tain college has been most successfully conducted by the Socratic method in the study of American constitutional history. This course is recognized by the students as one of the most difficult but one of the most valuable courses open to juniors and seniors only, and it has been chosen by more students each year. If possible such large classes should be divided up into sections, but the success of this course shows that the discussion method is much better than the lecture method, even for so large a class. The argument that the numbers taking history render necessary classes too large to be taught except by the lecture method is not a strong one. In some colleges more men take English, economics and other subjects than take history, but there are fewer lecture courses in these subjects than in history. The truth is that, if history departments faced the question squarely and realized how futile. lecture courses are, they would provide enough instructors to conduct all courses by the discussion method.

Another claim for the system of large classes conducted by lecture is that this plan enables freshmen and sophomores to to take courses under the leading men in the department. It would be more accurate to say that such courses enable underclassmen to listen to lectures by these more prominent teachers in the department, for generally the papers are graded and the quizzes and conferences conducted by assistants selected from the graduate students. A student in the course can, by making a special effort and awaiting his turn after class, ask questions of the lecturer, but this is not encouraged. So most of the stimulation from the lecturer must come through the lectures. Too great a price is paid for this advantage. It would be better to give some small credit for merely attending regularly courses conducted by these more experienced and busier teachers. This would introduce students to the viewpoint of the leading teacher, and those taking large lecture courses get little more from their slight contact with the lecturer.

Lecturing is easier for the teacher, cultivates his power of expression, and may develop him into a good public speaker— and it is very well worth while in any position in life to be a good speaker. Lecture courses are much easier for the average student because he is constantly having the subject ex

plained to him and consequently has little work to do for himself. He is given predigested material and ready-made conclusions, and his part is to hand back material and conclusions as nearly as possible as they come to him. This dogmatic, tutorial, memorizing method of instruction is sometimes made difficult by great particularity in the demands of the instructors but even then it merely serves to cultivate the memorizing faculty and leaves untrained the higher reasoning faculties. Courses conducted by the discussion method may, and often do, degenerate into the stuffing and memorizing of the teacher's dogmatic conclusions. These may keep the students awake in class more surely than lecture courses but they have little, if any, more educational value.

For the student who wishes really to train his mind and to make high records, lecture courses are uncertain and unsatisfactory. He has to depend more or less on his notes instead of having the material in exact, printed form. Few lecturers are as careful and accurate in lecturing as they would be in writing, so the industrious student has to suffer from the inaccuracies of the lecturer and from the inadequacy of notes taken on what was actually said. Furthermore such students suffer even more than the other less active ones from the lack of the chance to work over with the instructor the material in the course. The conscientious student finds himself embarrassed by the mass of partly unrelated information he gets from his reading and from the lectures, and what he needs and wants is to debate this with other able students and with the instructor until, under the stimulus of mind by mind, the knowledge becomes arranged and interwoven as a part of his mental make-up.

Professor Karl Pearson, after teaching applied mathematics to engineers for sixteen years, could speak thus:13 "The object of any technical education paid for by the state or the municipality should be the exercise of brain-power, mental gymnastics in the best sense, it should treat of the science and not the art of the trade. Such education-education, remember, means literally a drawing out, not a cramming in-ought to act as a brain-stretcher and not attempt to communicate

13 National Life from the Standpoint of Science, 32-3.

mere trade knowledge. When technical education acts as a brain-stretcher, then this increased efficiency tells not only on the trade occupations, but on the social and civic life of the educated; the nation is thereby strengthening the reserve of trained brains upon which it can draw in a crisis for all sorts of other functions than those of a narrow trade. Brain-stretching fosters an adaptability to new environments. This is something very different to a more complete knowledge of trade processes or to proficiency in a special handicraft. This is a form of education for which the nation may legitimately pay; it is that which is essential to it in the struggle for existence."

