proud consolation of Kipling's galley slave, "God be thanked, whate'er comes after, I have lived and toiled with men." The teacher needs to know life at first hand; for a few weeks at least to leave the cloister, and mingle with the crowd. She needs to see the child from the point of view of the mother, and to get some glimpse of that world of struggle and strife into which her charges are to enter. Truth is many sided. Must the teacher be condemned merely to enlarge her own little peephole, and never to get another point of view? Far better for her a few months of travel than the best summer course) The result is at once physical refreshment and mental awaken ing, though here again its fruits would be hard to embody in an examination paper.

An historical habit of mind leads one to inquire what grounds for faith in the examination system are to be found in the lives of great teachers of the past. Did Socrates submit himself to examination? Yes, once. And if Plato is to be believed, he died rather than take the verdict seriously. He claimed, presumptuous man, that for his services to the state he deserved to be supported at public expense for the rest of his life. Dr. Thomas Arnold, perhaps the most famous teacher in the English-speaking world, in summing up the requirements for a master at Rugby, said, "He should have sufficient vigor of mind and thirst for knowledge to persist in adding to his own stores without neglecting the full improvement of those whom he is teaching." No less clearly, however, did he express his distrust of examinations as any fair test of worth or ability. In a letter to a pupil who had failed in a university examination, he wrote: "I believe I attach quite as much value as is reasonable to university distinctions; but it would be a grievous evil if the good of a man's reading for three years were all to depend on the result of a single examination, affected as that result must ever in some degree be by causes independent of a man's intellectual excellence. I can only say, for one, that as far as the real honor of Rugby is concerned, it is the effort, one hundred times more than the issue of the effort that is in my judgment a credit to the school, inasmuch as it shows that the men who go from here to the university do their duty there;

and that is the real point, which alone to my mind reflects honor either on individuals or on societies."

Or we may hark back a thousand years and more to the venerable Bede, "father of English history," and foremost among early English teachers. The records are silent as to any

All

definite tests of his power, but one incident in his life gives all that it is necessary to know as to the spirit and quality of his teaching. The scene is the old monastery of Weremouth and Jarrow. The students are sitting in sorrow, for the master lies at the point of death. They can still hear his voice, though with many a pause, dictating his last book for their use. is finished but one chapter, and the bystanders remonstrate that he is overtaxing his strength. What is the motive that keeps that feeble voice to its task in the face of death itself? I don't want my boys to read a lie, and work to no purpose after I am gone." Reverence for the truth, and love for the boy; these are the essential characteristics of true teachers in all lands and in every age. Without them no outside pressure can make even a good imitation. Given these qualities, no other incentive is needed to spur to the highest endeavor those who would find a place in that goodly company.

""

Glimpses into the Schools of Hamburg,

Germany

WILLIAM C. RUEDIGER, PH.D., THE GEORGE WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY,
WASHINGTON, D. C.

N the United States one is free, with a few exceptions, to visit the public schools anywhere and at any time at his own pleasure. But this is not true in Europe. There one finds restrictions of all degrees of complexity. In Prussia, for example, one must come prepared with a letter from the United States Commissioner of Education, which must be submitted to the central authority, the minister of education, before permission to visit the schools is received. Other German states, however, are less exacting. All that is necessary in most of them is to get a permit from the highest school officer, usually the president of the school trustees. This officer is an active school man, and corresponds in function more nearly to our school superintendent than to the president of the school trustees. A letter of introduction is helpful, but not necessary.

I took with me from this country a general letter of introduction to German school authorities, granted me by Dean Russell, of Teachers College, Columbia University. This letter I presented to the school authorities at Hamburg. One official granted me written permission to visit a certain definitely specified Realschule, and another, to visit a Volkschule and a Lehrer Seminar or Normal School, both of which were again definitely specified. I was asked in each case just which school I desired to visit, and the permit was then addressed to the head of the school, who, in consequence, felt a definite responsibility to assist me. There was no restriction in the number of schools I could visit, and I understand that I could have obtained a general permission had I requested one.

The sessions in all the schools I visited are held on six days of the week. They begin at 8 or 8.30, and continue till 1 or

1.30, except on Wednesdays and Saturdays, when they continue one hour longer. The recitation period is called "an hour." It is forty-five or fifty minutes in length, and is always followed by a pause of ten or fifteen minutes, which fills up the remainder of the hour. This is uniform in all the classes, from the primary grade to the senior class in the Seminar, and it extends also to the university. The pause is actually a recess, and the pupils spend the time on the playground. During the pause coming nearest the middle of the session the pupils as well as the teachers eat a lunch.

The first school I visited was the Realschule, in Eilbeck, a "ward" of Hamburg. This, like all the schools I visited, was for the male sex only. The school contained nine classes, three in the Vorschule or preparatory department, and six in the Realschule. The pupils in the lowest class averaged six and two-thirds years of age, while those in the highest averaged sixteen and one-half years.

I arrived at the school at ten minutes to eight, and when I inquired for the director (principal) I was told that he would arrive at two minutes before eight. He did arrive at two minutes before eight both mornings I was at the school.

While I was waiting the pupils were entering, and were congregating at their classrooms. Here they were by themselves, no teacher being in charge. Their conversation became quite animated at times, and I made it a point unexpectedly to look into a number of the rooms, but I never saw anything that could be called disorderly. No doubt this would not always be true, but the conduct of the boys, from the smallest to the largest, gave me the impression that they were bearing their own responsibilities, and that they were equal to the task. They looked around when I appeared in the doorway, but immediately went on with what they were engaged. There were also no teachers doing duty in the hallways.

Dr. Zschech, the director, proved to be an elderly man, extremely dignified and courteous. When he appeared in the doorway all the boys that saw him ran to greet him. This they did by giving their hand, and making a small bow. I had frequently heard of the rigid discipline and training of the

German schools, and at once concluded that here was an example of it, that these boys were obliged to greet their teacher in this manner. But I soon discovered my mistake. On closer observation I saw that the boys were pleased to see their teacher, and that the greeting was spontaneous. They met as parent and respectful children.

In this school I visited the opening exercises (Andacht), recitations in geography-history and in English, and the biological museum and laboratory. Andacht was held in the general assembly room, and came at eight o'clock, lasting scarcely ten minutes. It was a religious exercise, and consisted of the reading of a passage from the Scriptures by one of the teachers, and the singing of a hymn by the school. After the exercises the pupils went informally to their class

rooms.

This informality should be noticed in passing. It caught my attention in all the schools I visited. In passing through the halls, and up and down the stairways the boys talked freely among themselves, and were not obliged to keep step. There was an air of freedom seldom found in American schools, and with it all there went a genuine orderliness.

Dr. Zschech heard one recitation a day in the senior class, the subject alternating between geography and history. His class came the first period, and I gladly accepted his invitation to visit it. The topic for the day was the geography of Austria, but it was not held to. In its place Dr. Zschech gave the class a general oral review, touching the main points of German history. This he did, as he afterward explained, to give me an impression of the extent and accuracy of the class's knowledge.

As my visit had not been previously announced, the class did not expect the review, which gave me a fair exhibition of their knowledge. The boys recited well, but their knowledge was not infallible. The recitation throughout was characterized by thoughtfulness, indicating teaching of the rational rather than of the memoritor type. In my own mind I compared the students with high school seniors, with whom they seemed to be nearly on par in mental maturity.