradictory "historical cases," much less
from a study of the judgments which society has made "through its duly
appointed officials." The legal "case" literature of our country does
indeed furnish valuable and interesting material for ethical study,
but it would require a riper mind than that of a beginner to discover
and to evaluate the moral principles which lie embodied in it.

=Testing the results of instruction=

The problem of testing the effectiveness of one's teaching presents
few difficulties in classes which are small and in which individual
instruction is possible. Wherever teacher and student come in close
personal contact and opportunity is afforded for full and frequent
discussions as well as for written exercises, it is a comparatively
easy matter to judge the mental caliber of the members of the class
and to determine the extent of their progress. In the case of the
large classes, however, which crowd into the lecture halls of the
modern university, the task is not so simple. Here every effort should
be made to divide such concourses of students into numerous sections,
small enough to enable the instructor to become acquainted with those
under his charge and to watch their development. The professor who
gives the lectures should take one or more of these sections himself
in order that he may understand the minds to which he is addressing
himself, and govern himself accordingly. The tests should consist of
discussions, essays, and written and oral examinations; by means of
these it is not impossible to determine whether the aims of the
subject have been realized in the instruction or not. But the tasks
set should be of such a character as to test the student's power of
thought, his ability to understand what he has read and heard with all
its implications, his ability to assume a critical attitude toward
what he has assimilated, and his ability to try his intellectual wings
in independent flights. A person who devotes himself faithfully to his
work during the entire term, who puts his mind upon it, takes an
active part in the discussions, and is encouraged to express himself
frequently by means of the written word, will surely give some
indication of the progress he has made, even in a written
examination--it being a fair assumption that one who knows will
somehow succeed in revealing his knowledge. Care must be taken, of
course, that the test is not a mere appeal to the memory; it is only
when the examination makes demands upon the student's intelligence
that it can be considered a fair measure of the value of philosophical
instruction. It must not be forgotten, however, that the examination
may reveal not only the weakness of the learner but the weakness of
the teacher. It is possible for a student, even in philosophy, to make
a fine showing in a written examination by repeating the words of the
master which he does not understand, without having derived any real
benefit from the course. The teacher may set an examination which will
hide the deficiencies of the instruction, and the temptation to do
this in large classes which he knows have not been properly taught is
great.

                                                   FRANK THILLY
  _Cornell University_


BIBLIOGRAPHY

COXE, G. C. The Case Method in the Study and Teaching of Ethics.
_Journal of Philosophy, Psychology, and Scientific Methods_, Vol. X,
13, page 337.

DAVIES, A. E. Education and Philosophy, _Journal of Philosophy,
Psychology, and Scientific Methods_, Vol. VI, 14, page 365.

HINMAN, E. L. The Aims of an Introductory Course in Philosophy.
_Journal of Philosophy, Psychology, and Scientific Methods_, Vol. VII,
21, page 561.

HÖFLER, A. _Zur Propädeutik-Frage._

HÖFLER, A. Zur Reform der philosophischen Propädeutik. _Zeitschrift
für die Österreichischen Gymnasien_, Vol. L, 3, page 255.

HUDSON, J. W. Hegel's Conception of an Introduction to Philosophy.
_Journal of Philosophy, Psychology, and Scientific Methods_, Vol. VI,
13, page 337.

---- An Introduction to Philosophy through the Philosophy of History.
_Journal of Philosophy, Psychology, and Scientific Methods._ Vol. VII,
21, page 569.

---- The Aims and Methods of Introduction Courses: A Questionnaire.
_Journal of Philosophy, Psychology, and Scientific Methods_, Vol. IX,
2, page 29.

LEHMANN, R. _Der deutsche Unterricht_, pages 389-437.

LEUCHTENBERGER, G. _Die philosophische Propädeutik auf den höheren
Schulen._

OVERSTREET, H. A. Professor Coxe's "Case Method" in Ethics. _Journal
of Philosophy, Psychology, and Scientific Methods_, Vol. X, 17, page
464.

PAULSEN, F. _German Universities and University Studies._ English
translation by Frank Thilly and W. W. Elwang, Book III and Book IV.

---- _Ueber Vergangenheit und Zukunft der Philosophie im gelehrten
Unterricht, Central-Organ für die Interessen des Realschulwesens_,
Vol. XIV, 1, page 4.

---- _Geschichte des gelehrten Unterrichts_, Conclusion.

Report of the Committee on the Academic Status of Psychology,
published by the American Psychological Association, December, 1914.

TUFTS, J. H. Garman as a Teacher. _Journal of Philosophy, Psychology,
and Scientific Methods_, Vol. IV, 10, page 263.

WEISSENFELS, O. Die Philosophie auf dem Gymnasium. _Zeitschrift für
das Gymnasialwesen_, Vol. LIII, 1, page 1.

WENDT, G. _Didaktik und Methodik des deutschen Unterrichts, Handbuch
der Erziehungs- und Unterrichtslehre für höhere Schulen._


Footnotes:

[45] The sentences quoted are taken from the Report of this committee,
which was published in December, 1914.

[46] See the articles of J. W. Hudson and others in the Bibliography.

[47] See Bibliography.

[48] See Professor Overstreet's Discussion mentioned in the Bibliography.



XV

THE TEACHING OF ETHICS


=Interest in the study of ethics determined by the aim of instruction=

Nowhere does academic tediousness work a more dire mischief than in
the teaching of ethics. It is bad to have students forever shun the
best books because of poor instruction in literature; the damage is
worse when it is the subject of moral obligation which they associate
with only the duller hours of their college life. Not that the aim of
a course in ethics is to afford a number of entertaining periods. The
object rather is to help our students realize that here is a subject
which seeks to interpret for them the most important problems of their
own lives present and to come. Where this end is kept in view, the
question of interesting them is settled. A sincere interpretation of
life always takes the interest when once it is grasped that this is
what is really being interpreted.

=Viewpoint in the past=

The procedure in the past (and still quite common) was to introduce
the subject by way of its history. A book like Sidgwick's _History of
Ethics_ was studied, with supplements in the shape of the students'
own reading of the classics, or lectures, with quotations, by the
teacher. That this method was frequently of much service is
undeniable. Teachers there are with rare gifts of inspiration who can
put freshness into any course which ordinary teachers leave hopelessly
arid. But this should not blind us to the fact that certain modes of
procedure are in general more likely to be fruitful than others.

=The business of right living the aim of ethics teaching=

These methods depend upon the aim; and the aim, we venture to hold,
should be eminently practical. The content of ethics is not primarily
a matter of whether Kant's judgments are sounder than Mill's or
Spencer's. Its subject is human life and the business of right living:
how should people--real people, that is, not textbook illustrations--live
with one another? This is the essential concern of our subject matter,
and in it our student is intimately and practically involved. Charged
with the fact, he may deny the impeachment. He refuses to worry over
the merits of hedonism versus rigorism, the distinction between
hypothetical and categorical imperatives, or the claim of ethics to be
called a science. Ethics, that is, as an intellectual discipline
through the survey of historic disputations is indeed remote from the
concerns that touch his life. But all the time there is no subject of
greater interest when approached from the side of its bearing on
practical problems. Consider the earnestness with which the student
will discuss with his friends such questions as these: What sense is
there in a labor strike? Is a conscientious objector justified in
refusing military service? Why should any one oppose easy divorce
laws? May a lawyer defend a rogue whom he knows to be guilty? Can one
change the nature with which he was born? Is violence justified in the
name of social reform? If what is right in one age or place is wrong
in another, is it fair to object when moral laws are broken? If a
practice like prostitution is common, what makes it wrong?

These do not sound like the questions likely to receive a welcome
hearing in the classroom; but it is precisely upon the interest in
such topics as these that the course in ethics should build; for its
subject is right living, a matter in which the student may indeed be
assumed to feel a genuine concern. If the questions that he wants
answered are not all as broad in their significance as the foregoing,
there are others of a more immediate personal kind which arise in his
life as a student, as a friend, as a son and brother, problems in
which standards of fair play and "decency" are involved, and upon
which it may be taken for granted that he has done some thinking,
howsoever crude. These interests are invaluable. Out of them the finer
product is to be created in the shape of better standards, higher
ideals, and habits of moral thoughtfulness, leading in turn to still
better standards and still worthier conduct. The course in ethics
should be practical in the sense that both its starting point and its
final object are found in the student's management of his life.

=Illustrations of the problems of right living=

Consider, for example, how his interest in problems of friendship may
be used as the point of departure for an extremely important survey
over general questions of right relationship. Just because friendship
is so vital a concern of adolescent years, he can be led to read what
Aristotle, Kant, Emerson, have to say upon this subject and be
introduced as well to that larger life of ideal relationships from
which these writers regard the dealings of friends. The topic of right
attitudes toward a friend broadens out readily into such
considerations as treating persons aright for their own sake or
regarding them as ends _per se_, a dead abstraction when approached as
it is by Kant, but a living reality when the students get Aristotle's
point about magnanimous treatment of friends. They can then proceed by
way of contrast to note, for example, how this magnanimity was limited
to friends in the upper levels of Athenian society, and went hand in
hand with approval of slave labor and other exploitations which a
modern conscience forbids. To give sharper edge to the conception of
man as deserving right treatment for his own sake, the class might go
on to examine other notable violations of personality in past and
present; e.g., slavery (read for instance Sparr's _History of the
African Slave Trade_) or the more recent cruelties toward the natives
in the rubber regions of the Congo and the Amazon. Reference may also
be made (without undue emphasis) to the white-slave traffic of today
and the fact be noted that a right sense of chivalry will keep a man
from partnership in the degradation which creates both the demand for
white slavery and ultimately its supply. We mention this to show how a
common practical interest can be employed to introduce the students to
so fundamental an ethical conception as the idea of inviolable human
worth. It may, no doubt, be highly unconventional for them to begin
with a discussion of friendship and after a few periods find
themselves absorbed in these other questions; but if care is exercised
to sum up and to emphasize the big conceptions underlying the topic,
we may be sure that their grasp of the subject will be no less firm
than under the older method. Their acquaintance with a study requiring
hard, abstract thinking will surely not be hurt, to say the least, by
an introduction which is concrete and practical.

Or take another matter of real concern to the student at this period
of his life. He is certain to be giving some thought to the matter of
his future vocation; and here again is a topic which, properly
handled, broadens out into the most far-reaching inquiries. It is to
be regretted that as yet the vocational-guidance movement has been
occupied in the main with external features--comparing jobs, making
objective tests of efficiency, and so on. The central ethical
conceptions are usually slighted. That one's vocation is a prime
influence in the shaping of personality in oneself, in one's fellow
workers, in the public served (or disserved) by one's work, in the
world of nations in so far as war and peace are connected with
commerce and other interchange of vocational products--all this is
matter for the teacher who wishes the ethics course to work over into
better living.[49] Nor again, as will be noted later in the chapter,
need the claims of the subject as a scholarly discipline suffer from
such treatment. Questions of the nature of moral standards, of the
distinction between expedient and right, etc., can be taken up more
profitably when, instead of dealing with the academic questions
forming the stock in trade of most textbooks, the course examines a
few vocations, let us say, business, teaching, art, law, medicine,--in
the light of such standards as these: A history of the calling; e.g.,
what has it contributed to the elevation of mankind, to the
development of the arts and sciences, and to specific kinds of human
betterment? What is the best service it can accomplish today? What
traits does it require in those who pursue it? What traits is it
likely to encourage in them for better and for worse? Report on great
leaders in the calling, with special reference to what their work made
of them. What are the darker sides of the picture? What efforts are
being made today to raise the moral code in this vocation? Sum up the
ideal rewards.

We do not mean, of course, that the only problems are those which
center around the demands of today for a more just economic and social
order. On the contrary, we believe that the movement for social
justice is greatly in need of precisely that appreciation of the
claims of moral personality which it is the main business of ethical
study to promote. But we shall never get our students to profit from
their work in social ethics, or in ethical theory, or in any branch of
the subject whatever, unless we keep fresh and close the contact with
their own experiences and ambitions.

Indeed, we venture to assert that unless this connection is kept
unbroken, the subject is not ethics at all but an abstraction which
ought to take some other name. Ethics deals with human volitions; but
the latter term is meaningless to the student save as he interprets it
by his own experiences in the preference of better ways to lower. He
knows the difficulties that arise in his own group-associations,--his
home or his class or his club, for example,--the conflicts of
ambitions, the readiness to shirk one's share of common
responsibility, the discordant prides and appetites of one sort and
another which lead to overt injustices. All these should be used to
throw light upon the living moral problems of group-life in the
vocations, in the civic world, in the international order.

Temperamentally, to be sure, the teacher may be inclined to handle his
subject in what he prefers to regard as academic detachment. But where
the subject is ethics and not dead print, complete aloofness is out of
the question. There would be no textbooks in ethics if the men whose
convictions are there recorded had not grappled earnestly with
problems of vital moment to their day and generation. The crucial
questions raised by a changing Athenian democracy were no matters of
air-born speculation to Socrates and Plato and Aristotle. Nor is it an
accident that the philosopher who so sought to vindicate the worth of
man as an end _per se_ should have sent from his apparently isolated
study in Königsberg his glad acclaim of the French Revolution. The
abounding interest of the English Utilitarians in the economics, the
politics, the social reform, of the nineteenth century needs no
comment. There are texts for study today because the men who wrote
them were keenly concerned about a nobler mode of life for mankind. To
invite the student to share their reflections without expecting
worthier conduct is to ignore the essential purpose by which those
reflections were prompted.

=Governing aim in ethics teaching=

Hence our first recommendation--that the _content of the ethics
courses be determined by the principal aim of so interpreting the
experiences and interests of the student as to stimulate worthier
behavior through a better understanding of the general problem of
right human relationships_.

Our second recommendation as to aims is suggested by certain extremes
in the practice of today. Reference to problems of immediate concern
does not mean that ultimate considerations are to be shelved. Indeed,
it must rather be stressed that such discussions miss their best
object, _if they fail to lead to searching reflection upon ultimate
standards_. The temptation to forego such inquiry today is strong. In
their desire to be practical and up-to-date, many teachers are
altogether too ready to rest the case for moral obligation upon a kind
of easy-going hedonism, the fallacy of provisionalism, as Professor
Felix Adler calls it. Tangible "goods" like happiness or "social
values" are held up as standards, as if these values were ends in
themselves and the problem of an ultimate human worth were irrelevant.

It may very well be a modest attitude to say that we can no longer
busy ourselves with the nature of ultimate ends and that we can best
employ our energies in trying to define the various goods which
contribute now and here to human betterment. Let the effort be made,
by all means. But when the last of empirical goods have been examined
and appraised (assuming for the moment that we can indeed appraise
without possessing ultimate norms) the cardinal question still waits
for answer: To what are all these goods instrumental? What kind of
life is best? What is it that permits man, with all his faults, his
sordid appetites, his meannesses and gross dishonors, to hold his head
erect as one yet worthy of the tribute implied in the fact that we
have duties toward him?

An answer satisfying to all may never be reached; but to evade these
questions is to abdicate the teacher's function. Many young people are
led by the biologic teachings of the day to regard man as the utterly
helpless product of his environment. Or they are so impressed with the
obvious and immediate needs of whole masses for better food, better
homes, greater opportunities for culture, that they do not stop to ask
whether these goods are worth while in themselves, or if not, what is
the deeper purpose to which they should minister. A conception of
personality is needed, sufficiently exalted to permit the various
immediate utilities to find their due place as tributes to the ideal
excellence latent in man; and on the other hand there is need for a
view of the spiritual life free from the misuse to which that term is
put by the various cults evoked by reaction against modern mechanism.
Painstaking inquiry into the grounds upon which the assurance of human
dignity can justify itself, has never been more urgently required.[50]


=Ideals and tendencies in ethics teaching=

Let us beware of surrendering to the common but often pernicious
demand of our swift-moving America that in order to receive
consideration a new idea should prove itself capable of yielding
immediate dividends. There seems to be a certain hesitancy today among
some in our educated classes about speaking of "ideals." Ideals
connote a long look ahead. They imply a sense that there is something
perfect even though the steps toward embodying or approximating it
will be many and arduous, perhaps discouragingly hard. They betoken
the likelihood of appearing before men as the victims of ultimately
unworkable dreams. In refreshing contrast is the seeming
practicability of encouraging present tendencies. Your tendency is no
far-off projection of mere thought; it is something solid and "real,"
here and now, respected at the bank, in the newspaper office, and
other meeting places of those whose heads are hard. Tendencies turn
elections; ideals carry no such palpable witness of their power.
"Hence let us study tendencies."

This characterization is perhaps extreme, but the danger to which it
refers is all too frequent. A strike, for instance, sets most of us to
discussing ways by which this particular disturbance can be ended
quickly. It is only the few who are willing to hold in mind both terms
of the problem, namely the procedure for tomorrow morning and the
positive ideal toward which all our vocational life should set its
face even if the distant tomorrow is still so far ahead. So of our
conceptions of political life. A given election may indeed involve an
immediate moral issue; but even the issue of next month can be faced
properly only when it is related to an ideal of public life which may
have to wait long years for appreciation by the majority. Nothing is
more necessary in a democracy than a leadership trained in the long
forward look, trained in distinguishing morally right and morally
wrong from expedient, and best from merely better, trained in the
courage to champion a distant ideal in the face of clamor to accept
some inferior but belligerently present substitute.

In short, the student should be offered every encouragement to
thinking out the ultimate obligations of his own life and of his
various groups and to reaching the conviction that there is such a
reality as a permanent human worth, a fundamentally right way for men
and women to seek, a rightness whose authority is undiminished by the
blunders of the human mind in trying to define it. An ever more
earnest attempt to find that way, and to find it by practice illumined
by all the knowledge that can be brought to bear, should be the
leading object. Not a series of definitions and quotations, nor yet a
little information about the social movements of our time, but a truer
understanding of life as the result of interpreting it in terms of the
obligation to create right human adjustments--such an aim saves
college ethics alike from dryness and from superficial attempts to
sprinkle interest over a subject of inherent and intense practical
importance.

It is not essential that an introductory course in ethics should enter
into the philosophy of religion. This may be left to other agencies,
like the church, or to later courses, with every confidence that the
outcome will be sound if mind and soul and will (to use the old
formula) are first enlisted in behalf of noble conduct. Whatever
thinking the student may do along these lines will be the better if
its nurture is drawn first from moral thinking and moral practice.[51]

=Course in ethics prescribed, and early in college course=

From the foregoing it follows that the ethics course should be taken
by all the students. The earlier it can be given the better, inasmuch
as its demands upon their conduct apply to all the years of their
life, and because the whole career at college is more likely to
benefit from beginning early such reflections as this study
particularly invites.

=Sequence determined by development of the student=

The sequence of courses will perhaps be best determined by remembering
the need of following the natural growth of the student. Experiences
come first and then the interpretations. Hence the insistence upon the
practical content of the introductory courses. Theory and history
should follow, not precede. Nobody is interested in the history or the
theory of a thing unless he is interested in the thing itself.
Furthermore, we must bear in mind the needs of those students who are
not likely to care enough for the more theoretical aspects to continue
the subject. If the introductory course is to be all that they take,
obviously the more practical we can make it the better.

=In teaching ethics follow the maxim from the concrete to the abstract=

As to method, a variety of profitable ways abounds if only the contact
with life is kept close and the principles studied are tested by their
outcome in the life which the student knows best. In general, the best
procedure is to work back from concrete instances to the principles
underlying the problem, formulate the principles and test them in
other fields. Our illustrative strike, for instance, can be used to
throw light upon the actual and the ideal principles involved in human
relationship in some such manner as the following:

=Method of procedure illustrated=

What do the employers want? What do they mean by liberty? What were
the circumstances under which Mill formulated his principle of
"liberty within the limits of non-infringement?" What have been the
consequences in America of reliance upon this formula? Why does it
break down in practice? Compare it with the theory of the balance of
power in international relations. What is likely to be the effect of
the possession of power upon the possessor himself?

Restate the ideal of liberty in terms of duty, not of privilege. What
are the obstacles to the fulfillment of such an ideal in industry? In
homes? What are the personal obstacles to clear understanding of the
meaning of right?

What do the workers want? Examine each of their demands--shorter
hours, more pay, recognition of the union, etc. What should the
granting of these demands contribute to their lives? Give instances to
show whether "better off" means better persons or not.

Compare the working man's use of the word "liberty" with that of the
employer. Why do workers often become oppressors when they themselves
become employers? What is the difference between demanding a redress
of your grievance and making a moral demand? What makes the cry of
fraternity as uttered by the workers repugnant to those who otherwise
would accept fraternity as an ideal?

How would you formulate the ideal for the vocational life of the
factory worker? Apply it to other vocations--journalism, law,
teaching. Sum up the ideal rewards of work.

Make tentative definitions of liberty, rights, duty, justice.

       *       *       *       *       *

Each of the questions mentioned above--and many more will occur in the
course of the discussion--furnishes occasion for extended
considerations that call upon the student for scholarly gathering of
facts, for close thinking, and--not least--for reflection upon his own
experiences and volitions. Other problems will suggest themselves. It
is obvious how the interest of the student in prison reform, for
example, can be employed in like manner as a motive to searching
reflection upon questions of moral responsibility. The principle that
punishment should be a means of awaking in the offender the
consciousness of a self which can and should hold itself to account
despite the magnitude of its temptations is of special usefulness, in
the years when a broadening altruism (and we might add, a tendency to
self-pity) is likely to lead to loose notions of personal obligation.

=Place of the textbook in ethics teaching=

The use of a textbook is a minor matter. To prevent the courses from
running off into mere talk--and even ethics classes are not averse to
"spontaneous" recitation on their own part or to monologues by the
teacher--a textbook may be required, with, let us say, monthly reports
or examinations. So much depends, however, upon the enthusiasm of the
instructor that here particularly recommendations can be only of the
most general kind. Some of the most effective work in this subject is
being done by teachers who forget the textbook for weeks at a time in
order to push home a valuable inquiry suggested by an unforeseen
problem raised in the course of the discussion. Others use no
textbooks at all. Some outline the year's work in a series of cases or
problems with questions to be answered in writing after consulting
selected passages in the classics or in current literature or in
both.[52] This method has the advantage of laying out the whole year's
work beforehand and of guaranteeing that the student comes to the
classroom with something more than a facility in unpremeditated
utterance. It is generally found to be of greater interest because it
follows the lines of his own ordinary thinking--first the problem and
then the attempt to find the principles that will help to solve it.

=Moral concepts deepened by participation in social or philanthropic
endeavors=

More important than any of these details of technique is the need of
helping the student to clarify his thinking by engaging in some
practical moral endeavor. The broadening and deepening of the
altruistic interests is a familiar feature of adolescent life. The
instructor in ethics, in the very interest of his own subject, is the
one who should take the lead in encouraging these expressions, not
only because of the general obligation of the college to make the most
of aptitudes which, neglected in youth, may never again be so
vigorous, but also because of the truth in Aristotle's dictum that
insight is shaped by conduct. Hence the work in ethics should be
linked up wherever possible with student self-government and other
participation in the management of the college, and with
philanthropics like work in settlements or in social reform groups or
cosmopolitan societies. For the students of finer grain it is
eminently worth the trouble to form clubs to intensify the spirit of
the members by activities more pointedly directed to the refining of
human relationships. They might engage in activities in which the task
of elevating the personality is specially marked, that is, in problems
which have to do with mutual interpretation--e.g., black folk and
white, foreign and native stocks in America, delinquents and the
community, immigrant parents and unsympathetic children. They might
organize clubs for one or more of these purposes, for discussing
intimately the problems of personal life, for public meetings on the
ethics of the vocations and on the more distinctly ethical phases of
political and international progress. Such organizations can be made
to do vastly more good for their members then the average debating
society, with its usual premium on mere forensic skill, or the
fraternity, with its encouragement of snobbishness. The wholesome
thing about the spirit of fraternity should be set to work upon some
such creative activities as we have mentioned. Not only does the
comradeship strengthen faith in right doing, but these practical
endeavors offer a notable help to the deepening, extending, and
clarifying of that interest in moral progress without which there can
be none of the intelligent leadership for which our democracy looks to
its colleges.

=Peculiar difficulty of applying usual test to courses in ethics=

To test how far the subject has been of value to the student is
unusually difficult. His interest in the discussions is by no means an
unfailing index. There are those who may be both eager and skilled in
the intellectual combat incidental to the course but whose lives
remain untouched for the better. The worthier outcome is hard to
trace. It is quite possible for the teacher to take credit for the
instilling of an ideal whose generation was due to some agency wholly
unknown, perhaps even to the student himself. On the other hand, the
best results may take years for overt appearance. In the nature of the
case, their more intimate expressions can never be recorded.

Moreover, students vary in the force of character which they bring
with them to the study. A lad whose home training has been deficient
may take more time than the best teacher can give in order to reach
the degree of excellence to which others among his classmates ascend
more quickly. Or a lad whom the course has moved with a desire to take
up some philanthropic endeavor may hesitate to pursue it through lack
of the necessary gift or failure in self-confidence. The forces which
enter into the making of character are so complex, including as they
do not only acquisitions of new moral standards, but temperamental
qualities, early training, potent example, physical stamina, dozens of
accidental circumstances, that it is unfair to use the tests
applicable, let us say, to a course in engineering.

Hence we must be beware of testing the value of the work by immediate
results. Something may be gathered by having the students write
confidentially what they think the course has done for them and where
it could be improved. This they can do both at the end of the course
and years later when time has brought perspective. But tests are of
minor importance. The ethical shortcomings of our time, the constant
need of our students for ever finer standards, convey challenge
enough. Even though the obvious results fall short of our hopes, we
can make the most of our resources with every assurance that they are
amply needed. Are young men more likely to be the better for setting
time aside to obtain with the help of an earnest student of life a
clearer insight into the principles of the best living? If they are
the courses are justified, even though some who take them can show
little immediate profit.

                                           HENRY NEUMANN, Ph.D.
  _Ethical Culture School, New York_


Footnotes:

[49] See Adler: _The Present World-Crisis and Its Meaning_, chapter on
"An Ethical Program of Social Reform": also _An Ethical Philosophy of
Life_, Chapters 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.

[50] From this point of view the ethical justification for the war on
the slum becomes: (_a_) to make possible for the slum-dweller the
better performance of his various duties as parent, worker, citizen;
(_b_) to drive home to all concerned the meaning of interdependence;
(_c_) to clarify for all of us the ideals to which better living
conditions should minister. There is every need today to further the
conviction that the highest service we can perform for another is not
to make him happier, but to help him make himself a better person
through the better performance of his duties.

[51] Note the emphasis placed by modern philosophy upon ethical value
as the point of approach to the problem of Godhead.

[52] Professor Sharp of Wisconsin has found this method so serviceable
that he has interested many teachers in his state and elsewhere in
using it with high school students for purposes of moral instruction.
See "A Course in Moral Instruction for High Schools," by F. C. Sharp;
_Bulletin, University of Wisconsin_.



XVI

THE TEACHING OF PSYCHOLOGY


=Place of psychology in the curriculum=

Historically, as an offshoot, and rather a recent offshoot, from
philosophy, psychology has been under the care of the department of
philosophy in colleges and universities, foreign as well as American,
and has been taught by professors concerned in part with the courses
in philosophy. Though this state of affairs still obtains to a
considerable extent, the tendency is undoubtedly towards allowing
psychology an independent position in the organization and curriculum
of the college. In recent appointments, indeed, the affiliation of
psychology with education has frequently been emphasized instead of
its affiliation with philosophy, for the professional applications of
psychology lie more in the field of education than elsewhere. As a
required study, our science is more likely to find a place in the
college for teachers than in the college of arts. But, on the other
hand, the applications to medicine, business, and industry are
increasing so rapidly in importance as to make it logical to maintain
an independent position for the science. Only in an independent
position can the psychologist be free to cultivate the central body of
his subject, the "pure" as distinguished from the applied science;
and, with the multiplication of practical applications, it is more
than ever important to center psychological teaching in the person of
some one who is simply and distinctively a psychologist.

=The introductory course to be general, not vocationally applied
psychology=

For a similar reason, psychologists are wont to insist that the
introductory course in their subject, no matter for what class of
students, with general or with professional aims, should be definitely
a course in _psychology_ as distinguished from educational or medical
or business psychology. Illustrative material may very well be chosen
with an eye to the special interests of a class of students, but the
general principles should be the same for all classes, and should not
be too superficially treated in the rush for practical applications.
Some years ago, a Committee of the American Psychological Association
was appointed to make a survey of the teaching of psychology in
universities, colleges, and normal schools, and the Report of this
Committee (1), still the most important contribution to the pedagogy
of the subject, emphasizes the concurrent view of psychologists to the
effect just stated, that the study of psychology should begin with a
course in the central body of doctrine. The psychological point of
view must be acquired before intelligent application can be made,
whether to practical pursuits or to other branches of study such as
philosophy and the social sciences, to which psychology stands in the
relation of an ancillary science.

During the war, the applications of psychology in the testing and
selection of men and training them for specified military and naval
work, in rating officers, in morale and intelligence work, and in
several other lines, became so important that it was decided to give
psychology a place as an "allied subject" in the curriculum of the
Students' Army Training Corps; and the report of the committee of
psychologists that prepared the outline of a course for this purpose
deserves attention as a contribution to the pedagogy of the subject.
They proposed a course on "Human Action," to be free from questions of
a speculative or theoretical nature and concentrated on matters
relevant to military practice and the military uses of psychology. The
aim was to enlist the student's practical concern at the very outset,
and to give him the psychological point of view as applied to his
problems as a member of the Army and a prospective officer. In method,
the course was to depend little on lectures, or even on extensive
readings, and much on the student's own solution of practical
psychological problems. Evidently the psychologists who prepared this
plan were driven by the emergency to abandon "academic" prepossessions
in favor of a course in pure psychology as the necessary prerequisite
to any study of applications; and it is quite possible that courses
in psychology for different groups of students could be prepared that
should follow this general plan and be intensely practical from the
start. It would still remain true that the thorough psychologist
should be the one to plan and conduct such courses.

=The psychological point of view must be emphasized in the introductory
course=

The psychological point of view means attentiveness to certain matters
that are neglected in the usual objective attitude toward things. It
is identified by many with introspection, but there is at present
considerable dissent from this doctrine, the dissenters holding that
an objective type of observation of human behavior is distinctively
psychological and probably more significant and fruitful than the
introspective attitude. However this may be, both introspection and
behavior study require attention to matters that are commonly
disregarded. Every one is of course interested in what people do, or
at least in the outcome of their activities; but psychology is
interested in the activities themselves, in how the outcome is reached
rather than in the outcome itself. Ordinarily, we are interested in
the fact that an inventor has solved a problem, but regard it as
rather irrelevant if he proceeds to tell us the mental process by
which he reached the solution. We are interested in the fact that a
child has learned to speak, but devote little thought to the question
as to how he has learned. It is to bring such psychological questions
to light and arouse intelligent interest in them, with some knowledge
of the answers that have been found, that the psychologist is chiefly
concerned when initiating beginners into his science. This primary aim
is accomplished in the case of those students who testify, as some do,
that the course in psychology has "opened their eyes" and made them
see life in a different light than hitherto.

=Values of the study of psychology--cultural rather than disciplinary=

Whether this primary value of psychology is to be counted among the
disciplinary or among the cultural values may be a matter of doubt.
Psychologists themselves have seldom made special claims in behalf of
their science as a means of formal discipline, many of them, in fact,
taking a very negative position with regard to the whole conception of
such discipline. What psychology can give of general value is a point
of view, and a habit of attentiveness to the mental factor. The need
of some systematic attention to these matters often comes to light in
the queer efforts at a psychology made by intelligent but uninstructed
persons in the presence of practical problems involving the mental
factor.

