AMERICAN QUARTERLY REVIEW.

No. XVIII.

JUNE, 1831.

Art. I.—COLLEGE-INSTRUCTION AND DISCIPLINE.

1.—Journal of the Proceedings of a Convention of Literary and Scientific Gentlemen, held in the Common Council Chamber of the City of New-York. October, 1830. New-York: pp. 286. 8vo.

2.—Catechism of Education, Part 1st, &c. By William Lyon Mackenzie. Member of the Parliament of Upper Canada. York: 1830. pp. 46. 8vo.

3.—Address of the State Convention of Teachers and Friends of Education, held at Utica. January 12th, 13th, and 14th, 1831. With an Abstract of the Proceedings of said Convention. Utica: 1831. pp. 16. 8vo.

4.—Oration on the advantages to be derived from the Introduction of the Bible and of Sacred Literature as essential parts of all Education, in a literary point of view merely, from the Primary Schools to the University: delivered before the Connecticut Alpha of the ΦΒΚ Society. On Tuesday, September 7th, 1830. By Thomas Smith Grimke, of Charleston, S. C. New-Haven: 1830. pp. 76. 8vo.

5.—Lecture on Scientific Education, delivered Saturday, December 18th, 1830, before the Members of the Franklin Institute. By James R. Leib, A. M. Philadelphia: 1831. pp. 16. 8vo.

The subject of practical education has always been one of intense interest with every reflecting individual in this Union. It is a universally received axiom, that the foundation of a republic must be in the information of its people; and that whilst the monarchical governments of other countries may be successfully administered by an oligarchy of intelligence, a government like our own cannot be carried on without an extensive diffusion of knowledge amongst those who have to select its very machinery. The political circumstances of a country will also modify, most importantly, the course of instruction; and that system which is adopted in the old Universities of Oxford, Cambridge, and Dublin, in a nation in which the law of primogeniture exists, where wealth is entailed in families, and where the colleges themselves are richly endowed, may be impracticable or impolitic in a country not possessing such incentives. Education must, therefore, be suited to the country; and a long period must elapse before we can expect to have individuals as well educated as in those universities, although the mass of our community may be much more enlightened. We have no benefices, no fellowships with fixed stipends, to offer for those who may devote themselves to the profound study of certain subjects. In England and Ireland, it is by no means uncommon for a student to remain at college until he is twenty-two or twenty-three years of age, in the acquisition of his preliminary education, or of those branches that are made to precede a professional course of study—the whole period of his academic residence being consumed in the study of these departments. In this country, such a course would be as unadvisable as it is generally impracticable. The equal division of property precludes any extensive accumulation of wealth in families. The youth are compelled to launch early into life: the more useful subjects of study have to be selected, and the remainder are postponed as luxuries, to be acquired should opportunity admit of indulgence.

In no country are the colleges or higher schools so numerous, in proportion to the population, as in the United States.

In France there are three universities; in Italy, eight; in Great Britain, eight; in Germany, twenty-two; and in Russia, seven: whilst in the United States, we have thirteen institutions bearing the title of universities, and thirty-three that of colleges; making in all forty-six higher schools capable of conferring degrees: yet a very wrong inference would be drawn, were we to affirm that the education of a nation is always in a direct ratio with the number of its higher schools. Such would be the fact, did these institutions assume an elevated standard in the distribution of their highest honours, and were the condition of the intermediate schools such that the youth could be sent to the university so prepared as to be able to cultivate his studies there to the greatest advantage. Unfortunately, in many parts of the United States the condition of the intermediate schools and academics has been grievously neglected; and the authorities of the universities have been compelled to lower their standard, and to admit students totally unprepared for more advanced studies. In this way many of the higher schools have degenerated into mere gymnasia, or ordinary academies. This circumstance, with the multiplication of institutions capable of conferring degrees, has been attended with the additional evil, that, in some, the highest honours have been, and are conferred for acquirements, which would scarcely enable the possessors to enter the lowest classes in others.

It seems, indeed, that the real or fancied insufficiency of most of our existing institutions, gave occasion to the proposition for establishing a university in New-York, and to the Convention, a review of whose proceedings will enable us to offer some practical considerations and reflections, deduced from some experience and meditation on this momentous subject. "Much as our country," observes the Rev. Dr. Mathews, in his opening address in behalf of the committee of the university, "owes to her excellent colleges, the sentiment seems to be general, that the time has arrived when she calls for something more; when she requires institutions which shall give increased maturity to her literature, and also an enlarged diffusion to the blessings of education, and which she may present to the world as maintaining an honourable competition with the universities of Europe." p. 14.

The establishment of a university in the city of New-York having been determined upon, and "an amount of means" pledged to the object, which would place the institution at its commencement on a liberal footing, its friends, "believing it to be desirable, and that it would prove highly gratifying to all who feel an interest in the important subject of education, that a meeting should be convened of literary and scientific men of our country, to confer on the general interests of letters and liberal education," appointed a committee, with powers to invite, as far as practicable, the attendance of such individuals in behalf of the university. Accordingly, on the 20th of October last, a number of literary and scientific gentlemen assembled from various parts of the United States, when President Bates, of Middlebury College, Vermont, was appointed president of the convention; and the Honourable Albert Gallatin, and Walter Bowne, Esq. Mayor of the City, were named vice presidents. The convention sat daily until the 23d inclusive, when it adjourned sine die; but not without having provided for the perpetuation of its species at a future period.

In an assemblage so constituted, it was not to be expected that, excepting the notoriety occasioned by it, any great advantage could accrue to the university or to the public from its deliberations; the most discordant sentiments on almost all points of discipline and instruction;—the views of the experienced and inexperienced—the experientia vera, and the experientia falsa—of the contemplative and the visionary, were to be anticipated; but we must confess, that humble as were our expectations from the results of its labours, the published record of its proceedings proves that we had pitched them too high. The committee appear to us to have had no definite object—no system—in bringing many of the subjects before the convention; every discussion is arrested, without our being able to decide what was the conclusion at which the meeting arrived: and

Of these debates the "Journal" is, doubtless, a faithful record, so far as regards their succession; the brevity, however, of the minutes, published by the secretary, renders the work very unsatisfactory; and scarcely elevates it above the character of a log-book, if we make exception of one or two excellent addresses—such as that of Mr. Gallatin—which are reported at length; and of some (generally indifferent) communications transmitted by their authors.

The first topic presented for the consideration of the convention, was:—"As to the universities of Europe; and how far the systems pursued in them may be desirable for similar institutions in this country." On this subject, Dr. Lieber read a communication of interest in relation to the organization, courses of study and discipline of the German universities, which was referred to the committee of arrangements. Mr. Woolsey, of New-York, gave an account of the French colleges; their system of instruction and discipline; a few desultory observations are next made by Mr. W. C. Woodbridge. Mr. Hasler flies off at a tangent, and offers "a few remarks on the appointment of professors," and is followed by Professor Silliman on the same subject. Mr. Sparks presents a few observations and alludes to the organization of Harvard College. President Bates gives the plan of choosing professors adopted at the college over which he is placed; and Mr. Keating, of Philadelphia, puts a finale to the proceedings of the day and to the question at the same time, by the expression of his views. After this, we hear no more of this "topic," and we are left in the dark whether the system or any part of the system of the universities of Europe be desirable for similar institutions in this country.

It is a mere truism to remark, that the success of an institution must be greatly dependent upon the character of its professors; hence, in all universities, the best mode of selecting them has been a point of earnest and careful inquiry. In some countries, they are appointed by the government; in others, the office is obtained au concours. The candidates being required to defend theses of their own composition, and the most successful receiving the office; whilst in others, the faculty have the power of supplying vacancies in their own body. In our own country, no uniformity exists on this point. Harvard, by the scheme of organization, is under the supervision and control of two separate boards, called the Corporation, and Board of Overseers. The former is composed of seven persons, of whom the president of the college is one, by virtue of his office; the other six being chosen from the community at large. The board of overseers consists of the governor and lieutenant-governor of the state, the members of the council and of the senate, the speaker of the house of representatives, and the president of the college ex-officio; and, also, of fifteen laymen and fifteen clergymen, who are elected, as vacancies occur, by the whole board. This board has a controlling power, which, however, is rarely exerted over the acts of the corporation.

The professors are all chosen, in the first instance, by the corporation, or rather nominated for the approval or rejection of the board of overseers: "but as a case has rarely, if ever been known, in which such a nomination has been rejected by the overseers, the election of all the professors and immediate officers, may be said to pertain in practice to the corporation alone. It is probable, however, that this is seldom done without consulting the members of the faculty into which a professor is to be chosen." Journal, p. 82.

In the generality of our institutions, the appointing power is vested in a board of trustees, who have no controlling body placed over them. In almost all, however, we find from the Journal of the Convention—that the faculty are consulted—"that" according to Dr. Bates, "experience had proved the wisdom of consulting the faculty on any contemplated appointment of a professor; and that, in fact, though not professedly, yet in effect, professors are appointed by the instructers or faculty,—and thus by securing their good will towards the new incumbent, amity was enforced." P. 83.