These words were spoken in the midst of the national taking of stock in England under the humiliation of the Boer War. The United States now faces a much greater problem and the American people are beginning to realize how ill-prepared they are to do their part in the World War. In the soulsearching that should be, and is, taking place none should question themselves more rigidly than educators, than those whose business it has been, and is, to lay up for the nation that "reserve of trained brains upon which it can draw in a crisis." Has our educational system been effective in producing the brain-power now so much needed by our country? Have we teachers of history been stimulating in our students as much as possible of "the exercise of brain power," of the "mental gymnastics in the best sense," that Professor Pearson thinks ought to be the end and aim of even technical education? Have we used the "drawing out" process, or the "cramming in" process? Is history as usually taught, made "to act as a brain-stretcher?" If it is not serving such a purpose, then teachers of history are not doing their full duty.

The true purpose of all education is, as Professor Pearson said, to develop the scientific powers and habits that will enable a man to learn quickly, to investigate any subject, and to adapt his abilities to any problem before him. Are either undergraduate or graduate courses in any subject planned in most colleges and universities with this as the primary aim? An able graduate student was lately heard to say, "Most graduate courses give little that is worth while except a bibliography. By working a day or two in the library, I can find

the books for myself, and, after that, I can get from the books about all that the instructor has to give in his lectures and more besides. Five courses out of six merely waste one's time." This is less true for graduate students not so well prepared or so able as this one, but lecture courses for graduates as well as undergraduates are, at best, poor makeshifts for real educative training.

To summarize, then, (1) undergraduates are not usually given enough prescribed reading either in lecture or in discussion courses in history; (2) sources are used too much as mere flavoring and not enough as one of the main parts of the intellectual diet; (3) the most important function of undergraduate or graduate history courses is, not to pile up facts in the student's memory, but to train and develop his reasoning powers, to give him independence, originality, judgment, adaptability; (4) the lecture method does not accomplish these purposes as well as the class discussion method, nor does it help the student to acquire as many facts; lecture courses leave students too much in the position of observers, give them too little work to do, generally bore them, are lacking in the constant criticism, guidance and practice in dealing with materials, so much needed by all students, act not as "drawing out" but as "cramming in" processes, do not serve much as "brain-stretcher" but rather "attempt to communicate mere trade (history) knowledge." Finally, the writer is absolutely convinced, from experience and observation, that the lecture method, in history or in any other subject, does not even approximate the real object of education, and that courses conducted chiefly or entirely by lectures have little legitimate place in a college or university curriculum.

A Floridian Poet*

BY FRANCIS TAYLOR LONG

Professor of English in Southern College, Sutherland, Florida

Florida, when compared with the states that are better known for both their past and their present contributions to American literature, has but slight claim to recognition as regards its writers. The progress of the state in letters has been hindered by its tardy commercial development. Progress in trade alone is not sufficient to insure literary expression, but it affords a basis for it by giving the leisure that men of letters need in order to pursue their work effectively. Yet it is gratifying to observe that Florida is beginning to manifest its identity in the production of literature, especially in verse. Until comparatively recent years there were practically no native Floridian writers of poetry. Before the advent of a group of native poets there had been poets from other states who had visited Florida and had been thrilled by its beauty and mystery. Among the most prominent of these were Sidney Lanier, a native of Georgia; Madison Cawein, a Kentuckian; Walter Malone, who was born in Mississippi, and Maurice Thompson, of Indiana. It is, then, only in the last decade or two that there have arisen such poets as Mr. Henry G. Barnett, Miss Anne McQueen, and others. These writers are in reality native Floridian poets.

As interesting as may be the work of other contemporary writers of verse, it is the aim of this paper to deal chiefly with the poetry of Mr. Henry G. Barnett, whose first published volume entitles him to careful and thoughtful consideration as a representative of the Floridian poets of today.

A summary of the facts of the poet's life is of interest as a preface to a consideration of his work. Henry Green Barnett was born in Leesburg, Florida, December 13, 1890. His father, Robert H. Barnett, also a native of Florida, is a Methodist minister of the Florida Conference. His mother, who was Miss Sarah Epperson, was born in Georgia.

Mr.

The Roof of the World. By Henry G. Barnett. Smith and Lamar, Nash

ville, Tenn. $1.00.