=The practical value=

Besides this "cultural" value, and besides the special uses of
psychology as a preparation for teaching and certain other
professions, there is a very real and practical value to be expected
from an understanding of the mental mechanism. Since every one works
with this mechanism, every one can make practical use of the science
of it. Most persons get on passably well, perhaps, without any expert
knowledge of the machinery which they are running; yet the machine is
not entirely "fool proof," by any means, but sometimes comes to grief
from what is in essence a lack of psychological wisdom either in the
person himself or in his close companions. Mental hygiene, in short,
depends on psychology. The college student, looking forward to a life
of mental activity, is specially in a position to utilize information
regarding the most economical working of the mental machine; and, as a
matter of experience, some students are considerably helped in their
methods of mental work by what they learn in the psychology class.
Among the results of recent investigation are many bearing on economy
and efficiency of mental work. This value of psychology, it will be
seen, is practical without being professional--except in so far as all
educated men can be said to adopt the profession of mental engineer.
Much more emphasis than has been customary might well be laid on this
side of the subject in elementary courses.

=Content of the introductory course in psychology=

The content of the first course in psychology is just now undergoing a
certain amount of revision. Traditionally the aim has been, not so
much, as in most other subjects, to initiate the student into a range
of facts lying outside his previous experience, as to bring definitely
to his attention facts lying within the experience of all, and to
cause him to classify these so as to refer any given mental process to
the class or classes where it belongs. This calls for definition, the
making of distinctions, the analysis of complex facts, the use of a
technical vocabulary, and in general for much more precision of
statement than the student has been used to employ in speaking of such
matters. Some laws of mental action, verifiable within ordinary
experience, are also brought to light in such a course, and some
account of the neural mechanisms of mental life is usually included;
but its chief accomplishment is in leading the student to attend to
mental processes and gain a point of view that may remain his future
possession.

With the great expansion of psychological knowledge in recent decades,
due to research by experimental and other empirical methods, it has
become possible to give a course more informational in character and
going quite beyond the range of the student's previous experience; and
this new material is finding its way into elementary texts and
courses. Many of the results of research are not at all beyond the
comprehension of the beginner; indeed, they are often more tangible
than the distinctions and analyses that give the stamp to the
traditional course. These empirical results also have the advantage,
in many cases, of throwing light on the practical problems of mental
health and efficiency; and some inclusion of such material is
desirable if only to fit the needs of the considerable number of
students who cannot become interested in a course of the traditional
sort. Practice in this matter is at present quite variable, some
teachers basing the introductory course as far as possible on the
results of experiment, and others adhering closely to the older plan.

=Methods of teaching psychology--Practical exercises=

There is certainly some advantage in keeping the first course
untechnical. The student can then be set to observing for himself,
instead of depending on books. Many of the facts of psychology are so
accessible, at least in a rough form, as to make the subject a good
one for appealing to the spirit of independence in the student. Some
teachers are, in fact, accustomed to introduce each part of the
subject by exercises, introspective or other, designed to bring the
salient facts home to the student in a direct way, before he has
become inoculated with the doctrine of the authorities. "The essential
point is that the student be led to observe his own experience, to
record his observation accurately--in a word, to psychologize; and to
make the observation before, not after, discovering from book or from
lecture what answers are expected to these questions. Individual
experiments should so far as possible be performed in like manner
before the class discussion of typical results. In all cases the
results of these introspections should be recorded in writing;
representative records should be read and commented on in class; and
the discussion based on them should form the starting point for
textbook study and for lecture." The plan thus highly recommended by
Professor Calkins[53] she found not to be widely used at the time of
her inquiry; a commoner practice was the assignment of reading for the
student's first introduction to a given topic. This alternative plan
is a line of less resistance; and it is also true that exercises in
original observation by beginners in psychology are likely to be
instructive mostly as evidence of the ineptness of the beginner in
psychological observation. Moreover, when the content of the course is
informational and based on the results of research, preliminary
exercises by the student are of rather limited value, though they
still could serve a useful purpose in bringing forcibly to his
attention the problems to be studied.

The use of "exercises," somewhat analogous to the examples of algebra
or the "originals" of geometry, is quite widespread in introductory
courses in psychology, and several much-used textbooks offer sets of
exercises with each chapter. Several types are in vogue: (1) some call
for introspections, as, for example, "Think of your breakfast table as
you sat down to it this morning--do you see it clearly as a scene
before your mind's eye?" (2) some call for a review and generalization
of facts presumably already known, as "Find instances of the
dependence of character upon habit;" (3) many consist of simple
experiments demanding no special apparatus and serving to give a
direct acquaintance with matters treated in the text, such as
after-images or fluctuations of attention; and (4) many call for the
application of the principles announced in the text to special cases,
the object being to "give the student some very definite thing to do"
(Thorndike), in doing which he will secure a firm hold of the
principles involved. In general, teachers of psychology aim to "keep
the student doing things, instead of merely listening, reading, or
seeing them done" (Seashore, 1, page 83). In a few colleges,
laboratory work of a simple character forms part of the introductory
course, and in one or two the laboratory part is developed to a degree
comparable with what is common in chemistry or biology. As a rule,
however, considerations of time and equipment have prevented the
introduction of real laboratory work into the first course in
psychology.

=Classroom methods--The lecture=

Of classroom methods, perhaps all that are employed in other subjects
find application also in psychology, some teachers preferring one and
some another. The lecture method is employed with great success by
some of the leaders, who devote much attention to the preparation of
discourse and demonstrations. One professor (anonymous) is quoted[54]
as follows:

"I must here interject my ideas on the lecture system. The lecture has
a twofold advantage over the recitation. (1) It is economical, since
one man handles a large number of students; the method of recitation
is extravagant. This fact alone will mean the retention of the lecture
system, wherever it can possibly be employed with success. (2) It is
educationally the better method, for the average student and the
average teacher. For the reconstruction of a lecture from notes means
an essay in original work, in original thinking; while the recitation
lapses all too readily into textbook rote and verbal repetition.

"It is, nevertheless, true that sophomore students are on the whole
inadequate to a lecture course. They cannot take notes; they cannot
tear the heart out of a lecture. (They are also, I may add, inadequate
to the reading of textbooks or general literature, in much the same
way.) Hence one has to supplement the lecture by syllabi, by lists of
questions (indexes, so to speak, to the lectures), and by personal
interviews....

"The sum and substance of my recommendations is that you provide a
competently trained instructor, and let him teach psychology as he
best can. What the student needs is the effect of an individuality, a
personality; and the lecture system provides admirably for such
effect."

=The recitation=

Though the lecture system is used with great success by a number of
professors, the general practice inclines more to the plan of oral
recitations on assigned readings in one or more texts, and large
classes are often handled in several divisions in order to make the
recitation method successful. Not infrequently a combination of
lectures by the professor and recitations conducted by his assistants
is the plan adopted, the lecturer to add impressiveness to the course,
and the recitations to hold the student up to his work. Written
exercises, such as those already mentioned, are often combined with
the oral recitation; and in some cases themes are to be written by the
students. Probably the seminar method, in which the subject is chiefly
presented in themes prepared by the students, is never attempted in
the introductory course.

=Class discussion=

On the other hand, a number of successful teachers reject both the
lecture and the recitation methods, and rely for the most part upon
class discussions, with outside readings in the textbooks, and
frequent written recitations as a check on the student's work. A
champion of the discussion method writes as follows:[55]

"A teacher has not the right to spend any considerable part of the
time of a class in finding out by oral questions ... whether or not
the student has done the work assigned to him. The good student does
not need the questions and is bored by the stumbling replies which he
hears; and even the poor student does not get what he needs, which is
either instruction _a deux_, or else a corrected written
recitation.... Not in this futile way should the instructor squander
the short hours spent with his students. The purpose of these hours is
twofold: first, to give to the students such necessary information as
they cannot gain, or cannot so expediently gain, in some other way;
second, and most important, to incite them to 'psychologize' for
themselves. The first of these purposes is best gained by the lecture,
the second by guided discussion. 'Guided discussion' does not mean a
reversal of the recitation process--an hour in which students ask
questions in any order, and of any degree of relevancy and
seriousness, which the instructor answers. On the contrary, the
instructor initiates and leads the discussion; he chooses its subject,
maps out its field, pulls it back when it threatens to transgress its
bonds, and, from time to time, summarizes its results. This he does,
however, with the least possible show of his hand. He puts his
question and leaves it to the student interested to answer him; he
restates the bungling answer and the confused question; he leaves one
student to answer the difficulties of another.... The advantage of the
discussion over the lecture is, thus, that it fosters in the student
the active attitude of the thinker in place of the passive attitude of
the listener.... Obviously it is simplest to teach large classes by
lecturing to them. Yet a spirited and relevant discussion may be
conducted in a class of a hundred or so. Of course no more than eight
or twelve, or, at most, twenty of these will take even a small part on
a given day; perhaps a half or two thirds will never take part; and
some will remain uninterested. But there will be many intelligent
listeners as well as active participants; and these gain more, I
believe, by the give and take of a good discussion than by constant
lectures however effective."

=Class experiments=

Brief mention should be made of a form of class exercise peculiar to
psychology, the "class experiment." This is in some respects like a
demonstration, but differs from that in calling for a more active
participation on the part of the student. Any psychological experiment
is performed _on_ a human (or animal) subject, and many experiments
can be performed on a group of subjects together, each of them being
called on to perform a certain task or to make a certain observation.
Each of the class having made his individual record, the instructor
may gather them together into an average or summary statement, and the
individual variations as well as the general tendency may thus be
brought to light. Very satisfactory and even scientific experiments
can thus be performed, with genuine results instructive to the class.

=Checking the work of the students=

Of methods of holding the student to his work, mention has already
been made of the much-used written recitation. The usual plan is to
have frequent, very brief written examinations. Sometimes the practice
is to correct and return all the papers; sometimes to place them all
on file and correct samples chosen at random for determining the
student's "term mark." A plan that has some psychological merit is to
follow the examination immediately by a statement of the correct
answers, with brief discussion of difficulties that may arise, and to
ask each student to estimate the value of his own paper in the
standard marking system. The papers are then collected and examined,
and returned with the instructor's estimate.

Since an examination is, in effect, a form of psychological test, it
is natural that psychologists should have attempted to introduce some
of the technique of psychological testing into the work of examining
students, in the interest of economy of the student's time as well as
that of the examiner. The teacher prepares blanks which the student
can quickly fill out if he knows the subject, not otherwise. To
discover how far the student has attained a psychological point of
view, written work or examination questions often demand some
independence in the application to new cases of what has been learned.
Far-reaching tests of the later value to the student of a course in
psychology have not as yet been attempted.

=Place of psychology in the college course=

No attempt has yet been made to obtain the consensus of opinion among
psychologists as to whether the introductory course should be required
of all arts students, and probably opinions would differ, without
anything definitive to be said on either side. In quite a number of
colleges psychology forms part of a required general course in
philosophy. Where a separation has occurred between philosophy and
psychology, the latter is seldom absolutely required. As a general
rule, however, the introductory course, even if not required, is taken
by a large share of the arts students. The traditional position for
the course in psychology is late in the college curriculum, originally
in the senior but more recently in the junior year. In many of the
larger colleges it is now open to sophomores or even to freshmen. One
motive for pushing the introductory course back into the earlier years
is naturally to provide for more advanced courses in the subject; and
another is the desire to make psychology prerequisite for courses in
philosophy, education, or sociology. Still another motive tending in
the same direction is the desire to make the practical benefits of
psychological study available for the student in the further conduct
of his work as a student in whatever field. If considerable attention
is devoted in the introductory course to questions of mental hygiene
and efficiency, the advantage of bringing these matters early to the
attention of the student outweighs the objection which is often raised
by teachers of psychology, as of other subjects, to admitting the
younger students, on the ground of immaturity. The teachers who get
the younger students may have to put up with immaturity in order that
the benefit of their teaching may be carried over by the students into
later parts of the curriculum.

=Length of the introductory course=

When the introductory course in psychology forms part of a course in
philosophy, it is usually restricted to one semester, with three hours
of class work per week. When psychology is an independent subject in
the curriculum, a two-semester course is usually provided, since it is
the feeling of psychologists that this amount of time is needed in
order to make the student really at home in the subject, and to
realize for him the values that are looked for from psychology. Often
there is a break between the two semesters of such a course, the
second being devoted to advanced or social or applied psychology.
Sometimes, on the other hand, the two-semester course is treated as a
unit, the various topics being distributed over the year; this latter
procedure is probably the one that finds most favor with
psychologists. Still, good results can be obtained with the semester
course supplemented by other courses.

=Content of advanced courses in psychology=

The most frequent advanced course is one in experimental psychology.
This is taken by only a small fraction of those who have taken the
introductory course, partly because the laboratory work attached to
the experimental course demands considerable time from the student,
partly because students are not encouraged to go into the laboratory
unless they have a pretty serious interest in the subject. For a
student who has it in him to become somewhat of an "insider" in
psychology, no course is the equal of the laboratory course,
supplemented by judicious readings in the original sources or in
advanced treatises. Next in frequency to the experimental course
stands that in applied psychology, since the recent applications of
psychology to business, industry, vocational guidance, law, and
medicine appeal to a considerable number of college students. Other
courses which appear not infrequently in college curricula are those
in social, abnormal, and animal psychology. No precise order is
necessary in the taking of these courses, and it is not customary to
make any beyond the introductory course prerequisite for the others.

                                            ROBERT S. WOODWORTH
  _Columbia University_


BIBLIOGRAPHY

Many of the textbooks contain, in their prefaces, important
suggestions toward the teaching of the subject. There are also
frequent articles in the psychological journals on apparatus for
demonstrations and class or laboratory experiments.

1. Report of the Committee of the American Psychological Association
on the Teaching of Psychology. _Psychological Monographs_, No. 51,
1910.

2. American Psychological Association, Report of the Committee on the
Academic Status of Psychology, 1915: "The Academic Status of
Psychology in the Normal Schools."

3. Same Committee, 1916: "A Survey of Psychological Investigations
with Reference to Differentiations between Psychological Experiments
and Mental Tests." Concerned with the availability of mental tests as
material for the experimental course.

4. Courses in Psychology for the Students' Army Training Corps.
_Psychological Bulletin_, 1918, 15, 129-136. See also the Outlines of
parts of the course in the same journal, pages 137-167, 177-206; and a
note on the success of the courses by Edgar S. Brightman, in the
_Bulletin_ for 1919, pages 24-26.


Footnotes:

[53] In Report, pages 50-51.

[54] By Sanford, 1, page 66.

[55] Calkins, 1, pages 47-48.



XVII

THE TEACHING OF EDUCATION


A. TEACHING THE HISTORY OF EDUCATION IN COLLEGE

=Kinds of educational values=

There are three main kinds of educational value; viz., practical,
cultural, and disciplinary. These three types of educational value
probably originated in the order in which they are here mentioned. In
early educational periods, all values are practical, or utilitarian.
With the growth of social classes, some values become cultural; viz.,
those pursued by the upper classes. The disciplinary values are
recognized when studies cease to have the practical and cultural
values.

=Meaning of educational values=

By the "educational value" of a subject we mean, of course, the
service which the pursuit of that subject renders. Any one subject
will naturally have all three values, but no two subjects will have
the same values mixed in the same proportion. The practical value of a
subject depends on the use in life to which it can be put, especially
its use in making a living. The cultural value of a subject depends
largely on the enjoyment it contributes to life. While culture does
not make a living, it makes it worth while that a living should be
made. The disciplinary value of a subject depends on the amount of
mental training that subject affords. Such mental training is
available in further pursuit of the same, or a similar, subject. It is
the fashion of educational thinking in our day to put greatest stress
on the practical values, less on the cultural, and least on the
disciplinary. There is no denying the reality of each type of value.

=Value of the history of education=

Now, what is the value of the history of education? There are no
experimental studies as yet, nor scientific measurements, upon which
to base an answer. The poor best we can do is to express an opinion.
This opinion is based on the views of others and on the writer's
experience in teaching the history of education ten years in a liberal
college (Dartmouth) and ten years in a professional graduate school
(New York University). On this basis I should say that the aim of the
history of education, at least as recorded in existing texts, is first
cultural, then practical, and last disciplinary. Texts yet to be
written for the use of teachers in training may shift the places of
the cultural and the practical. This new type of text will give the
history, not of educational epochs in chronological succession, but of
modern educational problems in their origin and development.[56]

=Its cultural value=

As cultural, the history of education is the record of the efforts of
society to project its own ideals into the future through shaping the
young and plastic generation. There comes into this purview the
successive social organizations, their ideals, and the methods
utilized in embodying these ideals in young lives. Interpretations of
the nature of social progress, the contribution of education to such
progress, and the goal of human progress, naturally arise for
discussion, and the history of education well taught as the effort of
man to improve himself is both informing and inspiring. This is the
cultural value of the history of education. The sense of the meaning
and value of human life is enhanced. As President Faunce says,[57] "A
college of arts and sciences which has no place for the study of
student life past and present, no serious consideration of the great
schools which have largely created civilization, is a curiously
one-sided and illiberal institution."

=Its practical value=

As practical, the history of education, even when taught from the
customary general texts, throws some light on such everyday school
matters as educational organization, the best methods of teaching, the
right principles of education for women, how to manage classes, and
the art of administering education. History cannot give the final
answer to such questions, but it makes a contribution to the final
answer in reporting the results of racial experience and in assisting
students to understand present problems in the light of their past.
The history of education has a practical value, but it is not alone
the source of guidance.

=Its disciplinary value=

As disciplinary, the history of education shows the value of all
historical study. The appeal is mainly to the memory and the judgment.
The teaching is inadequate, if the appeal is only to the memory. The
judgment must also be requisitioned in comparing, estimating,
generalizing, and applying. Memory is indispensable in retaining the
knowledge of the historical facts, and judgment is utilized in seeing
the meaning of these facts. With all studies in general, history
shares in training perceptive, associative, and effortful activities.
Training in history is commonly supposed also to make one
conservative, in contrast with training in science, which is supposed
to make one progressive. But this result is not necessary, being
dependent upon one's attitude toward the past. If past events are
viewed as a lapse from an ideal, the study of history makes one
conservative and skeptical about progress. If, on the other hand, the
past is viewed as progress toward an ideal, the study of history makes
one progressive, and expectant of the best that is yet to be. But,
even so, familiarity with the past breeds criticism of quick
expedients whereby humanity is at last to arrive. On the whole, the
disciplinary value of the history of education is attained as an
incident of its cultural and practical values. We are no longer trying
to discipline the mind by memorizing lists of names and dates, though
they be such euphonious names as those of the native American Indian
tribes, but we are striving to understand man's past and present
efforts at conscious self-improvement.

=The various aims of students=

College students will elect a course in the history of education with
many different motives. They may like the teacher, they may like
history in any form, they may like the hours at which the class is
scheduled, some person who had the course recommended it, or they have
an idea they may teach for a while after graduating. A few know they
are going into teaching as a vocation in life, and appreciate in a
measure the increasing exactitudes of professional training. Thus,
from the student standpoint, the aims are eclectic. The results with
them will be that as human beings they have a wider view of life; as
citizens, perhaps as members of school boards, they are more
intelligent in school matters; and as teachers they make a start in
their progressive equipment. The general course in the history of
education is pursued by a group of students with varying but
undifferentiated motives.

=A student's reaction=

Once I asked a group of college students to write a frank reaction on
a sixty-hour course they had just completed in the general history of
education. One wrote as follows: "The history of education makes me
feel that a number of what we call innovations today are a renaissance
of something as 'old as the hills.' We hear a lot about pupil
self-government, and we find it back in the seventeenth century. The
trade school also is not a modern tendency.

"I also feel that maybe we are not giving our boys and girls a liberal
education; maybe we are too utilitarian (I was very much inclined that
way myself before I took this course).

"That when we wish to try something new, let's go back and see if it
has not been tried before, study the circumstances, the mistakes made,
the results attained, and see whether we can't profit by the
experience given us by the past.

"I was also very much surprised to learn the close connection that
there is between civilization and education.

"I feel that we are laying too much stress on the thinking side of
training rather than on the volitional side: not doing in the sense
of utility alone, but as a means of expression."

It is easy to see the parts of the course that particularly gripped
him. Another wrote as follows:

=Another reaction=

"The history of education makes me feel as follows about teaching:

(1) It shows the knowledge of method to be obtained from the
experiences of others.

(2) It makes me feel the importance of the teacher.

(3) It shows a great field and encourages us to try to improve our own
methods.

(4) It shows us the great responsibility of the profession in
connection with the nation, for the school teacher to a marked degree
determines the destiny of a nation.

(5) It shows the importance of free-thinking. (Illustration omitted.)

(6) It shows us the great importance of individuality along the line
of teaching, for, as soon as we begin to adopt the methods of others
exactly without examining them carefully, progress stops, and we are
like the teachers of the Middle Ages.

(7) It shows that every teacher should have a heartfelt interest in
his pupil.

(8) It makes us feel that discipline is unnecessary, if we utilize the
right methods.

(9) It tells us and makes us feel above everything else that a good
education is worth as much as riches and that, since we are all
brothers, we ought to try to teach everybody."

An analysis of these two answers would show a combination of the
cultural and practical values and, by implication at least, since they
were able to say these things, a disciplinary value.

=History of education should be an elective course=

Should the history of education be a required or an elective course in
the college curriculum? In a school of education offering a bachelor's
degree, it might well be required, for both cultural and professional
reasons, but in the usual department of education in a college it
will be offered as an elective course. Its cultural and disciplinary
values are not such as to make its pursuit a requisite for a liberal
education, and its practical value for prospective teachers, as it has
been commonly taught, is not such as to warrant its prescription.
Besides, the prospective teacher is animated by the vocational motive
and will elect the history of education anyway, unless there are more
practical courses to be had. Students in all the college courses
should have the privilege of electing the history of education in view
of their future citizenship.

=A forty-five-hour course=

A three-hour-per-week elective course for a half year, about
forty-five classroom hours, will meet the needs of the average
undergraduate in this subject. This amount of time is adequate for a
bird's eye view of the general field, affording a unit of
accomplishment in itself preparing the way for more specialized study
later, though it is only about half the time requisite for presenting
the details of the subject.

=First term senior year=

In my judgment the study of the history of education would best fall
between principles and methods. The study of the principles of
education should come first, as it is closely related to preceding
work in the natural and mental sciences, especially biology,
physiology, sociology, and psychology; it also gives a point of view
from which to continue the study of education, some standard of
judgment. The study of educational methods, such as general method in
teaching, special method for different subjects, the technique of
instruction, class management, organization and administration of
schools, should come last in the course, because it will be soonest
used. These practical matters should be fresh in the mind of any young
college graduate beginning to teach. The history of education is a
good transition in study from the theory of the first principles to
the practice of school matters, affording a panorama of facts to be
judged by principles and racial experiments in educational practice.
This means that the choice time for the course in the history of
education is the first semester of the senior year in college. There
is something to be said for making this course the introductory one
in the study of education, connecting with preceding courses in
history and being objective in character. There is also something to
be said for giving only a practical course dealing with the history of
educational problems to college undergraduates and reserving the
general history of education as a complex social study for the
graduate school. There is no unanimity of opinion or practice
concerning the history of education.[58]

=Texts and contents=

What should be the content of the one-semester general course? Three
modern available texts are Monroe, _A Brief Course in the History of
Education_ (The Macmillan Company); Graves, _A Student's History of
Education_ (The Macmillan Company); and Duggan, _A Student's Textbook
in the History of Education_ (D. Appleton & Co.). Of these Monroe's
book is the first (1907), and it has greatly influenced every later
text in the field. There is a general agreement in these three texts
as to the content of such a course; viz., a general survey of
education in the successive periods of history, including primitive,
oriental, Greek, Roman, Early Christian and medieval, renaissance,
reformation, realism, Locke and the disciplinary tendency, Rousseau,
the psychologists, and the scientific, sociological, and eclectic
tendencies. All are written from the standpoint of the conflict
between the interests of society and the individual. The pages of the
three books number respectively 409, 453, and 397. Graves pays most
attention to the development of American education. Duggan omits the
treatment of primitive and oriental education (except Jewish), "which
did not contribute _directly_ to Western culture and education." All
are illustrated. All have good summaries, which Graves and Duggan,
following S. C. Parker, who derived the suggestion from Herbart, place
at the beginning of the chapter. All have bibliographical references,
and Duggan adds lists of questions also. Perhaps in order of ease for
students the books would be Duggan, Graves, and Monroe, though
teachers would not all agree in this. Users of Monroe have a valuable
aid in his epoch-making _Textbook in the History of Education_ (The
Macmillan Company), 772 pages, 1905, and users of Graves likewise have
his three volumes as supplementary material (The Macmillan Company).

The same general ground is covered by P. J. McCormick, _History of
Education_ (The Catholic Educational Press), 1915, 401 pages, with
especial attention given to the Middle Ages and the religious
organizations of the seventeenth century. This work contains
references and summaries also.

Duggan is right in omitting the treatment of primitive and oriental
education on the principle of strict historical continuity, but for
purposes of comparison the chapters on primitive and oriental
education in the other texts serve a useful purpose.

=Educational classics=

A more intensive elective course in the history of education intended
especially for those expecting to teach might well be offered in a
college with sufficient instructors. These courses might be in
educational classics, the history of modern elementary education, or
the history of the high school. Texts are now available in these
fields. Monroe's _Source Book for the History of Education_ (The
Macmillan Company), 1901, is a most useful book in studying the
ancient educational classics, in which, however, the Anacharsis of
Lucian does not appear, though it can be found in the Report of the
United States Commissioner of Education, 1897-1898, Vol. I, pages
571-589. The renaissance classics may be studied in the works of
Woodward and Laurie. The realists may be studied in the various
editions of Comenius, Locke, Spencer, and Huxley. Likewise the modern
naturalistic movement may be followed in the writings of Rousseau,
Pestalozzi, Herbart, and Froebel. These four courses are available in
educational classics: the ancient, the renaissance or humanistic, the
realistic and the naturalistic.

=History of elementary and high schools=

_The History of Modern Elementary Education_ (Ginn and Co.) by S. C.
Parker and _The High School_ (The Macmillan Company) by F. W. Smith
may be profitably used as texts in the courses on these topics.
Parker's has but little on the organization of the elementary school,
is weak on the philosophical side of the theorists treated, has
nothing on Montessori, draws no lessons from history, is very brief on
the present tendencies, and is somewhat heavy, prosaic, and
unimaginative in style; but it is painstaking, covers all the main
points well and has uncovered some valuable new material, and on the
whole is the best history in English on its problem. Dr. Smith's book
is really a history of education written around the origin and
tendencies of the high school as central. It is a scholarly work,
based on access to original Latin and other sources, though diffuse.

=American education=

An elective course in the history of American education is highly
desirable. Chancellor E. E. Brown's scholarly book on _The Making of
Our Middle Schools_, or E. G. Dexter's encyclopedic book on _History
of Education in the United States_, may profitably serve as texts.
This course should show the European influences on American schools,
the development of the American system, and the rôle of education in a
democratic society. There is great opportunity for research in this
field.

=History of educational problems=

There is room for yet another course for college undergraduates
expecting to teach,--a history of educational problems. The idea is to
trace the intimate history of a dozen or more of the present most
urgent educational questions, with a view to understanding them better
and solving them more wisely, thus enabling the study of the history
of education to function more in the practice of teachers. Such a text
has not yet been written. The point of view is expressed by Professor
Joseph K. Hart as follows: "The large problem of education is the
making of new educational history. The real reason for studying the
history of education is that one may learn how to become a maker of
history. For this purpose, history must awaken the mind of the student
to the problems, forces, and conditions of the present; and its
outlook must be toward the future."[59]

=Methods Of teaching=

What should be the method of teaching the history of education in
college? One of the texts will be used as a basis for assignments and
study. Not less than two hours of preparation on each assignment will
be expected. The general account in the text will be supplemented by
the reading of source and parallel material, concerning which very
definite directions will have to be given by the teacher. Each student
will keep a notebook as one of the requirements of the course, which
is examined by the instructor at the end. A profitable way to make a
notebook is for each student to select a different modern problem and
trace its origin and growth as he goes through the general history of
education and its source material. In this way each student becomes a
crude historian of a problem. The examination will test judgment and
reason as well as memory. In the classroom the instructor will at
times question the class, will at times be questioned by the class,
will lecture on supplementary material, will use some half-dozen
stereopticon lectures in close conjunction with the text, will have
debates between chosen students, seeking variety in method without
loss of unity in result. Some questions for debate might be, the
superiority of the Athenian to the modern school product, the
necessity of Latin and Greek for a liberal education, religious
instruction in the public schools, formal discipline, whether the aim
of education is cultural or vocational, whether private philanthropy
is a benefit to public education, etc. It is very important in
teaching so remote a subject as the history of education that the
teacher have imagination, be constantly pointing modern parallels,
communicate the sense that the past has made a difference in the
present, and be himself kindled and quickened by man's aspirations for
self-improvement. Unless our subject first inspires us, it cannot
inspire our pupils. Whoever teaches the history of education because
he has to instead of because he wants to must expect thin results.

=Testing results=

In addition to the formal indication of the results of the course in
the examination paper, teachers can test their results by asking for
frank unsigned statements as to what the course has meant to each
student, by securing suggestions from the class for the future conduct
of the course, by noting whether education as a means of social
evolution has been appreciated, by observing whether the attitude of
individual students toward education as a life-work or as a human
enterprise deserving adequate support from all intelligent citizens
has developed. As future citizens, has the motive to improve schools
been awakened? Particularly do more men want to teach, despite small
pay and slight male companionship? The history of education does not
really grip the class until its members want to rise up and do
something by educational means to help set the world right.

The limits of this paper exclude the treatment of the subject in the
professional training of teachers in normal schools, high schools, and
graduate schools, as well as in extension courses for teachers or in
their private reading.

                                                HERMAN H. HORNE
  _New York University_


BIBLIOGRAPHY

BUISSON, F. _Dictionnaire de la Pédagogie_, Histoire de l'Education.

BURNHAM, W. H. Education as a University Subject. _Educational
Review_, Vol. 26, pages 236-245.

BURNHAM and SUZZALO, _The History of Education as a Professional
Subject_, Teachers College, New York, 1908.

COOK, H. M. _History of the History of Education as a Professional
Study in the United States._ Unpublished thesis.

HINSDALE, B. A. The Study of Education in American Colleges and
Universities, _Educational Review_, Vol. 19, pages 105-120.

HORNE, H. H. A New Method in the History of Education. _The School
Review Monographs_, No. 3, Chicago, 1913; pages 31-35. Discussion of
same in _School Review_, May, 1913.

KIEHLE, D. L. The History of Education: What It Stands For. _School
Review_, Vol. 9, pages 310-315.

MONROE, P., and Others. History of Education; in Monroe's _Cyclopedia
of Education_, Vol. 3, New York, 1912.

MONROE, P. Opportunity and Need for Research Work in the History of
Education. _Pedagogical Seminary_, Vol. 17, pages 54-62.

MOORE, E. C. The History of Education. _School Review_, Vol. XI, pages
350-360.

NORTON, A. O. Scope and Aims of the History of Education. _Educational
Review_, Vol. 27.

PAYNE, W. H. Practical Value of the History of Education. _Proceedings
National Education Association_, 1889, pages 218-223.

REIN, W. Encyclopädisches Handbuch der Pädagogik. _Historische
Pädagogik._

ROBBINS, C. L. History of Education in State Normal Schools.
_Pedagogical Seminary_, Vol. 22, No. 3, pages 377-390.

ROSS, D. _Education as a University Subject: Its History, Present
Position, and Prospects._ Glasgow, 1883.

SUTTON, W. L., and BOLTON, F. E. The Relation of the Department of
Education to other Departments in Colleges and Universities. _Journal
of Pedagogy_, Vol. 19, Nos. 2-3.