The great difficulty exists in becoming acquainted with the qualifications of the candidate, especially if he has not been previously engaged in teaching. There can be no better mode of testing the capacity of a teacher, than in the class room; but if this be not available, the recommendation of sufficient individuals, with us, has always to be taken; and in this, a certain degree of risk must necessarily be incurred. It is never, however, a matter of so much moment to procure a professor, who is pre-eminently informed upon the subject of his department, as one that is capable of communicating the knowledge he possesses, is systematic, has a mind that can enable him to improve and to take part as a member of the faculty in the management of the university, in which the greatest firmness, good sense, and ability are occasionally demanded. "A man," says the illustrious Jefferson, "is not qualified for a professor, knowing nothing but merely his own profession. He should be otherwise well educated as to the sciences generally; able to converse understandingly with the scientific men with whom he is associated, and to assist in the councils of the faculty on any subject of science in which they may have occasion to deliberate. Without this he will incur their contempt and bring disreputation on the institution."^[1]

Young professors are, on the above accounts, cæteris paribus, preferable to old. They have not had time to acquire any bad system; are energetic in the acquisition of information, and become attached to the occupation. In institutions where the faculty live within the same walls, it is, likewise, important that the disposition of the individual should be taken into the account, in order that every thing may go on harmoniously. A kind, conciliating deportment, will also gain the respect of the student, and tend materially to discipline.

The best system for the appointment of professors, perhaps, would be—that the faculty should nominate, and the trustees approve or reject. It is improbable, that they would ever be guided by any feelings which would be counter to the prosperity of the institution; whilst they would generally have better opportunities of becoming acquainted with the qualifications of individuals than the board of trustees. This course appears to us less objectionable than any other; and we are glad to find that it was suggested by Mr. Sparks, in the convention.—

"No good policy," he remarks, "would introduce an efficient member into a small body, where such a step would be likely to endanger the harmony of feeling and action. For this reason, it may be well worthy of consideration, whether, in the scheme of a new constitution, it is not better to provide for the nomination of a professor by the members of the faculty, with whom he is to be associated. Such a body would be as capable as any other, to say the least, of judging in regard to the requisite qualifications of a candidate, and much more capable of deciding whether his personal qualities, traits of character, and habits of thinking, would make him acceptable in their community. It seems evident, therefore, that something is lost and nothing gained by referring this nomination to another body of men, who have no interest in common with the party chiefly concerned. It is enough that the electing or sanctioning power dwells in a separate tribunal." P. 83.

Much diversity of opinion has prevailed on the subject of remuneration to professors. In some universities they are paid entirely by fees from the students. The objection urged against this, is, that the professor is too much dependent upon the student, and that this feeling may materially interfere with discipline. To those who consider that there ought to be no discipline in our universities—and strange as it may seem, such views were expressed in the convention—this plan of remuneration can be liable to no objection. Nor to institutions in which there are no resident pupils, like the one proposed in New-York, would the objection apply. On the contrary, the mode in which the professor receives his remuneration entirely from the students, the stimulus which is thus excited, and the feeling that his emoluments may be proportionate to his energy and success in conveying instruction, may have the most beneficial effect upon his exertions. Accordingly, we find the most meritorious application on the part of the professors in our great medical schools; and a degree of enthusiasm aroused, which might not be elicited were the mode of recompensing them other than it is.

On the other hand, it has been maintained, that the professor should be in no wise dependent upon the student; that he should receive no fees, but be paid by a fixed salary. The objection urged against this system is, that there is here no stimulus, and that as the professor feels his income altogether independent of his exertions, he will relax in his efforts, neglect his duties, become inattentive to his own improvement, and uncourteous in his behaviour to the pupil. This is plausible in theory, and doubtless, has occasionally been found to be the fact. It is not likely to occur, however, if the professor be held rigidly responsible, and if the tenure of his office be on good behaviour, instead of for life. It is to be calculated, likewise, that every professor is a gentleman, and that the honour of the situation is a part of the emolument. These should be a sufficient guarantee that his duties will be performed energetically, and that his behaviour will be courteous. Should this not be the case, he is unfit for his situation, and the trustees should have moral courage enough to remove him. Experience, too, has, we think, sufficiently proved, that the evils of fixed salaries, under the tenure dum bene se gesserit, are more imaginary than real: some of the very best institutions are conducted upon this system, in various parts of Europe and of this country. On the whole, perhaps, where the students reside within the precincts, a combination of a fixed salary, of a sufficient amount to enable the professor to be, to a certain extent, independent of the student, with the payment of a fee from the student for tuition, is the most politic and satisfactory mode of remuneration. In this manner, he receives a certain stimulus to exertion, whilst other objections to both exclusive systems are obviated. Experience, however, shows, that although the zeal and industry of a professor may occasion a slight fluctuation in the numbers that resort to his school, this influence is very limited in its action. It is the character of the study which attracts followers; and whilst one department will be crowded to excess, independently of the merits or demerits of the professor, others will be almost entirely neglected. This will occur in all institutions in which professional, or extremely advanced, or unusual studies are taught. Every student, whether he may be intended for one of the learned professions, or for any other pursuit, considers it absolutely necessary to attend certain academical departments;—those of ancient languages and mathematics for example;—whilst comparatively few can be expected to attend the professional chairs, or the higher branches of study, notwithstanding the subjects may be taught in the most attractive and sufficient manner. Unless the manners of a professor are strikingly obnoxious, but little effect will be produced in the numbers frequenting his school: and if they are so, it is a sufficient ground for removal.

In those universities in which the professors are remunerated by a fixed salary, this inequality of attendance is not felt; but it is a serious evil, where the emolument accrues wholly or in part in the form of tuition fees. The greatest inequality may prevail in the compensation; and those teachers who are engaged in the most abstruse departments, will necessarily be worse paid than those who are engaged in superintending the elementary branches. Suppose the department of mathematics to be divided into the elementary and transcendental: if each be remunerated by an equal fee from his students, the latter cannot expect to have an income of more than one-twentieth part of that of his colleague. This we know is a ground of much dissatisfaction in many institutions, and attempts have been made to obviate it. Meiners,^[2] a reflecting writer on the subject of universities, thinks it would be proper to correct this inequality by making a portion of the fees received common stock: but if we admit that the abilities and attention of the professors are equal, and that the same number of hours is employed in teaching the various branches, there seems to be no reason why the remuneration of one professor should be permitted to exceed that of his colleague. On this subject, some pertinent remarks were made by Dr. Lieber, in which he agrees, in many respects, with his countryman, Meiners.

"Now I ask," says he, "how much even Professor Gauss, le plus grand des mathematiciens, as La Grange called him, has realized from his lectures? Mathematics, at least the higher branches of them, never can be very popular; I mean, it is impossible that they should be generally studied, and it would be to consign a professor to absolute indigence, if government should leave professors of mathematics dependent on the honorarium paid by their students. I studied mathematics under the celebrated Pfaff at Halle, whom La Grange called un des premiers mathematiciens, and we were never more than twenty in his lecture room, of whom I fully believe not much more than half paid the honorarium, which was very small." P. 58.

And again,—

"Yet I believe, that generally speaking, it is better for professors and students to have fees paid for their lectures, for various reasons, although it would be unsafe to let professors be solely or chiefly depending upon them, for it would be unsafe to settle such annuities upon persons intended to live for science, or guarantee them, forever, an easy life. It has besides been found, that generally, students attend those lectures more carefully for which they pay. With the different branches of instruction, the principle upon which professorships are to be established, ought to vary. In a city, in which many students of medicine always will be assembled, it may be safe to let the professor greatly depend upon the fees of the students, whilst a professor of Hebrew ought to be provided for in such a way, that he may follow the difficult study of Oriental languages, without the direct care for his support, in case the number of students would be too small for this purpose, as it generally will prove." P. 65.

In most of our colleges, the president has some control over the course of education in the schools of the institution; and, consequently, over the professors. Such a plan is, however, impolitic. No control whatever ought to be exerted over the teacher. If qualified—and if not he is not fitted for his situation—he ought to be left to himself, and to follow that system which he conceives best adapted to develop the intellect of his pupils; at the same time he should be held rigidly responsible for his free agency. In the University of Virginia, as well as in other of the higher schools of the country, the professor is required to send in a weekly report of the number of lectures he has delivered; the daily examinations instituted; the length of time occupied in each; and this report of the mode in which his duties have been executed, is laid before the board of visitors at their next meeting. In this manner delinquencies can be detected, and the appropriate corrective be applied.

Occasionally, however, it may happen, that a professor may be indolent, and inaccurate in his reports; and it may be a question, whether it is not advantageous that the presiding officer should have authority to attest how often a professor really does meet his class, with the length of time expended, and the precise course of instruction adopted; and then to report to the trustees, but not to interfere himself in the rectification of abuses.

