member of the faculty, being one of the inner circle known as the "university council." A student arrested by the municipal police has to be released, and the case reported to the university authorities. If the student is convicted in the university court, he is sentenced to a longer or shorter term in the university carcer or prison. This is a regular institution in any German university, of which an excellent illustration can be had in the modern views of the student prison located in the attic of the old building at the University of Heidelberg. It seems to be generally regarded as a mark of notoriety and a coveted experience by students to be immured at some time during their scholastic career in the university carcer. Even the crown prince is said to have graced (or disgraced) the prison at the University of Bonn. Each student customarily leaves his photograph in a species of rogues' gallery on the wall of the prison, to prove that he has attained this distinction. Cartoons of the professors, too, apparently occupied the time of some students during their period of retirement.

Besides special protection and autonomy, the medieval students were granted numerous other privileges. They were relieved from taxation of all sorts, and, except in case of an armed invasion of the country, they were exempt from military service. The universities were also given the right of licensing their graduates to teach anywhere without further examination (jus ubique docendi), and the right of "striking" (cessatio) or suspending lectures, whenever they felt that their prerogatives or privileges had been infringed. In the latter case, unless their wrongs were at once redressed, the suspension was followed by migration of the entire university body to some other town and possibly country. And a "strike" could easily be engineered in medieval days when the universities did not have any buildings of their own and there was no need of expensive libraries, laboratories, and other equipment. The students had simply to gather up their professors and go rent some buildings elsewhere. Sometimes the king of another country would issue a special invitation to a "striking" university, to coax the students to his land. Thus the University of Oxford in

1229 met with its most substantial increase through King Henry III, who promised the striking students of Paris:

"If it shall be your pleasure to transfer yourselves to our kingdom of England and to remain there to study, we will for this purpose assign to you cities, boroughs, towns, whatsoever you may desire to select, and in every fitting way will cause you to rejoice in a state of liberty and tranquillity."

The main motive for these extraordinary privileges granted to the medieval universities seems to have been the same material one that often animates a city or state today in undertaking to lure a college or university into its midst. Such an institution proved ground for distinction and a source of considerable revenue to a town or a country. Naturally every effort and inducement were used to build up and encourage a university, and the country was most reluctant to lose the institution when once started. If a strike arose, they hastened to mollify the enraged students and keep them from migrating, although their conduct was often difficult to endure and many complications arose in winning them back, when once they had gone on a strike. Realizing their position of vantage, the students became exceedingly independent and impudent, and their liberties soon degenerated into recklessness and license. They seem to have become both dissipated and quarrelsome. Clashes with the townspeople, known as "town and gown riots," were not uncommon. In these disorders the king, not wishing to lose his university, usually took the side of the students, and often punished severely and unjustly the tradespeople or even the police who had ventured to interfere with the pranks, whims, or lawlessness of the students. By the charter of Philip Augustus issued to the University of Paris in 1200, all citizens who saw any one striking a student were required to seize the offender and deliver him to the judge. In 1440 the police sergeants of the same city were obliged by the king to apologize to the students of the University of Paris for an alleged violation of their privileges. A tablet, commemorating this apology of the police for interfering with students, was made in 1440, and is now in the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris.

It is obvious that university life has never from the beginning had good traditions in discipline, and it is not surprising that the students of the present day often regard themselves as being a law unto themselves. Unfortunately the authorities have until recently regarded them as a specially privileged class and have connived at offences that would be stamped as crimes if committed by any save these apostolic successors of medieval roysterers. During my undergraduate days at one of the largest American universities it was customary for the students on "triumph" nights to march through the streets of the city clad in robes-de-nuit and plug hats, and carrying torches. Street-cars were invaded, fares rung up, oil spilt on the passengers' clothing, omnibuses upset, and over-ripe eggs thrown at the policemen. And yet little or nothing was done to check this lawlessness, because it was the students and they had always been allowed these "innocent" pastimes. Times have somewhat improved, but we occasionally read in the newspapers today of the same appeal to medieval traditions being still made at various universities in this "land of the free." Happily a new theory of university discipline is arising in the West to supplant that of the Middle Ages. It is held that universities exist for the sake of the state, and that it is a poor service to bring students up in lawlessness. At many Western universities misdemeanors are coming to be treated in exactly the same way, whether committed by students or others, and proper preparation for citizenship is held to be the most important function of a university.

