tems of schools; and a professional horizon that includes the educational endeavor of the past as well as of the present, and of other modern nations as well as our own.

It often happens that a teacher of good personal qualities cannot teach. In such cases he may, for a time, get on fairly well with his pupils; but, eventually, the inevitable boredom of tedious and unproductive class exercises will make him impossible. Even proficiency in athletics (which covers a multitude of sins) or in other out-of-school accomplishments, cannot long atone for stupid and ineffective teaching. Moreover, every dull or pointless recitation is a perversion of opportunity for the pupils. Hence, to learn to teach well as soon as possible, in addition to the acquisition of good scholarship is the teacher's first duty.

What then, may we expect appropriate training in method to do for the intending teacher? The answer to this question may be arrived at by briefly contrasting, the untrained and the trained teacher's scholarship for teaching purposes, their usual conception of their work, and their teaching.

During his first years of teaching every young teacher finds that he must possess his resources in a new way. He must command them from the teacher's not merely from the student's point of view. To get this command consumes much time and energy and usually involves some anxiety. For many years, perhaps, he has not concerned himself with the elements of his subject. He has forgotten them, as such; they have become a part of the warp and woof of his knowledge. Now he must become conscious of them afresh. He must go over the details of these elements, as such, with care; he must note the teaching resources at each step, and he must also learn the best means of leading his student to use them.

If left to his own devices in this process of repossessing and revising his subject for teaching purposes, of commanding his resources from beginning to end, of seeing the end from the beginning, he flounders a good deal; his pupils as well as he are the sufferers, and the subject fails to yield its educational value to the pupils under his charge. If, on the other hand, he has re

cently gone over his subject with a view to teaching it under the direction of an experienced teacher-a teacher of method, the inadequacies of his apprenticeship as a teacher are minimized; because he now feels surer of his ground, he knows how to meet many of the difficulties that his pupils will encounter, and how to prepare his pupils step by step to master them. In short, what he has learned and studied will be for him like the constant help of a friend in need, a resource to which he can refer for counsel. progress will be steady and sure, and he will be spared the helplessness-the exquisite misery of conscious weakness that undermines the efficiency of many a scholarly student well-freighted with knowledge which he cannot use, because he does not know how.

The untrained class-room teacher is likely to be an assigner and hearer of lessons. The trained class-room teacher does not fail to set lessons and to make sure that the pupil has learned them as well as he could; but his attitude toward his pupil is that of an intelligent guide and a sympathetic interpreter, rather than that of inquisitor and judge.

The untrained teacher's interest is likely to be exclusively in the subject matter he is teaching-his specialty; the trained teacher's interest in his subject is also great, but his interest in his pupil is equally great, and furnishes the guide to the sequence and correlation of topics, and to the distribution of emphasis in instruction. In other words, the untrained teacher is concerned about having his pupils learn as much of the subject as possible; the trained teacher also wishes his pupils to learn the subject, but he teaches the pupils by means of the subject—the subject is a means to an end, not merely an end in itself. The untrained teacher is rarely interested in the acquisition of scholarship, the processes by which mastery is won, and usually dispenses information to all alike by measurement, so much each day; the trained teacher shares his scholarship with his pupils as they need it, or are able to profit by it; he studies the means of approach to each mind, correcting false impressions here, supplying omissions there and enriching the whole as opportunity and occasion require or warrant. The untrained teacher usually cares little for the pupil's failures, except to record them; the trained teacher

studies the pupil's failures as well as his successes, and seeks to lead the erring, or bewildered, or helpless pupil to success; he knows that the struggling pupil's shortcomings constitute the teacher's opportunity. The untrained teacher possesses his subject as the student possesses it, as a personal possession; the trained teacher has worked it over bit by bit, with a view to teaching it to another-with a view to the uses to be made of it in awakening enthusiasm and insight, and especially in the attainment of the sense of achievement by his pupil. The student's attitude and the teacher's attitude toward a subject are therefore quite different. The student seeks to master the subject for its own sake; the teacher has mastered it for its own sake, and now scrutinizes it with a view to helping another to master it for himself with the utmost economy of time and effort.