WILLIAMS, S. G. Value of the History of Education to Teachers.
_Proceedings National Education Association_, 1889, pages 223-231.

WILSON, G. M. Titles of College Courses in Education. _Educational
Monographs_, No. 8, 1919, pages 12-30.


B. TEACHING EDUCATIONAL THEORY IN COLLEGE AND UNIVERSITY DEPARTMENTS OF
   EDUCATION

=Introductory=

Courses in education in a college or university department may be
roughly classified into (_a_) the theoretical phases of education,
(_b_) the historical phases, and (_c_) the applied phases. Under the
historical phases may properly be included courses in the general
history of education as well as those in the history of education in
special countries. The applied courses may include general and special
method, organization, administration, observation, and practice.
Educational theory is discussed below.

A couple of decades ago the terms "philosophy of education," "science
of education," and "general pedagogy," or just "pedagogy," were most
generally employed. At that time most of the work in education was
given in the departments of philosophy or psychology. Gradually
departments of education came to have an independent status. Among the
earliest were those at Michigan, under Dr. Joseph Payne, and the one
at Iowa, under Dr. Stephen Fellows. Previous to the vigorous
development of departments of education, the departments of psychology
and philosophy gave no special attention to the educational bearings
of psychology. But as soon as departments of education began to
introduce courses in educational psychology and child study, the
occupants of the departments of psychology rubbed their eyes, became
aware of unutilized opportunities, and then began to assert claims.

=Place of educational theory in the curriculum=

Ordinarily the courses in educational theory are given in the junior
year of college. In a few places, elementary or introductory courses
are open to freshmen. There is a distinct advantage in giving courses
to freshmen, if they can be made sufficiently concrete and grow out of
their previous experiences. The college of education in the University
of Washington, for example, is so organized that the student shall
begin to think of the profession of teaching immediately upon
entering the University. While the main work in education courses does
not come until the junior and senior years, the student receives
guidance and counsel from the outset in selecting his courses and is
helped to get in touch with the professional atmosphere that should
surround a teacher's college. The foundation work in zoölogy and
psychology is given as far as possible with the teaching profession in
mind. It is planned to give some work of a general nature in education
during the first two years, that will serve as vocational guidance and
will assist the student to arrange his work most advantageously and to
accomplish it most economically. By the more prolonged individual
acquaintance between students and faculty of the college of education,
it is hoped that the students will receive greater professional help
and the faculty will be better able to judge of the teaching abilities
of the students. The work in education and allied courses has been so
extended that adequate professional preparation may be secured. The
courses in zoölogy, psychology, and sociology are all directly
contributory to a knowledge of, and to an interpretation of, the
courses in education.

The great majority of undergraduate students taking education are
preparing to teach, and more and more they plan to teach in the high
schools. However, not a few students of medicine, law, engineering,
and other technical subjects take courses in education as a means of
general information. It would be exceedingly desirable if all citizens
would take general courses in education, and would come to understand
the meaning of educational processes and past and present practices in
educational procedure. If all parents and members of school boards
could have a few modern courses in educational theory and
organization, the work of school teachers would be very much
simplified.

So far as is known, no college or university makes education an
absolute requirement such as is made with respect to foreign
languages, science, mathematics, or philosophy. In a large majority of
states, some work in education is required for teacher's
certification. The number of states making such requirements is
rapidly increasing. Before long it will be impossible for persons to
engage in teaching without either attending a normal school or taking
professional courses in education in college.

=The scope of college courses in educational theory=

The theory of education as considered in this chapter will include all
those courses which have for their purpose the consideration of the
fundamental meaning of education and the underlying laws or principles
governing the education process. Educational theory is given in
different institutions under a great variety of titles. The following
are the most frequently offered: Principles of education, philosophy
of education, theory of education, educational psychology, genetic
psychology, experimental education, child study, adolescence, moral
education, educational sociology, social aspects of education.
Educational theory may be divided into courses which are elementary in
character, and those which are advanced. The purpose of the former is
to present to beginning students the fundamentals of reasonably
well-tested principles and laws, and to indicate to them something of
the various phases of education.

The purpose of advanced courses, especially in experimental education,
is to reach out into new fields and by study and experiment to test
and develop new theories. The experimental phases of education seek to
blaze new trails and to discover new methods of reaching more
economically and efficiently the goals which education seeks. Both of
these phases should be given in a college course in the theory of
education. Enough of the experimental work should be given in the
elementary course to enable students to distinguish between mere
opinion and well-established theory, to understand how the theories
have been derived, to know how to subject them to crucial tests, and
to give them some knowledge of methods of experimentation.

Education as a science is constantly confronted by the questions,
"What are the ends and aims of education?" and "What are the means of
accomplishing these ends?" These mean that there must be a study of
the ends of education as necessitated by the demands of society and
the needs of the individual himself. In determining the ends of
education, adult society, of which the individual is to be a part,
must be surveyed, as must also the social group of which the child is
now an integral part. In addition to these the laws of growth and
development must be studied, to understand what will contribute
effectively to the child's normal unfoldment.

The interpretation of the ends and means of education will determine
the field of the theory of education. This interpretation has been so
splendidly stated by Dewey that I venture to quote him at length. He
says (_My Pedagogic Creed_): "I believe that this educational process
has two sides--one psychological and one sociological: and that
neither can be subordinated to the other or neglected without evil
results following. Of these two sides, the psychological is the basis.
The child's own instincts and powers furnish the material and give the
starting point for all education. Save as the efforts of the educator
connect with some activity which the child is carrying on of his own
initiative independent of the educator, education becomes reduced to a
pressure from without. It may, indeed, give certain external results,
but cannot truly be called educative. Without insight into the
psychological structure and activities of the individual, the
educative processes will, therefore, be haphazard and arbitrary. If it
chances to coincide with the child's activity, it will get a leverage;
if it does not, it will result in friction, or disintegration, or
arrest of the child nature.

"I believe that knowledge of social conditions, of the present state
of civilization, is necessary in order properly to interpret the
child's powers. The child has his own instincts and tendencies, but we
do not know what these mean until we can translate them into their
social equivalents. We must be able to carry them back into a social
past and see them as the inheritance of previous race activities. We
must be able to project them into the future to see what their
outcome and end will be. In the illustration just used, it is the
ability to see in the child's babblings the promise and potency of the
future social intercourse and conversation which enables one to deal
in the proper way with that instinct.

"I believe that the psychological and social sides are organically
related, and that education cannot be regarded as a compromise between
the two, or a superimposition of one upon the other. We are told that
the psychological definition of education is barren and formal--that
it gives us only the idea of a development of all the mental powers
without giving us an idea of the use to which these powers are put. On
the other hand, it is urged that the social definition of education,
as getting adjusted to civilization, makes a forced and external
process, and results in subordinating the freedom of the individual to
a preconceived social and political status.

"I believe each of these objections is true when urged against one
side isolated from the other. In order to know what a power really is
we must know what its end, use, or function is; and this we cannot
know, save as we conceive of the individual as active in social
relationships. But, on the other hand, the only possible adjustment
which we can give to the child under existing conditions is that which
arises through putting him in complete possession of all of his
powers. With the advent of democracy and modern industrial conditions,
it is impossible to foretell definitely just what civilization will be
twenty years from now. Hence it is impossible to prepare the child for
any precise set of conditions. To prepare him for the future life
means to give him command of himself; it means so to train him that he
will have the full and ready use of all his capacities, that his eye
and ear and hand may be tools ready to command, that his judgment may
be capable of grasping the conditions under which it has to work, and
the executive forces be trained to act economically and efficiently.
It is impossible to reach this sort of adjustment save as constant
regard is had to the individual's own powers, tastes, and interests;
say, that is, as education is continually converted into psychological
terms.

"In sum, I believe that the individual who is to be educated is a
social individual, and that society is an organic union of
individuals. If we eliminate the social factor from the child, we are
left only with an abstraction; if we eliminate the individual factor
from society, we are left only with an inert and lifeless mass.
Education, therefore, must begin with a psychological insight into the
child's capacities, interests, and habits. It must be controlled at
every point by reference to these same considerations. These powers,
interests, and habits must be continually interpreted--we must know
what they mean. They must be translated into terms of their social
equivalents--into terms of what they are capable of in the way of
social service."

Therefore, the fundamental course in educational theory must include
(1) the biological principles of education, (2) the psychological
principles of education, and (3) the social principles of education.
This does not mean that the sequence must be as enumerated here. In
some places that is the sequence followed, in some other places the
social principles are studied first. As a matter of fact, all three
phases must be studied together to a considerable extent. Probably a
purely logical arrangement would place the social phases first, but it
is almost futile to attempt to present them effectively until
something of the biological and psychological laws are first
established. Again, the student in beginning the formal study of
education is already in possession of a vast body of facts concerning
society and the relation of education to it, so that reference can be
advantageously made in connection with the study of biological and
psychological laws of education. Then the social principles and
applications can be more thoroughly and scientifically considered in
the light of the other phases.

In administering a college course in the theory of education the great
desideratum is to try to formulate a body of knowledge which will
give the undergraduate students an idea of the meaning of education
and its problems and processes. In so far as possible it is desirable
to present material which in a certain sense will be practical.
Inasmuch as the majority of undergraduates who study education in a
college department intend to go into the practical work of teaching,
it is important to fortify them, as well as possible in the brief time
which they devote to the subject, concerning the best means of
securing definite results in education. The majority are not so much
interested in the abstract science or the philosophy of education as
they are in its practical problems. All courses in education should
seek to deal with fundamental principles and not dole out dogmatic
statements of practical means and devices, but at the same time no
principles should be considered with which the student cannot see some
relation to the educative processes. They are not primarily concerned
with the place of education among the sciences or with ontological and
teleological meanings of education or of its laws.

=Academic recognition of the introductory course=

The course in elementary educational theory should be on a par with a
course in principles of physics, one in principles of biology,
principles of psychology, principles of political science, etc. A
course in the principles of any of these subjects attempts to set
forth the main problems with which the science deals. Elementary
courses attempt to select those principles which have frequent
application in everyday life. The course in the principles of physics
deals with the elementary notions of matter, motion, and force, and
everyday illustrations and problems are sought. It would seem that in
a similar manner the college course in the foundations of education
should seek elementary principles which will enable the student to
accomplish the purpose of education; namely, to produce modifications
in individuals and in society in harmony with the ideals and ends of
education. Education is a process of adjusting individuals to their
environment, natural and accidental, and the environment which is
created through ideals held by society and by individuals themselves.
All education has to do with the development of the individual in
accordance with his potentialities and the ideals of education which
are set up. It is a practical science, an applied science, in the same
way that engineering is an applied science. Engineering does not deal
with ultimate theories of matter, force, and motion, except as they
are important in considering practical ends to be secured through the
application of forces. An elementary course in educational theory
should seek to include the foundations rather than to encompass all
knowledge about education. It is rather an introduction than an
encyclopedia.

Although a complete and logical treatise on the theory of education
might include a consideration of the course of study and the methods
of instruction, the making of a course of study, the problem of the
arrangement of the course of study, the various studies as instruments
of experience, the organization and administration of education, etc.,
it is questionable from a practical point of view whether they should
be given consideration in the undergraduate course. Mere passing
notice would at any rate seem sufficient. Each topic of the scope of
the foregoing is sufficient to form a course in itself, and the
introductory course should do no more than define their relation to
the general problem. In the principles of psychology the fields of
abnormal psychology, comparative psychology, child psychology,
adolescent psychology, etc., are defined and drawn upon for
illustration, yet no separate chapters are devoted to them. In
departments of political economy there are usually elemental courses
designed as an introduction to the leading principles of economic
science, but there are special courses in currency and banking, public
finance, taxation, transportation, distribution of wealth, etc.

Similarly in the college course in the theory of education, the work
should be concentrated upon fundamentals designed to introduce the
student to the many special problems. For example, the course of study
and the organization and administration of education should be
regarded as accessory rather than as fundamental. The laws underlying
processes of development and modification are what should occupy the
attention of the student in this elemental survey. A study of the
special means and agencies of education and forms of social
organization should be given in other courses by special names.
Secondary education, the kindergarten, administration and supervision,
methods in special subjects, etc., each deserve attention as a
distinct and separate course.

As shown by two surveys made by the writer, one in 1909 and the last
in 1916, the theory of education is most frequently given under the
terms "Principles of Education," "Educational Psychology," "Social
Phases of Education," "Educational Sociology," and "Child Study."
Therefore, a brief special discussion of each of these fields may be
desirable.

=Principles of education=

Under various names courses in principles of education are given in
most departments of education. The term "Principles of Education" does
not appear in all, being replaced by "Principles of Teaching,"
"Philosophy of Education," "Fundamentals of Teaching," "Introduction
to Education," "Science of Education," "Principles of Method," "Theory
of Education," etc. In some institutions the terms "Educational
Psychology" and "Child Study" stand for essentially the same thing as
the foregoing. In most institutions it is recognized that the teacher
must understand (_a_) the meaning and aim of education, (_b_) the
nature of the child considered biologically, psychologically,
socially, and morally, (_c_) the foundations of society and the
industries, (_d_) how to adapt and utilize educational means so as to
develop the potentialities of the child's nature and cause him to
achieve the aims of education.

=Biological principles=

In this section there should be an attempt first to enlarge the notion
of education, aiming to have it regarded as practically coincident
with life and experience. Of course there is the ideal side to which
individuals will strive, but the student should be impressed with the
fact that every experience leaves its ineffaceable effect upon all
organisms. In order to convey this idea we may begin with a
discussion of the effects of experience upon simple animal and plant
life and the general modifications produced in the adjustment of such
life to surroundings. Some familiar, non-technical facts in the
evolution of plant and animal life may be considered in their relation
to the question of adaptation and adjustment. Due notice should be
taken of the facts of adjustment as manifested in such illustrations
as the change of the eyes of cave animals, gradual modifications of
plant and animal life, the change of animals from sea life to land
life, some of the retrogressions, etc. A general study of the gradual
evolution of sense organs and the nervous system should be made,
because these illustrate in an excellent way the gradual modifications
produced by experience in the race. After this general survey, the
subject of innate tendencies may be considered through the discussion
of such chapters as Drummond's "The ascent of the body," "The
scaffolding left in the body," "The arrest of the body," "The dawn of
mind," "The evolution of language," etc. These discussions naturally
lead to a consideration of the lengthening period of human infancy,
and the importance of infancy in education. This in turn leads to a
brief consideration of the periods of childhood, adolescence, and
maturity, largely from a biological point of view. These should be
followed by a discussion of such topics as instinct, heredity, from
fundamental to accessory, the brain as an organ of mind, some of the
facts of psycho-physical correlation, and the reciprocal influence of
mind and body upon each other. Before leaving this general field,
thorough and designedly practical discussions of the importance of
physical development and culture for education in general and for
mental development, fatigue, habit, physical and mental hygiene, and
play should be considered.

=Educational psychology=

The next section should include what some authors term educational
psychology, and others call the psychological aspects of education. In
this section the first topic naturally considered is that of memory.
It grows out of the biological discussion of instinct, heredity, etc.
Included in the subject of memory is that of association. Following
this come imagination, imitation, training of the senses,
apperception, formal discipline, feeling, volition, motor training,
induction, etc. Periods of mental development and the specific topics
of childhood and adolescence should receive definite consideration,
though more exhaustive treatment should be reserved for a distinct
course in child study. The genetic point of view should be emphasized
throughout.

While the number of students registered for educational psychology is
not large, the numbers that are in reality pursuing this branch are
increasing. Fortunately, the "psychology for teachers" and "applied
psychology" of a score of years ago are giving way to a kind of
educational psychology that is much more vital. Men like Judd and
Thorndike are formulating a psychology of the different branches of
study and of the teaching processes involved that will enable the
teacher to see the connection between the psychological laws and the
processes to be learned. This sort of work has been made possible by
the work of Hall and his followers in studying the child and the
adolescent from the standpoint of growth periods and the types of
activity suited to each period. Educational psychology is therefore
represented richly in principles of education, genetic psychology,
mental development, child study, and adolescence, as well as in the
courses labeled "Educational Psychology."

=Social aspects of education=

Twelve years ago courses on social phases of education were probably
not offered anywhere, as they are not listed in my tabulation at that
time. Today they appear in some form or other in almost every
department of education. In Columbia the work is given as "Educational
Sociology." The departments of sociology also emphasize various phases
of educational problems. Courses on vocational education, industrial
education, and vocational guidance all emphasize the same idea. The
introduction of these courses means that the merely disciplinary aim
of education is fast giving way to that of adjustment and utility.
Educational means are (1) to enable the child to live happily and to
develop normally, and (2) to furnish a kind of training which will
enable him to serve society to the utmost advantage. In the courses on
educational sociology, there should be an attempt to help the student
feel that the highest aim of education is not individualistic, but
social. The purpose is to fit the individual for coöperation,
developing agencies of life that shall be mutually advantageous, for
democratic society seeks the highest welfare of all its members
through the coöperation and contribution of each of its members. It
teaches us not only the rights and privileges of society but also its
duties and obligations.

The best individual development also comes only through the social
interaction of minds, and consequently various phases of social
psychology must receive consideration. Various forms of coöperative
effort which enlist the interest of children at various stages of
development should be studied. Inasmuch as educators should link
school and home, typical illustrations of the manifold means of
relating the school and society should be studied, so that the teacher
will not be without knowledge of their possibilities.

=The child the center=

Throughout the country there is evidence that the curricula in
education departments have for their central object a scientific
knowledge of the child, and the better adaptation of educational means
to the development of the potentialities possessed by the child. This
idea is evidenced by the fact that the foundation courses are
psychology, principles of education, child study, educational
psychology. The fact that the history of education is still so largely
given as a relatively beginning course shows that the new idea has not
gained complete acceptance. Many specialized courses in child study
are offered, among them being such courses as the "Psychology of
Childhood," "Childhood and Adolescence," "Psychopathic, Retarded, and
Mentally Deficient Children," "Genetic Psychology," "The
Anthropological Study of Children," "The Physical Nature of the
Child." At the University of Pittsburgh a school of childhood has been
established which will combine in theory and practice the best ideals
in the kindergarten, the modern primary school, and the Montessori
system. Clark University has had for some years its Children's
Institute, which attempts to assemble the best literature on childhood
and the best materials of instruction in childhood. Many of the
courses in educational tests and measurements center around the study
of the child.

=Methods of teaching the subject=

Naturally, methods of teaching the subject vary exceedingly in the
different institutions. Each instructor to a large extent follows his
own individual inclinations. Probably the great majority pursue the
lecture method to a considerable extent. The lectures are generally
accompanied by readings either from some textbook or from collateral
readings.

The writer has personally pursued the combination method. For years
before his own book on _Principles of Education_ was completed the
subject was presented in lecture form, and accompanied by library
readings. Even now, with a textbook at hand, each new topic is
outlined in an informal development lecture. Definite assignments are
made from the text, and from collateral readings, which include
additional texts, periodical literature, and selected chapters from
various educational books. After students have had an opportunity to
read copiously and to think out special problems, an attempt is made
to discuss the entire topic orally. That is possible and very fruitful
in classes of the right size,--not over thirty. In large classes
numbering from sixty to one hundred or more, the oral discussion is
not profitable unless the instructor is very skilled in conducting the
discussion. The questions should never be for the purpose of merely
securing answers perfectly obvious to all in the class. The questions
should seek to unfold new phases of the subject. Difficult points
should be considered, new contributions should be made by the students
and the instructor, and all should feel that it is really an
enlargement, a broadening, and a deepening of ideas gained through the
lectures and the assigned readings. Very frequently individual
students should be assigned special topics for report. A good deal of
care must be exercised in this connection, for unless the material is
a real contribution and is presented effectively, the rest of the
students become wearied. If possible, the instructor should know
exactly what points are to be brought out, and the approximate amount
of time to be occupied.

Throughout, an attempt is made to make the work as concrete as
possible, and to show its relation to matters pertaining to the
schoolroom, the home, and the everyday conduct of the students
themselves. Each topic is treated with considerable thoroughness and
detail. No endeavor is made to secure an absolutely systematic and
ultra-logical system. The charge of being logically unsystematic and
incomplete would not be resented. There is no desire for a system. As
in the elementary stages of any subject, the first requisite is a body
of fundamental facts. There is time enough later to evolve an
all-inclusive and all-exclusive system. I am not aware that even the
"doctors" have yet fully settled this question. The psychological
order is the one sought. What is intelligible, full of living
interest, and of largest probable importance in the life and work of
the student teacher are the criteria applied in the selection of
materials. The student verdict is given much weight in deciding.

A rather successful plan of providing an adequate number of duplicates
of books much used has been developed by the writer at the State
University of Iowa and at the University of Washington. In all courses
in which no single suitable text is found the students are asked to
contribute a small sum, from twenty-five to fifty cents, for the
purpose of purchasing duplicates. These books are placed on the
reserve shelf, and this makes it possible for large classes to be
accommodated with a relatively small number of books. Ordinarily there
should be one book for every four or five students, if all are
expected to read the same assignment. If options are allowed, the
proportion of books may be reduced. The books become the property of
the institution, and a fine library of duplicate sets rapidly
accumulates. In about five years about fifteen hundred volumes have
been secured in this way at the University of Washington. Valuable
pamphlet material and reprints of important articles also are
collected and kept in filing boxes.

                                            FREDERICK E. BOLTON
  _University of Washington_


BIBLIOGRAPHY

1. ARTICLES ON TEACHING OF EDUCATIONAL THEORY

BOLTON, FREDERICK E. The Relation of the Department of Education to
Other Departments in Colleges and Universities. _Journal of Pedagogy_,
Vol. XIX, Nos. 2, 3, December, 1906, March, 1907.

---- Curricula in University Departments of Education. _School and
Society_, December 11, 1915, pages 829-841.

JUDD, CHARLES H. The Department of Education in American Universities.
_School Review_, Vol. 17, November, 1909.

HOLLISTER, HORACE A. Courses in Education Best Adapted to the Needs of
High School Teachers and High School Principals. _School and Home
Education_, April, 1917.

2. BOOKS ON THE GENERAL, BIOLOGICAL, AND PSYCHOLOGICAL PHASES OF
EDUCATION

BAGLEY, WILLIAM C. _The Educative Process._ The Macmillan Company,
1907. 358 pages.

---- _Educational Values._ The Macmillan Company, 1911. 267 pages.

BOLTON, FREDERICK E. _Principles of Education._ Charles Scribner's
Sons, 1910. 790 pages.

BUTLER, NICHOLAS MURRAY. _The Meaning of Education, and Other Essays._
The Macmillan Company, 1915. 386 pages. Revised Edition.

CUBBERLEY, ELLWOOD P. _Changing Conceptions of Education._ Houghton
Mifflin Company, 1909. 70 pages.

DAVENPORT, EUGENE. _Education for Efficiency._ D. C. Heath & Company,
1909. 184 pages.

DEWEY, JOHN. _Democracy and Education: An Introduction to the
Philosophy of Education._ Macmillan, 1916. 434 pages.

FREEMAN, FRANK N. _Experimental Education._ Houghton Mifflin Company,
1916. 220 pages.

---- _Psychology of the Common Branches._ Houghton Mifflin Company,
1916. 275 pages.

---- _How Children Learn._ Houghton Mifflin Company, 1917. 322 pages.

GORDON, KATE. _Educational Psychology._ Henry Holt & Co., 1917. 294
pages.

GROSZMANN, M. P. E. _Some Fundamental Verities in Education._ Richard
Badger, 1916. 118 pages.

GUYER, MICHAEL. _Being Well-Born._ Bobbs-Merrill Company, 1916. 374
pages.

HALL, G. S. _Educational Problems._ D. Appleton & Co., 1911. 2
volumes, 710 pages and 714 pages.

HECK, W. H. _Mental Discipline and Educational Values._ John Lane &
Co., 1911. 208 pages.

HENDERSON, CHARLES H. _Education and the Larger Life._ Houghton
Mifflin Company, 1912. 386 pages.

---- _What Is It to be Educated?_ Houghton Mifflin Company, 1914. 462
pages.

HENDERSON, ERNEST N. _A Textbook on the Principles of Education._ The
Macmillan Company, 1910. 593 pages.

HORNE, HERMAN H. _The Philosophy of Education._ The Macmillan Company,
1904. 295 pages.

---- _The Psychological Principles of Education._ The Macmillan
Company, 1906. 435 pages.

KLAPPER, PAUL. _Principles of Educational Practice._ D. Appleton &
Co., 1912. 485 pages.

MOORE, ERNEST C. _What is Education?_ Ginn and Co., 1915. 357 pages.

O'SHEA, M. VINCENT. _Dynamic Factors in Education._ The Macmillan
Company, 1906. 321 pages.

---- _Education as Adjustment._ Longmans, Green & Co., 1903. 348
pages.

---- _Linguistic Development and Education._ The Macmillan Company,
1907. 247 pages.

PYLE, WILLIAM H. _The Science of Human Nature._ Silver, Burdett & Co.,
1917. 229 pages.

---- _The Outlines of Educational Psychology._ Warwick & York, 1911.
276 pages.

RUEDIGER, WILLIAM C. _Principles of Education._ Houghton Mifflin
Company, 1910. 305 pages.

SPENCER, HERBERT. _Education, Intellectual, Moral, and Physical._ D.
Appleton & Co., 1900. 301 pages.

THORNDIKE, EDWARD L. _Principles of Teaching._ A. G. Seiler, 1906. 293
pages.

---- _Education: A First Book._ The Macmillan Company, 1912. 292
pages.

---- _Individuality._ Houghton Mifflin Company, 1911. 56 pages.

---- _Educational Psychology._ Teachers College, 1913. Vol. 1. The
Original Nature of Man. 327 pages.

3. BOOKS ON THE SOCIAL PHASES OF EDUCATION

BETTS, GEORGE H. _Social Principles of Education._ Charles Scribner's
Sons, 1912. 313 pages.

CABOT, ELLA L. _Volunteer Help to the Schools._ Houghton Mifflin
Company, 1914. 141 pages.

DEWEY, JOHN. _The School and Society._ University of Chicago Press,
1907. 129 pages.

---- _The Schools of Tomorrow._ E. P. Dutton & Co., 1915. 316 pages.

---- _Democracy and Education._ The Macmillan Company, 1916. 434
pages.

DEWEY, JOHN, and SMALL, ALBION W. _My Educational Creed._ E. L.
Kellogg & Co., 1897. 36 pages.

DUTTON, SAMUEL T. _Social Phases of Education in the School and the
Home._ The Macmillan Company, 1900. 259 pages.

GILLETTE, JOHN M. _Constructive Rural Sociology._ Sturgis & Walton,
1913. 301 pages.

KING, IRVING. _Education for Social Efficiency._ D. Appleton & Co.,
1913. 371 pages.

---- _Social Aspects of Education. A Book of Sources and Original
Discussions, with Annotated Bibliographies._ The Macmillan Company,
1912.

MCDOUGALL, WILLIAM. _An Introduction to Social Psychology._ John W.
Luce, 1914. 355 pages.

O'SHEA, M. VINCENT. _Social Development and Education._ Houghton
Mifflin Company, 1909. 561 pages.

SCOTT, COLIN A. _Social Education._ Ginn and Co., 1908. 300 pages.

SMITH, WALTER R. _An Introduction to Educational Sociology._ Houghton
Mifflin Company, 1917. 412 pages.

4. BOOKS ON CHILDHOOD AND ADOLESCENCE

DRUMMOND, WILLIAM B. _An Introduction to Child Study._ Longmans, Green
& Co., 1907. 347 pages.

GESELL, BEATRICE C. and ARNOLD. _The Normal Child and Primary
Education._ Ginn and Co., 1912. 342 pages.

GROSZMANN, M. P. E. _The Career of the Child._ Richard Badger, 1911.
335 pages.

HALL, G. STANLEY. _Youth, Its Education, Regimen, and Hygiene._ D.
Appleton & Co., 1907. 379 pages.

---- _Aspects of Child Life and Education._ Ginn and Co., 1907. 326
pages.

---- _Adolescence: Its Psychology and Its Relations to Physiology,
Anthropology, Sociology, Sex, Crime, Religion, and Education._ D.
Appleton & Co., 1904. 2 vols., 589 and 784 pages.

KING, IRVING. _The High School Age._ Robbs-Merrill Company, 1914. 288
pages.

KIRKPATRICK, EDWIN A. _Fundamentals of Child Study._ The Macmillan
Company, 1903. 384 pages.

---- _Genetic Psychology: An Introduction to an objective and genetic
view of intelligence._ The Macmillan Company, 1909. 373 pages.

OPPENHEIM, NATHAN. _The Development of the Child._ The Macmillan
Company, 1898. 296 pages.

SULLY, JAMES. _Studies of Childhood._ D. Appleton & Co., 1910. 527
pages.

SWIFT, EDGAR J. _Youth and the Race._ Charles Scribner's Sons, 1912.
342 pages.

TANNER, AMY E. _The Child: His Thinking, Feeling, and Doing._ 1904.
430 pages.

TERMAN, LEWIS M. _The Hygiene of the School Child._ Houghton Mifflin
Company, 1914. 417 pages.

TRACY, FREDERICK, and STIMPEL, JAMES. _The Psychology of Childhood._
D. C. Heath & Co., 1909. 231 pages.

TYLER, JOHN MASON. _Growth and Education._ Houghton Mifflin Company,
1907. 294 pages.

WADDLE, CHARLES W. _Introduction to Child Psychology._ Houghton
Mifflin Company, 1918. 307 pages.


Footnotes:

[56] "A New Method in the History of Education," _School Review
Monographs_, No. 3. H. H. Horne.

[57] Quoted in _School and Society_, Vol. 5, page 23, from President
Faunce's annual report. Recent articles on the cultural value of
courses in education are:

J. M. Mecklin, "The Problem of the Training of the Secondary Teacher,"
_School and Society_, Vol. 4, pages 64-67.

H. E. Townsend, "The Cultural Value of Courses in Education," _School
and Society_, Vol. 4, pages 175-176.

[58] Cf. Thomas M. Balliet, "Normal School Curricula," _School and
Society_, Vol. IV, page 340.

[59] "Can a College Department of Education Become Scientific?" _The
Scientific Monthly_, Vol. 3, No. 4, page 381.



  PART FOUR

  THE LANGUAGES AND LITERATURES

  CHAPTER

 XVIII THE TEACHING OF English LITERATURE
           _Caleb T. Winchester_

  XIX  THE TEACHING OF English COMPOSITION
           _Henry Seidel Canby_

   XX  THE TEACHING OF THE CLASSICS
           _William K. Prentice_

  XXI  THE TEACHING OF THE ROMANCE LANGUAGES
           _William A. Nitze_

 XXII  THE TEACHING OF GERMAN
           _E. Prokosch_



XVIII

THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH LITERATURE


=Scope of study of English literature in college=

It should be understood at the outset that this paper is concerned
with the study of literature, not in the university or graduate
school, but in the college, by the undergraduate candidate for the
bachelor's degree; and, furthermore, that the object of study is not
the history, biography, bibliography, or criticism of literature, but
the literature itself. Perhaps also the term "literature" may need
definition. As commonly--and correctly--used, the word "literature"
denotes all writing which has sufficient emotional interest, whether
primary or incidental, to give it permanence. As thus defined,
literature would include, for example, history and much philosophical
writing, and would exclude only writing of purely scientific or
technical character. But in the following pages the word will be used
in a narrower sense, as indicating those books that are read for their
own sake, not solely or primarily for their intellectual content. This
definition is elastic enough to comprise not only poetry, drama, and
fiction, but the essay, oratory, and much political and satirical
prose. It should be further understood that for the purpose of this
paper, English literature may be considered to begin about the middle
of the fourteenth century. Earlier and Anglo-Saxon writings are by no
means without great literary value, and it may at once be granted that
no college teacher of English literature is thoroughly equipped for
his work who is ignorant of them; but they can be read appreciatively
only after considerable study of the language, the method and motives
of which are linguistic rather than literary.

