might rise to heaven. Of course it fails of its noblest possibility, its highest mission and aim. It is not well to miss the flower and the fruit of the tree of knowledge from persistent delving after its roots.

It may be well to consider whether the infidelity and material tendencies of the age are not in a measure due to a lack of thorough classical training, through loss of which the proper balance in our educational systems has been seriously disturbed, and which a smattering in ten thousand branches of culture can never adequately replace.

With regard to the question of methods in connection with the two last named objects of classical study, it seems only necessary to say, at least on the positive side of the question, that if the objects are kept steadily in view, the methods will generally be obvious. The mental discipline and gymnastic training are produced by the effort of the student to wrest the thought in its clearness and completeness from the Greek or Latin text. Questions of inflection, of etymology and syntax, are secondary to this one of the complete understanding of the thought. The etymology and syntax and inflection are there for no other reason than the careful and complete expression of the thought. As a rule, therefore, the student may be regarded as sufficiently proficient in these grammatical elements if he has accurately and completely apprehended the thought, not of course from a translation, but from the text itself. And the questions which the instructor should ask will in general be indicated by evidence in the rendering that the student has at some point, and in some measure, failed to apprehend the thought or statement of the text. This simple rule would relieve many a class-room of the meaningless and comparatively useless drill which so often renders recitation a tedious drudgery to both instructors and students.

Upon the negative side of this question of methods, that is upon the question, what ought not to be done, there is room for more extended remark. For as if to forestall the disciplinary and gymnastic effect of classical study and render it as nearly valueless as possible, it is getting to be common for students in American colleges, instead of tasking their own powers to wrest the thought or statement from the classic text, to save

themselves the trouble of the effort, and deprive themselves of its advantage by resorting to the use of translations.

Let us for a moment consider the effect of the "pony" upon this properly gymnastic exercise by pursuing the figure suggested by the definitive word.

A young man is told that by going daily to the gymnasium and seizing the bar over his head and drawing himself up by the arms an increasing number of times each day, he can develop the strength of his arms so that at the end of a few months they will be more than twice as strong as they were when he commenced. He goes to the gymnasium and tries to raise himself according to the directions, but finds the exercise difficult. In fact, for the first few days he can scarcely raise himself at all.

But a man standing by and seeing his difficulty, offers him a contrivance which he has invented for gymnasts of this class. It is an apparatus fitted with a couple of spring-poles which will do the lifting for him. He has only to guide himself with his arms, and he goes up and down, up and down ad libitum, with scarcely an effort and without the slightest fatigue. He thinks it very fine. He considers the spring-pole apparatus a great improvement upon the ordinary methods of gymnastic exercise, and purchases it of the gifted and beneficent inventor. But when he has practiced six months or a year in this way, he need not be surprised to find that his arins are no stronger than they were at first. Take away the spring-poles and he cannot raise himself any better than before.

Now the man who practices gymnastics in this way is just as sensible as the student who habitually uses translations in college. Such a student may justly distrust his ability to translate from any classic author without help. We may say in fact that he not only derives little benefit from his study, but his mind is actually demoralized by it. He is perpetually conscious, at least fearful, that he cannot do what he ought to do, what is expected of him. It would seem that common sense, to say nothing of common honesty, should effectually deter any student who possesses this valuable endowment, from thus defeating the object of his own efforts.

And yet to what a shameful extent are translations used in

American colleges. In many of them their use is not only constant and habitual but almost universal, the students generally opening their translations at the same time with the book containing the text, and not even attempting to render or construe for themselves. And the saddest and most shameful feature in the case is, that in some colleges the whole system of classical study has to be accommodated and actually is accommodated to this perverse persistency of dishonest and unfaithful students. This is a fact which the advocates of classical learning, and the friends of American colleges will do well to ponder.

In the opinion of the writer, the use of translations in college ought to be suppressed, if possible, by the exercise of authority. Their use is so pernicious, so fatal in fact to the true success of classical study, as to warrant extreme measures for its suppression. If this should prove impracticable, some means should, at all events, be devised so that honest students should not be made to suffer from the unfaithfulness of the indolent and dishonest. Those of the newly arrived students who should be willing to pledge themselves never to use translations in preparing their lessons, might at least be placed in a division by themselves where they might have the benefit of such instruction as honest study requires, and where unfaithfulness and dishonesty might not stand at a premium.