The answer to our first question is, therefore, this: we may expect the trained teacher to show more immediate and progressive efficiency than the untrained teacher, because we have helped him to minimize the inevitable blunders of inexperience by making him conscious of his resources, and showing him how to use them in the interests of his pupil; we have layed the foundation for progressive efficiency by disposing him to find his chief interest in the progress of his pupils in knowledge and power under his guidance, and in their enthusiasm, no matter how often he goes over the "same ground"; we have helped him to make his teaching interesting, because we have led him to see that the pupils' interest depends on the conquests achieved by the pupils themselves, appropriately supplemented and enriched by his own contributions; so that although they will often forget details, their sense of achievement may be constant, and their memory of beauties revealed, or insights gained through the teacher's wise ministrations will be a constant stimulus to fresh effort, and an abiding pleasure.

If you ask me is this result actually attained by the trained teacher more expeditiously, more surely and more often than by the untrained teacher, I answer, yes; for, on the other hand, we have the testimony every year of Harvard and Radcliffe students who have had some training, and have begun their apprenticeship, under our direction, during half a year, in some nearby

school; and, on the other hand, we have the testimony of many teachers now in service, who had no such training, and who, consequently, had to experiment more or less blindly, and at the expense of their pupils, before they could beat out a reasonably successful routine. We have also the silent testimony of a mass, far too great, of inert and unprogressive teachers who also entered on their vocation without technical preparation, and who ceased to grow many years ago; who work without the inspiration of a deepening and widening professional consciousness, because they have always conceived of their work as a mere routine-a mill for grinding out their daily bread.

It is a pleasure to be able to say that the number of efficient and progressive teachers now in service who have developed a professional spirit by earnest and persistent study of their vocation is fortunately large. But they have attained their present professional attitude and efficiency at a great and unnecessary cost of time and energy, and, of course, in spite of, not because of, their lack of preparation.

So much for the training of the class-room teacher. I have still to answer my second question, what may we expect professional training to do for the college-bred teacher of experience who desires to equip himself for the highest efficiency as a supervising officer? We may approach the answer to this question, as before, by contrasting the actual work of the trained and untrained principal or superintendent, and of the conception held by them of the duties and privileges of their profession. In this paper I shall, for brevity, deal only with the equipment and work of the superintendent.

The superintendent's task bristles with problems, most of which, as a teacher, he touched only remotely, if at all; and which he must now solve wisely and quickly or the schools will suffer increasing harm. To expect him. to do this without previous serious study of the problems involved is, almost always, to expect the impossible. Naturally I can here deal only with a few of the most conspicuous of these problems.

The traditions of the superintendent's office, whether good or bad, are likely to govern the young or untrained incumbent, and tend to become the determining factor in his career. Unfortunately these traditions are often

bad, and their badness is so obscured by use and wont that their true significance is not perceived except by the trained observer; the existing conditions and practices, no matter how perversive of the real function of supervision, seem to be the natural and only ones under which, and by which, the superintendent's work can be carried on. Thus the untrained superintendent, like the untrained teacher, is likely to be a mere imitator. If his models happen to be good, he may ultimately work out his own salvation; if they happen to be bad, he is sure, in the end, to work out quite another fate.

Thus, if his models have been "politicians," he shapes his course accordingly, employing means and methods that may accomplish his ends temporarily, but which he must avoid if he is to succeed permanently, and count as a professional force, and not as a mere school politician. If his models have been administrators of external affairs, he is likely to follow their lead in that direction, and devote himself to working out a smooth running administrative machine, without perceiving that machinery is valuable only in so far as it promotes the carrying out of a wise and clearly defined educational policy. If his models have been "popular," because plausible and subservient to faction everything to everybody-he may be led astray by false appearances; he follows in their footsteps, only to realize when it is too late that such a policy renders him and his administration nerveless and halting; discredits his educational authority, because he is blown about by all the winds of doctrine; and unfits him to justify the expectations he has awakened because he is neither sturdy nor energetic enough to be entrusted with educational and administraitve guidance and leadership.

If his models have been passive, timid, and subservient instruments of the school committee, the untrained superintendent is apt to acquiesce in the false view that the superintendent is merely to do as he is told-that though he may be seen he should not be heard, save when officially asked to speak; and so he is apt to regard himself and often is merely the clerk or "servant' of the school committee. The trained superintendent is, also, of course, subordinate to the school committee, but at the same time his obvious superior resources enable him to win, and consistently maintain toward the committee.