=Aims governing the teaching of English literature=

Perhaps it may be asked just here whether English literature, as thus
defined, need be studied in college at all. Until quite recently that
question seems generally to have been answered in the negative. Fifty
years ago, few if any of our American colleges gave any study to texts
of English classics. There were, indeed, in most colleges professors
of rhetoric and _belles-lettres_, whose lectures upon the history and
criticism of our literature were often of great value as an
inspiration to literary study; but it was only in the decade from 1865
to 1875 that in most of our colleges the literature itself, with
hesitating caution, began to be read and studied in the classroom.

=Can literary appreciation be developed?=

Nor was this hesitation without some reasons, at least plausible. The
chief object of college training, it was said, is to discipline and
strengthen the intellect, to give the student that grasp and power of
thought which he may apply to all the work of later life. The college
should not be expected to pay much attention to the cultivation of the
imagination and the emotions. These faculties, to which literature
makes appeal, are not, it was said, under the control of the will, and
you cannot cultivate or strengthen them by sheer resolve or strenuous
exertion. The first condition of any real appreciation of literature,
so ran the argument, is spontaneous enjoyment of it; and you cannot
command a right feeling for literature or for anything else. But a
normal development of the imagination and the emotions does usually
accompany the vigorous development of the intellect, so that the
advancing student will be found to turn spontaneously to art and
literature. And his appreciation of all the highest and deepest
meanings in literature will be quickened because he brings to his
reading a mind trained to accurate and vigorous thinking. Moreover,
all substantial advantages from the study of modern vernacular
literature can be better obtained from the Greek and Latin classics.
They afford the same richness of thought and charm of form as our
modern writing; but they demand for their appreciation that careful
attention and study which modern literature too often discourages. The
survivors of a former generation sometimes ask us today, with a touch
of sarcasm, "Do you think the average New England college student of
fifty to seventy-five years ago, when the Emersons and Longfellows and
Lowells were young men, the days of the old _North American Review_
and the new _Atlantic Monthly_, had any less appreciation and
enjoyment of whatever is good in literature, or any less power to
produce it, than the young fellows who are coming out of college today
after more than a quarter century of literary instruction?" And they
occasionally suggest that, at all events, it is difficult to find any
evidences of the result of such instruction in the quality of the
literature produced or demanded today.

=Conflict of utilitarian and cultural standards=

On the other hand, the study of English literature often fares little
better with the advocates of the modern practical tendency in
education. They have but scanty allowance for a study assumed to be of
so little use in the actual work of life. An acquaintance with
well-known English books, especially if they be modern books, is, they
admit, a desirable accomplishment if it can be gained without too much
cost, but not to be allowed the place of more valuable knowledge. A
typical modern father, writing not long ago to a modern educator,
after giving with equal positiveness the subjects that his boy must
have and must not have included in his course of study, added by way
of concession, "The boy might, if he has time, take English
literature."

=Cultural and utilitarian standards harmonized=

Now in answer to this second class of objectors, it may be frankly
admitted that the study of English literature is primarily, if not
entirely, cultural. A boy may not make a better engineer or practical
chemist for having studied in college the plays of Shakespeare or the
prose of Ruskin. And to the older objectors, who urge that literary
study can ever give that severe intellectual discipline afforded by
the older, narrower college course, we reply that it is not merely the
intellectual powers that need culture and discipline. The ideal
college training will surely not neglect the imagination and emotions,
the faculties which so largely determine the conduct of life. And at
no period in the educational process is the need of wide moral
training so urgent as in those years when the young man is forming
independent judgments and his tastes are taking their final set. The
study of English literature finds its warrant for a place in the
college curriculum principally because, better than any other subject,
it is fitted to cultivate both the emotional and the intellectual
sides of our nature. For in all genuine literature those two elements,
the intellectual and the emotional, are united; you cannot get either
one fully without getting the other. In some forms of literature, as
in poetry, the emotional appeal is the main purpose of the writing;
but even here no really profound or sublime emotion is possible
without a solid basis of thought.

=Appreciation the ultimate aim in the teaching of literature=

This, then, let us understand, is the primary object of all college
teaching in this department. It affords the student opportunity and
incitement to read, during his four years, a considerable number of
our best classics, representative of different periods and different
forms of literature, and to read them with such intelligence and
appreciation as to receive from them that discipline of thought and
feeling which literature better than anything else is fitted to
impart. If the student would or could do this reading by himself,
without formal requirement or assistance, there might be little need
of undergraduate teaching of literature; but every one who knows much
of American college conditions knows that the average undergraduate
has neither time, inclination, nor ability for such voluntary reading.

=Appreciative study of literary masterpieces involves vigorous mental
exercise=

Just here lies a difficulty peculiar to the college teacher in this
department. All studies that appeal primarily to the intellect and
call only for careful attention and vigorous thinking can be
prescribed, and mastery of them rigidly enforced. Indeed, the
ambitious student is often stimulated to more vigorous effort by the
very difficulty of his subject. But the appreciative reading of any
work of literature cannot thus be prescribed. Of course the instructor
may do much to help the student to such appreciation--that, indeed, is
his chief duty; but he will not try to expound or enjoin emotional
effects. Recognizing these limitations upon his work, he often finds
it difficult to avoid one or the other of two dangers that beset all
efforts to teach a vernacular literature; the student must not think
his reading an idle pastime, nor, on the other hand, must he think it
a repellent task. In the first case, he is likely never to read
anything well; in the second case, the things best worth reading he
will probably never read at all. Of the two dangers, the first is the
more serious. The student ought early to learn that no really good
reading is "light reading." And it may be remarked that this lesson
was never more needed than today. There was never a time when people
of all classes read more and thought less. We have what might almost
be called a plague of reading, and an astonishing amount of what is
called "reading matter" rolling out of our presses every year; while,
significantly, we are producing very few books of permanent literary
value. If the college study of literature is to encourage this
indolent receptive temper, and relax the intellectual fiber of the
student, then we might better drop it from the curriculum. The student
must somehow learn that the book that is worth while will tax his
thought, his imagination, his sympathies. He cannot be content merely
to leave the door of his mind lazily open to it. Every teacher knows
the difficulty in any attempt to inspire or direct such a pupil. And
the simpler the subject assigned him, the greater the difficulty. Give
him, for example, a group of the best lyrics in the language, in which
the thought is simple and the sentiment homely or familiar. He will
glance over them in half an hour, and then wonder what more you want
of him. And you may not find it so easy to tell him. For he does not
perceive nice shades of feeling, he has little sense of poetic form,
he has not read the poems aloud to get the charm of their melody, and
he will not let them linger in his mind long enough to feel that the
simplest sentiments are often the most profound and moving. He simply
tries to conjecture what sort of questions he is likely to meet on
examination. Doubtless from this type of pupil better results can be
obtained by the reading of prose not too familiar, that suggests more
questions for reflection and discussion.

=Suggestions for teaching of English literature--Emotional appreciation
to have an intellectual basis=

It is perhaps impossible to lay down a detailed method for the
teaching of English literature. Much depends upon the nature of the
literature read, the temperament of the teacher, the aptitude of the
pupil. Every teacher will, in great measure, discover his own methods.
At all events, no attempts will be made here to give more than a few
suggestions. In the first place, the teacher will remember that every
work of literature--except purely "imagist" poetry, which it is hardly
worth while to teach--is based upon some thought or truth; in most
varieties of prose literature this forms the main purpose of the
writing. The first object of the student's reading, therefore, must be
to understand thoroughly the intellectual element in what he reads;
and here the instructor can often be of direct assistance. And after
such careful reading, the higher emotional values of what he has read
will often disclose themselves spontaneously, so that the reader will
need little further help.

=Abundant oral reading by teacher an aid to appreciation=

Just here it is worth while to note the great value of reading aloud,
both by the teacher as a means of instruction, and by the pupil as a
test of appreciation. All good writing gains vastly when read thus.
Mentally, at all events, we must image its sound if we are to get its
full value. As to poetry, that goes without saying; for the essential,
defining element in poetry is music. You may have truth, beauty,
imagination, emotion, but without music you have not yet got poetry.
But it is hardly less true that prose should be read aloud. "The best
test of good writing," said Hazlitt--and no man in his generation
wrote better prose than he--"is, does it read well aloud." The
sympathetic oral reading of a passage from any prose master, a reading
that naturally indicates points of emphasis, shades of thought,
nuances of feeling, is often better than any formal explanation, for
it reproduces the living voice of the writer. The wise teacher will
avoid the mannerisms of the professed elocutionist or dramatic reader,
but he will not neglect the value of truthful oral interpretation for
many passages of beautiful, or subtle, or powerful writing. And the
student will often give a better proof of intelligent appreciation by
reading aloud, "with good accent and discretion," than by any more
elaborate form of examination.

=Knowledge of author's life and art and of ideals of the times necessary
for comprehension and appreciation=

Some varieties of literature can best be approached indirectly,
through a study of the life of the author, or of the age in which he
lived. As any great work of pure literature must come out of the
author's deepest life, it is evident that any knowledge of that life
gained from other sources may be an important aid in the appreciation
of his work. It is true that in the case of a writer of supreme and
almost impartial dramatic genius, such knowledge may be of
comparatively little value; though few of us will admit that it is
merely an idle curiosity that would be gratified by a fuller knowledge
even of the man William Shakespeare. But all the more subjective forms
of literature, such as the lyric and the essay, can hardly be studied
intelligently without some biographical introduction. Still more
obvious is the need in many instances of some accurate knowledge of
the period in which a given work is produced. For all such writing as
grows directly out of political or social conditions, as oratory, or
political satire, or various forms of the essay, this is clearly
necessary. It would be folly to attempt to read the speeches of Edmund
Burke or the political writings of Swift without historical
introduction and comment. But the historical setting is hardly less
important in many other forms of literature. For the whole cast of an
author's mind, the habitual tone of his feeling on most important
matters, is often largely decided by his environment. It is only a
very inadequate appreciation, for example, of the work not only of
Carlyle and Ruskin but of Tennyson, Browning, and Matthew Arnold, that
is possible without some correct knowledge of the varying attitude of
these men toward important movements in English thought, social,
economic, religious, between 1830 and 1880. It must always be an
important part of the duty of the college teacher of literature to
provide such biographical and historical information.

=Knowledge of an author's style to be result of appreciative study of
his works and not gathered from texts on literary criticism=

All careful study of literature must involve some attention to manner
or style--not so much, however, for its own sake, as a means for the
fuller appreciation of what is read. In strictness, style has only one
virtue, clearness; only one vice, obscurity. A perfect style is a
transparent medium through which we plainly see the thought and
feeling of the writer. Such a style may, indeed, often have striking
peculiarities, but these are really the marks of the writer's
personality, which his style reveals without exaggerating. All
rhetorical study ought, therefore, to accompany or follow, not to
precede, the careful reading for appreciation. No good book ought ever
to be considered a mere _corpus vile_ for rhetorical praxis.

=Careful attention to critical analysis=

Of much greater value is that distinctively critical analysis which
endeavors to discover the different elements, intellectual,
imaginative, emotional, that enter into any work of literature, and to
determine their relative amount and importance. Such analysis may well
form the subject of classroom discussion, and advanced students should
often be required to put the conclusions they have drawn from such
discussion into the form of a finished critical essay. All exercises
of this kind presuppose, of course, that the work criticized has been
read with interest and intelligence; but no form of literary study is
more stimulating or tends more directly to the formation of original
and accurate critical judgments. It affords the best test of real
literary appreciation.

=Content of college course in literature=

Obviously it is impossible with this method of study to cover the
entire field of English literature in the four college years. It is
wiser to read a few great books well than to read many smaller ones
hurriedly. It becomes, therefore, an important question on what
principle these books should be selected and grouped in courses. In
the opinion of the present writer, it is well to begin with a brief
outline sketch of the history of the literature given either in a
textbook or by lectures, and illustrated by a few representative
works, read carefully but without much detailed or intensive study.
Such an introductory course may have little cultural value; but it
furnishes that knowledge of the chronological succession of English
writers, and the varieties of literature dominant in each period, that
is necessary for further intelligent study. This knowledge should,
indeed, be given in the preparatory schools, but unfortunately it
usually is not. When given in college, the course should, if possible,
be assigned to the freshman year. In the later years, the works
selected for study will best be grouped either by period or by
subject. Both plans have their advantages, but in most instances the
first will be found the better. The study of a group of contemporary
writers always gains in interest as we see how they all, with striking
individual differences in temper and subject, yet reflect the social
and moral life of their age. Sometimes the two plans may be united; a
particular form of literature may be studied as the best
representative of a period, as the political pamphlet for the age of
Queen Anne or the extended essay for the first quarter of the
nineteenth century. And in some rare instances a single writer is at
once the highest representative of the age in which he lived and the
supreme master of the form in which he wrote--as Shakespeare for the
drama and Milton for the epic.

=Gradation of courses and adaptation of methods to growing capacities
of students=

These courses should all--in the judgment of the present writer--be
elective, but should be arranged in some natural sequence, those
assigned to a lower year being preparatory to those of a higher. This
sequence need not always be historical; the simpler course may well
precede those which for any reason are more difficult. Methods of
instruction will also naturally change, becoming less narrowly
didactic with the advancement of the student. In the senior year the
teacher will usually prefer to meet his classes in small sections, on
the seminar plan, for informal discussion and the criticism of papers
written by his pupils on questions suggested by their reading. Of such
questions, students who for four years have been reading the
masterpieces of English literature will surely find no lack.

The number of courses that can be offered in the department will
depend in some cases upon the relative size of the faculty and the
student body. For in no other subject is it more important, especially
in the later years, that the classes or sections should be small
enough to allow some intimate personal touch between professor and
student. It may be safely said that no college department of English
literature is well officered or equipped that does not furnish at
least four or five year-long courses of instruction. And certainly no
student can maintain for four years such an acquaintance with the best
specimens of a great literature without gaining something of that
broad intelligence, heightened imagination, and just appreciation of
whatever is best in nature and in human life, which combine in what we
call culture.

=Undergraduate vs. graduate teaching of English literature=

Throughout this paper it has been assumed that what has been termed
appreciation--that is, the ability to understand and enjoy the best
things in literature--is the one central purpose to which all efforts
must be subservient, in the teaching of English literature. But it
should be remembered, as stated at the outset, that this paper has to
do with the college undergraduate only, the candidate for the
bachelor's degree. In the university, and to some extent in the
graduate courses of the college leading to the master's degree, the
subjects and methods of teaching may well be very different. Studies
in comparative literature, studies of literary origins, the
investigation of perplexed or controverted questions in the life or
work of an author, the study and elucidation of the work of an unknown
or little-known writer--all these and many other similar matters may
very properly be the subjects of specialized graduate study. But they
will rarely be found of most profit to undergraduate classes.

                                            CALEB T. WINCHESTER
  _Wesleyan University_



XIX

THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH COMPOSITION[60]


=Language an index of mental development=

"Deeds, not words," is a platitude--a flat statement which reduces the
facts of the case to an average, and calls that truth. It is absurd to
imply, as does this old truism, that we may never judge a man by his
words. Words are often the most convenient indices of education, of
cultivation, and of intellectual power. And what is more, a man's
speech, a man's writing, when properly interpreted, may sometimes
measure the potentialities of the mind more thoroughly, more
accurately, than the deeds which environment, opportunity, or luck
permit. It is hard enough to take the intellectual measure even of the
makers of history by their acts, so rapidly does the apparent value of
their accomplishments vary with changing conceptions of what is and
what is not worth doing. It is infinitely more difficult to judge in
advance of youths just going out into the world by what they do. Their
words, which reveal what they are thinking and how they are thinking,
give almost the only vision of their minds; and "by their words ye
shall know them" becomes not a perversion, but an adaptation of the
old text. Would you judge of a boy just graduated entirely by the acts
he had performed in college? If you did, you would make some profound
and illuminating mistakes.

This explains, I think, why parents, and teachers, and college
presidents, and even undergraduates, are exercised over the study of
writing English--which is, after all, just the study of the proper
putting together of words. They may believe, all of them, that their
concern is merely for the results of the power to write well--the
ability to compose a good letter, to speak forcibly on occasion, to
offer the amount of literacy required for most "jobs." But I wonder if
the quite surprising keenness of their interest is not due to another
cause. I wonder if they do not feel--perhaps unconsciously--that words
indicate the man, that the power to write well shows intellect, and
measures, if not its profundity, at least the stage of its development.
We fasten on the defects of the letters written by undergraduates, on
their faltering speeches, on their confused examination papers, as
something significant, ominous, worthy even of comment in the press. And
we are, I believe, perfectly right. Speech and writing, if you get them
in fair samples, indicate the extent and the value of a college
education far better than a degree.

=Disappointing results from teaching of composition=

It is this conviction which, pressing upon the schools and colleges,
has caused such a flood of courses and textbooks, such an expenditure
of time, energy, and money in the teaching of composition, so many
ardent hopes of accomplishment, so much bitter disappointment at
relative failure. I do not know how many are directly or indirectly
teaching the writing of English in America--perhaps some tens of
thousands; the imagination falters at the thought of how many are
trying to learn it. Thus the parent, conscious of this enormous
endeavor and the convictions which inspire it, is somewhat appalled to
hear the critics without the colleges maintaining that we are not
teaching good writing, and the critics within protesting that good
writing cannot be taught.

=Fixing responsibility for alleged failure of composition teaching=

It is with the teachers, the administrators, the theorists on
education, but most of all the teachers, that the responsibility for
the alleged failure of this great project--to endow the college
graduate with adequate powers of expression--must be sought. But these
guardians of expression are divided into many groups, of which four
are chief.

There is first the great party of the Know-Nothings, who plan and
teach with no opinion whatsoever as to the ends of their teaching.
Under the conditions of human nature and current financial rewards for
the work, this party is inevitably large; but it counts for nothing
except inertia. There is next the respectable and efficient cohort of
the Do-Nothings, who believe that good writing and speaking are
natural emanations from culture, as health from exercise or clouds
from the sea. They would cultivate the mind of the undergraduate, and
let expression take care of itself. They do not believe in teaching
English composition. Next are the Formalists, who hold up a dictionary
in one hand, the rules of rhetoric in the other, and say, "Learn
these, and good writing and good speaking shall be added unto you."
The Formalists have weakened in late years. There have been desertions
to the Do-Nothings, for the work of grinding rules into unwilling
minds is hard, and it is far easier to adopt a policy of
_laissez-faire_. But there have been far more desertions into a party
which I shall call, for want of a better name, the Optimists. The
Optimists believe that in teaching to write and speak the American
college is accepting its most significant if not its greatest duty.
They believe that we must understand what causes good writing, in
order to teach it; and that for the average undergraduate writing must
be taught.

=Divergent views on teaching of composition=

The best way to approach this grand battleground of educational
policies is by the very practical fashion of pretending (if pretense
is necessary) that you have a son (or a daughter) ready for college.
What does he need, what must he have in a writing way, in a speaking
way, when he has passed through all the education you see fit to give
him? What should he possess of such ability in order to satisfy the
world and himself? Facts, ideas and imagination, to put it roughly,
make up the substance of expression. Facts he must be able to present
clearly and faithfully; ideas he must be able to present clearly and
comprehensively; his imagination he will need to express when his
nature demands it. And for all these needs he must be able to use
knowingly the words which study and experience will feed to him. He
must be able to combine these words effectively in order to express
the thoughts of which he is capable. And these thoughts he must work
out along lines of logical, reasonable developments, so that what he
says or writes will have an end and attain it. In addition, if he is
imaginative--and who is not?--he should know the color and fire of
words, the power of rhythm and harmony over the emotions, the
qualities of speech whose secret will enable him to mold language to
his personality and perhaps achieve a style. This he should know; the
other powers he must have, or stop short of his full efficiency.

Alas, we all know that the undergraduate, in the mass, fails often to
attain even to the power of logical, accurate statement, whether of
facts or ideas. It is true that most of the charges against him are to
a greater or less degree irrelevant. Weighty indictments of his powers
of expression are based upon bad spelling: a sign, it is true, of
slovenliness, an indication of a lack of thoroughness which goes
deeper than the misplacing of letters, but not in itself a proof of
inability to express. Great writers have often misspelled; and the
letters which some of our capable business men write when the
stenographer fails to come back after lunch are by no means
impeccable. Other accusations refer to a childish vagueness of
expression--due to the fact that the American undergraduate is often a
child intellectually rather than to any defects in composition _per
se_. But it is a waste of time to deny that he writes, if not badly,
at least not so clearly, so correctly, so intelligently, as we expect.
The question is, why?

It would be a comfort to place the blame upon the schools; and indeed
they must take some blame, not only because they deserve it, but also
to enlighten those critics of the college who never consider the kind
of grain which comes into our hoppers. The readers of college entrance
papers could tell a mournful story of how the candidates for our
freshman classes write. Here, for an instance, is a paragraph intended
to prove that the writer had a command of simple English, correct in
sentence structure, spelling, capitalization, and punctuation. The
subject is "The Value of Organized Athletics in Schools"--not an
abstruse one, or too academic:

     If fellows are out in the open and take athletics say at a
     certain time every-day; These fellows are in good health and
     allert in their lessons, while those who take no exercise are
     logy and soft. Organized athletics in a school bring the former,
     while if a school has no athletics every-thing goes more or less
     slipshod, and the fellows are more liable to get into trouble,
     because they are nervious from having nothing to do.


This is a little below the average of the papers rejected for entrance
to college. It is not a fair sample of what the schools can do, but it
is a very fair sample of what they often do not do. It was not written
by a foreigner, nor, I judge, by a son of illiterate parents, since it
came from an expensive Eastern preparatory school. The reader, marking
with some heat a failure for the essay from which this paragraph is
extracted, would not complain of the writer's paucity of ideas. His
ideas are not below the average of his age. He would keep his wrath
for the broken, distorted sentences, the silly spelling, the lack
(which would appear in the whole composition) of even a rudimentary
construction to carry the thought. Spelling, the fundamentals of
punctuation, and the compacting of a sentence must be taught in the
schools, for it is too late to cure diseases of these members in
college. They can be abated; but again and again they will break out.
It is the school's business to teach them; and the weary reader sees
in this unhappy specimen but a dark and definite manifestation of a
widespread slovenliness in secondary education, a lack of thoroughness
which appears not only in the failures, but also, though in less
measure, among the better writers, whose work is too good in other
respects not to be reluctantly passed.

Again, it would be easy to place much of the blame for the slipshod
writings of the undergraduate upon the standards set by his elders
outside the colleges. Editors can tell of the endless editing which
contributions, even from writers supposed to be professional, will
sometimes require. And when such a sentence as the following slips
through, and begins an article in a well-known, highly respectable
magazine, we can only say, "If gold rust, what will iron do?"

     Yes the Rot--and with a very big R--in sport: for that, thanks to
     an overdone and too belauded a Professionalism by a large section
     of the pandering press, is what it has got to.


Again, any business man could produce from his files a collection of
letters full of phrasing so vague and inconsequential that only his
business instincts and knowledge of the situation enable him to
interpret it. Any lawyer could give numberless instances where an
inability to write clear and simple English has caused litigation
without end. Indeed, the bar is largely supported by errors in English
composition! And as for conversation conducted--I will not say with
pedantical correctness, for that is not an ideal, but with accuracy
and transparency of thought--listen to the talk about you!

However, it is the business of the colleges to improve all that; and
though it is not easy to develop in youth virtues which are more
admired than practiced by maturity, let us assume that they should
succeed in turning out writers of satisfactory ability, even with
these handicaps, and look deeper for the cause of their relative
failure.

=Democratizing education and immigration the cause of poor quality
of expression=

The chief cause of the prevalent inadequacy of expression among our
undergraduates is patent, and its effects are by no means limited to
America, as complaints from France and from England prove. The
mob--the many-headed, the many-mouthed, figured in the past by poets
as dumb, or, at best, an incoherent thing of brutish noises signifying
speech--is acquiring education and learning how to express it.
Hundreds of thousands whose ancestors never read, and seldom talked
except of the simpler needs of life, are doing the talking and the
writing which their large share in the transaction of the world's
business demands. Indeed, democracy requires not only that the
illiterate shall learn to read and write in the narrower sense of the
words, but also that the relatively literate must seek with their
growing intellectuality a more perfect power of expression. And it is
precisely from the classes only relatively literate--those for whom in
the past there has been no opportunity, and no need, to become highly
educated--that the bulk of our college students today are coming, the
bulk of the students in the endowed institutions of the East as well
as in the newer State universities of the West. The typical
undergraduate is no longer the son of a lawyer or a clergyman, with an
intellectual background behind him.

There is plenty of grumbling among college faculties, and in certain
newspapers, over this state of affairs. In reality, of course, it is
the opportunity of the American colleges. Let the motives be what they
may, the simple fact that so many American parents wish to give their
children more education than they themselves were blessed with is a
condition so favorable for those who believe that in the long run only
intelligence can keep our civilization on the path of real progress,
that one expects to hear congratulations instead of wails from the
college campuses.

Nevertheless, we pay for our opportunity, and we must expect to pay.
The thousands of intellectual immigrants, ill-supplied with means of
progress, indefinite of aim, unaware of their opportunities, who land
every September at the college gates, constitute a weighty burden, a
terrible responsibility. And the burden rests upon no one with more
crushing weight than upon the unfortunate teacher of composition. That
these entering immigrants cannot write well is a symptom of their
mental rawness. It is to be expected. But thanks to the methods of
slipshod, ambitious America, the schools have passed them on still
shaky in the first steps of accurate writing--spelling, punctuation,
sentence structure, and the use of words. Thanks to the failure of
America to demand thoroughness in anything but athletics and business,
they are blind to the need of thoroughness in expression. And thanks
to the inescapable difficulty of accurate writing, they resist the
attempt to make them thorough, with the youthful mind's instinctive
rebellion against work. Nevertheless, whatever the cost, they must
learn if they are to become educated in any practical and efficient
sense; the immigrants especially must learn, since they come from
environments where accurate expression has not been practiced--often
has not been needed--and go to a future where it will be required of
them. Not even the Do-Nothing school denies the necessity that the
undergraduate should learn to write well. But how?

=Solutions proposed by four types of instructors=

The Know-Nothing school proposes no ultimate solution and knows none,
unless faithfully teaching what they are told to teach, and accepting
the sweat and burden of the day, with few of its rewards, be not in
its blind way a better solution than to dodge the responsibility
altogether.

The Formalists labor over precept and principle--disciplining,
commanding, threatening--feeling more grief over one letter lost, or
one comma mishandled, than joy over the most spirited of incorrect
effusions. They turn out sulky youths who nevertheless have learned
something.

The Do-Nothings propose a solution which is engaging, logical--and
insufficient. They are the philosophers and the æsthetes among
teachers, who see, what the Formalists miss, that he who thinks well
will in the long run write as he should. Their special horror is of
the compulsory theme, extracted from unwilling and idealess minds.
Their remedy for all ills of speech and pen is: teach, not writing and
speaking, but thinking; give, not rules and principles, but materials
for thought. And above all, do not force college students to study
composition. The Do-Nothing school has almost enough truth on its side
to be right. It has more truth, in fact, than its principles permit it
to make use of.

The umpire in this contest--who is the parent with a son ready for
college--should note, however, two pervading fallacies in this
_laissez-faire_ theory of writing English. The first belongs to the
party of the right among the Do-Nothings--the older teachers who come
from the generation which sent only picked men to college; the second,
to the party of the left--the younger men who are distressed by the
toil, the waste, the stupidity which accompany so much work in
composition.

The older men attack the attempt to teach the making of literature.
Their hatred of the cheap, the banal, and the false in literature that
has been machine-made by men who have learned to express finely what
is not worth expressing at all, leads them to distrust the teaching of
English composition. They condemn, however, a method of teaching that
long since withered under their scorn. The aim of the college course
in composition today is not the making of literature, but writing; not
the production of imaginative masterpieces, but the orderly
arrangement of thought in words. Through no foresight of our own, but
thanks to the pressure of our immigrants upon us, we have ceased
teaching "eloquence" and "rhetoric," and have taken upon ourselves the
humbler task of helping the thinking mind to find words and a form of
expression as quickly and as easily as possible. The old teacher of
rhetoric aspired to make Burkes, Popes, or De Quinceys. We are content
if our students become the masters rather than the servants of their
prose.

The party of the left presents a more frontal attack upon the teaching
of the writing of English. Show the undergraduate how to think, they
say; fill his mind with knowledge, and his pen will find the way. Ah,
but there is the fallacy! Why not help him to find the way--as in
Latin, or surveying, or English literature? The way in composition can
be taught, as in these other subjects. Writing, like skating, or
sailing a boat, has its special methods, its special technique, even
as it has its special medium, words, and the larger unities of
expression. The laws which govern it are simple. They are always in
intimate connection with the thought behind, and worthless without it;
but they can be taught. Ask any effective teacher of composition to
show you what he has done time and again for the freshman whose
sprawling thought he has helped to form into coherent and unified
expression. And do not be deceived by analogies drawn from our
colleges of the mid-nineteenth century, where composition was not
taught, and men wrote well; or from the English universities, where
the same conditions are said (with dissenting voices) to exist. In the
first place, they had no immigrant problem in the mid-century, nor
have they in Oxford and Cambridge. In the second, the rigorous
translation back and forward between the classics and the mother
tongue, now obsolete in America, but still a requisite for an English
university training, provides a drill in accuracy of language whose
efficiency is not to be despised.

The student must express his intellectual gains even as he absorbs
them, or the crystallization of knowledge into personal thought will
be checked at the beginning. The boy must be able to say what he
knows, or write what he knows, or he does not know it. And it is as
important to help him express as to help him absorb. The teachers in
other departments must aid in this task or we fail; but where the
whole duty of making expression keep pace with thought and with life
is given to them, they will be forced either to overload, or to
neglect all but the little arcs that bound their subjects. And since
they are specialists in other fields, and so may neglect that
technique of writing which in itself is a special study, their task,
when they accept it, is hard, and their labor, when it is forced upon
them, too often ineffective. Composition must be taught where college
education proceeds--that is the truth of the matter; and if not taught
directly, then indirectly, with pain and with waste.

The school of the Optimists approaches this question of writing
English with self-criticism and with a full realization of the
difficulties, and of the tentative nature of the methods now in use,
but with confidence as to the possibility of ultimate success. In
order to be an Optimist in composition you must have some stirrings of
democracy in your veins. You must be interested in the need of the
average man to shape his writing into a useful tool that will serve
his purposes, whether in the ministry or the soap business. This is
the utilitarian end of writing English. And you must be interested in
developing his powers of self-expression, even when convinced that no
great soul is longing for utterance, but only a commonplace human
mind--like your own--that will be eased by powers of writing and of
speech. It is here that composition is of service to the imagination,
and incidentally to culture; and I should speak more largely of this
service if there were space in this chapter to bring forward all the
aspects of college composition. It is the personal end of writing
English. If the average man turns out to be a superman with mighty
purposes ahead, or if he has a great soul seeking utterance, he will
have far less need of your assistance; but you can aid him,
nevertheless, and your aid will count as never before, and will be
your greatest personal reward, though no greater service to the
community than the countless hours spent upon the minds of the
multitude.

