they may some day fling the classics almost entirely

overboard.

Such a statement may, perhaps, seem to many intemperate and foolish, because the best work done in public schools at the present time is beyond question classical, and the results achieved in the higher forms seem rather to suggest confidence than doubt. But the real issue does not concern the higher forms. In them it is always possible to specialise," and by some boys with distinct literary tastes the classics will always be studied simply because no real literary training is possible without them. It is the position of the classics in the lower forms and as a part of general education that is being steadily undermined, as no one can doubt who considers the continual growth of " Army classes" and "Modern sides," or who reflects how Greek has disappeared, and how Latin is rapidly disappearing from our Grammar schools. The conditions, in fact, under which classical study can now be retained, except as a special study, are wholly altered. Other subjects persistently and rightly claim to share its monopoly of privilege. Mathematics, science, modern languages, and a dozen odds and ends of soldiering, singing, drawing, and the like all now demand a certain amount of time, while the classical master is expected to give more attention than formerly to divinity, history, geography, and English. And yet under these new conditions, which absolutely demand new methods, classics continue to be taught exactly in the same way, with an attempt at the same accuracy and thoroughness that was, perhaps, possible when little else was taught, but which now can only produce bewilderment and confusion.

Think, for instance, of teaching an ordinary lad not merely many other things, but also the rules of Greek, Latin, and French grammar at one and the

same time! Happily English boys have a sturdy power of resisting excessive mental worry, or the result of such teaching would be to fill asylums, while, in fact, it often creates an unnatural loathing for all literature, and there is at least this to be said for "Modern sides" that in them the number of studies which perplex our youth is reduced by two. Indeed a drastic reduction in the multitude of things which a boy is compelled to learn is just now the reform most needed in education. A boy's brain is not, any more than his stomach, capable of all things. His mental like his physical digestion does best on simple diet. About two solid courses, supplemented by some trifles that suit his taste, would most promote his health and vigour. But the solid courses need not be made too heavy and repugnant, and the Classical Association has recently put forward a proposal with a view to lightening and improving classical study, which deserves at least very full consideration. Holding that such study is an integral part of a liberal education, it suggests that the old method of teaching Latin fully, both from a linguistic and a literary point of view, should be retained, but that in Greek, at least in lower forms, it is desirable largely to put aside grammar and composition, so as to aim chiefly at attaining some power of appreciating its literature. Much time would thus be saved, for the power to read a language with interest can be acquired far more quickly than the power to use it with even moderate accuracy, and provided that Latin, which is a perfect instrument of linguistic discipline, be learned carefully, there can be no reason why the study of Greek should not be pursued in a less rigorous and more attractive manner,

The distinction of the best Greek literature is its great simplicity, and, by disregarding technicalities, an ordinary boy might quickly be taught to under

stand and even enjoy large portions of such writers, say, as Homer, Herodotus, Sophocles, and even Plato. Or take the Greek Testament. The whole of the Gospels and the noblest passages of St. Paul can be read in the original with only the scantiest outfit of Greek grammar; and can any knowledge be better worth having than that which such reading can convey? Is it not comparable with that learning which is concerned with obscure duals or the fine perplexities of a hypothetical sentence? Or could there be a better service to letters, to morals, and to religion than to give boys a living and intelligent interest in the actual documents which bring us most closely face to face with the origin and teaching of Christianity? That such a result is now attained with ordinary boys can hardly be asserted, but it certainly might be attained if time were devoted rather to the realities than to the accidents of Greek literature, and until the teaching of Greek can be submitted successfully to some such test its claim still to rank as a necessary part of higher education not only must be, but perhaps ought to be, held unproved. Whatever be the future of Latin, the survival of Greek certainly depends on its study being made more living and fruitful than it now is. The suggestion of the Classical Association undoubtedly holds out some hope of really making it so, and those who control our great schools will therefore, if they are wise, give that suggestion a fair, full, and immediate trial.

The issue indeed is not a trivial one, for not only the credit of our great schools but also the real welfare of higher education is intimately bound up with the maintenance of classical studies. They form the one bulwark against that purely utilitarian tendency which depreciates every study that has no practical value, which objects even to mathematics and science unless they are "applied," and which

prefers a conversational novel to the great French classics, or counts Luther's version of the Bible of little account in comparison with "commercial German."

Indeed, it is no paradox to say that educational value of classical study consists largely in the fact that it is what the world calls "useless," so that there is no temptation to subordinate it to unworthy aims; while, on the other hand, its true usefulness is beyond question. For the difference between a modern and an ancient tongue is often so great that for a boy to make out the meaning of a simple Latin passage, and still more to write even the shabbiest bit of Latin prose, requires something beyond mere memory and imitation, demanding as it does a real active and originative mental effort. The learner cannot remain wholly passive or receptive. He must. do or contribute something of his own, and it is in encouraging this habit, in developing latent power into living energy, that the secret of true education. lies. The positive results immediately secured often appear poor, but the process itself is of the highest value, and those who sneer at it as mental gymnastics" forget that it is as necessary to mental health as exercise is to physical, while when they proceed to deride the classsics as "dead" languages they do plain violence to fact. For who can say that Greek and Latin are in any true sense dead? In literature and art, in science and philosophy, in all that concerns law, social order, and the principles of government, we are connected in an unbroken and living union with Greece and Rome. Their history is an organic part of our own, their words breathe on our lips, their thoughts are wrought into the tissue of our intellectual being; and the public schools, ever since their foundation, have wisely maintained. the principle that learning cannot be separated from its source; nor is their record as makers of men so

poor that they need timorously put aside this good tradition in obedience to popular clamour.

But however sound the principle, its application is beyond question no longer free from great difficulty. There are far too many boys in whose case classical study does, indeed, provide a valuable discipline, but yet fails to secure that acquaintance with classical life and literature which is equally desirable. The fact is certain, and it makes the outlook gloomy and even threatening, not because the difficulty is beyond remedy-for by discarding many things that are superfluous, by greater definiteness of aim, and by more living methods of teaching much might assuredly be effected-but because, either through indifference or incapacity, those who hold authority in schools make no real effort to deal with what is, in fact, a critical situation. Governing bodies, for the most part, regard educational questions in the spirit of Gallio; head masters are everywhere too "cumbered about much serving" to pay attention to real needs, and their Conference, which might have been almost a supreme Court for higher education, has for forty years been contented to debate and dine. Without any regard to reason, without any reference to principle, classical study is simply being jostled out of its place, while no attempt is made carefully to consider how its scope and methods can be adjusted to modern require

ments.

And yet such adjustment is beyond question imperative. The world is not what it was; the thoughts of men range more widely; their lives are governed by more complex influences; other and more varied capacities are required in the struggle for existence, and classical study must, like everything else, accommodate itself to a changed environment. That is the condition of its survival, not, indeed, as an exotic to be cultivated here and there