tion for a trade or avocation go to the technical schools. Professor Gonzalez Lodge in The Classical Weekly (Feb. 18, 1911), commenting on this address with approval, distinguishes between what men are going to do and what they are going to be, that is, between what their avocation shall be and "what influence they are going to exert by their own personality upon their neighbors." He believes that experience and breadth of view will come from a modern classical education. "The proper place for such an education is in the small college and not in the large university; in the small college men have time to grow instead of hustle, the object in view is primarily life and not money.'

BETWEEN CLEVER AND DULL STUDENTS

When the students have assembled in the class-room another and growing problem presents itself. Imagine a whole street flocking into a tailor shop and insisting upon being supplied with suits of clothes, all the same size and yet every one a good fit. The tailor might order some elastic rubber, but more probably he would call the police. Now the teacher has daily and hourly to fit one and the same teaching to the miscellaneous sizes before him. Will he do kindergarten work with the lowest in the class or will he give a university-extension course to the brilliant minds at the head of the class? He will have to compromise, and this is one of the questions which worries much the conscientious teacher. Some make sections and so strive to solve the problem. Some ignore the difficulty and go on in blissful unconsciousness, dispensing their wisdom without hampering their progress by anything so common as a test or questions or repetitions. How a teacher is to find the true course is hard to determine in every instance. It is something to realize that all students have a right to an education, the dunce as well as the genius. Some modern theorists believe both extremes

are diseases and promise us that the dunce, at least, will cease to exist. It is a consummation to be wished, but most of the remedies hitherto suggested call for more doctors for one patient than can be supplied, and then we are confronted by the initial problem of supplying teachers.

BETWEEN TALKING AND QUESTIONING

The difference between pupils leads naturally to another difficulty quite similar, the choice of different methods of appeal to the pupils. Will a teacher talk all the time or try to get his class to do most of the talking? If the writer may be indulged an open confession, he would admit that an experience of some years of teaching has revealed in him a certain inclination to talk, not always controlled with success. To question with tact and patience, to perform the daily miracle of curing partial mental-blindness, to focus the vision by further and further suggestion until things that look like trees finally disclose themselves as men, and to repeat that process over and over again, all this is a tremendous strain upon teachers, and it can hardly surprise us that they yield frequently to the more flattering and easier occupation of listening to themselves lecture. Here is the compromise offered by Mr. A. C. Benson in "The Schoolmaster": "Some teachers deal largely in questions, but if the class is large, it needs almost genius to keep question and answer going with sufficient rapidity to insure universal attention. Moreover, if the requisite enthusiasm is evoked, it requires a good deal of masterfulness to keep it within decorous bounds. I myself believe that questioning should be more used in small classes and that with a large class a form of lecturing, interspersed with questions, is the more effective. But here again the idiosyncrasy of the man comes in. If a teacher has the gift of asking questions of a kind that stimulates curiosity by the form and makes the answering of them into a brisk

species of intellectual lawn tennis, he is probably a very good teacher."

BETWEEN EXPLANATION IN CLASS AND STUDY AT HOME

Home work, as well as class work, makes its demands upon the teacher's faculty of adjustment. Happy the teacher who dismisses his class, not burdened and disheartened by a heavy load of merely assigned lessons, not with a supply of cut and dried answers for cut and dried questions, but with lessons that have been explained, which have been illuminated by sympathetic and suggestive teaching and which will call for some original work, not wholly uninteresting, on the part of the pupil, work which is either to be put in writing or made ready for an oral delivery on the following day. A particular example of this species of compromise is furnished in the teaching of Latin and Greek. In Catholic colleges and especially in Jesuit schools, a previous explanation, called the prelection, is given for the Greek and Latin authors. A different system has been followed in most of the other schools and colleges of the country, but now the latter seem to be clamoring for a better adjustment. To say

to a class in Latin, "Take the next fifty lines," is usually only another way of saying, "Invest a small sum of money in a translation." "A professor in a large university," says Professor Lodge in The Classical Weekly, March 4, 1911, "told me recently that ninety per cent of the work done in the classics in that institution was done by means of translations." What does the Professor of Teachers College, Columbia University, propose as a remedy? "Not more time devoted to Latin and Greek in the curriculum, but more time devoted to them in the school or class-room. The college system by which the freshman class prepares a certain modicum of text for recitation in the class-room is fundamentally wrong and

must go or we must go." "It is too absurd for consideration," Professor Lodge thinks, "to ask a young man of eighteen to prepare a translation of fifty lines in Horace after he has been studying Latin for four years." In the Classical Journal, January, 1911, an article on Factors in Vitalizing Study of the Classics advocates the old method of prelections almost as if it were a new discovery. The precedent of Germany is adduced in favor of the practice. A lecture of Dr. G. Stanley Hall is cited on the same side. "The message of this lecture," says the writer, "is, "Teach! Teach! Ask no pupil to take a step in advance except under direction!' If the Germans do not make weak and dependent students by this method, neither need we." The one who wishes to catch up to the modern advance in education will need to do no more than stand where he is with his world-old methods and the rapidly shifting programmes and schemes of today will complete their comet-flights in space and come back to his system.

But if modern teachers see once more the advisability of old methods, conservative systems must not go to the other extreme of doing everything for the student or becoming stereotyped in their teaching. Their explanations should be suggestive, stimulating and not formal and exhaustive. Between the lecturer and the mere assigner of lessons comes the teacher who will plan the campaign, map out the roads, do much of the pioneer work, point to the enemy, but will permit his students to fight in the battle.

BETWEEN ANY MEANS AND CERTAIN MEANS

All other compromises in education are insignificant when compared with the most important, which is one concerned with the choice of means and their grouping. Ex-President Eliot and his school believe that any study or work, from sawing and filing in the shop to the sorting

and weighing in the laboratory, will give as good an education as reading and writing or parsing and translating. Any tool in the universe, it would seem, can fashion brains. A dentist could not pull a tooth with his hand-mirror or a doctor lance a boil with a stethoscope, or a watchmaker mend a watch with a hoe, but an educator can grasp any means that is handy to poke into a lad's brain and bring it into order and maturity. These extreme conclusions of exaggerated electivism were not followed out, because a force of teachers could not possibly be supplied for the purpose of catering to every individual taste. Some of our universities had schools of veterinary surgery and therapeutics, but none of them could supply courses in advanced blacksmithing and asphalt-paving and other brain-producers of the kind. Again, common sense and brief experimentation showed that as the instruments of the humblest trade have been perfected in the course of years, much more had the established instruments of education received the perfecting touch of time. Reading, writing, speaking, in a word, expression in language had been the end as well as the means of education for centuries, and thoughtful men saw that so it must continue to be because language, and especially the classical languages, had been rendered apt for the purpose by constant use and because language is close to man's thoughts and will certainly serve as a test of their worth even if time had not shown it to be their very best discipline. Certain other means of education which have in the course of time been improved and are now adapted to develop the faculties, may be added to supplement. Mathematics may give a more obvious lesson in the strictness of logic, and initiate its scholar into the world of pure science; some special sciences, such as chemistry and physics, may focus more sharply the powers of observation and open up the world of nature to the young mind; history may convey more interesting and useful