We may remark, in passing, that the use of translations is, if possible, more pernicious in its effects upon the third object of classical study, viz: that of developing the faculty of language, than in reference to mental discipline and gymnastic training.

The student who uses translations does not even attempt to exercise his own power of expression. He takes both the sense of the text and its expression directly from his translation. Unfortunately, good translations are generally at hand, and the student does not think it necessary to attempt any improveThe success he aims at is in general merely a question of memory.

ment.

But even students who are inclined to do honest work often lose the value of translation as a linguistic exercise because their instructors allow them to give hesitating, stammering,

awkward, inaccurate, inappropriate renderings. Of course no one can learn to use language well by using it ill. The contrary rather is the effect. It is especially necessary, therefore, that the object of translation should be kept steadily in view, and that a constant effort should be made towards its realization.

Translation from the classic authors furnishes the means of a most valuable linguistic exercise, but unless there is an effort on the part of the student to give the thought once apprehended correct and fitting expression, no advantage can be derived from it. But there is always a sufficient opportunity for the effort. All the ability of the student, many times indeed the best ability of the instructor, will not exceed the demands or at least the opportunities of the occasion. In fact a perfect extemporaneous translation is oftentimes an impossibility. Any one can do better by deliberate writing. But the better the student's comprehension of terms, the better his taste and facility of expression, the better he will succeed in the exercise. But after he has done his best, an accomplished instructor will often show him where his work is imperfect and still susceptible of improvement.

The perfect use of language, if such a thing were conceivable, is one of the rarest and most valuable of accomplishments. We include, of course, in this estimate, the power to make language flexible, to vary forms of expression according to the needs of the sentence, the laws of euphony, or the requirements of poetical structure. We know of no exercise so well adapted to the development of this faculty as translation from the ancient tongues when the exercise is properly conducted. It is plain, however, that its value in this regard depends entirely upon the care and faithfulness of the student, and the ability and diligence of the instructor.

Too much, however, should not be expected of the student at the beginning. In fact we do not say that there may not be stages of classical study in which the stilty literalism and half absurd mixture of idiom so common in translation may be admissible, the attention of the instructor being for the time directed mainly to the question whether the idea has been correctly apprehended. But this stage, if admissible at all, should

be quickly passed, and the student should be taught that the principal object of translation is to exercise his powers of expression.

It is evident from what has been written above that the question of the educational value of classical study depends almost entirely upon the question of the manner in which the study is pursued and of the ability of the instructor. This last element, no less than the first, is a more important factor of the calculation here than in any other department of the educational effort. In mathematics, or in the natural sciences, any capable young man can surely succeed by diligent application and perseverance, with text books alone. In mathematics the work proves itself. The student knows whether he is right or not without any indication from his instructor, The principal object of recitation is to find how well he has learned his lesson. He expects no help from his instructor;—at least he needs none. Whatever branch of the subject he pursues, he finds everything clearly and unmistakably written down in his text book. He has only to read, and understand, and remember. If he understands a demonstration and can go through with the process of proof, he knows it, or at least may know it, just as well before recitation as after. If he solves a problem, he knows that. Of course there are problems he cannot solve, but a solution of all difficult problems is not necessary to a thorough understanding of mathematical science. If it were, he could find a solution of the more difficult ones in a key, and could obtain the necessary assistance from that almost as profitably as from a living instructor. There is no essential difference between the two methods.

So in Physics, and Astronomy, and Chemistry;-in fact in all branches of Natural science. If he masters the terminology and understands the plain English of the text book, and learns and remembers the facts as they are presented to him, that is all that is essential to success. Diligent, persevering effort will of course be necessary, but there is no danger of going astray. If the student goes on at all he goes in the right direction.

This is by no means the case in the study of the classics. The student is not sure at first to perceive clearly the application of grammatical principles, for the study of language requires a clearer discrimination and a subtler analysis than any