by asking questions ourselves. We are told not to speak with the painful deliberation and distinctness customary in addressing the orally taught deaf, but to talk exactly as we should to a hearing child, for that is the kind of conversation the pupils have been accustomed to. Their speech is, for the most part, difficult to understand, but the lip-reading is truly marvellous. Their speaking vocabulary includes hundreds of words, and they understand many more on the lips, taking a new word with very little difficulty.

"Who are you, Nellie" (to a little five-year-old girl under instruction only a few months)?

"I am a sweet girl," she answers naively. "Who gave you your ring?"

"My brother, Willie."

"Do you love Willie?"

"Yes," is the emphatic response.

To another tiny one: "Show me your golden hair," and the little head is turned archly to one side so the light can fall on it. "But how do you teach them, it seems so marvellous," we exclaim.

"The plan is the simplest possible," says the principal. "We furnish a constant atmosphere of speech, not speech in which they have no part, nor even so much as a key (as is the case at home), but language simplified, and adapted and addressed to them. This is usually in connection with such objects or circumstances as will give a clue to the meaning. From our cheery 'good morning,' in response to the rap at our doors when they pass, to the good-night' on their way to bed, they are continually in easy, natural conversation. They are in the Training Nursery under competent instructors for five hours a day, but no attempt at formal teaching is made. It is simply an idealized home nursery, with pictures, blocks, toys, games, kindergarten devices, and appropriate conversation. Periods in the nursery vary from half an hour to an hour and a quarter, so that even in play the unconscious learners will not be wearied. There are no blackboards, nor wall slates. We follow the plan of the mother in teaching her babe speech long before it attempts written language. This is our aim; but, as many of the children now in attendance are past the minimum age, we are informally

teaching them to write, laying stress on speech rather than writing. Only a brief half hour a day is devoted to this lesson, with the older ones."

We are taken through the Training Nursery,—a series of bright, plain rooms, containing tiny chairs and the paraphernalia of childhood's realm. On the walls is a kind of composite homephotograph, including the various family likenesses, from Nellie's plump mamma to Willie's papa and Tommy's wee baby sister. This unique feature is a source of delight to the children, and serves to keep warm and bright the home affections. A dear little fellow was placed in the home by his grandfather. The boy carried the old gentleman's picture around with him for days, refusing to part with it for a moment, and pausing in his play, now and then, to kiss it.

It is needless to say, as much as possible is made of each child's home affairs, the papa and mamma of each being the friends of all in the little community, the purpose being to rivet the family tie which the long separation inevitably tends to loosen.

From the nursery, the children go into the hands of other teachers, who have charge of their bathing, sports, physical exercises, etc. All are imbued with the same spirit and pursue the same methods. It is easy to understand the tender tie that soon forms between the children and these foster-mothers lacking the real maternal relation, but far better prepared for its duties and responsibilities than the majority of mothers.

The children now return from their run in the Park, and presently troop, with vigorous appetites, into the dining-room. The animated scene, as far as possible from formal class work, is a representative lesson in language. The instruction is in progress all the time, though, to the hungry learners; it is what all teaching for little ones should be,- merely a gentle guidance of nature. The names of everything pertaining to the meal,— napkin, tablecloth, tray, knife, fork, spoon, etc.- are naturally introduced; and it is insisted that the children use them in expressing their wants. "Please give me some oatmeal, mush, orange, pudding," may sound like mere jargon at first; but the children are not permitted any other means of making requests, and the incentive to the use of language is so great that the attempt is made, drilled upon, and gradually perfected through use.

The orderly tumult in the dining-room is almost a din to us, but, of course, is not at all distracting to the little conversationists, as each talker is only conscious of what his vis-a-vis is saying. Although limited by the children's simple vocabulary, there are other things beside the wants of vigorous appetites expressed at table. Some one has been overlooked in the serving. "You forgot me," is the pouting plea; and she looks up for the penitent "I'm sorry."

"After a

"Pass the bread, Julia," says an attendant to a wee girl struggling with her knife and a piece of bread and butter. while," is the arch response.

There is a bit of good-natured teasing going on at one of the tables, and we hear a most emphatic cry of "stop."

One of the attendants, laying a nervous hand on the table after some unusual exertion, is greeted with: "Oh, my grandmother!"

"Well, you see what our plan is," says the principal, at last. "The key to the whole thing is imitation. The logic of it may not be apparent to some philosophical minds searching for a more scientific method, but would that we all might have the simple wisdom of a little cripple who was watching us when we had the children for a ten days' outing at Atlantic City.