In the discussion of this subject in the Convention, Mr. Keating has committed a blunder, regarding the University of Virginia.

"He would like to see the president, in truth, the head of the university, occupying a distinguished station in the board of trustees, controlling all the faculties, superintending all the departments. It should be a situation such as an experienced and retiring statesman would be proud to fill. A good example had been set by the new University of Virginia." P. 86.

Now, the rector of that institution is merely a member of the board of visiters, chosen from out the body to preside over them, has no delegated authority, but meets the other visiters once a year, and presides over their deliberations, without, however, having a casting vote. The chairman of the faculty, chosen annually by the board of visiters, from amongst the professors, is the real president, and possesses the powers usually granted to the presidents of colleges. We are surprised, by the bye, to observe from the journal of the Convention, that the University of Virginia was entirely unrepresented there. It has now been established six years, and has been proceeding on a tide of successful experiment. It is the first effort that has been made in this country to cast off the trammels that have fettered practical instruction; to suffer each to take the bent of his own inclination in the selection of his studies, requiring for the attainment of its highest honours, qualifications only, and rejecting time altogether. Although the first attempt in this country on a large scale, the plan has been long adopted in other countries, particularly in Germany, which has been so justly celebrated for the novelty and excellence of its academic instruction; yet in no country can such an experiment be regarded with more interest than in the United States, where, for the reasons already assigned, the youth are compelled to attain, if practicable, the strictly useful, and to strive for their own support at a very early period of their career.

In the debates of the Convention, we find few allusions to that institution, and wherever it is referred to, the most lamentable ignorance of its economy is exhibited, and the greatest errors are committed. In it there is an entire separation of the legislative from the executive power; the board of visiters exercising the former—the board of professors, or faculty, the latter. This has its advantages and inconveniences. In many of our colleges for resident students, the president is, ex officio, presiding officer of the board of visiters, so that he forms a part of the two powers. Where the president is at the same time a professor this is apt to create heart burnings and jealousies, and gives him a decided, and often unfair preponderance in any dispute with his brother professors, in which the decision of the board of trustees may be requested; whilst, if the executive power have no voice in the deliberations of the superior board; and especially if the visiters reside at a distance from the institution, laws are apt to be enacted, which create great dissatisfaction and confusion, which have not been suggested by experience, and which, consequently, are either wholly inoperative, unfeasible, or impolitic. To obviate these evils the executive might have a delegate at the meetings of the legislative body, who, even if he had no vote, might be expected to take part in those deliberations which regarded the rules and regulations of the university, or the interests of the body to which he belonged; but in the discussion of other topics, his attendance might be dispensed with. In this manner, the legislative body would have the advantage of the voice of experience, and the faculty, by choosing their own delegate, could always be represented, should discussions arise between them and their presiding officer. Nothing is more certain, than that laws which seem easy of execution, and admirably conceived, are often found, in practice, to be wholly unavailable and injudicious. But the mischief does not end here. The respect of the student is any thing but increased towards the board that conceives, or the executive which attempts to fulfil such regulations. By the enactments lying before us, of almost all the well regulated institutions of this country, we find, that the board of professors are requested by the trustees to suggest to them such laws as experience may indicate; this is wise; the faculty are unquestionably the best judges, and no non-resident can possibly have the necessary experience.

Well adapted rules are the best safeguards for the success of any university, where the students reside within the precincts especially. They should be simple, yet not trivial; efficient, yet not unnecessarily rigorous, and should be drawn up, if not perspicuously, at least intelligibly. What shall we say to such cases as the following, which we copy from the published laws of one of the oldest colleges of this Union?

"No person, other than a student or other member of the college, shall be admitted as a boarder at the college table. No liquors shall be furnished or used at table, except beer, cider, toddy, or spirits and water!"

"No student shall be permitted to lodge or board, or without permission from the president or a professor, go into a tavern."

And again,—

"If offences be committed in which there are many actors or abettors, the faculty may select such of the offenders for punishment as may be deemed necessary to maintain the authority of the laws, and to preserve good order in the college, &c."

It is always found more easy to make laws, than to have them well executed. This is, in fact, usually the great difficulty, and formed, very properly, a subject of deliberation in the Convention. No light was, however, shed upon it, and the most visionary sentiments were elicited, denying the necessity of any discipline whatever in the higher schools. Whenever a number of youths are thrown together within a small compass, other rules become necessary besides those of the land. The esprit du corps, the influence of bad example afforded by a few, lead to the commission of offences that demand interposition; accordingly, in every intelligent and sound thinking community, certain transgressions, such as gambling, drinking, disorderly behaviour, habits of expense and dissoluteness, and incorrigible idleness, have been esteemed to merit serious collegiate reprehension.

Of the different kinds of government adopted in universities, we shall mention those only which prevail in the United States. The authority is generally vested in a president and faculty, the former having the power of inflicting minor punishments; the major punishments requiring the sanction of the latter. With the president the power is vested of deciding whether any case is deserving the one or the other. An objection has been urged against this system, that if the president be of a timid, vacillating disposition, he may keep every case from the faculty, and in this there is some truth; he is, however, responsible to the trustees, and hence it can rarely happen that he will exercise ill-judged lenity; this danger too, is greatly abated, provided the faculty be allowed collateral jurisdiction, and can act on cases of which he has not taken cognizance. If he has already acted, it would be obviously improper that any additional jurisdiction should be exercised—in accordance with the common law maxim—that no man can be put in jeopardy twice for the same offence.

If such discretionary power be not granted to the presiding officer, he will have to carry every case before the faculty; and thus his office will be merely nominal, for it would be utterly impracticable to define, with any accuracy, the cases that must fall under his dominion, distinctly from those to be assigned for the animadversion of the faculty.

It has been fancifully presumed, that the students themselves might be induced to form a part of the government—to constitute a court for the trial of minor offences, and to inflict punishment on a delinquent colleague; and, further, that their co-operation might react beneficially in the prevention of transgressions. The scheme has a republican appearance, but experience has sufficiently shown that it is impracticable. In the first printed copy of the enactments of the University of Virginia, (1825) we find the following.

"The major punishments of expulsion from the university, temporary suspension of attendance and presence there, or interdiction of residence or appearance within its precincts, shall be decreed by the professors themselves. Minor cases may be referred to a board of six censors, to be named by the faculty, from among the most discreet of the students, whose duty it shall be, sitting as a board, to inquire into the facts, propose the minor punishment which they think proportioned to the offence, and to make report thereof to the professors for their approbation or their commutation of the penalty, if it be beyond the grade of the offence. These censors shall hold their offices until the end of the session of their appointment, if not sooner revoked by the faculty." But in the next edition of the enactments, (1827) we find that no such law exists; hence we conclude, that the experiment had met with the usual unsuccessful issue. So long, indeed, as the esprit du corps or Burschenschaft prevails amongst students, which inculcates, that it is a stigma of the deepest hue to give testimony against a fellow-student, it is vain for us to expect any co-operation in the discipline of the institution from them. This "loose principle in the ethics of schoolboy combinations," as it has been termed by Mr. Jefferson, has indeed led to numerous and serious evils. It has been a great cause of the combinations formed in resistance of the lawful authorities, of intemperate addresses at the instigation of some unworthy member, and to repeated scenes of commotion and violence, and cannot be too soon laid aside. Sooner or later, it must yield to the improved condition of public feeling; and we cannot but regret to see the slightest and most indirect sanction given to it in the regulations of a university, which has made so many useful innovations in systems of instruction and discipline, that have been perpetuated by the prejudices of ages. The law to which we allude is the following:—"When testimony is required from a student, it shall be voluntary and not on oath, and the obligation to give it, shall be left to his own sense of right."

No youth hesitates to depose in a court of justice touching an offence against the municipal laws of his country, committed by a brother student. The youth and the people at large, are, indeed, distinguished for their ready attention to the calls of justice. Yet it is esteemed the depth of dishonour to testify when called upon by the college authorities, against the grossest violator not only of collegiate but municipal law, as if it could be less honourable to give the same testimony before one tribunal than another; or the morality of the act differed in the two cases.

This erroneous principle, which leads to the separation of so many promising individuals from the universities, threatens their reputation and prosperity, injures the cause and saps the very foundation of education, prevails in some countries, and in some portions of this country more than in others. In some of the most respectable of our own colleges, it is made a duty to give evidence under pain of the highest punishments; and in some of those in which the esprit du corps has prevailed to the greatest extent, it has given occasion to the adoption, by the faculty, of the monstrous alternative of selecting persons on bare suspicion, or at random, and punishing them under the expectation that the real delinquent might exhibit himself. A law of this kind prevails in the college of William and Mary, in Virginia. "In any case of disorderly conduct within the college, in which students are concerned, every student in college at the time, whether he be a resident therein or not, shall be considered as a principal and treated accordingly, unless he can show his innocence." It has also been proposed to get over this difficulty, with regard to testimony, by establishing a law court at the university, of which the law professor, for example, might be judge, and the jury be constituted of the inhabitants of the vicinity. This tribunal to possess the ordinary jurisdiction of courts of law, and of course, empowered to require testimony on oath from the student. Such might be a valuable adjunct to the powers ordinarily possessed by the faculties of our colleges.

