Lest the effect of this final provision be misinterpreted, it should be said that scarcely ever, since the self-government system has got into thorough working order, has a girl carried her appeal past "the committee"-a standing body composed of the warden and all the proctors, which serves as an intermediary between the association and the faculty. In the rare instances, at an earlier stage, when the principal was called upon to settle a mooted point, she almost always found that she could, in good conscience, support the committee. This fact had three important bearings: it indicated that the elective officers of the association were uniformly temperate and just in their judgments; it reduced frivolous appeals to a minimum, and reacted upon the general conduct of the girls by making them more careful not to offend needlessly in the hope of escaping punishment by dilatory proceedings; and, finally, it convinced the pupil body that they were actually governing themselves, and not merely reflecting the opinions of the faculty. Since the paragraph just quoted was enacted, a court of equity has been established, before which are argued cases where a literal application of the rules would not fit some peculiar exigency.

In order that a proctorship shall not be regarded as an empty honor, its responsibilities are compensated by sundry privileges not granted to the rank and file of the school. A proctor "may break any rule to enforce one," although if she breaks a rule without such justification she ceases, ipso facto, to hold office, and a proxy whom she has previously selected succeeds her. She "may be five minutes late for breakfast," and may keep her light burning fifteen minutes after the last bell at night. She may extend her journeys in the city beyond the bounds set for her fellows, and visit at will some places which are forbidden to them except during certain hours; and when she has held of fice eight times she enjoys thereafter all the privileges and immunities ever given to any one.

Not simply in the constitution and rules is the self-government idea planted in Mrs. Sperry's school. The association has somewhat the character of a social club, and questions of apparel and eti

quette which schoolgirls are wont to gossip about are taken up at stated meetings and debated to a finish. For instance: ought a jumper-eminently suitable as a working-garment-to be worn outside of the skirt at table or in any semi-public place? Is it decorous for a pupil to come to a recitation with her sleeves rolled up? Should young girls plaster their hair tight to their heads and drape it in thick wads over their ears? Are such and such recent fashions modest? On live issues like these every pupil has notions of her own, that she does not hesitate to express when the association thus undertakes a canvass of public sentiment, for there are no teachers present to curb anybody's freedom of speech.

Now and then the principal observes among the girls an unfortunate tendency in dress or manners. Instead of issuing an edict of prohibition, she calls up the subject at her next conference with the standing committee, and they thresh it out together candidly, keeping always in view not individual tastes or aversions, but the welfare and good name of the school. Whatever conclusion is reached at such a conference becomes in due time common property. The members of the committee, being saturated with their subject, are naturally the best equipped contestants in the debate which precedes any action by the association as a body; and whatever the association votes is recorded as the sentiment of the school. Sometimes it is formulated in a rule which the proctors are bound to execute; oftener it is left to operate as a moral force, just as the deliberate judgment of the community is used, in the broader life outside, to accomplish results which formal statutes are powerless to compass.

Into the same general scheme falls naturally the commercial side of the school management. Mrs. Sperry is resolved that no girl who comes under her care shall be warranted at a later period in excusing slovenly business methods with the plea that she has never been taught better. The school maintains a bank, which was planned and started by a professional accountant. In this, at the beginning of a term, is deposited the money a girl's parents wish her to have, either for her necessary expenses, or for her private purse,

or for both. She receives a pass-book, and a check-book with stubs, just as if she were opening an account with an ordinary bank of deposit. No minimum is set upon the amount for which checks may be drawn, so that she can not evade on that ground the payment of her smallest debt, but she is not allowed to overdraw so much as a dime. There is also a school store, where text-books, stationery, and similar supplies are sold at current prices. There a girl may, if more convenient, run up an account; she may do the same for laundry and other extras; but she is expected to settle her bills weekly. If she overlooks this requirement, the itemized memorandum is footed, and the bare total appears as a "bill rendered" at her next settlement, all dispute over details being barred by her neglect. She may not open accounts with outside tradesmen; every purchase made at the city shops must be paid for at the time or on delivery.