In order to be an Optimist it is still more important to understand
that writing English well depends first upon intellectual grasp, and
second upon technical skill, and always upon both. As for the first,
your boy, if you are the parent of an undergraduate, is undergoing a
curious experience in college. Against his head a dozen teachers are
discharging round after round of information. Sometimes they miss;
sometimes the shots glance off; sometimes the charge sinks in. And his
brain is undergoing less obvious assaults. He is like the core of soft
iron in an electro-magnet upon which invisible influences are
constantly beating. His teachers are harassing his mind with methods
of thinking: the historical method; the experimental method of
science; the interpretative method of literature. Unfortunately, the
charges of information too often lodge higgledy-piggledy, like
bird-shot in a signboard; and the waves of influence make an
impression which is too often incoherent and confused. If the
historians really taught the youth to think historically from the
beginning, and the scientists really taught him to think
scientifically from the beginning, and he could apply his new methods
of thought to the expression of his own emotions, experiences, life,
then the teacher of composition might confine himself to the second
of his duties, and teach only that technique which makes writing to
uncoil itself as easily and as vividly as a necklace of matched and
harmonious stones. In the University of Utopia we shall leave the
organization of thought to the other departments, and have plenty left
to do; but we are not yet in Utopia.

At present, the teacher of composition stands like a sentry at the
gates of knowledge, challenging all who come out speaking random words
and thoughts; asking, "Have you thought it out?" "Have you thought it
out clearly?" "Can you put your conclusions into adequate words?" And
if the answers are unsatisfactory, he must proceed to teach that
orderly, logical development of thought from cause to effect which
underlies all provinces of knowledge, and reaches well into the
unmapped territories of the imagination. But even in Utopia
composition must remain the testing ground of education, though we
shall hope for more satisfactory answers to our challenges. And even
in Utopia, where the undergraduate perfects his thinking while
acquiring his facts, it will be the duty of the teacher of writing to
help him to apply his intellectual powers to his experiences, his
emotions, his imagination, in short, to self-expression. And there
will still remain the technique of writing.

=How to teach college students the art of self-expression?=

Theoretically, when the undergraduate has assembled his thoughts he is
ready and competent to write them, but practically he is neither
entirely ready nor usually entirely competent. It is one thing to
assemble an automobile; it is another thing to run it. The technique
of writing is not nearly as interesting as the subject and the thought
of writing; just as the method of riding a horse is not nearly as
interesting as the ride itself. And yet when you consider it as a
means to an end, as a subtle, elastic, and infinitely useful craft,
the method of writing is not uninteresting even to those who have to
learn and not to teach it. The technique of composition has to do with
words. We are most of us inapt with words; even when ideas begin to
come plentifully they too often remain vague, shapeless, ineffective,
for want of words to name them. And words can be taught--not merely
the words themselves, but their power, their suggestiveness, their
rightness or wrongness for the meaning sought. The technique of
writing has to do with sentences. Good thinking makes good sentences,
but the sentence must be flexible if it is to ease the thought. We can
learn its elasticity, we can practice the flow of clauses, until the
wooden declaration which leaves half unexpressed gives place to a
fluent and accurate transcript of the mind, form fitting substance as
the vase the water within it. This technique has to do with
paragraphs. The critic knows how few even among our professional
writers master their paragraphs. It is not a dead, fixed form that is
to be sought. It is rather a flexible development, which grows beneath
the reader's eye until the thought is opened with vigor and with
truth. It is interesting to search in the paragraph of an ineffective
editorial, an article, or theme, for the sentence that embodies the
thought; to find it dropped like a turkey's egg where the first
opportunity offers, or hidden by the rank growth of comment and
reflection about it. Such research is illuminating for those who do
not believe in the teaching of composition; and if it begins at home,
so much the better. And finally, the technique of writing has to do
with the whole, whether sonnet, or business letter, or report to a
board of directors. How to lead one thought into another; how to
exclude the irrelevant; how to weigh upon that which is important; how
to hold together the whole structure so that the subject, all the
subject, and nothing but the subject shall be laid before the reader;
this requires good thinking, but good thinking without technical skill
is like a strong arm in tennis without facility in the strokes.

The program I have outlined is simpler in theory than in practice. In
practice, it is easier to discover the disorder than the thought which
it confuses; in practice, technical skill must be forced upon
undergraduates unaccustomed to thoroughness, in a country that in no
department of life, except perhaps business, has hitherto been
compelled to value technique. Even the optimist grows pessimistic
sometimes in teaching composition.

And yet in the teaching of English the results are perhaps more
evident than elsewhere in the whole range of college work. It is
wonderful to see what can be accomplished by an enthusiast in the
sport of transmuting brains into words. When the teacher seeks for his
material in the active interests of the student--whether athletics or
engineering or literature or catching trout--when he stirs up the
finer interests, drawing off, as it were, the cream into words, the
results are convincing. Writing is one of the most fascinating, most
engaging of pursuits for the man with a craving to grasp the reality
about him and name it in words. And even for the undergraduate, whose
imagination is just developing, and whose brain protests against
logical thought, it can be made as interesting as it is useful.

The teaching of English composition in this country is a vast industry
in which thousands of workmen are employed and in which a million or
so of young minds are invested. I do not wish to take it too
seriously. There are many accomplishments more important for the
welfare of the race. And yet, if it be true that maturity of intellect
is never attained without that clearness and accuracy of thinking
which can be made to show itself in good writing, then the failure of
the undergraduate to write well is serious, and the struggle to make
him write better worthy of the attention of those who have children to
be educated. I do not think that success in this struggle will come
through the policy of _laissez-faire_. All undergraduates profit by
organized help in their writing; many require it. I do not think that
success will come by a pedantical insistence upon correctness in form
without regard to the sense. Squeezing unwilling words from
indifferent minds may be discipline; it certainly is not teaching. I
think that success will come only to the teacher who is a middleman
between thought and expression, valuing both. When we succeed in
making the bulk of the undergraduates really think; when we can
inspire them with a modicum of that passion for truth in words which
is the moving force of the good writer; when the schools help us and
the outside world demands and supports efficiency in diction; then we
shall carry through the program of the Optimists.

                                             HENRY SEIDEL CANBY
  _Yale University_


Footnotes:

[60] Reprinted in revised form from _College Sons and College
Fathers_, Harper and Brothers.



XX

THE TEACHING OF THE CLASSICS


=Significance of recent criticisms of the teaching of the classics=

Methods of teaching are determined to a large extent by appreciation
of the objects to be attained. If teachers make clear to themselves
just what they wish to accomplish, they will more easily develop the
means. The storm of objection now rising against the study of the
Classics indicates clearly that there is a general dissatisfaction
with the result of this study. There is a striking unanimity on this
subject among persons of widely different talent and experience, of
whom some are still students, while others are looking back upon their
training in school and college after years of mature life. Their
adverse criticism is all the more significant because often expressed
with obvious regret. Some, who have had unusual opportunities for
observation, state their opinion in no uncertain language. For
example, Mr. Abraham Flexner, in his pamphlet "A Modern School," on
page 18 says: "Neither Latin nor Greek would be contained in the
curriculum of the Modern School--not, of course, because their
literatures are less wonderful than they are reputed to be, but
because their present position in the curriculum rests upon tradition
and assumption. A positive case can be made out for neither." The
president of Columbia University, in his Annual Report for 1915-1916,
page 15, speaking of the "teachers of the ancient classics," says:
"They have heretofore been all too successful in concealing from their
pupils the real significance and importance of Greek and Latin
studies." Such criticisms, however, do not prove that the study of the
Classics cannot accomplish all that its advocates claim for it, but
only that it is not now accomplishing satisfactory results.

Undoubtedly there are various causes for a depreciation of classical
studies at the present time. Other subjects, such as mathematics, are
suffering from a similar disparagement. In recent years interest has
centered more and more in studies designed to develop powers of
observation, give knowledge of certain facts, or provide equipment for
some particular vocation, to the neglect of those which discipline the
mind or impart a general culture. It is certainly important,
therefore, to consider the relative values of these various studies.
To do so it is desirable to examine the aims of classical teaching and
the methods by which these aims may be realized; for it is at least
possible that the widespread dissatisfaction with this teaching is due
not so much to the subject itself as to defects and insufficiency in
the methods employed.

=The present aims of classical teaching=

Not all teachers of the Classics agree in all respects as to the aims
of their teaching. Certain aims, however, are common to all the
classical departments in American colleges. These are:

1. To train students, through the acquisition and use of the ancient
languages, in memory, accuracy, analysis and logic, clearness and
fluency of expression, and style.

2. To enable certain students to read with profit and enjoyment the
masterpieces of Greek and Latin literature.

3. To impart to certain students a knowledge, as complete as possible,
of the classical civilization as a whole. To a complete knowledge of
this civilization belongs all that the ancients possessed or did, all
that they thought or wrote, whether or not any particular part of it
had an influence upon later times or is, in itself, interesting or
valuable now. All parts alike are phenomena of the life of these
ancient peoples and so of the life of the human race.

4. To impart a knowledge and understanding of the thoughts and ideas,
the forms of expression, the institutions, and the experiences of the
ancients, in so far as these are either actually valuable in
themselves to the modern world or have influenced the development of
modern civilization.

Besides these aims which are common to all, there are certain others
less generally pursued by classical teachers in this country. Among
these are:

5. To make students familiar with "the Greek (and Latin) in English,"
i.e. with the etymology and history of words in our own language which
had their origin in or through Greek or Latin.[61]

6. To trace the influences of the classic literature upon modern
literature and thought.[62]

7. To train those who expect to teach the Classics in pedagogical
methods, and to familiarize them with modern pedagogical
appliances.[63]

8. To teach the language of the New Testament and of the Church
Fathers.[64]

The classical departments of some colleges also give courses in Modern
Greek[65]: such courses, however, belong properly to the field of
Modern Languages.

Now it is by no means certain that all of these aims properly concern
all classes of students. On the contrary, every one would doubtless
agree that those described under Nos. 7 and 8 do not concern the
average student of the Classics. It is also a debatable question
whether it should be the aim of classical teaching to give all
classical students some knowledge of the classic civilization as a
whole; whether, for example, Aristophanes and Plautus, however
important these authors may be for a complete understanding of the
ancient life and literature, are worth while for all classical
students alike. It is far more important, however, to determine
whether, in that which seems to many persons the chief business of a
classical department, all who study the masterpieces of the ancient
literatures should be taught to study them in the original language.

=Teaching from the originals only=

No one doubts that classical departments should provide courses on the
ancient literature in the original, or that the æsthetic qualities of
a literature can be _fully_ appreciated only in the original language.
Some people, however, maintain that every literary production is
primarily a work of art, and consequently that its æsthetic qualities
are its most essential qualities: that to teach the classical
literature through the medium of translations would be aiming at an
imperfect appreciation of its most essential qualities, and would also
divert students from the study of its original form. Yet in most
colleges courses on painting and sculpture are given through the
medium of photographs, casts and copies, and no one questions the
value and effectiveness of such courses, or doubts that they tend to
increase the desire of the students to know the originals themselves.
Similarly courses on Greek literature in translations are given at
many American colleges, for example at Bucknell, California, Colorado,
Harvard,[66] Idaho, Illinois, Kansas, Lafayette, Leland Stanford,
Michigan, Missouri, New York University, North Dakota, Pennsylvania,
Syracuse, Tennessee, Vermont, Washington University, Wesleyan, and
Wisconsin: courses in Latin literature in translations at California,
Colorado, Kansas, Leland Stanford, Pennsylvania, Tennessee, and
Washington University. Besides these there are courses at some
colleges on Greek or Roman Life and Thought,[67] or Life and
Letters,[68] or Civilization,[69] most of which do not involve the use
of the ancient languages on the part of the students. For example, at
Brown courses which require no knowledge of the ancient languages are
given in both Greek and Roman "Civilization as Illustrated by the
Literature, History and Monuments of Art."[70] Harvard also offers
courses entitled "A Survey of Greek Civilization" and "A Survey of
Roman Civilization, Illustrated from the Monuments and Literature," in
which a knowledge of the ancient languages is not required.

In deciding the question here at issue it is essential to distinguish
between the different kinds of literature. The value of certain
literary productions undoubtedly consists chiefly in the æsthetic
qualities of their form; that is, the excellence and influence of
these productions depends upon the particular language actually used
by the author. Such works of literature lose very much in translation,
and it may be asserted with some reason that they lose their most
essential qualities. It may well be doubted, therefore, whether any
one can derive great pleasure or benefit from the study of the poems
of Sappho or the odes of Horace, for example, unless these are studied
in the original. The value of other literary productions, on the other
hand, lies partly in their form and partly in their content, or in
their content alone. It is quite a different question, therefore,
whether one may derive a satisfactory pleasure and benefit from a
translation of the _Agamemnon_ of Æschylus or Thucydides' _History of
the Peloponnesian War_, of Lucretius or Tacitus, to say nothing of
such books as Aristotle's _Constitution of Athens_.

=Teaching only from classical texts=

There is another and still more important question connected with the
theory of classical teaching, namely whether all classical courses
should be based upon or begin with the study of some classical text.
Some are of the opinion that it is the business of classical teachers
to teach the Greek and Latin languages, and the literatures in these
languages, and that anything which cannot be taught best through the
study of some portion of the classical literature in the original
should be taught by some other department of the college. Consequently
in some institutions courses on ancient literature in English
translations are given by the English Department,[71] courses on Greek
and Roman History, Archaeology, and Philosophy by the Departments of
History, Archaeology, and Philosophy, respectively, courses on the
Methods and Equipment of Teaching the Classics by the Department of
Pedagogy.

Others, less extreme in their views, hold (_a_) that any study of the
Greek or Roman civilization apart from the original ancient literature
would be vague, discoursive, and unprofitable, and in particular that
a discussion of a literature or of literary forms without an
immediate, personal acquaintance with this literature or these
literary forms in the original would not be useful, and (_b_) that
such courses would have little permanent value for the students
because it would not be possible to compel the students to make much
effort for themselves.

Quite the opposite opinion on this most important question is held by
those who believe (_a_) that the study of the Classics should not be
confined to those who are now able, or may in the future be expected,
to read the ancient literature in the original, (_b_) that there are
some things even about the ancient literature and civilization which
can be taught more effectively without the loss of time and the
division of attention involved in reading the ancient authors in the
original, and (_c_) that in courses such as those dealing with ancient
history ancient books on these subjects, either in the original or in
translations, cannot properly be used as textbooks for the reason
that, quite apart from their errors and misconceptions, these books do
not contain, except incidentally, those phases of the ancient life
which are the most interesting and valuable to the modern world. Such
persons consider that the attempt to convey an appreciation of the
ancient literature through those limited portions of it which can be
read by the students in the original is necessarily ineffective. They
hold that to appreciate any literature one must study it as
literature,--i.e., as English literature should be studied by English
students, French literature by French students,--and that literary
study of this sort properly begins where translation and exegesis
leave off. And finally, they maintain that the effort to give students
a lively knowledge of ancient life or ancient history through the
ancient texts is precisely like the effort to illustrate ancient life
by ancient works of art; e.g., to give a student an idea of an ancient
soldier by showing him an ancient picture of a soldier. Such
illustrations convey instead the impression that ancient life was both
unattractive and unreal, that the study of it is childish and
unpractical.[72]

=Courses in the ancient languages=

Many classical courses are designed primarily to teach the classical
languages themselves, or to give mental training through the study and
use of these languages. Until recently most American colleges required
for admission an elementary knowledge of these languages involving
commonly at least three years of preparatory training in Greek and
from three to five years of preparatory Latin. Now, however, many
colleges provide courses for beginners in Greek, some also for
beginners in Latin. For example, courses for beginners in Greek are
given at Bryn Mawr, University of California, Chicago, Colorado,
Columbia, University of North Dakota, Dartmouth, Harvard, Idaho,
Illinois, Johns Hopkins, Kansas, Lafayette, Leland Stanford, Michigan,
New York University, Northwestern, University of Pennsylvania,
University of Tennessee, Vanderbilt, Vermont, Washington University,
Wesleyan, Williams, Wisconsin, Yale, and elsewhere. Courses for
beginners in Latin are given, for example, at the Universities of
Idaho, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin. Ordinarily these courses resemble
in general plan and method the corresponding courses in secondary
schools; but inasmuch as the students are more mature, the progress is
much more rapid.

=The "Natural Method"=

In some institutions the attempt is made in teaching ancient Greek and
Latin to employ methods used by the teachers of modern languages. Some
classical teachers have even adopted to some extent the so-called
"natural" or "direct" method of language teaching[73]: commonly such
attempts have not been very successful, and where some degree of
success has been attained the success seems due to the personality and
enthusiasm of the individual teacher. Others have contented themselves
with devoting a part of certain courses to exercises designed to show
the students that the classical languages were at one time in daily
use among living people and were the media of ordinary conversation[74].
Students in such courses commonly memorize certain colloquial phrases
and take part in simple conversations in which these phrases can be
used. Such methods, skillfully employed, undoubtedly relieve the
tedium of the familiar drill in grammar and "prose composition," and
may help materially in imparting both a knowledge of the ancient
languages and a facility in reading the ancient authors.

An interesting experiment is now being tried at the University of
California in a course in Greek for beginners, given by Professor James
T. Allen. The description of the course in the university catalogue is
as follows: "An Introduction to the Greek Language based upon graded
selections from the works of Menander, Euclid, Aristophanes, Plato,
Herodotus, and the New Testament. The method of presentation emphasizes
the living phrase, and has as its chief object the acquiring of reading
power. Mastery of essential forms; memorizing of quotations; practice in
reading at sight." This course has had considerable success. More than
three hundred students have been enrolled thus far in a period of six or
seven years, and some of these have testified that it was one of the
most valuable courses they have had in any subject. One of the chief
advantages has been that the students, while learning forms and
vocabulary, are reading some real Greek, and that of first-rate
quality.[75]

=Use of modern literature in ancient Greek or Latin=

Various attempts have been made, especially in recent years, to
provide for classical students modern stories in ancient Latin, in the
belief that modern students will acquire a practical knowledge of the
language more readily from such textbooks than from any parts of the
ancient literature.[76] The story of Robinson Crusoe was translated
into Latin by G. F. Goffeaux, and this version has been edited and
republished by Dr. Arcadius Avellanus, Philadelphia, 1900 (173 pages).
An abridgement of the original edition was edited by P. A. Barnett,
under the title _The Story of Robinson Crusoe in Latin, adapted from
Defoe by Goffeaux_, Longmans, Green and Co., 1907. Among original
compositions in ancient Latin for students may be mentioned (1)
Ritchie's _Fabulae Faciles_, A First Latin Reader, edited by John
Copeland Kirtland, Jr., of Phillips Exeter Academy, Longmans, Green &
Co., 1903 (134 pages). (2) _The Fables of Orbilius_ by A. D. Godley,
London, Edward Arnold, two small pamphlets, illustrated, containing
short and witty stories for beginners. (3) _Ora Maritima_, A Latin
Story for Beginners, by E. A. Sonnenschein, seventh edition, 1908,
London, Kegan, Paul and Co.; New York, The Macmillan Company (157
pages). This is the account of the experiences of some boys during a
summer in Kent. (4) _Pro Patria_, A Latin Story for Beginners by
Professor E. A. Sonnenschein, London, Swan, Sonnenschein and Co.; New
York, The Macmillan Company, 1910 (188 pages). (5) _Rex Aurei Rivi,
auctore Johanne Ruskin, Latine interpretatus est Arcadius Avellanus,
Neo-eboraci_, 1914 (Published by E. P. Prentice). (6) F. G. Moore:
_Porta Latina_, Fables of La Fontaine in a Latin Version, Ginn and
Co., 1915.

A series of translations of modern fiction is now being produced under
the title of The Mount Hope Classics, published by Mr. E. P. Prentice,
37 Wall Street, New York City. The translator is Dr. Arcadius
Avellanus. The first of these appeared in 1914 under the title
_Pericla Navarci Magonis_, this being a translation of _The Adventures
of Captain Mago_, or _With a Phoenician Expedition, B. C. 1000_, by
Léon Cahun, Scribner's, 1889. The second volume, _Mons Spes et Fabulae
Aliae_, a collection of short stories, was published in 1918. The
third, _Mysterium Arcae Boule_, published in 1916, is the well-known
Mystery of the Boule Cabinet by Mr. Burton Egbert Stevenson. The
fourth, _Fabulae Divales_, published in 1918, is a collection of fairy
stories for young readers to which is added a version of Ovid's _Amor
et Psyche_.

Over these books a lively controversy has arisen between Dr. Avellanus
and Mr. Charles H. Forbes, of Phillips Academy, Andover.[77]
Undoubtedly the translator's style and vocabulary are far from being
strictly in accord with the present canons of classical Latin. He
employs a multitude of words and idioms unfamiliar to those whose
reading has been confined to the masterpieces of the ancient
literature which are most commonly studied. On the other hand, the
ancient language is made in these books a medium of modern thought.
The stories presented hold the attention, the vividness of the
narrative captivates the reader and carries him through the
obscurities of diction and of style to a wholly unexpected realization
that Latin is a real language after all.

It is a serious question whether students can ever acquire a mastery
of a language, or even a sufficient knowledge of it really to
appreciate its literature, unless they learn to use this language to
express their own thoughts. But it is evident that it is impossible
adequately to express modern ideas in the language of Cæsar and
Cicero. Those who would exclude the Latin of comparatively recent
authors such as Erasmus from the canon of the Latin which may be
taught, as well as those who confine their teaching to the translation
and parsing of certain texts, are raising the question whether the
Latin language should be taught at all in modern times.

Naturally less effort has been made to provide for students modern
literature in ancient Greek. At least one such book, however, is
available, _The Greek War of Independence, 1821-27, told in classical
Greek for the use of beginners_ (with notes and exercises) by C. D.
Chambers: published by Swan, Sonnenschein and Co.

=Courses in "Prose Composition"=

In nearly all American colleges courses in Greek and Latin composition
are given, either as a means of mental training or in order to give a
more complete mastery of these languages and a greater facility in
reading the literature. In some places, for example at the University
of California, a series of courses is given in both Greek and Latin
composition culminating in original compositions, translations of
selections from modern literature, and conversation in the ancient
languages. Courses in Latin conversation[78] are given in other places
also, and courses in the pronunciation of ancient Greek and Latin.[79]

All such courses belong to the general field of the study of the
classical languages as distinguished from the study of the literature,
history, or any other phase of the classical civilization. This branch
of language study, of course, includes such purely linguistic courses
as those in Comparative Philology, Comparative Grammar, the Morphology
of the Ancient Languages, Syntax, Dialects, etc.

=Courses in literature=

The bulk of classical teaching in American colleges is devoted to the
literature. The great majority of all college courses in Latin and
Greek have the same general characteristics.[80] A certain limited
portion of text is assigned for preparation. This text is then
translated by the students in class, and the translation corrected.
Grammatical and exegetical questions and the content of the passage
are discussed. Most of the time at each meeting of the class is
consumed in such exercises. Generally lectures or informal talks are
given by the instructor upon the life and personality of each author
whose work is read, upon the life and thought of his times, upon the
literary activity as a whole, and upon the value of those selections
from his works which are the subject of the course. Sometimes the
students are required to read more of the original literature than can
be translated in class. Generally some collateral reading in English
is assigned. Often the instructor reads to the class, usually from the
original, other portions of the ancient literature.

The number and extent of such courses in the different institutions
vary according to the strength of the faculty, the plan of the
curriculum, and the number and demands of the students in each. In the
main, however, the list of selections from the ancient literature
presented in such courses in all the colleges is much the same. Many
of these courses deal with one particular author and his works, such
as Sophocles, Plato, Plautus, or Horace. Others deal with some
particular kind of literature, such as Greek tragedy or oratory, Latin
comedy, etc., or with a group of authors of different types combined
for the sake of variety.[81]

=Methods commonly pursued=

The methods as well as the aims of such courses are well exemplified
in the following passages contained in the _Circular of Information_
for 1915-1916 of the University of Chicago, page 211: "Ability to read
Greek with accuracy and ease, and intelligent enjoyment of the
masterpieces of Greek literature are the indispensable prerequisites
of all higher Greek scholarship. All other interests that may attach
to the study are subordinate to these, and their pursuit is positively
harmful if it prematurely distracts the student's attention from his
main purpose."

It is not immediately apparent what distinction is made here, if there
is any, between the "prerequisites" and the "main purpose" of
classical scholarship. What the chief aim of classical teaching is
according to this view, however, is made clear by the two paragraphs
which follow, as well as by the descriptions of the individual courses
offered by the Chicago faculty.

"In the work of the Junior Colleges the Department will keep this
principle steadily in view, and will endeavor to teach a practical
knowledge of Greek vocabulary and idiom, and to impart literary and
historic culture by means of rapid viva voce translation and
interpretation of the simpler masterpieces of the literature.... In the
Senior Colleges the chief stress will be laid on reading and exegesis,
but the range of authors presented to the student's choice will be
enlarged."

=Value of such courses=

The advantage of such courses is that they make the students who take
them familiar with at least some limited portions of the best of the
ancient literature in its original form, and most people are agreed
that this is the only way in which students can be taught to
appreciate that part of this literature, the value of which lies
chiefly or wholly in its form. But people are not agreed upon two most
serious questions which arise in this connection. The first is whether
all students are capable of appreciating at all literature of this
sort, especially when it is conveyed in an ancient and difficult
language. The other question is how much of the classical literature
really depends for its values chiefly upon its form. To say that the
Psalms and the Gospels have no value or little value for the world
apart from the original form and language in which they were written
would, of course, be absurd. Is it any less absurd to say that the
study of the Homeric poems, the Attic tragedies, the works of
Thucydides and Plato would have little value for students unless this
literature were studied in the original language? These questions
cannot properly be ignored any longer by teachers of the Classics.

=Defects of these courses=

The defects of such courses are manifest to most persons. Students who
pursue these courses through most of the years of secondary school and
college fail to acquire either such a knowledge of the Greek and Latin
languages as would enable them to read with pleasure and profit a
Greek or Latin book, or such a knowledge of the Greek and Roman
literature and civilization as would enable them to appreciate the
value of classical studies. Many of them graduate from college without
even knowing that there is anything really worthy of their attention
in the classical literatures. The fact stares the teachers of the
Classics grimly in the face that they are not accomplishing the aims
which they profess.

One explanation of this fact suggests itself. In the classical courses
commonly given in American colleges the attention paid to the content
of the literature, to the author and his times--the lectures and
readings by the instructor, the discussion of archaeological,
historical, literary, and philosophical matters introduced into the
course,--distract attention from the study of the language itself, and
check this study before a real mastery of the language has been
secured. On the other hand, the time and still more the attention
devoted in these courses to the mere process of translation detracts
from the appreciation of the literature and obstructs the study of
the life and thought. In attempting to accomplish both purposes in
these courses the teachers fail to accomplish either, and the result
is chiefly a certain mental training, the practical value of which
depends largely upon the mental capacity and skill of each individual
teacher, and is not readily appreciated.

=Courses not requiring knowledge of the ancient languages=

To obviate some of these defects, and also to provide courses on Greek
and Roman culture for those unfamiliar with the ancient languages,
courses which require no use of these languages are now given at
various colleges on Classical Literature or Civilization.[82] A course
on the "Greek Epic" at the University of California is described as
follows: "A study chiefly of the Iliad and the Odyssey; their form,
origin, and content; Homeric and pre-Homeric Aegean civilizations;
relative merits of modern translations; influence of the Homeric poems
on the later Greek, Roman, and modern literature. Lectures (partly
illustrated), assigned readings, discussions, and reports." The course
at Harvard entitled "Survey of Greek Civilization" is "A lecture
course, with written tests on a large body of private reading (mostly
in English). No knowledge of Greek is required beyond the terms which
must necessarily be learned to understand the subject." "The
prescribed reading includes translations of Greek authors as well as
modern books on Greek life and thought." The lecturer frequently reads
and comments upon selections from the ancient literature. At Brown
University a course is given on Greek Civilization, including the
following topics: I Topography of Greece, II Prehistoric Greece, III
The Language, IV Early Greece (The Makers of Homer, Expansion of
Greece, Tyrannies, The New Poetry, etc.), V The Transition Century,
600-500 B. C. ((_a_) Government and Political Life, (_b_) Literature,
(_c_) art), VI The Classical Epoch, 500-338 B. C. ((_a_) Political and
Military History, (_b_) Literature, (_c_) The Fine Arts), VII The
Hellenistic and Græco-Roman Periods, ((_a_) History, (_b_) Literature,
(_c_) Philosophy, (_d_) Learning and Science, (_e_) Art), VIII The
Sequel of Greek History (The Byzantine Empire, the Italian
Renaissance, Mediæval and Modern Greece). This is described as "Wholly
a lecture course, with frequent written tests, examination of the
notebooks, and a final examination on the whole. Definite selections
of the most conspicuous authors are required in English translations."
The Lecturer also reads selections from Homer, the Greek drama,
Pindar, etc. Similar courses on Roman civilization are given at both
Brown and Harvard. There is also a course of fifteen lectures on
"Greek Civilization" at Vermont; "The Culture History of Rome,
lectures with supplementary reading in English," at Washington
University; "Greek Civilization, lectures and collateral reading on
the political institutions, the art, religion, and scientific thought
of ancient Greece in relation to modern civilization," at Wesleyan;
"The Role of the Greeks in Civilization" at Wisconsin.[83]

=Defects of the lecture system=

Whatever success such courses may have, they are open to one
criticism. Most, if not all of them, appear to be primarily lecture
courses, with more or less collateral reading controlled by tests and
examinations. The experience of many, however, justifies to some
extent the belief that college students derive little benefit from
collateral reading controlled only in this way, because such reading
is commonly most superficial. Little mental training, therefore, is
involved in courses such as those just described, and the ideas which
the students acquire in them are chiefly those given to them by
others. And it may reasonably be doubted whether the value to the
students of ideas received in this way is comparable to the value of
those which they are led to discover for themselves. So far, then, as
such courses fail to accomplish the purposes for which they were
designed, their failure may be due wholly to this cause.

=The study of literature apart from its original language=

It is entirely possible to conceive of courses in which no use of the
ancient languages would be required, but in which the students would
acquire by their own efforts a knowledge of the classical literature
and civilization far more extensive and more satisfying than in
courses largely devoted to translating from Greek and Latin. Such
courses would not merely substitute English translations for the
originals, and treat these translations as the originals are treated
in courses of the traditional type; the ancient literature would be
studied in the same way as English literature is studied. For example,
in a course of this kind on Greek literature, in dealing with the
Odyssey the students would discuss in class, or present written
reports upon, the composition of the poem as a whole, and the relation
to the main plot of different episodes such as the quest of
Telemachus, his visit to Pylos and Lacedæmon, the scene in Calypso's
cave, the building of the raft, the arrival of Odysseus among the
Phæacians, his account of his own adventures, his return to Ithaca,
the slaying of the wooers, etc.; also the characters of the poem,
their individual experiences and behavior in various circumstances,
and the ideas which they express, comparing these characters and ideas
with those of modern times. In dealing with the drama, the students
would study the composition of each play, present its plot in
narrative form, and criticize it from the dramatic as well as from the
literary standpoint; they would discuss the characters and situations,
and the ideas embodied in each.[84] In dealing with Thucydides they
would discuss the plan of his book and the artistic elements in its
composition; also the critical standards of the author, his methods,
his objectivity, and his personal bias. They would study the debates
in which the arguments on both sides of great issues are presented,
expressing their own opinions on the questions involved. They would
study the great descriptions, such as the account of the siege of
Platæa, the plague at Athens, the last fight in the harbor of
Syracuse, making a summary in their own language of the most essential
or effective details. Lastly they would discuss such figures as
Pericles, Nicias and Alcibiades, Archidamus, Brasidas and Hermocrates,
their characters, principles, and motives. In dealing with Plato they
would study the character of Socrates and those ideas contained in the
Platonic dialogues which can be most readily comprehended by college
students.