The majority of the convention, seem manifestly to have been in favour of what they term Parental Discipline; but we are left to conjecture how much this embraces. If it be meant, in the language of Meiners, that "the academical authorities should bear to the students the relation of fathers as well as of judges; that they should not only punish, but entreat, admonish, advise, warn, and reprove"—no one will dispute the propriety of the system. It is, in fact, that which is introduced into our best institutions.

"The governors and instructors," say the laws of Harvard, "earnestly desire that the students may be influenced to good conduct and literary exertion, by higher motives than the fear of punishment; but when such motives fail, the faculty will have recourse to friendly caution and warning, fines, solemn admonition, and official notice of delinquency to parents or guardians; and where the nature and circumstances of the case require it, to suspension, dismission, rustication, or expulsion." But important as may be the reformation of an offender, and interesting as it is to see the wild and the thoughtless restored to the paths of rectitude, it is obvious, that the prime object of discipline is less such reformation than the advantage to others; and if in the collegiate, as in the corporeal economy, an offending member should endanger the safety of the whole fabric, it will have to be removed. A man is not sent to the penitentiary merely because he has stolen a sheep, but in order that sheep may not be stolen. The term parental discipline, in fact, is most undefined; it includes the most discrepant and the most heterogeneous modes of correction. Solitary confinement, sitting in a corner, whipping, are used according to circumstances; but we presume none of these punishments were contemplated by the Convention.

Most of the speakers seem to have been of opinion, that the parental system of intercourse, such as a wise father would maintain with his son, is best adapted for instruction and discipline in our colleges. Such a course would be manifestly impracticable where the number of students is considerable, and is of doubtful policy in all. The professor should, indeed, be kind, courteous, and affable; conciliating and ready to afford every information; but we doubt whether either discipline or instruction is aided by constant and familiar intercourse. There should be a certain distance maintained between pupil and preceptor; but no presumption, no affected dignity on the part of the latter; and under such circumstances every thing will be better effected than where the communication is closer and less unrestrained.

But the great dread entertained by these gentlemen, has been towards the infliction of disgrace; yet no punishment, whatever, can be awarded, without more or less of this. It is a disgrace to an offender to be reprimanded; to be dismissed from the schoolroom for a time; to be sent away from the institution; the good, however, of the rest requires it, and it is pseudo-philanthropy to repine. One point canvassed in the Convention and connected with this subject, requires notice. "Whether a student who has been dismissed from one institution ought to be refused admittance into any other? There is a general understanding amongst the colleges of the United States, that no student thus separated from one, shall be received into another, unless he be so far restored to favour as to be able to obtain from his college what is termed a regular dismissal." (Journal, p. 145.) Unconditional refusal to admit, appears to us to be a rule which can allow of but little justification. Meiners observes, that "those who come from other universities ought to bring certificates that they have not been expelled. If merely dismissed, they may be admitted,—but then they should be narrowly watched." It would, however, be barbarous to exclude even an expelled student, provided he could produce satisfactory evidence of his return to rectitude. It is a good practice to make the matriculation, under such circumstances, difficult; and to require a sufficient period of probation before he is permitted to join the university. The University of Virginia, has no comity in this respect with the other institutions of the Union. It has followed the only rational plan; ordaining—"that no person who has been a student at any other incorporated seminary, shall be received at that university, but on producing a certificate from such seminary, or other satisfactory evidence, to the faculty, with respect to his general good conduct." A no less important regulation would be, to exclude those of notoriously idle or dissolute habits, and yet who had never been at any incorporated seminary.

But Mr. Hasler is of opinion, and in this he is joined by Dr. Wolf, and, so far as we can judge, from the published speech of Mr. Woodbridge, by that gentleman also,—that little or no control is necessary over the students who resort to universities. The paper from the pen of that gentleman, in the Journal before us, bears the stamp of visionary enthusiasm; exhibits, we think, clearly a total deficiency of experience, and is

"Against this liberal discipline," he remarks, "the example of the Virginia university has very erroneously been alleged by way of disapprobation, or as a failure: it affords no proof of that kind. The erroneous system of collegiate life has been preserved in it. The locality is insulated, and the constant sameness of the company, of fellow-students only, produces the bad results of tedious and too close influence between the student, even with the professors. Besides that, the architect of that building, the well informed, philosophical, and amiable Jefferson, died before it was finished; for the construction of such an institution is not finished, with the walls that enclose its lecture rooms, or the dwellings; the organization can only be the result of several years actual activity of the institution, particularly when the plan is novel in the place where it is established. To this is still to be added, that the professors appointed there, were all accustomed to the collegiate life, and therefore not likely of such dispositions as to be proper secundents to the liberal plans of the original founder." P. 265.

Without pointing out the numerous minor errors that pervade this paragraph, we may remark, that Mr. Hasler is manifestly uninformed regarding the condition of the institution to which he alludes. We have every reason for believing, that the discipline of the University of Virginia, is equal to that which prevails in any institution of the Union. The evils of bad discipline, occasioned by the want of sufficient and efficient rules, were speedily experienced there. The objections felt by the board of visiters to over-legislation, led to an opposite error; whilst undue dependence was placed upon the effect that might be produced from the participation of the students themselves in the judicial power. Accordingly, we find, from the supplement to the printed enactments, that it became necessary to tighten the reins of authority during the very first session.

It has often been remarked, that owing to the feeble domestic discipline which ordinarily prevails in the United States, the youth, particularly of the southern parts of the Union, require a different mode of management from those of other countries. There does not appear to be the slightest foundation for this vulgar error. Young men, as well as adults, are much alike over the whole civilized globe; and if it be found that mild measures are ineffectual, recourse must be had to more severe every where: and in all cases, the laws, where needed, must be executed temperately, unhesitatingly, and firmly.

It has been said, that certain offences are esteemed as such in all institutions: of these, perhaps the most fatal are gambling and drinking. Both exert their baneful effects upon the morals, habits, and application of the student; and it is difficult to say, which is the most to be deprecated. The general evils produced upon society by their indulgence, it is as unnecessary as it would be out of place, to depict. It is only as regards their influence on college life and discipline, that they concern us at present.

Habits of gambling should lead to immediate separation of the offender; they are rarely abandoned; whilst they are as pernicious to the student himself, as they are likely to be by evil example to others. Gaming is one of the offences that require a collegiate, in addition to the municipal law. Under this head are included all those, which, from their seductive character, are apt to engross the time of the student, or to lead to parental loss and inconvenience, as cards, dice, billiards, &c.

Serious, however, as we must necessarily esteem the offence of gambling, it is, if possible, less so than habits of drinking. The latter is not an evil which entails with it so much pecuniary difficulty, but it is apt to lead to the former, and to every other loathsome vice. Few professed drunkards are reclaimed; and even should they be, the valuable time lost in youth in these indulgences, renders the youth subsequently unfit for the reception of moral and intellectual culture; hence he remains in after life debased and vicious, exhibiting merely the wreck of his previous intellect. Both these weighty offences may, in some measure, be checked by wisely devised sumptuary laws. In all well regulated universities, such endeavours have been directed to restrain the expenditure of the students.

The Credit Gesetre of Göttingen occupy a space of twenty-two octavo pages in the work of Meiners. At Harvard, (and we take this in our references to institutions on the old system of instruction, as being one of the longest established of those that receive resident students,) every student who belongs to places more than one hundred miles distant from Cambridge, is compelled to have a patron, appointed by the corporation, who has charge of all his funds, and disburses them under the regulations of the establishment. For this duty, he receives from the student six dollars a year as a compensation. In the University of Virginia, the proctor is the patron; and it is enacted, that "no student, resident within the precincts, shall matriculate, till he shall have deposited with the proctor all the money, checks, bills, drafts, and other available funds, which he shall have in his possession or under his control, in any manner intended to defray his expenses whilst a student of the university, or on his return from thence to his residence." On this the proctor is allowed a commission of 2 per cent. To ensure a more faithful compliance with this and other enactments on the subject, each student, about to leave the university, is required to sign a written declaration that he has made such deposit; or if not, to state the sum withheld, and the proctor is entitled to the same commission upon that sum as if it had been deposited. But if the student refuses to give such written declaration, the proctor is entitled to demand and receive from him so much as, with the commission on the money actually deposited, will make the sum of twelve dollars. Moreover, in all cases in which the student fails to make such written declaration, or in which it may appear that he has not deposited the whole of his funds with the proctor, that officer is required to report the fact to the chairman of the faculty, in order that it may be communicated to the parent or guardian of the student, be laid before the faculty and visiters, and otherwise properly animadverted upon.