All reports, financial or disciplinary, all memoranda, and all communications, must be written either on one of the printed forms provided by the school of fice, or on a clean, smooth, perfect sheet of paper. This rule is designed to overcome the habit into which many girls drift, of scribbling on any rough scrap that happens to be at hand. For like reasons, the big blotter which overspreads every girl's desk is to be kept clean, the blotting of letters, etc., being done with a loose sheet. The overloading of bureaus and bathroom shelves with all sorts of toilet knickknacks-bottles, and boxes, and tubes-is actively discouraged. The furniture in the bedrooms is of the best, and the girls seem to take more pride in caring for it than if it were cheap stuff purposely provided to meet the hard usage of a boarding-school. Not more than eight framed pictures are permitted on the walls of any room, and no pennants; nor may any decorations be pinned to the window-curtains. Although this is not a domestic-science institution, every girl is expected to air, make, and otherwise look after her own bed. Thanks to these regulations, it is not difficult to distinguish the rooms of the girls who have longest at tended the school, by their freedom from trash and their generally restful appear

ance.

Announcements for the day are made at the morning assembly, and posted on a bulletin-board in the main corridor, after the custom at colleges. Study and recitation periods are forty minutes long, and quiet is demanded while they last; but between these periods are intervals of relaxation, during which the girls may run about at will and make all the noise they wish. In the school office are kept registers, on which every girl is expected to record her whereabouts whenever she is changing them for any appreciable time. By this means it is possible to locate any girl at any hour of the day, so that, if it is necessary to reach her speedily with a telegram or what-not, there will be no delay and no commotion.

Early in the history of the school there used to be hung on every girl's closet-door a printed list of "Rules and Regulations," which, in time, gave way to a corresponding list of "Household Regulations," modified later into "Regulations for Students." These in turn have disappeared, and such parts of them as experience has proved of permanent value now figure as an appendix to the constitution of the association, under the less didactic title, "Customs of the School." This series of changes is typical of Mrs. Sperry's whole evolutionary system. Her self-government programme, as we have seen, was not proclaimed arbitrarily at the outset, but was permitted to develop gradually, with the idea of impressing upon the pupils a sense of having earned various liberties which, being concessions to merit rather than native rights, are liable to revocation if abused. Indeed, the only penalties imposed for misconduct are temporary curtailments of privilege, which have sufficed for their purpose since being decreed and administered by a disciplinary mechanism in the control of the pupils themselves; and, albeit the girls do drop into mischief now and then, the tradition of truth-telling is so honored among them that but one case of falsehood has come to light in several years.

Among the requirements which the proctors have to enforce most rigidly are the precautions against fire. To every girl is given, on entering school, a little redcovered book containing definite instructions about the use of matches, inflam

mable substances, the lighting apparatus in the buildings, what to do in emergencies, and how to turn in alarms. The organization of the school fire-brigade, and the duties of the chief and her staff of captains and lieutenants, are also described in detail. In order to be sure that the girls understand these things individually, fire-drills are held from time to time, every officer making for her post at a given signal, and every other pupil performing the part assigned her for the common defence. Once a year, after the autumn opening of the school, the whole pupil body takes a day's outing in the country, combining a picnic with an afternoon's practice in putting out fires with portable extinguishers. The last task of a proctor every night throughout the school year is to visit the rooms in her building and see that no girl has neglected, before going to bed, to put in place her "fire-coat" and slippers, so as to be ready to act on the instant in case of a sudden alarm.

Of course, no school for girls can ignore instruction in deportment; but here again Mrs. Sperry's policy has been to let the girls work out their own problems as far as practicable. The faculty contains a teacher who has made this branch her specialty; but the way Mrs. Sperry went about interesting her young charges in the subject was characteristic. One Saturday evening she seated herself, as if quite accidentally, beside her arbitrix elegantiarum on a sofa in the drawing-room, and remarked to one of a bevy of pupils gathered in the adjacent hall: "Laura, I'm tired of visiting you girls in your rooms; suppose you come in and call on me, one by one.'