=Classical studies not confined to the ancient authors=

The study of "The Classics" is not properly confined to the Greek and
Latin literatures: it includes the military, political, social, and
economic history of the ancient Greeks and Romans, their institutions,
their religion, morals, philosophy, science, art, and private life.
The geography and topography of ancient lands, anthropology and
ethnology, archaeology and epigraphy contribute to its material. It is
not necessary that all these subjects be taught by members of a
classical department. In particular it is the common practice in this
country to relegate the study of ancient philosophy to the Department
of Philosophy, whereas in England and on the Continent such
distinctions between departments are not recognized. But certainly
these branches of the study of the classical civilization should be
taught best by those most familiar with the classical civilization in
all its phases, and most thoroughly trained in the interpretation and
criticism of its literature. It is also obvious that the teaching of
the classical literature would be emasculated if it were separated
from these other subjects mentioned. Only, such subjects as history
should not be taught from the literary point of view. History should
be an account of what actually took place, derived from every
available source and not from a synthesis of a literary tradition. In
this respect the teachers of the Classics have from the earliest times
made the most serious mistakes. To some extent the same charges may be
brought against the methods and traditions of the teachers of modern
history. The teaching of Greek and Roman history, however, is affected
in a peculiar degree by the traditions of classical scholarship. The
historical courses given by most classical teachers are based upon the
translation and discussion of the works of certain ancient authors,
whose accounts are not only false and misleading in many respects, but
characteristically omit those factors in the ancient life which are
the most significant and interesting to the modern world. Such courses
begin by implanting false impressions which no amount of explanation
can eradicate. The ancient world, therefore, is made to appear to
modern students unreal and unworthy of serious attention: it is not
strange that they are dissatisfied with such teaching, and that it
seems to many practically worthless. A true picture of the life and
experience of the ancient Greeks and Romans would appear both
interesting and profitable to a normal college student.

=Summary of objects to be sought in the teaching of the classics=

The aims of the teaching of the Classics in American colleges should
be to give, in addition to a training of the mind:

1. An appreciation of the best of the classical literature. For this
is, in many respects, the best literature which we have at all, even
when without any allowances it is compared with the best of modern
literatures. Much of it is universal in character. It is also the
foundation of the modern literatures. By learning to appreciate it,
students would learn to judge and appreciate all literature.

2. A familiarity with the characters and narratives of the ancient
literature. The knowledge of these characters, their behavior under
various vicissitudes of fortune, and their experiences, would of
itself be a valuable possession and equipment for life.

3. A knowledge of the ideas of the ancient Greeks and Romans, revealed
and developed in their literature, and tested in the realities of
their life. Many of these ideas are of the utmost value today, and are
in danger of being overlooked and forgotten in this materialistic age
of ours, unless they are constantly recalled to our minds by such
studies.

4. A knowledge of the actual experiences of the ancients, as
individuals and as nations, their experiments in democracy and other
forms of government, in imperialism, arbitration, and the like, their
solutions of the moral, social, and economic problems which were as
prominent in their world as in ours.

To realize these aims old methods should be revised and improved, new
methods developed. For there can hardly be a study more valuable and
practical than this.

                                            WILLIAM K. PRENTICE
  _Princeton University_


Footnotes:

[61] For example, at the University of Kansas.

[62] Leland Stanford, Michigan, Princeton.

[63] California, North Dakota, Harvard, Idaho, Illinois, Kansas,
Leland Stanford, Michigan, Oberlin, Otterbein, Pennsylvania, Vermont,
Wisconsin, Yale, etc. Some of these courses are offered only to
graduate students, and some are given by the Departments of
Pedagogics.

[64] In New Testament or Patristic Greek at Austin, Bucknell,
California, Cornell, Harvard, Illinois, Lafayette, Michigan, Millsaps,
Trinity, Wesleyan. In Patristic Latin, Bucknell and elsewhere.

[65] Brown, Cornell, Leland Stanford.

     [_N. B._ These lists are by no means complete.]

[66] History of Greek Tragedy. Lectures with reading and study of the
plays of Æschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides. Requires no knowledge of
the Greek language.

[67] E.g., Columbia, Lafayette.

[68] California, Washington University.

[69] Colorado, Idaho, Syracuse, Vermont, Washington University,
Wesleyan, Wisconsin.

[70] It should be noted that at Brown the titles of the classical
departments are "The Department of Greek Literature and History" and
"The Department of Roman Literature and History."

[71] At Cornell and Oberlin, for example.

[72] See especially Clarence P. Bill. "The Business of a College Greek
Department," _Classical Journal_, IX (1913-14), pp. 111-121.

[73] See the article by Mr. Theodosius S. Tyng in _Classical Weekly_,
VIII (1915), Nos. 24 and 25. Also M. J. Russell: "The Direct Method of
Teaching Latin," in the _Classical Journal_, XII (1916), pages
209-211, and other articles on this subject in the _Classical Journal_
and the _Classical Weekly_ in recent years.

[74] For example, "Latin Conversation," at Columbia; "Oral Latin," at
Leland Stanford; "Sight Reading and Latin Speaking," at New York
University.

[75] See Professor Allen's article, "The First Year of Greek," in the
_Classical Journal_, X (1915), pages 262-266.

[76] As early as the seventeenth century books were produced which may
be regarded as the forerunners of this sort of modern composition in
the ancient language. One of these was published in 1604 under the
title: "Iocorum atque seriorum tum novorum tum selectorum atque
memorabilium libri duo, recensente Othone Melandro." Another is the
"Terentius Christianus seu Comoediae Sacrae--Terentiano stylo a Corn.
Schonaeo Goudono conscriptae, editio nova Amstelodami 1646": this
includes dramas such as Naaman (princeps Syrus), Tobaeus (senex),
Saulus, Iuditha, Susanna, Ananias, etc. Still another is the "Poesis
Dramatica Nicolai Amancini S. J.," in two parts, published in 1674 and
1675. A century later there appeared a story which, judging from its
title, was designed primarily for students: "Joachimi Henrici Campe
Robinson Secundus Tironum causa latine vertit Philippus Julius
Lieberkühn," Zullich, 1785.

[77] See the _Classical Journal_, XI (1914), pages 25-32; _Classical
Weekly_, IX (1915-16), pages 149-151; X (1916), pages 38 f.;
_Classical Weekly_, X (1916), pages 37 f.

[78] See note 2, page 411.

[79] Columbia.

[80] This is true of the courses in secondary schools and graduate
courses in universities also; but in the secondary and graduate
schools the proportion of translation courses to the others is
smaller.

[81] For example, at Harvard one course includes Plato, Lysias, Lyric
Poetry, and Euripides, with lectures on the history of Greek
literature; another Livy, Terence, Horace and other Latin Poets.

[82] See above, page 407 f.

[83] For a fuller list of institutions where classical courses not
requiring a knowledge of the ancient languages are given see above,
page 407.

[84] "Die höchste Aufgabe bei der Lektüre des griechischen Dramas sei
das Stück Leben, das uns der Dichter vor Augen führt, in seinem vollen
Inhalt miterleben zu lassen." C. Wunderer, in _Blätter für das
Gymnasial-Schulwesen_, Vol. LII (1916), 1.



XXI

THE TEACHING OF THE ROMANCE LANGUAGES


=The college course must emphasize power, not facts=

IT is well at times to emphasize old truths, mainly because they are
old and are consecrated by experience. One of these, frequently
combated nowadays, is that any college course--worthy of the name--has
other than utilitarian ends. I therefore declare my belief that the
student does not go to college primarily to acquire facts. These he
can learn from books or from private instruction. _Me judice_--he goes
to college primarily to learn _how to interpret_ facts, and to arrive
through this experience at their practical as well as their theoretic
value: as respects himself, as respects others, and in an ever
widening circle as regards humanity in general. The first object,
thus, of a college course is to humanize the individual, to emancipate
him intellectually and emotionally from his prejudices and conventions
by giving him a wider horizon, a sounder judgment, a firmer and yet a
more tolerant point of view. "Our proclivity to details," said
Emerson, "cannot quite degrade our life and divest it of poetry." The
college seizes upon the liberating instinct of youth and utilizes it
for all it is worth. We summarize by saying that the college prepares
not merely for "life" but for "living"; so that the society whom the
individual serves will be served by him loyally, intelligently, and
broad-mindedly, with an increasing understanding of its aims and
purposes.

=The college can attain its aim only when the student brings necessary
facts from secondary schools=

This, let us assume, is the somewhat lofty ideal. What about its
concrete realization? Especially when the subject is a language,
which, considering that it consists of parts of speech, inflections,
phonetics, etc., is a very practical matter and apparently far removed
from the ideal in question. Every language teacher is familiar with
this stock objection. How often has he not been told that his
business is not to teach French culture or Spanish life, but French
and Spanish? And as everybody knows, French and Spanish are not
learned in a day, nor, indeed, if we judge by the average graduate of
our colleges, in four years of classroom work. It is not my purpose to
combat the contention that college French or Spanish or Italian could
be taught better, and that from a utilitarian point of view the
subject is capable of a great deal of improvement. As Professor
Grandgent has trenchantly said "I do not believe there is or ever was
a language more difficult to acquire than French; most of us can name
worthy persons who have been assiduously struggling with it from
childhood to mature age, and who do not know it now: yet it is treated
as something any one can pick up offhand.... French staggers under the
fearful burden of apparent easiness." I do not think these words
overstate the case. All the more reason, then, to bear in mind that
the burden of this accomplishment should not fall on the college
course alone, or, I should even say, on the college course at all. For
the fact is that a thorough knowledge of the Romance tongues cannot be
acquired in any college course, and to attack the problem from that
angle alone is to attempt the impossible. It is on the school, and not
on the college, that the obligation of the practical language problem
rests. If our students are to become proficient in French--in the
sense that they can not only read it but write and speak it with
passable success--the language must be begun early, in the grade
school (when memory and apperception are still fresh), and then
carried forward systematically over a period of from six to seven
years. But this will require on the part of our schools: (1) a longer
time allotment to the subject than it now generally has, (2) a closer
articulation between the grade-school, high-school, and college
courses, and (3) the appointment of better and higher-paid teachers of
the subject. An encouraging move is being made in many parts of the
country to carry out this plan, though of course we are still a long
way from its realization; and when it is realized we shall not yet
have reached the millennium. But at least we shall have given the
practical teaching of the subject a chance, comparable to the
opportunity it has in Europe; and the complaint against the French and
Spanish teacher--if there still be a chronic complaint--will have
other grounds than the one we so commonly hear at present.

=Limitations of elementary and intermediate courses as college courses=

In the meantime, let us remember that the college has other, and more
pressing, things to do than to attempt to supply the shortcomings of
the school. It is certainly essential that the college should continue
and develop the practical work of the school in various ways, such as
advanced exercises and lectures in the foreign idiom, special
conversation classes, and the like--if only for the simple reason that
a language that is not used soon falls into desuetude and is
forgotten. But assuredly the so-called elementary, intermediate, and
advanced courses in French and Spanish (as given in college) do not
fall under that head. They exist in the college by _tolerance_ rather
than by sound pedagogical theory, and the effort now being made to
force all such courses back into the school by reducing the college
"credits" they give is worthy of undivided support. Not only are they
out of place in the college program, but the burden of numerous and
often large "sections" in these courses has seriously impeded the
college in its proper language work. The college in its true function
is the clarifier of ideas, the correlator of facts, the molder of
personalities; and the student of modern languages should enter
college prepared to study his subject from the college point of view.
Much of the apparent "silliness" of the French class which our more
virile undergraduates object to would be obviated if a larger
percentage of them could at once enter upon the more advanced phases
of the subject. It is, then, to their interest, to the interest of the
subject, and to the advantage of the college concerned, that this
reform be brought about.

=Aim of the teaching of Romance languages in the college=

In any case, the function of a college subject can be stated, as
President Meiklejohn has stated it, in terms of two principles. He
says: "The first is shared by both liberal and technical teaching.
The second applies to liberal education alone. The principles are
these: (1) that activity guided by ideas is on the whole more
successful than the same activity without the control of ideas, and
(2) that in the activities common to all men the guidance of ideas is
quite as essential as in the case of those which different groups of
men carry on in differentiation from one another." As applied to the
Romance languages, this means that while the college must of course
give "technical" instruction in language, the emphasis of that
instruction should be upon the "ideas" which the language expresses,
in itself and in its literature. It is not enough that the college
student should gain fluency in French or Spanish, he must also and
primarily be made conscious of the processes of language, its logical
and æsthetic values, the civilization it expresses, and the thoughts
it has to convey. While it may be said that all thorough language
instruction accomplishes this incidentally, the college makes this
_the_ aim of its teaching. The college should furnish an objective
appraisal of the fundamental elements of the foreign idiom, not merely
a subjective (and often superficial) mastery of details. For the old
statement remains true that--when properly studied--"proverbs, words,
and grammar inflections convey the public sense with more purity and
precision than the wisest individual";[85] and what shall we say when
"literature" is added to this list?

=Status of Romance languages in representative colleges--Early status=

From these preliminary observations let us now turn to the present
status of Romance languages in some of our representative
colleges.[86] One gratifying fact may be noted at once. Whereas a
quarter of a century ago Greek and Latin were still considered the
_sine qua non_ of a liberal education, today French and German, and to
a lesser extent Spanish and Italian, have their legitimate share in
this distinction. Indeed, to judge merely by the number of students,
they would seem to have replaced Latin and Greek. To be sure, several
colleges, as for instance Amherst and Chicago, alarmed by this swing
of the pendulum, have reserved the B.A. degree for the traditional
classical discipline. But in the first case the entire curriculum
includes "two years of Greek or Latin," and in the second the B.A.
students comprise but a very small percentage of the college body; and
while in both cases Latin and Greek are required subjects, Romance is
admitted as an elective, in which--to mention only Amherst--six
consecutive semester courses, covering the main phases of modern
French literature, can be chosen. As noted, the recognition of modern
languages as cultural subjects is relatively recent. As late as 1884 a
commission, appointed by the Modern Language Association, found that
"few colleges have a modern language requirement for admission to the
course in arts; ... of the fifty reported, three require French, two
offer an election between French and German, and two require both
French and German." And of these same colleges, "eighteen require no
foreign language, twenty-nine require either French or German, and
eighteen require both French and German, for graduation in the arts."

Obviously, few (at most seven) of the colleges examined admitted
students prepared to take advanced courses in French; and only
eighteen, or 36 per cent, allowed students to begin French in the
freshman year, over one half of the entire number postponing the
beginners' French until the sophomore, junior, or even senior year. It
is clear, therefore, that as late as 1864, and in spite of such
illustrious examples as that set by Harvard in the appointment of
Ticknor to the Smith professorship in 1816, the Romance languages
could hardly be classed as a recognized college subject. At best, they
were taught on the principles that "it is never too late to learn,"
and although this teaching failed from the "practical" point of view,
it yet had little or no opportunity to concern itself with the
cultural aspects of the subject. No wonder the commission
reported[87] that in the circumstances "a mastery of language, as well
as a comprehensive study of the literature, is impossible." With the
part played by our Greek and Latin colleagues in keeping the modern
languages out of the curriculum we need not deal in detail here. It is
enough, in order to explain their attitude, to observe that previous
to 1884 the teaching of modern languages was generally poor: it was
intrusted for the most part to foreigners, who, being usually ignorant
of the finer shades of English and woefully ignorant of American
students, could not have been expected to succeed, or to native
Americans, who for various and often excellent reasons lacked the
proper training, and therefore succeeded--when in rare cases they did
succeed--in spite of their qualifications rather than because of them.
Add to all this the conviction natural to every classicist, that Latin
and Greek are the keys to all Western civilization and that without
them Romance literatures (not to say "languages") are incomprehensible,
and the situation up to the 90's is amply clear.

=Contemporary status of Romance Languages in college curricula=

Today, then, conditions are changed, and for better or worse the
Romance tongues are on a par with other collegiate subjects. A glance
at the latest statistics is instructive. In 1910, out of 340 colleges
and universities in the United States, 328 taught French; 112 (the
universities) offered more than four years' instruction, 50 offered
four years, 90 three years, 68 two years, and only 8 one year. The
present status can easily be divined: the interest in Spanish has
certainly not waned, while the interest in French has grown by leaps
and bounds. Some curtailment there has been, owing to the adoption of
the "group system" of studies on the part of most of the colleges, and
as the colleges are relieved of more and more of the elementary work
there doubtless will be more. But, in any case, it is safe to say that
French, Spanish, and Italian are now firmly installed as liberal
studies in the curricula of most of our colleges. Now, how do they
fulfill this function? What changes will be necessary in order that
they may fulfill it better? What particular advantages have they to
offer as a college subject? A brief consideration of each of these
points follows.

In general, our colleges require fifteen units of entrance credit and
about twenty collegiate units for the college degree.[88] Of the
entrance units, a maximum of four in French and two in Spanish is
allowed; and of the college units, an average of five, or about one
fourth of the entire college work,[89] must be taken consecutively in
_one_ department of study or in not more than _two_ departments. This
last group of approximately five units thus constitutes, so to speak,
the backbone of the student's work. It is his so-called "principal
sequence" (Chicago) or his "two majors" (Amherst) or his "major
subject" (Wisconsin and Colorado); and while in the case of Amherst it
cannot be begun "until after the freshman year," in general it must be
begun by the junior year. Considerable variety prevails, of course, in
carrying out this idea; for example, Johns Hopkins requires "at least
two courses in the major and at least two in some cognate subject."
Harvard states that "every student shall take at least six of his
courses in some one department, or in one of the recognized fields of
distinction." Princeton demands of "every junior and senior ... at
least two 3-hour courses in some one department." But almost all
representative colleges now recognize four general groups of study:
Philosophy (including history), language, science, and mathematics;
and the student's work must be so arranged that while it is fairly
evenly distributed over three of the groups it is at the same time
definitely concentrated in one of them.

=Normal prescription in a Romance Language=

In answer to our first question, it follows that the student entering
with the maximum of French should be able, before graduation, to get
enough advanced courses to give him an intelligent grasp of the
literature as well as the language. In our better-equipped colleges
this is undoubtedly the case. Harvard, for instance, would admit him
to a course (French 2) in French Prose and Poetry, which includes some
"composition," to be followed by (6) a General View of French
Literature, (8) French Literature in the Eighteenth Century, (9)
French Literature in the Seventeenth Century, (16) Comedy of Manners
in France, (17) Literary Criticism in France; and in some of these
courses the linguistic aspects would be considered in the form of
"themes," "reports," etc., while the student could choose (5) Advanced
French Composition for that special purpose. Other colleges (e.g.,
Johns Hopkins, Chicago, Stanford) offer the same or similar
opportunities. So that, although titles of courses are often
deceptive, the general plan of offering (1) an introductory course in
which both the language and the literature are treated, (2) a
survey-course in literature, leading to (3) various courses in
literature after 1600, and supported by (4) at least one specific
course in language, now constitutes the normal collegiate "major" in
French; and, on the whole, it would be difficult in the present
circumstances to devise a better plan.

=Changes in current practice that will enhance effectiveness of teaching
of Romance Languages--Danger of minimizing the language phase=

It is obvious that the success of any plan depends on the thoroughness
with which it is carried out, and this in turn depends on the
qualifications and energy of those who have the matter in hand. That
contingency does not concern us here. But what is worth noting is that
the fourth point mentioned above,--the specific language part of the
"major"--might be strengthened, especially since some excellent
institutions omit this consideration entirely. The danger of falling
between two stools is never greater, it seems, than in treating both
language and literature. An instructor who is bent on elucidating the
range of Anatole France's thought naturally has little time to deal
adequately with his rich vocabulary, his deft use of tense, the subtle
structure of his phrase--and yet who can be said really to "know" such
an author if he be ignorant of either side of his work? "Thought
expands but lames," said Goethe--unless it is constantly controlled by
fact. In order to give the undergraduate that control, it is essential
that he should be placed in the position everywhere to verify his
author's thought. How difficult it is to bring even the best of our
undergraduates to this point I need not discuss. But at least once in
the process of his work he might be held to a stricter account than
elsewhere. And if we ask ourselves by what method this can best be
accomplished, I believe the answer is by some _special_ course in
which the language of several representative writers is treated as
such.[90] The point could be elaborated, particularly in view of the
present-day tendency to dwell unduly on so-called _realia_, French
daily life, and the like--all legitimate enough in their proper time
and place. But enough has been said to show that excellent as the
present plan is, it could without detriment enlarge the place given to
linguistics. In this bewildered age of ours we are forever hearing the
cry of "literature," more "literature": not only our students but our
teachers--and the connection is obvious--find language study dull and
uninspiring, oblivious to the fact that the fault is theirs and not
the subject's. Yet, as we observed above, French is "hard," and its
grammatical structure, apparently so simple, is in truth very
complicated. Manifestly, to understand a foreign literature we must
understand the language in which it is written. How few of our
students really do! Moreover, language and literature are ultimately
only parts of one indivisible entity: Philology--though the fact often
escapes us. "The most effective work," said Gildersleeve,[91] "is done
by those who see all in the one as well as one in the all." And
strange as it appears to the laity, a linguistic fact may convey a
universal lesson. I hesitate to generalize, but I believe most of our
colleges need to emphasize the language side of the French "major"
more.

=Relative positions of French, Spanish, and Italian in a college course=

As for Italian and Spanish, few of the colleges as yet grant these
subjects the importance given to French. For one reason, entrance
credit in Italian is extremely rare, and neither there nor in Spanish,
in which it is now rather common, owing to the teaching of Spanish in
the high schools, does it exceed two units. Some work of an elementary
nature must therefore be done in the college; indeed, at Amherst
neither language can be begun until the sophomore year--though
fortunately this is an isolated case. Further, even when the college
is prepared to teach these subjects adequately, it is still a
debatable question whether they are entitled to precisely the same
consideration as their more venerable sister. It is unnecessary to
point out that such great names as Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio,
Alfieri, Leopardi, Carducci, Cervantes, Calderón, Lope de Vega,
Benavente, _e tutti quanti_, are abundant evidence of the value of
Italian and Spanish culture. They unquestionably are. Where the
emphasis is cultural, it would certainly be unwise to neglect Italian,
since the Renaissance is Italian and underlies modern European culture
in general. On the other hand, Spanish is, so to speak, at our very
doors because of our island possessions: it is the _one_ foreign
language which calls for no argument to make the undergraduate willing
to learn to speak, and Spanish literature, especially in the drama,
has the same romantic freedom as English literature and is thus
readily accessible to the American type of mind. Pedagogically, thus,
the question is far from simple. But while it is impossible to lay
down any fixed precept, it seems worth while to remember: that the
French genius is preëminently the vehicle of definite and clear ideas,
that in a very real sense France has been and is the intellectual
clearinghouse of the world, and that potentially, at least, her
civilization is of the greatest value to our intellectually dull and
undiscriminating youth. From French, better than from Italian and
Spanish, he can learn the discipline of accurate expression, of clear
articulation, and the enlightenment that springs from contact with
"general ideas." Moreover, we must not forget that the undergraduate's
time is limited and that under the "group system" some discrimination
must necessarily be made. Granted, then, that, all things considered,
the first place will doubtless be left to French, the question remains
whether the attention given to Spanish and Italian is at least
adequate. And do the colleges extract from them the values they
should?

As a general proposition, we may take it for granted that the college
should offer at least _four_ units in each of these subjects. For
Spanish, certainly, the tendency will be to make the proportion
larger. But two units devoted to learning the language and two devoted
to the literature may be regarded as essential, and are as a matter of
fact the common practice. Several illustrations will make this clear.
_Johns Hopkins_ offers: in Italian, 1. Grammar, Short Stories, etc.,
2. Grammar, Written Exercises, Selections from classic authors,
Lectures on Italian Literature; in Spanish, 1. Grammar, Oral and
written exercises, Reading from Alarcón, Valdés, etc., 2. Contemporary
Novel and Drama, Oral practice, Grammar and Composition, 3. The
Classic Drama and Cervantes, oral practice, etc., History of Spanish
Literature. _Illinois_: in Italian, 1a-1b Elementary Course, 2a-2b
Italian Literature, nineteenth century; in Spanish, 1a-1b Elementary
Course, 2a-2b Modern Spanish, 3a-3b Introduction to Spanish
Literature, 4a-4b Business Correspondence and Conversation, 5a-5b
Business Practice in Spanish, 11a-11b The Spanish Drama of the
Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, 17a-17b The Spanish Drama of the
Nineteenth Century. _Harvard_: in Italian, 1. Italian Grammar, reading
and composition, 4. General View of Italian Literature, 5. Modern
Italian Literature, 2. Italian Literature of the Fifteenth and
Sixteenth Centuries, 10. The Works of Dante; in Spanish, 1. Spanish
Grammar, reading and composition, 7. Spanish Composition, 8. Spanish
Composition and Conversation (advanced course), 4. General View of
Spanish Literature, 5. Spanish Prose and Poetry of the Eighteenth and
Nineteenth Centuries, 2. Spanish Literature of the Sixteenth and
Seventeenth Centuries.[92]

Since Spanish and Italian fall into the department of Romance
languages, in order to make up his "major" the student is at present
compelled to combine them with French. On the whole, this arrangement
appears to me wise. To be sure, the deans of our colleges of commerce
and administration will say that, granting the greater cultural value
of French, the business interests of the country will force us
nevertheless to give Spanish the same place in the curriculum as
French. And the more radical educators will affirm with Mr.
Flexner:[93] "Languages have no value in themselves; they exist solely
for the purpose of communicating ideas and abbreviating our thought
and action processes. If studied, they are valuable only in so far as
they are practically mastered--not otherwise." I have taken a stand
against this matter-of-fact conception of education throughout this
chapter. I may now return to the charge by adding that the banality of
our college students' thinking stares us in the face; if we wish to
quicken it, to refine it, we should have them study other media of
expression _qua_ expression besides their own (that is what Europe did
in the Renaissance, and the example of the Renaissance is still
pertinent); that if Mr. Flexner's reasoning were valid the French
might without detriment convey their "ideas" in Volapük or Ido (I
suggest that Mr. Flexner subject Anatole France to this test); and
that instead of being valueless in themselves, on the contrary,
languages are the repositories of the ages: "We infer," said Emerson,
"the spirit of the nation in great measure from the language, which is
a sort of monument in which each forcible individual in the course of
many hundred years has contributed a stone." In other words, however
great the claim of Spanish as "a practical subject" may be and
whatever concessions our schools and colleges may make to this fact, I
still believe that Spanish should be subordinated as a college subject
to the study of French. In principle we may admit the Spanish "major,"
as in fact we do at present with the Italian "major"; but some
knowledge of French on the part of the student should be presupposed,
or if not, it should be a required part of the Spanish sequence. This
may seem extreme, but in reality few students would wish to proceed
far in Spanish without some French, and, practically, the knowledge of
one Romance tongue is always a great aid in the study of another.

=Training teachers of Romance Languages=

Thus we see that, with the addition here and there of an extra course
(where the college is not up to the standard as we have outlined it),
and an added stress on the advanced linguistics, the present
curriculum in Romance apparently provides an excellent working basis.
If properly carried out--and the success of all teaching depends of
course ultimately on the teacher--it ought to fulfill all legitimate
needs, so far as the strictly collegiate aims are concerned.

A word is now in order as to its fitness for those students who are
planning to take Romance as a profession. Normally these students
would coincide with those who are taking up "special honors" in
Romance languages; and for the latter group most of our colleges now
make special provision--in the form of "independent work done outside
the regular courses in the major subject and at least one other
department during the junior and senior year (Wisconsin)," or as
Amherst states it, "special work involving collateral reading or
investigation under special conditions." In general, this gives the
candidate certain professional options among the courses listed (in
cases where the college is part of the university) as "primarily for
graduates." In this way the student is able to add to his "major" such
subjects as Old French (Chicago), Introduction to Romance Philology
(Columbia), Practical Phonetics (Chicago), a Teachers' Course
(Wisconsin), etc. Personally I am of the opinion that the day has
passed when any of our graduates who has not at least a Master's
degree in Romance should be recommended to a teaching position. But
evidently any such hard and fast rule is bound to be unfair,
especially since a large percentage of our students is compelled to
earn a living immediately upon graduation. Thus here again--as in the
elementary courses as now given in the colleges--we are confronted
with a makeshift which only time and continued effort can correct. In
the meantime the value of such professional courses depends to a very
marked degree upon the success with which they can be carried out
where they are counted toward a higher degree (M.A. or Ph.D.) the
difficulty is not so great, since their introductory nature is
self-evident; but where they conclude, so to speak, the student's
formal training the difficulty of making them "fit in" is often sadly
apparent. At any rate, in this borderland between cultural and
professional studies, where the college is merging with the university
or professional school, the necessity for the able teacher is a
paramount issue. If the transition is to be successful, the obligation
rests upon the teacher so to develop his subject that the
specializing will not drown out the general interest but will inform
it with those values which only the specialist can impart.

=Final contributions of Romance Languages to the American college student=

And now as to our final consideration: What particular advantages have
the Romance tongues to offer as a college subject? An obvious
advantage is: an understanding of foreign peoples. The Romance
languages are modern. They are spoken today over a large part of the
habitable globe. We stand in direct relations with those who speak
them and write them. Above all, a large share of the world's best
thought is being expressed in them. The point requires no arguing,
that translations cannot take the place of originals: _traduttore
traditore_, says an excellent Italian proverb. If we are really to
know what other nations think,--whether we accept or reject their
thought makes little or no difference here,--we can do so only by
knowing their language. And the better we know it, the greater our
insight will be. To speak at least _one_ foreign language is not only
a parlor accomplishment: it is for whoever is to be a citizen-of-the-world
a necessity. There is a Turkish proverb that he who knows two
languages, his own and another, has two souls. Certainly there is no
better way to approach a nation's soul than through its language. But,
in the second place, the Romance tongues have certain artistic
qualities which English in a great measure lacks. The student who has
intelligently mastered one of them has a better sense of form, of
delicate shades of expression, and--if the language be French--of
clarity of phrase: what Pater termed _netteté d'expression_. He learns
to respect language (as few Americans now do), to study its
possibilities in a way which a mere knowledge of English might never
have suggested, and to appreciate its moral as well as its social
power: for French forces him to curb his thought, to weigh his
contention, to be simple and clear in the most abstruse matters. In a
famous essay on the Universality of French, Rivarol said: "Une
traduction française est toujours une _explication_."

And lastly, in themselves and in the civilizations they stand for,
the Romance tongues are the bridge between ourselves and antiquity.
Since the decline in the study of Greek and Latin, this is a factor to
be seriously considered. It is the fashion today to berate the past,
to speak of the dead hand of tradition, and to flatter ourselves with
the delusion of self-sufficiency. To be sure, the aim of education is
never to pile up information but to "fit your mind for any sort of
exertion, to make it keen and flexible." But the best way to encompass
this is to feed the mind on ideas, and ideas are not produced every
day, nor for that matter every year, and luckily all ideas have not
the same value. There are the ideas of Taine, of Rousseau, of
Voltaire, of Descartes, of Montaigne, of Ficino, of Petrarch, of
Dante, of Cicero, of Aristotle, of Plato; and in a moment I have run
the gamut of all the centuries of our Western civilization. Who will
tell me which ideas we shall need most tomorrow? Evidently, we cannot
know them all. But we can at least make the attempt to know the best.
And incidentally let it be said that he who professes the Romance
tongues can no more dispense with the Classics than the Classics can
today afford to dispense with Romance: French, Italian, and Spanish
are the Latin--and one might add the Greek--of today. But to return to
our theme: to deny our interest in the past is to throw away our
heritage, to sell our mess of pottage to the lowest bidder. If the
Romance languages have one function in our American colleges, it is
this: To keep alive the old humanistic lesson: _nihil humani a me
alienum puto_; to the end that the modern college graduate may
continue to say with Montaigne: "All moral philosophy is applied as
well to a private life as to one of the greatest employment. Every man
carries the entire form of the human condition. Authors have thitherto
communicated themselves to the people by some particular and foreign
mark; I ... by my _universal_ being, not as a grammarian, a poet, or a
lawyer." The college course in the Romance languages should prepare
for a profession, but it must first help to prepare thinking men and
women.