The contraction of debts by students has, also, been made liable to the severest collegiate penalties; but, notwithstanding, the offence is always committed to a greater or less extent. The tradesman will give credit, and the student escape detection. The last and best resource is in the public spirit of the parent or guardian, who ought, unhesitatingly and firmly, to refuse to discharge any debt of an unauthorized nature, which his son or ward may have contracted, and especially those of the tavern-keeper or confectioner. The censures which he may incur from the exercise of his public spirit, can proceed only from the interested and sordid; whilst he will receive the applause of all those, whose favourable opinion it is desirable to possess. He will, moreover, have the gratifying conviction, that, by such a course, he is contributing to the annihilation of a system which is the cause of much public and domestic mischief.

The legislature of Massachusetts, to aid in the prevention of expense and dissoluteness, have patriotically enacted "That no inn-holder, tavern-keeper, retailer, confectioner, or keeper of any shop or boarding-house, for the sale of drink or food, or any livery-stable-keeper, shall give credit to any under-graduate, of either of the colleges within the commonwealth, without the consent of such officer or officers of the said colleges, respectively, as may be authorized to act in such cases, by the government of the same, or in violation of such rules and regulations as shall be, from time to time, established by the authority of said colleges respectively."

The example might be advantageously followed in other states. The objection, that, in a free country, every one ought to be protected in the exercise of his avocation, provided it be honest, is nugatory. They who are receiving their education at our universities, are to form the future strength,—and, in many cases, the pride and ornament of the state; and the pecuniary detriment that might accrue to a few individuals by the enactment of such a law, must be reckoned as nothing, compared with the overwhelming evil which results where unlimited indulgence is permitted.

One of the most prevalent sources of expense is in the article of dress. They, whose pecuniary means will admit of ostentatious display, will frequently attempt to exceed others in this fancied evidence of superiority. This excites a spirit of emulation in such as are but ill able to afford it, and is the origin of much idle extravagance.

To rectify this evil, as well as to aid in the more ready detection of offences, a uniform style of dress has been adopted in many of the universities of this country, and of Europe.

In some, this consists merely of a gown thrown over the clothes: which latter may be as costly as the wearer chooses.

In others, as in the universities of Harvard and Virginia, cloth of the cheapest colour, and of a determinate quality, has been selected; and the uniform dress, made from this, has been directed to be worn, whenever the student is out of his room. The plan pursued at those colleges, is the most advantageous, both in a sumptuary and penal point of view: the fashion of the dress being such as to distinguish readily the student from others, and thus to admit of the discovery of transgressors.

As a general system, the adoption of a uniform is attended with the most beneficial results: although, in particular cases, it may clearly and necessarily add to the expenditure, where, for instance, the student purposes to remain at an institution for a single session only. He leaves home provided with his ordinary apparel, which he is compelled to abandon, on becoming a matriculate. The prescribed uniform must, of course, be laid aside, on his quitting college at the end of the collegiate year; and, by this time, his ordinary apparel has become too small for him. For this reason, a law requiring a uniform dress, is obviously more beneficial in such institutions as prescribe a particular course and term of study, than where no such regulations exist. In the laws of the University of Virginia, we find that boots are proscribed, and this may seem to be descending to unnecessary minutiæ; but they who are practically conversant with university discipline, are aware that this article of dress is objectionable on other grounds than expense. It is one of the contraband methods, often had recourse to, for the introduction of forbidden liquors. The boot is sent apparently to the shoemaker, containing an empty bottle, which returns, by the same conveyance, filled with the prohibited article.

On the important topic of practical instruction, the Convention appear to have entered at some length; but, seemingly, with the same discursive irregularity, that characterizes all their other deliberations. We observe no method,—no lucid exposition, and no evident conclusion. A great part of their discussion was connected with the question, "whether students should be confined to their classes, or allowed to graduate, when found prepared, on examination?" On this subject, again, we find the most discordant sentiments. The majority, perhaps, are in favour of what they term "classification," and adherence to "tried and well-known courses;" whilst others, from the same premises, have arrived at opposite conclusions:—the courses having been, in their opinion, tried and found inadequate.

The most conflicting sentiments have been indulged on this point for ages: whether, for example, it be advisable to permit a student to select his own studies, or to compel him to enter and proceed with his class: to pass a definite period at college, if desirous of attaining honours, and to offer himself for graduation only in company with his class.

Most of the older universities adhere to the system, which requires a fixed course to be followed, and for a certain time. Many of the more modern, on the other hand, permit a free choice; and some allow the student to become a candidate for graduation, whenever he feels himself competent to offer.

In the United States, with but one or two exceptions, we believe, the antiquated system, with more or less modification, is adopted; and, in most, the distinctions into freshman and sophomore, junior and senior classes, prevail: the sciences only becoming predominant objects of the student's attention in the two last. The course of study in each of these continues for a year, and is the same for every student, whatever may be his capacity or tastes. To be received into any of those upon the old system, it is made indispensable, that he should be acquainted, to a certain extent, with the Greek and Latin languages.

"No boy," says Mr. Gallatin, in an address characterized by the same comprehensive and enlightened views, which we mark in every thing emanating from that distinguished individual—"who has not previously devoted a number of years to the study of the dead languages; no boy, who, from defective memory, or want of aptitude for that particular branch, may be deficient in that respect, can be admitted into any of our colleges. And those seminaries do alone afford the means of acquiring any other branch of knowledge. Whatever may be his inclination or destination, he must, if admitted, apply one-half of his time to the further study of those languages. It is self-evident, that the avenue to every branch of knowledge is actually foreclosed by the present system, against the greater part of mankind." Journal. P. 175.

Mr. Gallatin does not seem to have been aware that there is one university in the Union to which his strictures do not apply—the University of Virginia. In it the student, except in the schools of ancient languages, mathematics, and natural philosophy, is subjected to no preliminary examination; and, moreover, he is required to pass through no definite course or term of study; to attend no particular classes, but is left free to select his own studies. When he has once embraced them, however, he is not permitted to relinquish them, unless by request of his parent or guardian, and by the permission of the faculty; and whenever he esteems himself sufficiently informed on the subject taught in any one of his schools, he is permitted to become a candidate for graduation in it. This system, which, so far as it goes, will bear the test of rigid and philosophical examination more than any other, prevails more or less in the German universities, and has been adopted, we believe, in the new London University.

Professor Vethake of Princeton, New-Jersey—a communication from whom was read to the convention, and which exhibits sound practical sense, and ingenious and discriminating reflection—has exhibited the prevalent inaccuracy of information, regarding the system adopted at the southern university, to which, from its novelty, we have so frequently alluded. "I see no objection," he remarks, "to render it obligatory on them (the students) to attend at the same period of time, a certain number of courses, unless specially exempted for sufficient reasons, as is now the arrangement in the University of Virginia." Journal, P. 30. No such arrangement exists in that institution. The professor has been guilty of an error loci; the plan is pursued at the old college of William and Mary, in Virginia.

In canvassing the comparative merits of the two systems, and, indeed, of every point of college discipline and education, it is necessary to take into consideration the age at which the students are received. In most of our colleges they are admitted when mere boys, and the course of instruction is necessarily made more elementary. In the University of Virginia, on the other hand, no student is received under the age of sixteen, and when, whatever may be the fact, it is to be presumed, that the more elementary portion of his education has been completed, and that he is now prepared for the prosecution of more advanced academic, or for professional, studies. To adopt a rigid rule, that students of this age should be compelled to pass a period of four or more years at college, before they can offer themselves for honours; or that they should be confined to classes, with boys, to whom a few years is a matter of comparatively little moment, would be manifestly unreasonable. This much is certain, that in this country few can spare the time in the mere attainment of academical or preliminary information. The truth is, our universities are, like those of Scotland now, and Oxford and Cambridge in former times—both schools and colleges. The under graduate course, in those venerable seats of learning, seems at first to have corresponded precisely, in point of age, with that of the modern schools. Many of the statutes, still in force at Oxford and Cambridge, respecting the discipline of students, sufficiently attest the boyhood of those for whom they were enacted. One of these directs corporal chastisement for those who neglect their lessons. Another, at Cambridge, prohibits the undergraduates from playing marbles on the steps of the senate house. In process of time, excellent schools arose, at which the ordinary preliminary education was obtained, and the period of resorting to college became thus postponed. The dislike to innovation, which augments in intensity according to the age of the establishment, prevented, however, any modification in the course of scholastic instruction, and thus it would seem was occasioned the length of time consumed there in preliminary education.^[3]

It will be manifest, that the objections to the system of classification are not so numerous or so weighty in those colleges into which mere boys are received. It has been repeatedly urged, that by such a system they are compelled to study subjects foreign to their inclinations and capacities; but, until the age of sixteen or seventeen, the mind cannot, perhaps, be better employed than in the acquirement of such knowledge as forms part of the course prescribed in the generality of our universities. The great objection is, that those of all ages are subjected to the same restrictions.

