THE COLLEGE COURSE. 203 



utmost use not to himself only, but to his fellows also. It asserted that 

 a man must earn the right to live by being of service, and denied that 

 training along the prevalent narrow lines was education in the proper 

 sense. It ridiculed the pretensions of a system which boasted of its 

 success in producing men whose scholarship was proved by volumes 

 filled with quotations illustrating the use of Latin or Greek particles; 

 it demanded a training which should develop all sides of the man and 

 fit him for the exigencies of active life as contrasted with that of the 

 cloister. 



Efliorts made in our country sixty years ago to remodel the curri- 

 culum so as to satisfy both sides are spoken of as absurd, because they 

 were not radical. They were not absurd; they were the first steps 

 along an untried way. Educational institutions were controlled by 

 medievalists, and the doctrine was ingrained that instruction belonged 

 to the province of the christian minister as much as did the pulpit ; the 

 whole system had grown up under the requirements of the church and 

 under the limitations permitted by the church; so that, in considering 

 the change, those in charge found themselves at a loss. Their Latin 

 was no longer a 'modern' language, it was no longer the common 

 tongue of learned men; Greek, at best, had been only a luxury. The 

 study of material things, having led men to doubt respecting some 

 matters of religious belief which had come down without challenge 

 from antiquity, was tainted with suspicion of sacrilege; of its true 

 nature they were wholly ignorant. The best that could be done was 

 done; within college walls, the classical languages gradually ceased to 

 be living languages, came to be regarded as dead languages, their words 

 were used as medium for teaching a kind of universal grammar, and the 

 average student, after spending a round dozen of years in the so- 

 called study of Latin, thought himself uncommonly accomplished if 

 he were able to read his diploma without resort to a lexicon or grammar. 

 The course leading up to the degree, for there was but one degree, was 

 broadened gradually so as to embrace additional subjects. But until 

 fifty years ago it consisted in most colleges of linguistics, that is to say, 

 Latin and Greek with practical neglect of English, a notable amount 

 of pure mathematics, a medley of courses in history and philosophy, 

 with a trifle of natural science. In some institutions, additional 

 branches were inserted, the courses were differentiated and a new degree 

 was granted to those who, neglecting the classical languages, had taken 

 instead modern languages and somewhat extended work in natural 

 science. 



The concessions to the claims of natural science were made grudg- 

 ingly; the study of nature was looked upon by 'educated' men gener- 

 ally as a rather low-lived pursuit, not to be encouraged, as it led men 

 away from man, 'man's noblest study.' But there were those who felt 