Amused by the suggestion, Laura sailed into the room like a ship in a choppy sea. "Oh, dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Sperry, holding up her hands in mock horror, "is that the way you would enter the parlor

of one of your mother's friends? No, no go back and try it again."

Laura joined in the laughter her companions set up at this, and did try it again. Her gait was better than before, but still left much to be desired.

"Janet," Mrs. Sperry called to another of the group, "what was the matter with Laura that time?"

Janet made an essay at criticism. "Can any of the other girls improve on what Janet says?" persisted Mrs. Sperry. Others tried, and in a few minutes the game was in full swing. The mistress of deportment would throw in a question now and then, and the merriment over the attempts and comments drew down a number of girls from the story above. By bedtime every one was keyed up to a fine pitch of competitive enthusiasm, and eager for more of the same sport on the next free evening. Thus the new course was launched.

More

This sketch would be incomplete without some reference to another feature of the school which keeps it in touch with the spirit of the age. The religious observances are few, all simple in form, all of a practical as distinguished from a transcendental order, all sounding the strong note of human brotherhood. Once in a while the Sunday evening chapel exercises are varied by reading aloud a story by John Galsworthy or some other eminent exponent of the new social order. over, Mrs. Sperry has convictions about the fair working-day and the living-wage, and carries them into the administration of her own servants' hall. Her pupils thus pass their most impressionable years amid evidences of consideration for those less favored of fortune than themselves; and it would be strange if their after lives were not influenced by the experience, as all of us are affected in our later careers by the atmosphere we breathed continually in childhood.

"Expatiation" in Education

OME attention has been attracted, in one of the suburbs of Manhattan, by the publication of a letter from a citizen, setting forth his indignation at the tasks imposed upon the pupils of the public schools. He gave a list of twelve essays required to be prepared by a girl of fifteen between two school days, including such light and frivolous inquiries as "the probable effects of the completed Panama Canal on the trade of (a) North Atlantic States, (b) Gulf States, (c) Pacific States" and "In what respects are the British and German Empires commercial rivals? Explain fully," and he closed by asking, “After a year or two of this monstrous nonsense, what can that girl possibly know about anything?"

The question looks reasonable. It is hard to imagine how the theory and practice of smattering could be more effectively stimulated than by imposing such requirements upon an immature and unfurnished mind. It is true that the school in which the requirements were made was not an elementary but a "high" school. True also that it does not follow that requirements of similar absurdity are made in other high schools. That, one may say, is part of the pity of it. At least it is a pity that not only the curriculum but the actual and detailed instruction of the schools of a State should not be standardized. There is a theoretic means to that end, in the commonwealth immediately in question, in the existence of the University of the State of New York. This more or less astral body was projected by the wisdom of our ancestors, not at all as a teaching body but as an examining body. The purpose of its institution was precisely to standardize public instruction, whether of common schools, of academies, or even of colleges which were chartered by the State, as well as of professional schools. It was intended that an A.B., for example, from any college in the State should be of exactly the same value as the like degree from any other. It is true that in those days all educated men knew just what an

A.B. meant.

Does anybody pretend to know now? It is true also that in technical education "the Regents," as the examining body has come to be known, exert an influence which is both good and considerable. You may have reasonable confidence in the dentist or the druggist to whom you intrust your teeth or your life if he have passed "the Regents' examination." But it seems that in general education, primary, secondary, and "higher," the local authorities have full sway. The local authority is a "Board,". and, as Jeremy Bentham justly observed, "Boards are screens. The members of the local board are not commonly men of much education, or of much interest in education; at least men of those qualifications are extremely unlikely to be in the majority. The quality of the schooling is in the hands of the local superintendent. If he be a man of some force of character, he "runs the Board." If his energy be greater than his circumspection, his cerebellum better developed than his cerebrum, he may run it into strange courses. If he prefers that his pupils expatiate and smatter, instead of concentrating and really learning, expatiate and smatter they generally will. There is a temptation upon him to commend himself to the members of his own calling, rather than to the members of his "board" or the parents of his pupils, both which classes are apt to be ignorant or careless of what he is doing. In that case wild work results if he happen to be given to "fads" and whims and unverified theories, instead of plodding on in the ancient ways. One of the "educators" of this class capped the climax of whimsicality when, in some pedagogical convention, he waxed exceeding bold and proposed to denominate the three R's as "fads," instead of the novelties which he desired to substitute for them.