The opposite course, as it at present prevails at the University of Virginia, is also liable to animadversion; the less, however, as the students are not received under sixteen years of age. It will most generally happen, that neither the youth, nor his parent nor guardian, is sufficiently acquainted with the course he ought to adopt with the view of being well educated; and if the youth be left solely to the exercise of his own discretion, which is often a negative quantity, he will be apt to select those schools that require the least application, and are the most interesting, to the exclusion of more severe and elementary subjects. The best system is that which turns out the greatest number of well instructed individuals, or which holds out the greatest amount of incentives to regular study. This cannot be accomplished by any plan which leaves the student, or the parent or guardian—often less competent than the student—to be the sole judge of what should be the course of instruction in all cases. The University of Virginia, which admits this system to the full extent—in no wise controlling the choice of the student—affords us some elucidation of the comparative value attached to different subjects of university instruction, by the student, or by parents and guardians, and of the disadvantages of this unrestricted plan. From the report of the rector and visiters of that university for 1830, we find that there were attending the

School ofAncient Languages - 52

Mathematics - 60

Natural Philosophy - 47

Moral Philosophy - 16

We have selected those subjects only, which constitute the usual course of academic instruction; and which, we think, ought to constitute it. The school of chemistry we have omitted, because it was composed of both academic and professional students, with the ratio of which to each other we are unacquainted. The probability also is, that some of those attending the departments of natural and moral philosophy, were students of law or medicine. From this list we find, that whilst the schools of ancient languages, of mathematics, and of natural philosophy were well attended, that of moral philosophy—one of eminent importance in forming the youthful mind—was comparatively neglected. The two first departments, as taught in most of our colleges, are the subject of the first years' attention; the latter are esteemed more advanced studies, and, where free agency is allowed the pupil, he will generally prefer the study of matter, with the advantage of the beautiful and diversified elucidations afforded by the advanced state of physical science, to that of mind, with all its arid, but by no means sterile investigations.

We have said that, in the University of Virginia, the selection of studies by the student is free and uncontrolled. An indirect influence is, however, exerted by the graduation of the fees paid to the professors. If the student attends but one professor, he is required to pay $50; if two, $30 to each; if three or more, $25 to each. A similar effect is produced by the enactment which requires that the student shall enter three classes, unless his parent and guardian shall authorize him, in writing, to attend fewer. Such regulations are favourable only to diffusion of studies over three subjects; the evil remains—of permitting the student to employ his own unassisted judgment in the choice. Such a rule must, however, be generally inoperative. If the collegiate regulation be known, the student will take care to provide himself with the necessary authorization from his parent or guardian; and if not known, it would be hard that the rule should apply. But let us suppose that he arrives at the university without any such authorization, and desires to join the elementary departments of ancient languages and mathematics. When he discovers that he is required to attend three schools, he will necessarily select one that may afford the greatest attractions, and the attention to which may be esteemed recreation rather than study. In such a case, the law, independently of being productive of no clear advantage except that of adding to the emolument of a greater number of professors, has the evil of compelling an elementary student to adopt a more advanced subject of study, or, at all events, an additional study to the disadvantage of the main object for which he joined the university. Less objection would have existed, if the regulation had required the student to attend two schools under such circumstances. He might then devote himself exclusively to elementary studies; or, if more advanced, he could readily find a collateral subject, which would not distract his attention from the main department, and might form an agreeable and useful alternation.

The truth is, however, that the law is liable to all the objections which apply to the old collegiate regulations, which make time the only element of qualification for distinction. The board of visiters of that university should have gone a step further, and instead of stating the number of schools which a pupil should be compelled to attend, unless his parent or guardian wished otherwise, they should have recommended, not enforced, a particular system of study for those desirous of attaining high literary distinction, or of becoming well educated; still retaining the valuable feature, that they, whose opportunities, tastes, or capacities, do not admit of their following the recommendation, may choose their own subjects.

What this system ought to be, we will now inquire into. It will enter naturally into the consideration of the latter part of the question canvassed before the Convention—"ought students to be confined to their classes, or allowed to receive degrees when found prepared on examination?" The affirmative of the proposition, as regards graduation, seems to be the natural view; yet there are few institutions at which this course is permitted. If the pupil be constrained to follow a prescribed and unbending series of studies, as is the case in most of the universities of this country and of Europe, it would appear to result as naturally that the negative view should be adopted.

In the Convention, the most opposing sentiments were here again elicited; and, as on other topics, they seem to have arrived at no fixed conclusion; all that we are informed being, that "the discussion of the topic was discontinued."

As regards the requisites for graduation in the different colleges of the Union, they are as various as the colleges themselves. This circumstance has, indeed, given occasion to the little estimation in which the degrees are in general held. It often happens, in truth, that the degree of Bachelor of Arts is conferred at one institution, on such as would be utterly incapable of acquiring it at another; and, at the close of his college career,—which differs in length in different institutions,—every individual receives the first degree in the arts: the examinations instituted being a matter of form, and, too often, of farce. We cannot be surprised, then, that a degree, thus obtained, should be contemned; and that, even in legislative assemblies, members should be found to declare themselves totally unworthy of the honours thus conferred upon them. This is not the case in the universities of Europe. In the English universities, the Baccalaureate is made the test of severe devotion to particular studies; and, whatever objections may be made to the plan followed in those institutions, of requiring accurate classical and mathematical knowledge, to the exclusion of every thing else, the degree is, at all events, an evidence that the possessor is unusually well instructed in those matters. Hence, we find in that country the initials B. A. and M. A. proudly appended to the names of the Bachelor or Master, and received by all as emblems of literary distinction. How rarely do we see the title thus added in this country? This comes from the causes already alluded to;—the degree is too easily attained; and, when attained, is such an insufficient evidence of learning, that it is discarded; and the parchment and the seal and riband, and the pomp and ceremony of the day for the distribution of honours, which excited so much juvenile exultation, are, in after life, esteemed no criterion of literary distinction. We cannot, then, be surprised, that one of the topics which engaged the Convention, was, "whether the title of B. A. should be retained?"

To the title Bachelor of Arts, unmeaning as it derivatively is, we have but little objection, provided certain definite ideas are attached to it. In the University of Virginia, the term graduate seems to be considered more appropriate. We do not think it an improvement upon the ancient appellation:—

But few appellatives, in their received acceptation, would be found to correspond with their derivative meaning. The French have their "Bachelors" and "Masters of Sciences," but these terms are not more significant; whilst "Doctor" too often means any thing rather than doctus—"Qui dit Docteur ne dit pas un homme docte, mais un homme qui devrait être docte."

Every well devised system of education should combine an attention to language; to the sciences relating to magnitude and numbers; and to those that embrace the phenomena of mind and of matter.

Little doubt, we think, can exist in the minds of the intelligent, that the ancient languages should form one element. Much has been said, and much will continue to be said, on both sides of this question, into which we do not propose to enter: admitting, however, that the Latin language, for example, is less necessary now than when it was the exclusive language of the learned, and that the modern languages have emerged from their then Patois condition, and risen in relative importance, a certain knowledge of that tongue, as well as of the Greek, ought still to form part of the education of every gentleman. The mind of youth cannot be better engaged, during the early period of their university career, than in becoming acquainted with the classic models of antiquity, and practised in the habits of discrimination which the study engenders. Whether it should be prosecuted to the extent inculcated at the English universities, and to the comparative exclusion of other subjects, is another question. In this country, at least, the course would be injudicious and unfeasible, and has been canvassed by Mr. Gallatin with that gentleman's usual felicity of exposition. The illustrious founder of the University of Virginia appears, however, to have had different views on this subject from those we have expressed; and views which appear somewhat inconsistent with freedom of graduation in the separate schools.

In the earliest copy of the enactments, (1825,) we find it stated, amongst other matters relating to the attainment of honours, that "the diploma of each shall express the particular school or schools in which the candidate shall have been declared eminent, and shall be subscribed by the particular professors approving it. But no diploma shall be given to any one who has not passed such an examination in the Latin language as shall have proved him able to read the highest classics in that language with ease, thorough understanding, and just quantity. And if he be also a proficient in the Greek, let that too be stated in the diploma; the intention being that the reputation of the university shall not be committed but to those, who, to an eminence in some one or more of the sciences taught in it, add a proficiency in those languages which constitute the basis of a good education, and are indispensable to fill up the character of a 'well educated man.'"

Without dwelling on the unreasonableness of denying a diploma to one who has sufficient knowledge of mathematics, or chemistry, or of natural or moral philosophy, because he may not be thoroughly acquainted with Latin, we cannot avoid expressing our surprise that it should not have struck that philosophic individual, and his respectable colleagues, as being a total prohibition to graduation in certain departments. To be able "to read the highest classics in the Latin language with ease, thorough understanding, and just quantity," would, of itself, require as much time as the majority of our youths are capable of devoting to their collegiate instruction. Accordingly, we find, from the printed enactments, that the faculty judiciously suggested a modification of the rule relating to graduation, which was confirmed by the board of visiters. As it now stands, it merely requires that every candidate for graduation, in any of the schools, shall give the faculty satisfactory proof of his ability to write the English language correctly.

