18703 Instruction in English 



urged me to become a chemist; of Physics but 

 little, however, as the instruction in the latter 

 branch was discouragingly bad, one teacher being 

 trivial and noisy, his successor as dry as a 

 bone. 



In the English Literature courses I enjoyed the 

 fine and sympathetic readings of Hiram Corson, but 

 systematic instruction had failed to "strike its 

 gait." As to that, I well remember the very first 

 lecture I heard at Cornell. This was by Corson's 

 predecessor, Colonel Homer B. Sprague, then an 

 ambitious young man with a fine war record and the 

 special glory of having escaped from Libby Prison. 

 Sprague began, " James Thomson was born at 

 Ednam, near Kelso on the river Tweed in Rox- 

 burgh County, Scotland," continuing with further 

 details which we faithfully noted down. We soon 

 learned, however, that all such matters were to be 

 found in the handy compendium from which they 

 were probably gleaned. 



Another of Sprague's courses, it is only fair to say, 

 was more illuminating. It dealt with word roots 

 which we had to dig out for ourselves. Our first 

 task dealt with the sentence, "We do not expect 

 savage sarcasm from the apostles." 



As to drill in writing English, I got no help 

 from classwork, the instructors being men who 

 had little worth saying, and said that little mechan- 

 ically. 



The three and a half years I passed at Cornell 

 exerted a controlling influence over my whole 

 subsequent career. My friendship with President 

 White afterward opened the door to the experiences 