The freedom and license of the medieval university are best illustrated by the wild life of the so-called scholares vagantes ("wandering students"). These groups were able to secure social approval for their migratory habits through the example of the orders of friars, who began their noble work in preaching and teaching during the thirteenth century. With quite a different purpose, these students begged their way, like the friars, as they wandered from university to university. They became rollicking, shiftless, pilfering, and even vicious, and many found the life so attractive that they made it permanent

and organized a mock "order" known as Goliardi, with Goliath, the Philistine giant, as their professed patron saint. A woodcut still extant depicts a group of these begging students from Nuremberg in 1669. The baskets upon their backs, which were used as receptacles for food, show the figure of Goliath upon them. The one compensating feature of this degeneracy was the production of jovial Latin and German songs to voice their frank appreciation of forbidden pleasures, and their protest against restraint. Various collections of these songs have come down to us, and lineal descendants or even the original verses themselves are in many instances used by the present generation of students both in Europe and America.

The training of these early universities was carried on by a twofold method. It consisted in (1) the acquisition of subject matter through lectures and in (2) debates. The lectures included reading and explaining the text book under consideration by the teacher. This method was rendered necessary by the scarcity of manuscripts, which had to be used until the invention of printing, and the difficulty in purchasing or renting copies of them. The master must often have had to repeat the passage several times in order that all might grasp it, and he ordinarily read slowly enough for the student to treat his commentary as a dictation. There was no investigation, but simply a slavish following of the text and lecture. The whole exercise was carried on in Latin, which had to be learned by the student before coming to the university. A variety of woodcuts, bas reliefs, and miniatures of the thirteenth and later centuries furnish us with some idea of the class-rooms, teachers, and lecture methods of these early universities. Among these we find Lecco Sinbaldi lecturing upon law at Bologna; Henry of Germany addressing a class in theology at Paris; a lecture in the faculty of theology at the same institution more than a century later, displaying the "bedells" with their badge of office; a lecture on medicine at an Italian university about the same period; a young lecturer on arts of the same century; Thomas Aquinas expounding Aristotle to a class of arts students; a French professor giving a lecture with much more

ornate accessories-robe, cap, canopy, lantern, books, and inkwell; and finally a woman professor, Laura Maria Caterina Bassi, who was permitted to lecture at the University of Bologna.

A great difference in the lecture methods of the universities must have been caused after the middle of the fifteenth century by the invention of printing. Within the next hundred years the number of books multiplied a thousandfold. Before long the universities all had libraries of good size, and it must have been somewhat easier for students to obtain copies of the various texts. Despite this, the university libraries felt it necessary to chain their books. This feature and the method of using the books by the students are indicated in the wellknown view of the library at the University of Leyden in the sixteenth century. The classification of the books there is

also of interest.

The other training, that which came through debate, was the makeshift of the times for laboratory methods. It compelled the students to impress upon their minds and make application of the knowledge they had acquired in the lectures, as the arguments were always founded upon a reference to the authorities, especially Aristotle. The debates consisted of formal disputations, in which one student, or group of students, was pitted against another. Sometimes a single person might exercise himself by arguing both sides of the question, and coming to a decision for one side or the other. This debating was also instituted to afford some acuteness and vigor of intellect, and, compared with the memorizing of lectures as a method, it served its purpose well. If we glance at an existing wood-cut of a medieval debate, we can easily discern the procedure. The two principals appear under canopies upon platforms, and both they and the students standing below them are counting off the arguments upon their fingers. The figure seated above and in the center is the presiding officer, who summed up the disputation and announced the decision. When the student was able to perform the final art of "determining" as well as disputing, he was ready for graduation. This