For a university degree, then, the subject of ancient languages should certainly be one element. This, we believe, is conceded in all colleges: at least, the only exception with which we are acquainted, is that of William and Mary, in Virginia.

As little doubt can there be, with regard to mathematics; which has, in some institutions, been esteemed the study of primary importance. The utility of a certain acquaintance with numbers and magnitude, is obvious in every department of life; but the greatest advantage from the study, is the precision and accuracy which it gives to the reasoning powers. When the student has attained this more elementary instruction, he is capable of undertaking, satisfactorily, the study of physics, and of becoming acquainted with the bodies that surround him, and the laws that govern them, as well as of entering upon the science of moral philosophy, and of comprehending the interesting subject of his own psychology.

These seem to be the only departments that need be acquired for a university degree. They embrace an acquaintance with the ancient classics, and the philosophy of language, as well as with mathematical, physical, and metaphysical facts and reasonings; and their acquisition enables the student to enter upon professional or political life with every advantage.

We have said nothing, it will be observed, of the modern languages. The valuable stores to be drawn from these, especially from the French and German, are, of themselves, attractions which render unnecessary collegiate restraint or recommendation. No one can now be esteemed well educated, who is thoroughly ignorant of them.

It has been remarked that the student is permitted, in the University of Virginia, to graduate in the separate schools; and that an evil exists there, in no course of study being advised. The consequence of this is, that few can be expected to remain, for any length of time, at that institution. We would by no means interfere with this graduation in the schools; but, in addition to this, there ought, we think, to be some goal of more elevated attainment, which might excite the attention and emulation of those whose opportunities admit of their being well educated. Let it bear the title of Bachelor of Arts, or Master of Arts, or graduate, and, if a definite meaning be affixed to it by the college authorities, it cannot fail to be as well understood as the unmeaning terms, sophomore, freshman, senior-wrangler, &c. and let the requisites for this higher honour be graduation in, or a sufficient knowledge of ancient languages, mathematics, natural philosophy, and chemistry and moral philosophy. If this plan were universally adopted, a certain degree of uniformity might exist amongst the different colleges: the degree would be received as the test of literary merit, and the possessor be proud of appending the title to his name. At present, as Mr. Sparks has correctly observed, the "diplomas of this country, as they are now estimated in the United States, appear to be of little value."

The only other topic on which we shall pause, relates to the mode in which instruction should be conveyed, and to the examinations to be instituted, with the view of ascertaining comparative merit, and of exciting emulation. On this subject, as is well known, the English universities of Oxford and Cambridge, and that of Dublin, differ essentially from the Scotch and many others: the latter teaching, solely, by lectures delivered orally. The most successful plan is that which combines both lectures and examinations. It is but rarely, that a text book can be found to suit the views of the professor, and no student pays the same degree of attention to a written composition. Even in the departments of ancient languages and mathematics, where the combination of lectures with examinations would appear most difficult, a prælection, explaining the various points of the subsequent examination, may be, and often is, premised with striking effect. In the ordinary method of teaching the classics, little attention is paid, except to the vocabulary; and many a student has thumbed his Horace for the fourth or fifth time, without being aware of the import of the philological, geographical, historical, and other allusions, with which the inimitable productions of the satirist abound. The vocabulary is but the key, that unlocks these various treasures. In a well devised prælection, things can be thought as well as words. We do not, indeed, know any department of science or literature, in which a union of prælections and examinations may not be employed with advantage. There is, however, another and a more serious objection to confining a student, in most branches at least, to a text book:—the professor is not stimulated to keep pace with the rapidly improving condition of science. If indolent and devoid of enthusiasm, he confines the youth closely to the text,—takes no pains to advance him farther,—and the student leaves the institution with the most insufficient instruction on the subject. The text books which are used at this time, in some of our colleges, and have been so for the last fifty years, are melancholy evidences of the imperfect mode in which particular studies are taught there, and of the absence of all progress on the part of the teachers.

We believe the very best system of instruction, where it can be adopted, is:—to recapitulate the subject of the preceding lecture, and, after the lecture of the day, to examine the class thoroughly on the last lecture but one. In this manner, the facts and theories of a science are impressed three times, upon the memory of the pupil; and if, after this, he is unable to retain them, he must be pronounced incorrigible. This plan we conceive to be the superlative; and to this conclusion we are led, not from theory simply, but from practice.

The nature of certain subjects, and the shortness of time appropriated, in some institutions, to lecture, may, occasionally, preclude its fulfilment: the nearer it can be accomplished, the better. Under this plan, the text book becomes a matter of comparatively trifling moment,—as the student will, of course, be understood to come prepared for examination on the subject of the lecture, as delivered ex cathedrâ.

With regard to public examinations, we need not dwell on the question of their policy. All well-regulated universities in this country and Great Britain, at least, have a system of rewards, as well as of punishments; and this uniformity may be esteemed a fair criterion of the opinions of the wise and reflecting of those countries on this topic. However desirable it may be, that mankind should do their duty without fear or expectation, every day's experience testifies that the hope of reward, or the dread of punishment, powerfully influences their exertions, not only for temporal, but eternal purposes.

In the German universities, there are neither daily, nor semi-annual, nor annual examinations; and, accordingly, we are not much surprised to find them objected to by some who had received their education in that country. The difference, however, which prevails upon this point in the best colleges of different parts of the globe, ought to have suggested some slight qualification of the sweeping censures that were passed upon the system in the Convention. "The semi-annual examinations," says Dr. J. Leo Wolf, "as recommended by some of the gentlemen of the Convention, lower the student to the rank of a schoolboy, while, being a man, as he ought to be, they are useless, for he will know that it is for his own good, to be assiduous in his studies. Moreover, the result of his studies is proved at the time when he desires to graduate, and to be licensed for the practice of his profession. Then he must pass a strict rigid and public examination; and this I should warmly recommend. In Prussia, these examinations are particularly severe, but quite impartial and recorded." P. 251. So far as we can judge from the involved and almost unintelligible twaddle contained in the address of Mr. Woodbridge on the subject of discipline, we should conceive him opposed to these as well as to all other means, which would excite the emulation of the student; thus discarding, on faulty metaphysical speculation, one of the most powerful stimuli to all literary and honourable distinction; and which, if rightly directed, can never, in collegiate life, act otherwise than beneficially. Granting, then, that annual, or semi-annual public examinations are of excellent policy in all higher schools, it remains to inquire into the best mode of conducting them. The oral system is that received into most of our colleges. In it the students are necessarily interrogated on different subjects, so that it becomes a matter of difficulty, nay of impracticability, to determine, with any accuracy, their relative standing. Added to this, if the class be numerous, it is impossible to put a sufficient number of questions to each individual; and the bold and confident, will ever exhibit a manifest advantage over the timid and retiring. In every respect, the oral, seems to us to be inferior to the written examination, where either is practicable. In the departments of the languages—ancient and modern—an admixture of the two would always be requisite, for the purpose of determining the student's acquaintance with quantity or accent, etymology, syntax, &c.

The plan universally adopted into the higher schools of England, is that by written answers. The students of a class are all furnished with the same questions; and the answers to these are written in the examination room. All communication between the examinants is prevented; and no book allowed to be brought into the apartment. After the expiration of a certain time the answers are collected.

The English method has, so far as we know, been received into one of our universities only—the University of Virginia. It has now been practised there for five years; and, we have reason to believe, the results have been such, as to satisfy the faculty of its pre-eminence over the methods usually practised. The following is its arrangement as published in the Virginia Literary Museum.

"1. The chairman of the faculty shall appoint for the examination of each school, a committee consisting of the professor of that school, and of two other professors. 2. The professor shall prepare, in writing, a series of questions to be proposed to his class, at their examination, and to these questions he shall affix numerical values, according to the estimate he shall form of their relative difficulty, the highest number being 100. The list, thus prepared, shall be submitted to the committee for their approbation. In the schools of languages, subjects may also be selected for oral examination. 3. The times of examination for the several schools shall be appointed by the chairman. 4. At the hour appointed, the students of the class to be examined shall take their places in the lecture room, provided with pens, ink, and paper. The written questions shall then, for the first time, be presented to them, and they shall be required to give the answers in writing with their names subscribed. 5. A majority of the committee shall always be present during the examination; and they shall see that the students keep perfect silence, do not leave their seats, and have no communication with one another or with other persons. When, in the judgment of the committee, sufficient time has been allowed for preparing the answers, the examination shall be closed, and all the papers handed in. 6. The professor shall then carefully examine and compare all the answers, and shall prepare a report, in which he shall mark, numerically, the value which he attaches to each: the highest number for any answer being that which had been before fixed upon as the value of the corresponding question. For the oral examinations, the values shall be marked at the time by the professor, with the approbation of the committee, but the number attached to any exercise of this kind shall not exceed 20. 7. This report shall be submitted to the committee, and if approved by them, shall be laid before the faculty, together with all the papers connected with it, which are to be preserved in the archives of the university. 8. The students shall be arranged into three separate divisions, according to the merit of their examinations as determined by the following method. The numerical values attached to all the questions are to be added together, and also the values of all the answers given by each student. If this last number exceeds three-fourths of the first, the student shall be ranked in the first division; if it be less than three-fourths, and more than one-fourth, in the second; and if less than one-fourth, in the third."