                                               WILLIAM A. NITZE
  _University of Chicago_


Footnotes:

[85] The quotation is from Emerson, _Nominalist and Realist_.

[86] I make no attempt in this article, written before 1917, to treat
actual teaching conditions: the premises are too uncertain.

[87] The above statistics are from C. H. Handschin, _The Teaching of
Modern Languages in the United States_, Washington, 1913, pages 40ff.

[88] I cite the following figures: (_a_) Entrance: Harvard 16-1/2,
Amherst 14, Wisconsin 14, Columbia 14-1/2, Colorado 15, Illinois 15,
Chicago 15; (_b_) Collegiate Degree: Harvard 17-1/2 "courses," Amherst
20 "courses," Wisconsin 120 "credits," Columbia 124 "points," Colorado
120 "hours of scholastic work," Chicago 36 "trimester majors." It is
certainly desirable that our colleges adopt some uniform system for
the notation of their courses. Johns Hopkins, at least, is specific in
explaining the relationship of its "125 points" to its "courses"; see
page 262 of the _University Register_, 1916.

[89] At Chicago exactly 1/4 or "at least 9 coherent and progressive
majors" must be taken in "one department or in a group of
departments." But Chicago also requires a secondary sequence of at
least 6 majors; Columbia requires three years of "sequential study--in
each of two departments." Illinois, "a major subject (20 hours)" and
"an allied minor subject (20 hours)."

[90] An excellent manner of procedure is that outlined by Professor
Terracher in his interesting article in the _Compte rendu du Congrès
de Langue et de Littérature Française_, New York (Fédération de
l'Alliance Française), 1913.

[91] From _Johns Hopkins University Circular_, No. 151.

[92] It will be noted that throughout the amount offered in Spanish
exceeds that in Italian. This is to be expected in view of the boom in
Spanish studies. Moreover, most colleges now allow two units of
entrance credit in Spanish, and 7 and 8 above, under Harvard, are half
courses. Columbia is, I believe, the only college accepting 2 units of
entrance credit in Italian; but I have not examined the catalogues of
all our colleges.

[93] Publications of the General Education Board, 3, 1916, page 13.



XXII

THE TEACHING OF GERMAN


=Our aim=

The mechanical achievements of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries
have obliterated geographical distances. The contact between nations,
intermittent in former ages, has become a continuous one. It is no
longer possible to ignore great cultural forces in foreign nations
even temporarily--we may repudiate or appreciate them, as we see fit,
but we should do so in a spirit of fairness and understanding, and not
in ignorance.

This, however, is not possible unless those who are to become leaders
of the people are intimately familiar with those treasure chests of
the nations that contain the true gems of racial spirit more
abundantly than even art or literature, history, law or religion,
stored up in the course of hundreds and thousands of years--the
nations' languages. It is the clear duty of the college to instill,
through the right way of teaching foreign languages, a cosmopolitan
spirit of this character into the growing minds of our young men and
women, after the secondary school has given them the first rudiments
of knowledge and cultural training.

According to one's point of view, there is as much to be said in favor
of the classical as the modern languages. Without doubt, their growing
neglect in our institutions of learning is deeply to be regretted;
however, its causes do not concern us here directly. The study of
modern languages is, relatively speaking, so manifestly in the
ascendency, that a return to the emphasis that was formerly laid upon
Latin and Greek is hardly imaginable. The choice between several
modern languages must very largely be determined by personal
preferences and purposes. So much, however, can safely be said, that
an intelligent reading knowledge of German and French is the least
that should be expected of a college graduate. For, while in theory
the humanistic importance of modern language study is the same for all
languages, it rises, in practice, proportionately with the cultural
level of the foreign nation--German and French obviously taking the
lead in this regard.

=Place of German in the college curriculum=

I am optimistic enough to assume it to be generally granted that the
study of a foreign language ought to be started early in life--say, at
the age of twelve. While hardly challenged in theory, this desirable
condition is far from being carried out in practice. Probably the time
will never come when colleges will be able to dispense with elementary
courses in modern foreign languages--not only for those who enter
without any linguistic preparation, but also, and perhaps
preëminently, for students who are taking up a second foreign language
in addition to the one (or two) started in the preparatory school.
Thus, the starting point of the modern language course in college is
easily fixed: it must begin at the very rudiments of the language. Nor
is it difficult to state, in general terms, the purpose of the most
advanced work of the undergraduate curriculum: it must consist in
adequate linguistic skill, literary knowledge and feeling, and
cultural understanding to such an extent that the college graduate who
has specialized in German may safely be intrusted with the teaching of
German in secondary schools. At least, this holds good for the
majority of institutions; a small number of colleges devote their
whole effort to cultural training, and some of the larger
institutions, particularly in the East, find it possible to postpone
most of the professional preparation to a period of graduate work. But
on the whole the average well-equipped college includes the training
of teachers as one end of its foreign-language work. Ordinarily, such
mastery of the subject as would prepare for teaching cannot be gained
within the four years' college course. Rather, it might be said to
require the average equivalent of something like six college years,
with the understanding that not much more than one fourth of the
student's time be devoted to German. This implies that only under
uncommonly favorable conditions should students be encouraged to
specialize in a foreign language that they begin on entering college.

=Organization of the German course=

Thus, the peculiar conditions of modern language instruction bring it
about that a discussion of its organization in college must deal with
a six years' course: elementary instruction must be offered to those
entering without any knowledge of German; courses of a sufficiently
advanced character must be provided for those who enter with three or
four years of high-school German; and there must be advanced work for
students who intend to make the study and teaching of German their
life's work.

In this six years' college course three divisions are clearly
distinguishable: an elementary division devoted to such linguistic
training as will enable a student to read with fair ease texts of
moderate difficulty; an intermediate group during which literary and
cultural appreciation should be developed, and an advanced group
intended for the professional preparation of prospective teachers of
German. These three divisions may be approximately equal, so that each
of them covers about two years, with four or five hours a week. For
graduation, all students should be required to present the equivalent
of the first period for two languages (either classical or modern),
one or both of which might with advantage be absolved in high school.
The second division should be required of all students for at least
one foreign language. Colleges of high standing may find it possible
to exceed these requirements; no college should remain below them.

The first or elementary division should, at least for one foreign
language, be finished before the student is admitted to the college.
All that can reasonably be expected from this part of the work is a
study of the elements of grammar, the development of a good
pronunciation, a fair working vocabulary, and some ability to read,
speak, understand, and write German.

The second group should include, in the main, reading courses to
introduce the student to what is best in German literature, but no
general theoretical study of the history of literature need be
contemplated. Besides, it must offer such work in speaking and writing
as will develop and establish more firmly the results gained in the
first two years, and an appropriate study of German history and
institutions. Each of the three aims might be given about one third of
the time available, but they may overlap to some extent. Thus, writing
and speaking can be connected with each of them, and historical
readings and reports may furnish a part of language practice.

The third group, intended for the training of teachers, must contain a
course in the method of modern language teaching (connected with
observation and practice), an advanced grammar course, and courses in
the phonetics and historical development of the German language. These
courses are indispensable for teachers, but will also be of advantage
to students not intending to teach.

=The elementary group=

The first group is frankly of high school character. It is best to
admit this fully and freely, and to teach these courses accordingly.
Through greater intensity of study (more home work and longer class
periods), the work of three or even four high school years may be
concentrated into two college years, but the method cannot differ
essentially. The way of learning a new language is the same, in
principle, for a child of twelve years and a man of fifty years; in
the latter case, there is merely the difficulty to be overcome that
older persons are less easily inclined to submit to that drill which
is necessary for the establishment of those new habits that constitute
_Sprachgefühl_. It is a fallacy that the maturer mind of the college
student requires a more synthetic-deductive study of the language than
that of the high school student.

It is sad but true that many college teachers are more reactionary in
questions of method than the better class of high school teachers. The
claim that elementary work in college requires a method different from
that used in the high school is one symptom of this, and another
symptom of the same tendency is the motto of so many college teachers
that there is no "best method," and that a good teacher will secure
good results with any method. At the bottom of such phrases there is
usually not much more than indifference and unwillingness to look for
information on the real character of the method at which they are
generally aimed: the _direct method_. The regrettable superficiality
appearing in the frequent confusion of the "direct" with the "natural"
method is characteristic of this. I am, of course, willing to admit
that what nowadays is termed the "direct method" is not the best way
possible, but that it may and will be improved upon. However, it is
not one of many methods that, according to circumstances, might be
equally good, but it represents the application of the present results
of psychological and linguistic research to the teaching of languages
and distinctly deserves the preference over older ways.

The first demand of the direct method is the development not only of a
fair but of a perfect pronunciation--not so much as the independent
aim, but as an indispensable condition for the development of
_Sprachgefühl_. It is immeasurably easier to obtain good pronunciation
from the start than to improve bad pronunciation by later efforts. In
the teaching of pronunciation a slight difference in the treatment of
children of twelve years and of college students might be granted:
young children are generally able to learn the sounds of a foreign
language by imitation; students of college age can hardly ever do this
well, and careful phonetic instruction is absolutely necessary with
them. Whoever wishes to keep aloof from phonetic _terms_ may do so;
but not to know or not to apply phonetic _principles_ is bad teaching
pure and simple. The use of phonetic _transcription_, however, is a
moot question. Its advantages are obvious enough: it insures a clear
consciousness of correct pronunciation; it takes up the difficulties
one by one: first pronunciation, then spelling; it safeguards greater
care in matters of pronunciation in general. The objections are
chiefly two: economy of time, and the fear of confusion between the
two ways of spelling. The writer admits that until a few years ago he
was skeptical as to the value of phonetic transcription in the
teaching of German. But the nearly general recognition of its value by
the foremost educators of European countries and the good results
achieved with it by teachers of French in this country caused him to
give it a trial, under conditions that afforded not more than an
average chance of success. The result was greatly beyond his
expectations. Neither he nor, as far as he knows, any of his
colleagues would contemplate abandoning phonetic script again. Without
wishing to be dogmatic, I believe that this at least can be asserted
with safety: on purely theoretical grounds, no teacher has a right to
condemn phonetic transcription; those who doubt its value should try
it before they judge.

In the writer's opinion it is best not to use any historical spelling
at all during the first six or eight weeks of college German. If the
confusing features of traditional orthography are eliminated during
this period, it will be found that there results not a loss, but an
actual _gain in time_ from the use of phonetic script. Nor does the
transition to common spelling cause any confusion. The less ado made
about it, the better. It is a fact of experience, that students who
have been trained in the use of phonetic script turn out to be better
spellers than those who have not--simply because this training has
made them more careful and has given them a clearer conception of the
discrepancy between sound and letter.

That elementary grammar should be taught inductively is true to an
extent, but often overstated. It is true for the more abstract
principles, such as the formation of the compound tenses, the
formation and the use of the passive voice, and so on. But attempts at
inductive teaching of concrete elements of mechanical memory, such as
the gender and plural of nouns, or the principal parts of strong
verbs, are a misunderstanding of the principles of induction. It goes
without saying that thorough drill is much more valuable than the most
explicit explanation. It holds good for college as well as for high
schools that there is but very little to "explain" about the grammar
of any language. Unnecessary explanations rather increase than remove
difficulties.

=The use of English=

The use of English is another debated question. As far as the teaching
of grammar is concerned, it is unessential. If inductive drill takes
the place of explanations and abstract rules, the question is very
largely eliminated from practical consideration. In those very rare
cases when theoretical discussions might seem desirable, it does not
make much difference whether a few minutes a week are devoted to
English or not. The question assumes greater importance when the
development of the vocabulary is considered. In this, there are three
fairly well-defined elements to be distinguished. The first
vocabulary, say, of the first two or three months should be developed
by concrete associations with objects and actions in the classroom;
the use of the vernacular has no justification whatever during that
time--not on account of any objection to an occasional English word or
phrase, but simply because there is no need of it, and every minute
devoted to German is a clear gain. After this, the vocabulary should
be further developed through the thorough practice of connected texts.
If they are well constructed, the context will explain a considerable
portion of the words occurring; those that are not made clear through
the context form the third division of the vocabulary and can without
hesitation be explained by English equivalents. In general, the
principle will go rather far that the use of an occasional English
_word_ is entirely harmless, but that English _sentences_ should as
much as possible be avoided in elementary work. Connected translation,
both from and into English, must absolutely be excluded from the first
year's work, for the chief purpose of this year is not only the study
of grammar and the development of an elementary vocabulary, but, even
more than that, the cultivation of the right _attitude_ toward
language study. Reading should be our chief aim, and speaking a means
to that end, but the student must be trained, from the very beginning,
to understand what he is reading rather through an intelligent grasp
of the contents than by fingering the dictionary. In this way he will
become accustomed to associating the German sentences _directly_ with
the thought expressed in them, instead of _indirectly_ through the
medium of his native tongue.

A great deal of misunderstanding is frequently involved in the
emphasis laid upon speaking. There can hardly be a more absurd
misinterpretation of the principles of the direct method than for
college teachers to try to "converse" with the students in German--to
have with them German chats about the weather, the games, the
political situation. This procedure is splendidly fit to develop in
the students a habit of guessing at random at what they hear and
read--a slovenly contentedness with an approximate understanding. Both
teacher and students should speak and hear German practically all the
time. But this should be distinctly in the service of reading and
grammar work, containing almost exclusively words and forms that the
student must _know_, not guess at.

At the end of the first year a college student ought to have mastered
the elements of grammar and possess good pronunciation and an active
vocabulary of about six hundred or eight hundred words. If the second
year is devoted to further drill on grammatical elements and to
careful reading, its result ought to be the ability to read authors of
average difficulty at a fair speed. During the first year all reading
material should be practiced so intensively that an average of a
little more than a page a week is not exceeded materially; but toward
the end of the second year a limit of six or eight pages an hour may
well be reached. By this time, translation into good English begins to
be a valuable factor in the achievement of conscious accuracy; but it
must under no circumstances be resorted to until the students have
clearly obtained the habitual attitude of direct association between
thought and sentence.

It is little short of a misfortune that there exists no adequate
German-German dictionary (such as La Rousse's French dictionary). It
would not be very difficult to write such a book, but until we
possess it the irritating use of German-English dictionaries and
vocabularies will be a necessary evil.

The hardest problem of the second year--and this is progressively true
of more advanced work--is the uneven preparation of the students. In
large colleges it will often be feasible to have as many sections as
possible at the same hour, distributing the students in accordance
with their preparation. Where this is not possible, special help for
poorly prepared students is generally indispensable.

=The literature group=

The literature group is as distinctly of college character as the
elementary group is admittedly high school work. It is here, in fact,
that the best ideals of the American college find the fullest
opportunity. This is true both for the teacher and for the student. In
the elementary group, pedagogical skill and a fair mastery of the
language are the chief prerequisites of a successful teacher. In the
second group, other qualities are of greater importance. While a
certain degree of pedagogical skill is just as necessary here as
there, it is now no longer a question of the systematic development of
habits, but of the ability to create sympathetic understanding,
idealism, depth of knowledge, and literary taste--in short, to strive
for humanistic education in the fullest sense of the word. This is
true not only for colleges with a professedly humanistic tendency; the
broadening and deepening influence of foreign language study is
nowhere needed more urgently than in technical and other professional
colleges.

Speaking and writing must no longer stand in the center of instruction
in the courses of the second group, but their importance should not be
underrated, as is done so frequently (it is a fact that students often
know less German at the end of the third year in college than at the
end of the second year). At least during the first year of this group,
a practice course in advanced grammar, connected with composition, is
absolutely necessary. The grammatical work should consist in review
and observation, supported by the study of a larger reference grammar
(e.g., chapters from Curme's grammar, to introduce the students to
the consistent use of this marvelous work). In composition, free
reproduction should still be the main thing, but independent themes
and translation from English into German--which would be distinctly
harmful in elementary work--are now valuable exercises in the study of
German style. It would be wholly wrong, however, to make linguistic
drill the Alpha and Omega of this part of the college course. The
preparatory years should have laid a sound basis, which during the
college work proper should not be allowed to disintegrate, but the
fact should not be lost sight of that the cultural aim must be
stressed most in the second group.

To reach this aim, a familiarity with the best works of German
literature is the foremost means. German literature affords a scant
choice of good and easy reading for the elementary stage: Storm,
Ebner-Eschenbach, Seidel, and Wildenbruch are justly favorites, but
absurdities like Baumbach's _Schwiegersohn_ are, unfortunately, still
found in the curriculum of many colleges. In contrast with the small
number of good elementary texts, there exists an abundance of
excellent material for the second group. Aside from the classical
poets, the novelists Keller, Meyer, Fontane, Raabe; the dramatists
Hebbel, Grillparzer, Kleist, Hauptmann; poems collected in the
_Balladenbuch_ or the _Ernte_ present an inexhaustible wealth, without
our having to resort to the literary rubbish of Benedix or Moser or
the sneering pretentiousness of Heine's _Harzreise_.

The details of organization will vary greatly for this group,
according to special conditions. But in general it may be said that
during the first year of this period about two hours a week should be
devoted to the continuation of systematic language practice as
outlined above, and three hours to the reading of German authors for
literary purposes. Nor should this consist in "reading" alone. Reading
as such should no longer present any difficulty, if the work of the
elementary group has been done well. Special courses should be devoted
to the study of the modern German novel, the drama, and the lyrics,
and to individual authors like those mentioned. In these detached
literature courses the principal endeavor must be to help the students
to understand and feel, not so much the linguistic side of the texts
read, as the soul of the author, and through him the soul of the
German nation. Reading must become more and more independent, the
major part of the time in class being devoted to the cultural and
æsthetic interpretation of what has been read at home. It is evident
that in this, the most important part of the German college work, all
depends upon the personality of the instructor: literary and human
understanding cannot be instilled into the student's mind by one who
does not possess them himself, together with a love for teaching and
the power to create enthusiasm.

All other requirements must be subordinate to this--even the
instructor's mastery of the language. No doubt, in theory it would be
most desirable that German be the exclusive language of instruction
throughout; but in literary courses practical considerations will so
often speak against this, that no sweeping answer to this question
seems possible. For the chief aim must not be overshadowed by any
other. If poor preparation on the part of the students or a deficient
command of the language on the part of the instructor makes it
doubtful whether the cultural aim can be attained, if German is the
language of instruction, English should be used unhesitatingly. This
implies that for this part of the work an instructor with a strong
personality and an artistic understanding, although lacking in
speaking knowledge, is far preferable to one who speaks German
fluently but cannot introduce his students to the greatness of German
literature and the spirit of the German people.

On the other hand, written reports in literary courses should always
be required to be in German; it is also a good plan to devote a few
minutes of each period to prepared oral reports, in German, on the
part of the individual students. Where systematic practice in the
colloquial use of the language is desirable for special reasons, a
conversation course may be established in addition to the main work,
but literary courses are not the place for starting conversational
practice with classes that have been neglected in this respect during
their preparatory work.

The second year of the literary group should offer a choice between
two directions of further literary development: about three hours of
each week should be devoted either to a course on the general history
of German literature, or to the intensive study of one of the greatest
factors in German literature--such as Goethe's _Faust_. In large
institutions both courses can probably be given side by side, the
students taking their choice according to their preference, but in
most colleges an alternation of two courses of this kind will be
preferable.

The method of instruction is determined by the students' preparation
and the teacher's personality, in literature courses more than
anything else. Obviously, lectures (in German, where circumstances
permit), extensive, systematic reading, written reports, and class
discussion are the dominating features of such courses.

Some knowledge of German history and institutions is an indispensable
adjunct of any serious work in German literature. Probably in all
colleges such instruction will be incumbent upon the German
departments, and it is rarely possible to combine it with the course
on the general history of German literature. Therefore, a special
course in German history and institutions should be offered during the
second year of the literature group.

=The professional group=

The work of this group may overlap that of the second group to a
considerable extent, in the sense that courses in both groups may be
taken at the same time. The professional preparation of a teacher of
German should include: a thorough knowledge of the structure of the
German language, an appreciative familiarity with German literature,
and a fair amount of specialized pedagogical training. The study of
literature cannot be different for prospective teachers from that for
all other types of college students, and, therefore, belongs to the
second group. But their knowledge of language structure, though not
necessarily of a specialistic philological character, must include a
more detailed knowledge of German grammar, a familiarity with
technical German phonetics, and at least an elementary insight into
the historical development of the language. In addition to suitable
courses in these three subjects, a pedagogical course, dealing with
the methods of modern language teaching, and connected with
observation and practice teaching, must be provided for. Where the
previous training has been neglected, a course in German conversation
may be added; but, generally speaking, this should no longer be
necessary with students in their fifth or sixth year of German
instruction. Wherever this need exists, the system of instruction is
at fault.

=Conclusion=

Incomplete though this brief outline must necessarily be, the writer
has attempted to touch upon the most important phases of the students'
development of linguistic, cultural, and, where demanded, professional
command of German. Little has so far been said concerning the college
teacher. The strong emphasis placed upon the direct method in this
article should not be misinterpreted as meaning that a fluent command
of the spoken language is a _conditio sine qua non_. Nothing could be
farther from the truth. First of all, the necessity of the exclusive
use of the direct method exists obviously only in the elementary
group. In this group, however, "conversation" in the generally
accepted sense of the word should not be attempted--it will do more
harm than good. The constant practice in speaking and hearing should
be so rigidly subservient to the interpretation and practice of the
texts being read and to grammatical drill, that only a minimum of
"speaking knowledge" on the part of the teacher is unavoidably
necessary; his pronunciation, of course, must be perfect. However
desirable it may be that a teacher should know intimately well the
language he is teaching in college, there are other requirements even
higher than this; they are, in the first group, energy, thoroughness,
and pedagogical skill, coupled with an intelligent understanding of
the basic principles of the direct method; in the second group,
literary appreciation and a sympathetic understanding of German
thought, history, and civilization; and, for the third group,
elementary philological training, theoretical as well as practical
acquaintance with the needs of the classroom, and a long and varied
experience in teaching. Rarely will all three qualifications be
combined in one person, nor are such fortunate combinations necessary
in most colleges. A wise distribution of courses among the members of
the department can in most cases be effected in such a way that each
teacher's talents are utilized in their proper places.

                                                    E. PROKOSCH



  PART FIVE

  THE ARTS

  CHAPTER

 XXIII THE TEACHING OF MUSIC
           _Edward Dickinson_

 XXIV  THE TEACHING OF ART
           _Holmes Smith_



XXIII

THE TEACHING OF MUSIC


=Music a comparatively recent addition to the college curriculum=

There is perhaps no more direct way of throwing a sort of flashlight
upon the musical activity in the colleges of America than the
statement that a volume of this kind, if prepared a dozen years ago,
would either have contained no chapter upon music, or, if music were
given a place at all, the argument would have been occupied with hopes
rather than achievements. Not that it would be literally true to say
that music was wholly a negligible quantity in the homes of higher
education until the twentieth century, but the seat assigned to it in
the few institutions where it was found was an obscure and lowly one,
and the influence radiating therefrom reached so small a fragment of
the academic community that no one who was not engaged in a careful,
sympathizing search could have been aware of its existence. It was
less than twenty years ago that a prominent musical journal printed
the very moderate statement that "the youth who is graduated at Yale,
Harvard, Johns Hopkins, Brown, Dartmouth, Bowdoin, Amherst, Cornell,
or Columbia has not even a smattering of music beyond the music of the
college glee and mandolin club; and of course to cultivate that is the
easiest road to musical perdition." One who looks at those
institutions now, and attempts to measure the power and reach of their
departments of music, will not deny the right to the satisfaction
which their directors--men of national influence--must feel, and would
almost expect them to echo the words of ancient Simeon. The contrast
is indeed extraordinary, and, I believe, unparalleled. The work of
these men, and of others who could be named with them, has not been
merely development, but might even be called creation. Any one who
attempts to keep track of the growth of musical education in our
colleges, universities, and also in the secondary schools of the
present day, will find that the bare statistics of this increase, to
say nothing of a study of the problems involved, will engage much more
than his hours of leisure. Music, which not long ago held tolerance
only as an outside interest, confined to the sphere of influence of
the glee club and the chapel choir, is now, in hundreds of educational
institutions, accorded the privileges due to those arts and sciences
whose function in historic civilization, and potency in scholarly
discipline and liberal culture, give them domicile by obvious and
inalienable right.

=History of the subject of music in the American college curriculum=

The first university professorships in music were founded at Harvard
in 1876, and at the University of Pennsylvania at about the same time.
Vassar College established musical courses in 1867, Oberlin in 1869.
Harvard took the lead in granting credit for certain courses in music
toward the degree of A.B. in 1870.[94] Progress thereafter for many
years was slow; but in 1907 investigation showed that "approximately
one half the colleges in the country recognize the value of instruction
in music sufficiently to grant credit in this subject."[95] Since this
date college after college and university after university have fallen
into line, only a few resisting the current that sets toward the
universal acceptance of music as a legitimate and necessary element in
higher education. The problem with the musical educators of the
country is no longer how to crowd their subject into the college
preserve, but how to organize its forces there, how to develop its
methods on a basis of scholarly efficiency, how to harmonize its
courses with the ideals of the old established departments, and now,
last of all, how to bring the universities and colleges into
coöperation with the rapid extension of musical practice, education,
and taste which has, in recent days, become a conspicuous factor in
our national progress.

=Changing social ideals responsible for the new attitude toward the
study of music in colleges=

An investigation into the causes of this great change would be fully
as interesting as a critical examination of its results. The limits of
this chapter require that consideration be given to the present and
future of this movement rather than to its past; but it is especially
instructive, I think, to those who are called upon to deal practically
with it, to observe that the welcome now accorded to music in our
higher institutions of learning is due to changes in both the college
and its environment. In view of the constitution and relationships of
our higher schools (unlike those of the universities of Europe), any
alteration in the ideals, the practical activities, and the living
conditions of the people of the democracy will sooner or later affect
those institutions whose aim is fundamentally to equip young men and
women for social leadership. It is unnecessary to remind the readers
of such a book as this of the marked enlargement of the interests of
the intelligent people of America in recent years, or of the prominent
place which æsthetic considerations hold among these interests. The
ancient thinker, to whom nothing of human concern was alien, would
find the type he represented enormously increased in these latter
days. The passion for the release of all the latent energies and the
acquisition of every material good, which characterizes the American
people to a degree hitherto unknown in the world since the outburst of
the Renaissance, issues, as in the Renaissance, in an enormous
multiplication of the machinery by which the enjoyment of life and its
outward embellishment are promoted. But more than this and far
better--the eager pursuit of the means for enhancing physical and
mental gratification has coincided with a growing desire for the
general welfare;--hence the æsthetic movement of recent years, and the
zeal for social betterment which excludes no section or class or
occupation, tend to unite, and at the same time to work inward and
develop a type of character which seeks joy not only in beauty but
also in the desire to give beauty a home in the low as well as in the
high places. Whatever may be one's view of the final value of the
recent American productions in literature and the fine arts, the
social, democratic tendency in them is unmistakable. The company of
enthusiastic men and women who are preaching the gospel of beauty as a
common human birthright is neither small nor feeble. The fine arts are
emerging from the studios, professional schools, and coteries; they
are no longer conceived as the special prerogative of privileged
classes; not even is the creation of masterpieces as objects of
national pride the pervading motive;--but they are seen to be
potential factors in national education, ministering to the happiness
and mental and moral health of the community at large. It was
impossible that the most enlightened directors of our colleges,
universities, and public schools should not perceive the nature and
possibilities of this movement, hasten to ally themselves with it, and
in many cases assume a leadership in it to which their position and
advantages entitled them.

=The educative function of music=

The commanding claims which the arts of design, music, and the drama
are asserting for an organized share in the higher education is also,
I think, a consequence of the change that has come about in recent
years in the constitution of the curriculum, the methods of
instruction, the personnel of the student body, the multiplication of
their sanctioned activities, and especially in the attitude of the
undergraduates toward the traditional idea of scholarship. The old
college was a place where strict, inherited conceptions of scholarship
and mental discipline were piously maintained. The curriculum rested
for its main support upon a basis of the classics and mathematics,
which imparted a classic and mathematical rigidity to the whole
structure. The professor was an oracle, backed by oracular textbooks;
the student's activity was restricted by a traditional association of
learning with self-restraint and outward severity of life. The
revolutionary change came with the marvelous development of the
natural sciences, compelling radical readjustments of thought both
within and without the college, the quickening of the social life
about the campus, and the sharp division of interest, together with a
multiplication of courses which made the elective system inevitable.
The consequence was, as President Wilson states it, that a
"disintegration was brought about which destroyed the old college with
its fixed disciplines and ordered life, and gave us our present
problem of reorganization and recovery. It centered in the break-up of
the old curriculum and the introduction of the principle that the
student was to select his own studies from a great variety of courses.
But the change could not, in the nature of things, stop with the plan
of study. It held in its heart a tremendous implication;--the
implication of full manhood on the part of the pupil, and all the
untrammeled choice of manhood. The pupil who was mature and
well-informed enough to study what he chose, was also by necessary
implication mature enough to be left free to _do_ what he pleased, to
choose his own associations and ways of life outside the curriculum
without restraint or suggestion; and the varied, absorbing life of our
day sprang up as the natural offspring of the free election of
studies."[96]

=The development of emotions as well as the intellect a vital concern
of the college curriculum=

Into an academic life so constituted, art, music, and the drama must
perforce make their way by virtue of their appeal to those instincts,
always latent, which were now set in action. Those agencies by which
the emotional life has always been expressed and stimulated found a
welcome prepared for them in the hearts of college youths, stirred
with new zests and a more lively self-consciousness. But for a time
they met resistance in the supremacy of the exact sciences,
erroneously set in opposition to the forces which move the emotions
and the imagination, and the stern grip, still jealously maintained,
of the old conception of "mental discipline" and the communication of
information as the prime purpose of college teaching. The relaxation
came with the recognition of æsthetic pursuits as "outside interests,"
and organization and endowment soon followed. But a college art museum
logically involves lectures upon art, a theater an authoritative
regulation of the things offered therein, a concert hall and concert
courses instruction in the history and appreciation of music. And so,
with surprising celerity, the colleges began to readjust their schemes
to admit those agencies that act upon the emotion as well as the
understanding, and the problem how to bring æsthetic culture into a
working union with the traditional aims and the larger social
opportunities of the college faced the college educator, and disturbed
his repose with its peremptory insistence upon a practical solution.

=Problems in teaching of music in the college=

Although the question of purpose, method, and adaptation presents
general difficulties of similar character in respect to the college
administration of all the fine arts, music is undoubtedly the most
embarrassing item in the list. In this department of our colleges
there is no common conviction as to methods, no standardized system;
but rather a bewildering disagreement in regard to the subjects to be
taught, the extent and nature of their recognition, the character of
the response to be expected of the student mind, and the kind of gauge
by which that response shall be measured by teachers, deans, and
registrars. In the matter of literature and the arts of design, where
there is likewise an implicit intention of enriching æsthetic
appreciation, an agreement is more easily reached, by reason of their
closer relationship to outer life, to action, and the more familiar
processes of thought. Few would maintain that the purpose of college
courses in English literature is to train professional novelists and
poets; the college leaves to the special art schools and to private
studios the development of painters, sculptors, and architects. What
remains to the college is reasonably clear. But in music, on the
contrary, the function of the college is by no means so evident as to
induce anything like general agreement. Should the musical courses be
exclusively cultural, or should they be so shaped as to provide
training for professional work in composition or performance? Should
they be "practical" (that is, playing and singing), or simply
theoretical (harmony, counterpoint, etc.), or entirely confined to
musical history and appreciation? Should credits leading to the A.B.
degree be given for musical work, and if so, ought they to include
performance, or only theory and composition? Should musical degrees be
granted, and if so, for what measure of knowledge or proficiency? One
or two Western colleges give credit for work done under the direction
of private teachers in no way connected with the institution:--is this
procedure to be commended, and if so, under what safeguards? Should a
college maintain a musical "conservatory" working under a separate
administrative and financial system, many or all of whose teachers are
not college graduates; or should its musical department be necessarily
an organic part of the college of arts and sciences, exactly like the
department of Latin or chemistry? If the former, as is the case with
many Western institutions, to what extent should the work in the music
school be supervised by the college president and general faculty;
under what limitations may candidates for the A.B. degree be allowed
to take accredited work in the music school? What should be the
relation of the college to the university in respect to the musical
courses? Is it possible to establish a systematic progress from step
to step similar to that which exists in many of the old established
lines? What should be the relation between the college and the
secondary schools? Should the effort be to establish a continuity of
study and promotion, such as that which exists in such subjects as
Latin and mathematics? Should the college give entrance credits for
musical work? If so, should it be on examination or certificate, for
practical or theoretical work, or both? Should the courses in the
history and appreciation of music be thrown open to all students, or
only to those who have some preliminary technical knowledge?