"How do you suppose they got those dear children to learn to talk,' some one said.

"He replied: "Why, don't you see? They talk to them all the time; that's the way they learn to talk.'"

We leave the Home seriously pondering the question: Is this the solution of an educational problem of interest to all, but of such vital importance to unnumbered mothers and anxious relatives?

It is an experiment which has not yet passed sufficiently into past tenses to warrant us in pronouncing judgment. The work was begun three years ago, at the hands of Miss Emma Garrett, a lady of experience with the deaf in various capacities, and in whose mind the project had long been evolving itself. The Home remains as a monument to her memory; for the intense nervous strain, incident to her obtaining funds and support for her venture, exhausted her strength. In the hands of her sister, and former co-laborer, the work goes energetically forward.

As to its ultimate claims, viz: That by its means the deaf can be prepared for instruction in the public schools and, eventually, for complete restoration to society, it must remain, for a time, on the ground of the experimental. But many can speak for the immediate accomplishments in speech and lip-reading; and faith in the ultimate success of the experiment is growing as, one by one, results show themselves.

MILITARY EDUCATION IN COLLEGES.

LIEUT. JOHN K. CREE, U. S. ARMY, WASHINGTON, D. C.

Military education in colleges is advisable for two reasons: 1st. Its effect upon the young men taking the instruction. 2d. The necessity with all nations of having men trained in military knowledge who may be called on in time of war.

1st. The result, which is most immediately apparent when a young man undertakes a course of military instruction, is the improvement in the way in which he carries himself. The effect of a few years of drill, when a young man is between the ages of 12 and 20, will, in most cases, be apparent throughout his life. The sedentary life of the student needs something in the way of physical training to counterbalance it. This may, of course, be acquired in the gymnasium, but, unless physical exercise is compulsory, it is, as a rule, neglected by the great majority of students. I think that 10 per cent. is a large allowance for the students, in most colleges, who voluntarily take systematic exercise, or who take active part in athletic sports. Ordinary gymnastic exercise is more monotonous and more distasteful to the majority of the students, and lacks the incentive to excel which is found. in the promotions in military drill. If boys are especially interested in athletics, they are liable to carry it to an extreme, and neglect their studies to pursue their sports.

So far as systematic physical exercise is concerned, the "setting up exercises," when supplemented, as they may be at will, the manual of arms, the bayonet exercise and the marchings, furnish a system sufficiently comprehensive for all purposes. It is an acknowledged fact, that nations which have universal military service have also the men of the strongest constitutions. The physique of the French nation has noticeably improved since the law was adopted making military service compulsory.

There is no need of dwelling longer on the physical advantages of drill more than to say, that if military drill does no more than straighten up a young man and give him good chest capacity, it is worth all the time he devotes to it.

The young man, upon entering college, is, in the majority of cases, away from home and its influences for the first time. He feels free from restraint, and, taking advantage of his freedom, grows to think that he is his own master, and often ignores, to a certain extent, his relation and his duty towards his associates and the community. Students often graduate from college with an exaggerated idea of themselves, and a false idea of their relations to other citizens. They soon find, however, that they must, for a time at least, be subordinate in whatever profession they may follow; and, if young men wait until they are taught this subordination by experience in business life, the lesson may be a very bitter one.

Military training inculcates subordination. In a properly conducted course of military instruction, young men are taught that rules and regulations are for the common good, and are made to be obeyed, and that their infraction is followed by punishment. Young men are thereby made better citizens, and the demoralizing influence of college life, in that regard, may be counteracted.

There is, however, another fault, in contradistinction to selfconceit, into which young men are liable to fall, and that is lack of confidence in their own powers. If one does not have confidence in himself, he is very liable to find that no one else will either. The men who succeed in this age are those who push their way and claim all they are entitled to. No where else in the world is it more true than in the United States, that success comes to those who work for and deserve it. It may be fairly claimed, that the self-confidence which is acquired by commanding others, after two or three years of military subordination and discipline, is of a commendable character, and is not liable to degenerate into "cheekiness."

Punctuality, neatness, obedience, courtesy, confidence in one's own ability, respect for and subordination to authority, manliness, all are qualities which aid in the struggle for success; and in no other manner are they inculcated to such a degree as by proper military training.

American youths are, as a rule, brought up believing firmly in the saying," all men are equal." In a certain sense, this may be true. They may be equal before the law. One man's vote in an election is as good as another's; and the boy who drives