This scheme combines the advantages of affording both the positive and relative standing of the pupil. And as those in the separate divisions are arranged alphabetically, it does not necessarily expose the lowest in the third division to the degradation and mortification, to which, however, they are often richly entitled.

The plan of examinations for honours and prizes, in the University of London, resembles the above essentially; differing from it, indeed, in few particulars. It comprises one regulation, however, which might be advantageously appended to the other. We copy it from the printed "Regulations"—Session, 1828-29.

"The paper containing the answers must not be signed with the student's own name, but with a mark or motto; and the name of the student using it, inclosed in a sealed envelope, inscribed with the mark or motto must be left with the professor, to be opened after the merit of the answers shall have been determined." This prevents the possibility of favouritism, in all classes, which are so large that the professor does not become acquainted with the autographs of his students. The examinants are there also placed, according to the merits of their answers, in classes, denominated the first, second, and third; provided the sum of their answers be equal to a certain amount; all below this point are not classed.

We have now touched upon the most important topics presented by the committee for the consideration of the Convention. Several others were propounded, but they seem to have fallen still-born from their authors. As regards the 11th, 12th, and 14th, "whether any religious service, and, if any, what may with propriety be connected with a university?"—"Whether any course of instruction on the evidences of Christianity will be admissible?"—And, "Is it proper to introduce the Bible as a classic in the institutions of a Christian country?" We shall gladly follow the example of prudence exhibited by the Convention, and pass them over. The affirmative view of the last topic, meets with an enthusiastic supporter in the author of one of the works, whose titles are placed at the head of this article.

One proposition only remains, on which, in conclusion, we may indulge a few remarks:—"The importance of adding a department of English language, in which the studies of rhetoric and English classics shall be minutely pursued." This subject, we regret to see, experienced the fate of others, more deserving of neglect, and was not discussed.

We have long felt impressed, that the organization of our colleges is defective in this respect. Into many of them the student is received, after having been employed in scraping together a few Greek and Latin words and phrases; yet lamentably ignorant of the literature, structure, and even of the commonest principles of the orthography of his own tongue. Such a chair ought to be established in all our universities, and a certain degree of proficiency in the subjects embraced by it, should be a preliminary to every collegiate attainment. It would be an instructive and delightful study to trace back, as far as possible, the language of Britain to its aboriginal condition, and to follow up the changes impressed upon it, by the Celtic, Gothic, Roman, Saxon, Belgic, Danish, and Norman invaders; the investigation being accompanied with elucidative references to the literature of the different periods. The poetry, romances, and the drama would constitute inquiries of abundant interest and information. To these might be added didactic and rhetorical exercises for improving the student in the practice of writing—not merely accurately, but elegantly and perspicuously.

Such a professorship has been wisely established in the University of London; and we trust the new University of New-York will follow the good example. If we may judge, indeed, from the ungrammatical and inelegant Journal of the Convention, an attention to this subject is as much needed there as elsewhere; and were the professorship in the hands of an accomplished individual, it could not fail to improve the literary taste and execution of the community.

Art. II.—The Life and Times of His Late Majesty, George the Fourth: with Anecdotes of distinguished Persons of the last fifty years. By the Rev. George Croly, A. M. London: 1830.

C'est un métier que de faire un livre comme de faire une pendule—it is a trade to make a book just as much as to make a watch—is a remark which was never better exemplified, than by the manner in which the craftsmen of the book-making trade in London, have compressed the Life of His Late Most Sacred Majesty, within the two covers of a volume. That exalted personage may have descended to the tomb unwept and unhonoured, in reality, however numerous the tears shed upon his bier, or gorgeous the ceremonies attending his interment; but he certainly has not gone down to it unsung, as the above work is only one of several, if we are not much mistaken, in which his requiem has been chanted with becoming loyalty. We have seen none of its fellows, though the advertisement of them has met our eye. Judging, however, from the reputation of its author, there is not much literary boldness in pronouncing it the best which has appeared about its kingly subject.

Mr. Croly is well known as a candidate of considerable pretensions, as well for the honours of Parnassus, as for those which an elevated seat on the prosaic mount, whatever may be its name, can confer. But, in concocting this last production, it is beyond doubt, that the main object he had in view, was one of a more substantial kind than a mere increase of fame. "The Life, &c." is, in fact, a bookseller's job, executed, we allow, by a man of genius. There are evident marks about it of hasty and careless composition,—of a desire to make a book of a certain number of pages, with as little trouble and delay as possible. The style is often deficient in purity and correctness, and overloaded with glittering tropes and ornaments, not always in good taste; the arrangement wants consecutiveness and perspicuity; and attention is sometimes bestowed upon topics comparatively unimportant, to the detriment of such as are of more moment. But it is, on the whole, a work of undeniable talent, containing much powerful writing, richness and beauty of diction, graphic delineation of character, interesting information, and amusing anecdote. Some of the author's sentiments are obnoxious to censure, and we shall venture to disagree with him, occasionally, as we proceed.

It was on the 8th of September, 1761, that His Majesty, George the Third, espoused Sophia Charlotte, daughter of the Duke of Mecklenburg Strelitz; and, on the twelfth of August, in the following year, she presented him with a son and heir, to his own great delight, and the universal joy of the British empire. Ineffable as is the contempt which is expressed at the present day, for the superstitious trust reposed in omens by the heathen ancients, yet nothing of any consequence occurs, without being attended by signs in which the Christian multitude discern either fortunate or disastrous predictions. It has thus been carefully recorded and handed down, that the birth of the royal infant happened on the anniversary of the Hanover accession, and that the same day was rendered trebly auspicious, by the arrival at London of wagons containing an immense quantity of treasure, the fruits of the capture of a Spanish galleon off Cape St. Vincent, by three English frigates. A few days after his appearance in this world, His Royal Highness was created Prince of Wales, by patent, and would have been completely crushed under the load of honours that devolved upon him, had their weight been of a kind to be physically felt; Duke of Cornwall, hereditary Steward of Scotland, Duke of Rothsay, Earl of Carrick, and Baron of Rothsay, were his other titles,—being those to which the eldest son of the British throne is born. There is no harm in this, perhaps, as things are constituted in England, but we have never been able to think of one of the titles to which the second son is heir, without feeling an inclination to smile;—the Duke of York is Bishop of Osnaburgh;—nothing more ridiculous than this, can be discovered even amid the nonsense that is inseparable from regal institutions;—born a bishop!

At the time of the Prince of Wales's birth, George the Third was at the height of popularity,—the reasons for which, Mr. Croly has detailed at some length. In depicting the character of this monarch, he certainly has not employed the pencil with which it was darkened, as our readers may recollect, by Mr. Coke of Norfolk, on a recent occasion, who thus brought upon his own head a torrent of abuse. It was shocking, was it said, to disturb the repose of one who had so long been slumbering in the tomb, in the same way as it had been pronounced monstrous to say aught in disparagement of His Majesty, when he had just been gathered to his forefathers; as if kings were like private individuals, the effects of whose acts either expire with themselves, or are of contracted influence. It is far, however, from our wish, to dispute the fidelity of Mr. Croly's portrait; and we are perfectly willing to believe, that "no European throne had been ascended for a hundred years before, by a sovereign more qualified by nature and circumstances, to win golden opinions from his people, than George the Third," though, we must be allowed to think, that circumstances did not qualify him to win "golden opinions" from us Americans. "Youth, striking appearance, a fondness not less for the gay and peaceful amusements of court life, than for those field sports, which make the popular indulgence of the English land-holder, a strong sense of the national value of scientific and literary pursuits, piety unquestionably sincere, and morals on which even satire never dared to throw a stain, were the claims of the king to the approbation of his people;" but all these claims were neutralized, by the appointment of Lord Bute, as his prime minister. The odium that resulted from this measure, was carefully fomented by the arts of demagogues, the most conspicuous of whom was Wilkes. It was ascribed to an unworthy passion entertained for the handsome nobleman by the princess dowager, and to arbitrary principles in the monarch; and, such was the effect produced upon the latter, by the opposition and virulence which he encountered, that he is said to have conceived the idea of abandoning England, and retiring to Hanover. At one time, his inclination to take this step was so great, that he communicated it to the Lord Chancellor Thurlow, who honestly told him, that, "though it might be easy to go to Hanover, it might be difficult to return to England."