In the State from which my text has been taken there is excellent ground for hope in the appointment to the place of State Superintendent of Education, and organ of "the University" in its superin

tendency of the same, of a scholar and teacher who commands far more of the respect of the learned than any of his predecessors who have held that office within the memory of man. It was not from representatives of that commonwealth that there came the bitter cries in Congress not long ago of representatives whose candidates for West Point and Annapolis had been rejected by the authorities of those institutions. It seems that not only was the result of the local schooling of the candidates unsatisfactory to the naval and military "snobs," but also that the medical snobs of the army and navy had rejected candidates whom the local doctors had passed. It is well known that the mental requirements for entrance to these academies have been purposely made elementary-some think absurdly elementary-for the very reason that the representatives of the "back districts" remonstrated against educational exactions which those districts were not in a condition to meet. The "snobs" merely insist that the elementary requirements shall be fulfilled, and that the candidate shall really know what he is required to know. It is obvious that nothing can more militate against his really knowing anything than an educational policy of expatiation and smatter.

H

UMAN nature abounds in perplexing qualities, traits for which there are no reasonable reasons to give. We are continually puzzled by our own manifestations or by those of the people whom we know; and perhaps there is no attribute more difficult to explain than shyness.

To be sure, it is only the shy folk themselves who have trouble with their analysis. People who are not shy understand the matter perfectly. Egotism: that Shyness

is the one word with which they state their explanation. Self-conscious vanity: thus they elaborate it. If the shy person, they continue, severely glad of the chance to express their disapproval-if the shy person would only stop thinking about himself, would forget himself and lose himself in his neighbor, his difficulty would be at an end and he would act and speak with out embarrassment. In other words, it is all his fault. He deserves no consideration for a state of affairs which he has brought

on himself and which he could at any moment terminate. He is perverse.

Now, of course, when the shy person is criticised thus, he feels himself to be, colloquially, in a hole. If he defends himself he justifies the charge. There is nothing for him to do but keep still, listen to all the advice, and then turn away, smiling to himself.

Smiling, mind you! The shy person simply has to take himself humorously or he is lost. An amused appreciation of his own absurdity is his one means of inner self-defence, his one chance of triumphing over a cruel fate. If he can laugh, really laugh with enjoyment, over the awkward and solemn vagaries which his temperament induces in him, he has scored something, defeated something, he is not wholly abject. Nor is this satisfaction merely the desperate makeshift which it might seem to be. There is a brave and pungent delight in wringing amusement out of depression.

But the depression is there; there is no doubt about the depression of being shy. Perhaps the self-confident person thinks that anybody would remain shy if he could help it! In the first place, there is an uncertainty about the situation which is fairly maddening. Shyness is a demon, a devil; and it has all the whimsical inconstancy of the nether world. It is not always active; it knows the value of contrast, the effectiveness of the cat-and-mouse method of occasional release. So sometimes it flatters its victim with a complete suspension of hostilities. That is glorious! Finding the paw miraculously removed from his back, the shy person shakes himself, gathers himself together, and plunges headlong into a veritable abandon of self-expression. There is no one like him for letting himself go when he has a chance.

We have all of us had experience of this reaction with the shy people we have known. Once, on an ocean steamer, I spent many fruitless moments in trying to win the confidence of a recluse of a young man. He was shy to the vanishing-point. He had wistful, thoughtful, intelligent eyes, and he piqued my interest; but he would have nothing to say for himself and nothing to do with his fellow-passengers. Steamer life is hard for shy people, it is so crowded, so hailfellow-well-met, that it puts to rout the bashful. I felt sorry for my young man;