These are some of the questions that face a college governing board
when music is under discussion--questions that are dealt with on
widely divergent principles by colleges of equal rank. Some
institutions in the West permit to music a freedom and variety in
respect to grades, subjects, and methods which they allow to no other
subject. The University of Kansas undertakes musical extension work
throughout the state. Brown University restricts its musical
instruction to lecture courses on the history and appreciation of
music. Between these extremes there is every diversity of opinion and
procedure that can be conceived. The problem, as I have said, is
twofold, and so long as disagreement exists as to the object of
collegiate musical work, there can be no uniformity in administration.

In a university the problem is or should be somewhat more simple, just
as there is a more general accord concerning the precise object of
university training. In place of the confusion of views in regard to
ideals and systems and methods which exist in the present-day college,
we find in the university a calmness of conviction touching essentials
that results from the comparative simplicity of its functions and
aims. A conspicuous tendency in our universities is toward
specialization; their spirit and methods are largely derived from the
professional and graduate schools which give them their tone and
prestige. They look toward research and the advancement of learning as
their particular _raison d'être_, and also toward the practical
application of knowledge to actual life and the disciplining of
special faculties for definite vocational ends.[97] Since our
universities, unlike those of Europe, consist of a union of graduate
and undergraduate departments, any single problem, like that of music,
is simplified by the opportunity afforded by the direct passage from
undergraduate to graduate work, and the greater encouragement to
specialization in the earlier courses. A graduate school which admits
music will naturally do so on a vocational basis, and the question is
not of the aim to be sought, but the much easier one of the means of
its attainment, since there is no more of a puzzle in teaching an
embryo composer or music teacher than there is in teaching an
incipient physician or engineer.

It seems to me that the opportunity before the university has been
stated in a very clear and suggestive manner by Professor Albert A.
Stanley of the University of Michigan: "If in the future the line of
demarcation between the college and the university shall cease to be
as sinuous and shadowy as at present, the university will offer
well-defined courses in research, in creative work, possibly in
interpretation--by which I do not mean criticism, but rather that
which is criticized. [Professor Stanley evidently refers to musical
performance.] The college courses will then be so broadened that the
preparatory work will of necessity be relegated to the secondary
schools. This will impose on the colleges and universities still
another duty--the fitting of competent teachers. Logically music will
then be placed on the list of entrance studies, and the circle will be
complete. The fitting of teachers who can satisfy the conditions of
such work as will then be demanded will be by no means the least
function of the higher institutions. There will be more and more
demand for the broadly trained teacher, and there will be an even
greater demand for the specialist. By this I mean the specialist who
has been developed in a normal manner, and who appreciates the greater
relations of knowledge and life."[98]

=Problems in teaching of music in secondary schools are intelligently
attacked=

There is no question that the future of music in the colleges will
greatly depend upon the developments in the secondary schools. If the
time ever comes when the administrators of our public school system
accept and act upon the assertion of Dr. Claxton, United States
Commissioner of Education, that "after the beginnings of reading,
writing, and mathematics music has greater practical value than any
other subject taught in the schools," the college will find its
determination of musical courses an easier matter than it is now.
Students will in that event come prepared to take advantage of the
more advanced instruction offered by the college, as they do at
present in the standard subjects, and the musical pathway through the
college, and then through the university, will be direct and
unimpeded. Although such a prospect may seem to many only a roseate
dream, it is a safer prophecy than it would have appeared a half-dozen
years ago. The number of grammar and high schools is rapidly
increasing in which the pupils are given solid instruction in chorus
singing, ensemble playing, musical theory, and the history and
appreciation of music; and in many places pupils are also permitted to
carry on private study in vocal and instrumental music at the hands of
approved teachers, and school credit given therefor. So apparent is
the need of this latter privilege, and so full of fine possibilities,
that the question of licensing private teachers with a view to an
official recognition of the fittest has begun to receive the attention
of state associations and legislatures. It is impossible that the
colleges should remain indifferent to these tendencies in the
preparatory schools, for their duty and their advantage are found in
coöperating with them. The opportunity has been most clearly seen by
those colleges which have established departments for the training of
supervisors of public school music. Such service comes eminently
within the rôle of the college, for a disciplined understanding, a
liberal culture, an acquaintance with subjects once unrecognized as
related to music teaching, are coming to be demanded in the music
supervisor. The day of the old country-school singing master
transferred to the public school is past; the day of the trained
supervisor, who measures up to the intellectual stature of his
colleagues, is at hand. So clearly is this perceived that college
courses in public school music, which at first occupied one year at
the most, are being extended to two years and three years, and in at
least one or two instances occupying four years. And the benefit is
not confined to the schoolroom, for an educated man, conscious of his
peculiar powers, will see and use opportunities afforded him not
merely as a salaried preceptor but also as a citizen.

=Vital function of music in college curriculum is emotional and æsthetic=

To revert to the difficulties which the college faces in adjusting
musical courses to the general scheme of academic instruction: it is
clear that these difficulties lie partly in the very nature of musical
art. For music is not only an art but a science. It is the product of
constructive ingenuity as well as of "inspiration"; its technique is
of exquisite refinement and appalling difficulty; it appeals to the
intellect as well as to the emotion. And yet the intellectual element
is but tributary, and if the consciousness willfully shuts its gates
against the tide of rapture rushing to flood the sense and the
emotion, then in reality music is not, for its spirit is dead. What
shall be done with an agency so fierce and absorbing as this? Can it
be tamed and fettered by the old conceptions of mental discipline and
scholastic routine? Only by falsifying its nature and denying its
essential appeal. Some colleges attempt so to evade the difficulty,
and lend favor, so far at least as credit is concerned, only to the
theoretical studies in which the training is as severe, and almost as
unimaginative, as it is in mathematics. But to many this appears too
much like a reversion to the viewpoint of the mediæval convent schools
which classed music in the _quadrivium_ along with arithmetic,
geometry, and astronomy. Neither the creative power nor the æsthetic
receptivity is considered in such courses as these, and the spirit of
music revolts against this confinement and gives its pedantic jailers
no peace.

=The practical course as disciplinary as the theoretical=

Shall practical courses in playing and singing be accepted? Now the
objection arises that any proficiency with which a student--at least a
talented one--would be satisfied, entails hours each day of purely
technical practice, involving little of the kind of mental activity
that is presupposed in the tradition of college training. Those
institutions that have no practical courses are logical, at all
events, and seem to follow the line of least resistance. But the
opposition against the purely theoretical side of musical culture will
not down, and the "practical" element makes steady headway as the
truth shines more dearly upon the administrative mind that musical
performance is not a matter of mechanical technique alone, but of
scholarship, imaginative insight, keen emotional reaction, and
interpretation which involves a sympathetic understanding of the
creative mind. The objection to practical exercise dwindles as the
conception of its nature and goal enlarges.

=Lack of college-trained teachers adds to difficulty of recognizing
music as a college subject=

Another hindrance presents itself--not so inherent in the nature of
the case as those just mentioned--and that is the lack of teachers of
music whose educational equipment corresponds in all particulars to
the standard which the colleges have always maintained as a condition
of election to their corps of instructors. That one who is not a
college graduate should be appointed to a professorship or
instructorship in a college or university might seem to a college man
of the old school very near an absurdity. Yet as matters now stand it
would be impossible to fill the collegiate musical departments with
holders of the A.B. degree. The large and increasing number of college
graduates who are entering the musical profession, especially with a
view to finding a home in higher educational institutions, is an
encouraging phase of present tendencies, and seems to hold out an
assurance that this aspect of the college dilemma will eventually
disappear.[99] It is possible, however, that the colleges may be
willing to agree to a compromise, making a distinction between the
teachers of the history and criticism of music and those engaged in
the departments of musical theory and performance. Certainly no man
should be given a college position who is not in sympathy with the
largest purposes of the institution and able to contribute to their
realization; but it must be remembered that broad intelligence and
elevated character are to be found outside the ranks of college
alumni, and are not guaranteed by a college diploma.

=Teaching of the history and appreciation of music=

Amid the jangle of conflicting opinions in regard to courses and
methods and credits and degrees, etc., etc., one subject enjoys the
distinction of unanimous consent, and that is the history and
appreciation of music. This department may stand alone, as it does at
Brown University, or it may supplement theoretical and practical
courses; but there seems to be a universal conviction that if the
colleges accept music in any guise, they must use it as a means of
enlarging comprehension and taste on the part of their young people,
and of bringing them to sympathetic acceptance of its finest
manifestations. It seems incredible that a college should employ
literature and the fine arts except with the fixed intention of
bringing them to bear upon the mind of youth according to the purpose
of those who made them what they are in the spiritual development of
humanity. Even from the most rigid theoretical and technical drill the
cultural aim must not be excluded if the college would be true to
itself; how much more urgent is the duty of providing courses in which
the larger vision of art, with the resultant spiritual quickening, is
the prime intention! President Nicholas Murray Butler, in his address
of welcome to the Music Teachers' National Association at their
meeting in New York in 1907, struck a note that must find response in
the minds of all who are called upon to deal officially with this
question, when he recognized as a department of music worthy of the
college dignity "one which is not to deal merely with the technique of
musical expression or musical processes, but one which is to interpret
the underlying principles of musical art and the various sciences on
which it rests, and to set out and to illustrate to men and women who
are seeking education what those principles signify, how they may be
brought helpfully and inspiringly into intellectual life, and what
part they should play in the public consciousness of a cultivated and
civilized nation."

=Emphasis on appreciation rather than technique=

The first step in understanding the part which the principles of
music should play in the consciousness of a civilized nation is to
learn the part they have played in history. A survey of this history
shows that all the phenomena of musical development, even those
apparently transient and superficial, testify to a necessity of human
nature, an unappeasable thirst for self-expression. In view of the
relationship of musical art to the individual and the collective need,
it is plain that musical history and musical appreciation must be
taught together as a supplementary phase of one great theme. And,
furthermore, this phase is one that is not only necessary in a
complete scheme of musical culture, but is also one that is conveyed
in a language which all can understand. It is significant of the broad
democratic outlook of our American institutions of learning, in
contrast to the universities of Europe, that the needs of the
unprepared students are considered as well as the benefit of those who
have had musical preparation, and the mysteries of musical art are
submitted to all who desire initiation. Too much emphasis cannot be
laid upon this wise and generous attitude toward the fine arts which
is maturing in our American colleges; by which they demonstrate their
belief in the power of adaptation of all manifestations of beauty to
the condition of every one of intelligence, however slight the
experience or limited the talent. There are, unquestionably, certain
puzzling difficulties in imparting an understanding of musical
structure and principles to those who have not even a preliminary
smattering of the musical speech, but the experiment has gone far
enough to prove that music, with all its abstruseness, complexity, and
remoteness from the world of ordinary experience, has still a message
so direct, so penetrating, so human and humanizing, that no one can be
wholly indifferent to its eloquence when it comes through the ministry
of a qualified interpreter.

=The properly trained college teacher of music=

A qualified interpreter!--yes, there's the rub. Only a few years ago
men competent to teach the history and philosophy of music in a manner
which a college or university could consistently tolerate, were almost
non-existent, and even today many colleges are out of sheer necessity
giving over this department to men of very scanty qualifications. Few
men have faith enough to prepare for work that is not yet in sight.
Then with the sudden breaking out of musical history and appreciation
courses all over the country, the demand appeared instantly far in
excess of the supply. The few men who had prepared themselves for
scholarly critical work were, as a rule, in the employ of daily
newspapers, and the colleges were compelled to delegate the historical
and interpretative lectures to those whose training had been almost
wholly in other lines of musical interest. No reputable college would
think for a moment of offering chairs of political science, or general
history, or English literature to men with so meager an equipment.
There is no doubt that the disfavor with which the musical courses are
still regarded by professors of the old school is largely due to the
feeling that their musical colleagues as a rule have undergone an
education so narrow and special that it keeps them apart from the full
life of the institution. That this is the tendency of an education
that is exclusively special, no one can deny. It is equally undeniable
that such an education is quite inadequate in the case of one who
assumes to teach the history and appreciation of music. This subject,
by reason of the multifarious relations between music and individual
and social life, demands not only a complete technical knowledge, but
also a familiarity with languages, general history, literature, and
art not less than that required by any other subject that could be
mentioned. The suggestion by a French critic that a lecturer on art
must be an artist, a historian, a philosopher, and a poet, applies
with equal relevance to a lecturer on music.

It is only fair to the musical profession to say that its members are
as eager to meet these requirements as the colleges are to make them.
If music still holds an inferior place in many colleges, both in fact
and in esteem, the fault lies in no small measure in the ignorance on
the part of trustees, presidents, and faculties of the nature of
music, its demands, its social values, and its mission in the
development of civilization. With the enlightenment of the powers
that control the college machinery, encouragement will be given to men
of liberal culture and scholarly habit to prepare themselves directly
for college work. The hundreds of college graduates now in the musical
profession will be followed by other hundreds still more amply
equipped as critics and expounders. The natural place for the majority
of them, I maintain, is not in the private studio or newspaper office,
but in the college and university classroom.

There is no reason in the nature of things why our colleges and
universities should not also be the centers of a concentrated and
intensive activity, directed upon research and philosophic
generalization in the things of music as in other fields of inquiry.
For this they must provide libraries, endowments, and fellowships.
Such works as Mr. Elson's _History of American Music_, Mr. Krehbiel's
_Afro-American Folksongs_, and Mr. Kelly's _Chopin as a Composer_
should properly emanate from the organized institutions of learning
which are able to give leisure and facility to men of scholarly
ambition. The French musical historian, Jules Combarieu, enumerates as
the domains constantly open to musical scholarship: acoustics,
physiology, mathematics, psychology, æsthetics, history, philology,
palæography, and sociology.[100] Every one of these topics has already
an indispensable place in the college and university system--it is for
trained scholarship to draw from them the contributions that will
relate music explicitly to the active life of the intellect.

But not for the intellect only. Here the colleges are still in danger
of error, due to their long-confirmed emphasis upon concepts,
demonstrations, scientific methods, and "positive" results, to the
neglect of the imagination, the emotions, the intuitions, and the
things spiritually discerned. "The sovereign of the arts," says Edmund
Clarence Stedman, "is the imagination, by whose aid man makes every
leap forward; and emotion is its twin, through which come all fine
experiences, and all great deeds are achieved. Youth demands its share
in every study that can engender a power or a delight. Universities
must enhance the use, the joy, the worth of existence. They are
institutions both human and humane."[101]

=The test of effective teaching of music in the college: Does it enrich
the life of the student through the inculcation of an æsthetic interest?=

Institutions which exclude the agencies which act directly to enhance
"the joy and the worth of existence" are universities only in name.
Equally imperfect are they if, while nominally accepting these
agencies, they recognize only those elements in them which are
susceptible to scientific analysis, whose effects upon the student can
be tested by examinations and be marked and graded--elements which are
only means, and not final ends. The college forever needs the
humanizing, socializing power of music, the drama, the arts of design,
and it must use them not as confined to the classroom or to any single
section of the institution, but as the effluence of spiritual life,
permeating and invigorating the whole. In the mental life of the
college there have always ruled investigation, comparison, analysis,
and the temper fostered is that of reflection and didacticism. Into
this world of deliberation, routine, mechanical calculation, there has
come the warm breath of music, art, and poetry, stirring a new fire of
rapture amid the embers of speculation. The instincts of youth spring
to inhale it; youth feels affiliation with it, for art and poesy, like
nature, are ever self-renewing and never grow old. It works to unify
the life of the college whose tendency is to divide into sealed
compartments of special intellectual interests. It introduces a life
that all may share, because men divide when led by their intellects,
they unite when led by their emotions. Among the fine arts music is
perhaps supreme in its power to refine the sense of beauty, to soften
the heart at the touch of high thought and tender sentiment, to bring
the individual soul into sympathy with the over-soul of humanity. It
is this that gives music its supreme claim to an honored place in the
halls of learning, as it is its crowning glory.

The whole argument, then, is reduced to this: that with all the
scientific aspects of the art with respect to material, structure,
psychological action, historical origins and developments and
relations, of which the college, as an institution of exact learning,
may take cognizance, music must be accepted and taught just because it
is beautiful and promotes the joy of life, and the development of the
higher sense of beauty and the spiritual quickening that issues
therefrom must be the final reason for its use. At the same time it
must be so cultivated and taught that it will unite its forces for a
common end with all those factors which, within the college and
without the college, are now working with an energy never known before
in American history for a social life animated by a zeal for ideal
rather than material ends, and inspired by nobler visions of the true
meaning of national progress.

Among the worthy functions of our colleges there is none more needful
than that of inspiring ardent young crusaders who shall go forth to
contend against the hosts of mediocrity, ugliness, and vulgarity. One
encouragement to this warfare is in the fact that these hosts,
although legion, are dull as well as gross, and may easily be
bewildered and put to rout by the organized assaults of the children
of light. So may it be said of our institutions of culture, as Matthew
Arnold said of Oxford, that they "keep ever calling us nearer to the
true goal of all of us, to the ideal, to perfection--to beauty, in a
word, which is only truth seen from another side."

                                               EDWARD DICKINSON
  _Oberlin College_


Footnotes:

[94] Arthur L. Manchester: "Music Education in the United States;
Schools and Departments of Music." United States Bureau of Education
Bulletin, 1908, No. 4.

[95] Papers and Proceedings of the Music Teachers' National
Association, 1907; report by Leonard B. McWhood.

[96] _The Spirit of Learning_, Woodrow Wilson: in _Representative Phi
Beta Kappa Orations_, edited by Northup, Lane and Schwab. Boston,
Houghton Mifflin Company, 1915.

[97] I wish to safeguard this statement by saying that I have in mind
not the more conservative universities of the East, but the state
institutions of the Middle and Western commonwealths. In speaking of
universities as compared with colleges I am also considering the
graduate and professional departments. It is difficult to make general
assertions, on such a subject that do not meet with exceptions.

[98] Papers and Proceedings of the Music Teachers' National
Association, 1906.

[99] There is an interesting statistical article on the college
graduate in the musical profession by W. J. Baltzell in the _Musical
Quarterly_, October, 1915.

[100] _Music; its Laws and Evolution_: Introduction. Translation in
Appleton's International Scientific Series.

[101] _The Nature and Elements of Poetry_, page 5.



XXIV

THE TEACHING OF ART


=Art instruction defined=

In this chapter an attempt is made to set forth the aims, content, and
methods of art instruction in the college. In this discussion the word
"college" will be regarded in the usual sense of the College of
Liberal Arts, and art instruction as one of the courses which lead to
the degree of bachelor of arts.

There is no term that is used more freely and with less precision than
the word "art." In some usages it is given a very broad and
comprehensive meaning, in others a very narrow and exclusive one. The
term is sometimes applied to a human activity, at other times to the
products of but a small part of that activity--for example, paintings
and statuary.

In this chapter the term will be used in accordance with the
definition evolved by Tolstoi, who says: "Art is a human activity,
consisting in this, that one man consciously, by means of external
signs, hands on to others feelings he has lived through, and that
other people are affected by these feelings, and also experience
them."[102] The external signs by which the feelings are handed on are
movements, as in dancing and pantomime; lines, masses, colors, as in
architecture, painting and sculpture; sounds, as in music; or forms
expressed in words, as in poetry and other forms of literature. The
external signs with which art instruction in the college deals are
lines, masses, and colors. This discussion, therefore, treats of
instruction in the formative or visual arts, which include
architecture, painting, sculpture, decoration, and the various crafts,
in so far as they come within the meaning of the definition given
above.

=Instruction in art should be an integral part of a liberal education=

Concerning the nature of art and the purpose of art instruction in the
college, there is so much misunderstanding that it will be well to
make an attempt at clarification. Art is too commonly regarded as a
luxury--a superfluity that may serve to occupy the leisure of the
well-to-do--a kind of embroidery upon the edge of life that may be
affixed or discarded at will. Whereas, art is a factor that is
fundamental in human life and development, a factor that has entered
into the being of the race from the dawn of reason. Its products,
which antedate written history by thousands of years, form the most
reliable source of information we possess of the habits and thoughts
of prehistoric man. It has been the medium of expression of many of
the choicest products of human thought throughout the ages. These
products have been embodied in forms other than that of writing. Its
functions are limited neither to the citizen, the community, nor the
country; they extend beyond national bounds to the world at large. Art
belongs to the brotherhood of man. It is no respecter of
nationalities. It is obvious that in a general college course, a study
of the religious, social, and political factors in civilization that
does not include art among these factors is incomplete.

The question under discussion concerns the teaching of art to the
candidate for the bachelor of arts degree, and this question will be
solely kept in view. Since, however, graduates in science,
engineering, law, medicine, etc., are not exempt from the needs of
artistic culture, they too should have at least an effective minimum
of art instruction.

=Art a social activity=

Art is recognized as a social activity. It enters largely into such
practical and utilitarian problems of the community as town planning
and other forms of civic improvement. As workers in such activities,
college graduates are frequently called to serve on boards of
directors and committees which have such work in charge. To most of
such persons, education in art comes as a post-collegiate activity.
Surely the interests of the community would be promoted if the men and
women into whose hands these interests are committed had had some
formal instruction in art during their college years.

If by practical education we mean training which prepares the
individual for living, then the study of an activity that so pervades
human life should be included in the curriculum of even a so-called
practical college course. Art education has a more important function
than to promote the love of the beautiful, to purify and elevate
public taste, to awaken intellectual and spiritual desires, to create
a permanent means of investing leisure. Important as all these
purposes are, they are merely a part of a larger one--that of
revealing to the student the relationship of art to living.

=Flexibility of art expression determines flexibility of art instruction=

Art expression has the quality of utmost flexibility. This flexibility
appears also in art instruction, and it is for this reason that in no
two institutions of higher learning is the problem of art instruction
attacked in the same way. There is, consequently, a great diversity in
the types of art courses, even in the college.

The flexibility of art instruction is both advantageous and
embarrassing. It is an advantage in that it can be adapted to almost
any requirement. It can be applied to the occupations of the
kindergarten, or it can be made an intensive study suitable for the
graduate school. But this very breadth is also a source of weakness in
that it tends to divert the attention from that precision of purpose
which all formal instruction should have, however elementary or
advanced. It is apt to be too scattering in its aims. It is not easy
to determine exact values either in the subject studied or in the
accomplishment of the student. Estimates in art are, and should be,
largely a matter of personal taste and opinion. They are not
infrequently colored by prejudice, especially where the judgment of
producing artists is invoked. This, again, is as it should be. An
artist who assumes toward all works of art a catholic attitude,
weakens that intensity of view and of purpose which animates his
enthusiasm. It can easily be understood that to a larger extent than
in other subjects the nature and scope of art instruction depends upon
the personality of the instructor.

=Values of art instruction=

The flexibility to which we have adverted adapts art instruction to
diverse educational aims.

In that it can be made to conduce to accurate observation of artistic
manifestations, and to logical deduction therefrom, it may be given a
disciplinary purpose. In its highest development, to which only the
specially gifted can attain, the ability to observe accurately and to
deduce logically demands the most exacting training of the eye, of the
visual memory, and of the judgment. As an example of the exercise of
this sort of discipline we may cite Professor Waldstein's recognition
of a marble fragment in the form of a head in the Louvre as belonging
to a metope of the Parthenon. When, after Professor Waldstein's
suggestion of the probable connection, a plaster cast of the head was
taken to the British Museum and placed upon the headless figure of one
of the metopes, the surfaces of fracture were found to correspond.[103]
The most useful application of this ability lies in the correct
attribution of works of art to their proper schools and authorship.
Signor Morelli in his method of identification used a system that is
almost mechanical, yet the evidence supplied by concurrence or
discrepancy of form in the delineation of anatomical details was
supplemented by a highly cultivated sense for style, for
craftsmanship, and for color as well as by an extensive historical
knowledge.

In that art instruction cultivates taste and the appreciation of works
of art, it has a cultural purpose. By many persons it is assumed that
this is its sole value.

In that it serves to illuminate the study of the progress of
civilization, it has an informative purpose.

In that it enables the technical student to correlate his work with
that of past and present workers, it aids in the preparation for
professional studies.

=Difference between technical and lay courses in art one of emphasis=

Art has been defined as "the harmonic expression of the emotions."[104]
Accepting this definition as a modified condensation of Tolstoi's
definition, it is clear that in a work of art two separate personalities
are involved--that which makes the expression, and the other to whom
the expression is addressed; thus, there are artists on the one hand,
and the public on the other. Since we shall have to speak of two
distinct classes of students,--namely, those who are in training as
future artists (as architects, painters, sculptors, designers, etc.),
and those who are taking courses in the understanding or appreciation
of art,--it will be convenient in this discussion to refer to the
former as art students and to the latter as lay students.

Formal art instruction has been offered by colleges to both these
groups. It is evident that for the training of the art student
emphasis must be placed upon the technique of creative work, whereas
for the lay student emphasis must be placed upon the study of the
theory and the history of art. It would seem, however, that these two
methods are not mutually exclusive; nor should they be, for the art
student would surely gain by a study of the principles of art and its
history, while the lay student would profit by a certain amount of
practice directed by an observance of the principles.

Mr. Duncan Phillips, in an article entitled "What Instruction in Art
Should the College A.B. Course Offer to the Future Writer on Art?"
proposes a hypothetical course in which "the ultimate intention would
be to awaken the æsthetic sensibilities of the youthful mind, to
encourage the emergence of the artists and art critics, and the
establishment of a residue of well-instructed appreciators."[105]

This proposal assumes the desirability of the completion of a general
course designed for college students, before beginning the special
courses designed for those individuals whose aptitudes seem to fit
them for successful careers as artists on the one hand, or as
successful writers on art, or art instructors on the other.

In this place the question of professional training will not be
discussed. The courses under consideration are designed to serve the
group of lay students from which specialists may, from time to time,
emerge. It is of the utmost importance that provision for the further
training of such specialists should be made in the college, in the
postgraduate school, or in an allied professional school of art.

In view of the great diversity in the treatment of the subject in
different colleges, it will be impossible to present a series of
courses that might, under other conditions, be representative of a
general practice throughout the country. On the other hand, the
attempt to make an epitome of the various methods in use at the more
important colleges would result in the presentation of a succession of
unrelated statements drawn from catalogues which would be hardly less
exasperating to the reader than it would be for him to follow,
successively, the outlines as presented in the catalogues themselves.
Various summaries of these outlines have been made, and to these the
reader is referred.[106]

=A general course of study--Must be adjusted to local conditions=

An attempt is here made to set forth a programme which is offered as a
suggestion, upon which actual courses may be based, with such
modifications as are demanded by local conditions, the number and
personal training of the teaching staff, and the physical equipment
available.

The task before the college art instructor is to cultivate the lay
student's understanding and appreciation of the works of art and to
develop an ardent enthusiasm for his subject, tempered by good taste.
This understanding will be based upon a workable body of principles
which the student can use in making his artistic estimates and
choices. Such a body of principles will constitute his theory of art.

=Two methods of presenting art instruction to lay students=

Art instruction for lay students may be presented in two ways:

1. By the study of theory supplemented by the experimental application
of theory to practice, as by drawing, design, etc.

2. By the study of theory supplemented by an application of theory to
the analysis and estimation of works of art as they are presented in a
systematic study of the history of art.

Consider now the relation of practice and history to theory:

First as to practice: Art instructors are divided into three camps on
the question of giving to the lay student instruction in practice: (1)
Those who believe that not only is practice unnecessary in the study
of theory, but actually harmful; (2) those who believe that practice
will aid in a study of the theory of art; (3) Those who believe that
practice is indispensable and who would, therefore, require that all
students supplement their study of the theory of art by practice. As
may be surmised, by far the largest number of advocates is found in
the middle division.

One form of practice is Representation. In this form the student
begins by drawing in freehand very simple objects either in outline or
mass, and proceeds through more advanced exercises in drawing from
still life, to drawing and painting of landscape and the human figure.
With the addition of supplementary studies, such as anatomy,
perspective, modeling, composition, craft work, theory, history, etc.,
this would be, broadly speaking, the method followed in schools of
art, where courses, occupying from two to four or five years, are
given, intended primarily for those who expect to make some sort of
creative art their vocation.

It is this kind of work which opponents to practice for the lay
student have in mind. They claim that only by long and severe
training can he produce such works as will give satisfaction to him or
to others who examine his handiwork. They contend that the
understanding of works of art is not dependent upon ability to produce
a poor example. They offer many amusing analogies as arguments against
practice courses for lay students. They maintain that the proof of the
pudding is in the eating, rather than in the making; that to enjoy
music one need not practice five-finger exercises; that other
creatures than domestic fowls are capable of judging of the quality of
eggs; that to appreciate the beauty of a tapestry it is not necessary
to examine the reverse side. It will perhaps be sufficient, for the
present, to point out that in so far as such alleged analogies can be
submitted for arguments, they are equally applicable to laboratory
courses in any subject which is studied with a non-professional or
non-vocational purpose.

It is true, however, that such a course as that outlined above demands
a large amount of time, compared with the results attained; and while
successful courses in Representation are offered in certain colleges,
the great mass of college students, who cannot hope to acquire a high
degree of skill, would hesitate to devote a large part of their
training to technical work, even if college faculties were willing to
grant considerable proportions of credit for it toward the bachelor of
arts degree.

=Relative value of freehand drawing and design=

It will be understood by the reader that the value of elementary
freehand drawing as a means of discipline or as an aid to the
technical student is not under discussion. The value of drawing as a
fundamental language for such purposes is universally admitted. The
questions are these: Can some form of practice in art be used to aid
in the understanding of the principles of art? Is representative
drawing the only form of practice available for the lay student who
undertakes the study of art? Fortunately, the advocates of practice
can offer an alternative; namely Design. Mr. Arthur Dow distinguishes
between the Drawing method (Representation) and the Design method by
calling the former _Analytical_ and the latter _Synthetical_. In an
article on "Archaism in Art Teaching"[107] he says: "I wish to show
that the traditional 'drawing method' of teaching art is too weak to
meet the new art criticism and new demands, or to connect with
vocational and industrial education in an effective way; but that the
'Design method' is broad and strong enough to do all of these things."

"The drawing method," he continues, "is analytic, dealing with the
small, the details, the _application_ of art; the design method is
synthetic, dealing with wholes, unities, principles of art."

Mr. Dow carries his exposition into the application of the Design
method to vocational work, but it can be used with equal effect in
supplementing the lay student's study of art.

But the questions immediately arise: Is not a preparation as long and
arduous required to make a designer as to make a painter or a
sculptor? And is not the half-baked designer in as sorry a plight as
the half-baked artist of any kind? The answer to both is simple: The
lay student is not in any degree a painter or a sculp