viously discussed, then science, as a general pursuit, must mean a "study of laws." In the same way: if art primarily contains the idea of work, and if all good work is based on certain definite principles, then the space between science and art can be bridged.

Art takes the laws learned in science and puts them to practical use. It is a science when we study the laws of painting in order to find out how the great masters obtained their results, how they mixed their colors, how they produced certain effects in light and shade, but it is an art when we ourselves take up a brush, and obeying these laws try to gain similar results. In the same way it is a science to study the laws that govern language, to observe the way in which great writers expressed their ideas. It is an art when we ourselves take up our pencils and express our own ideas according to the laws that we consider best adapted to convey our thought.

I now dictated the two following definitions, which the children placed under their definition of law :—

Rhetoric is the science in which we study all the laws that govern language. Grammar is the science in which we study that part of the laws of language that treats of the sentence. Grammar, therefore, is a part of rhetoric.

After this, progress was rapid, and the terms used were rich in significance. The children had words in which to express themselves, and a host of examples. Three quarters of the difficulty in teaching, especially in teaching grammar, come from an ignorance of the meaning of single words. Teachers expect children to swallow rules whole, and to digest them, when, perhaps, they themselves could not explain three words taken separately.

One child had studied grammar a year before I took her in hand, and yet she made the most absurd mistakes. At last by giving her to understand that there was probably some reasonable explanation, she confided to me with shame and trepidation that she "got mixed up" as to which were nouns and which were verbs, and that she could never tell an adjective from an adverb. She had learned that a noun was the name of any thing, person or place, and that an adjective modified a noun.

She had not the slightest conception that modify meant to change, and that a modifier changed slightly the meaning of some other word.

Once again we turned to Latin derivations. We found that nomen meant name, that noun came from the same root, and that noun, name, and nomen all began with the same letter. We imagined a community of monkeys suddenly gifted with human powers of mind and speech. I asked them what words would appear first. The answer was clear,-nouns. They would indicate their wants by pointing at some object and making a sound, which sound would afterwards be used to indicate that special thing. Verbs could not be explained according to derivation, but the children saw clearly that action words must come next, in order to facilitate the rapid communication of ideas. The word adjective clearly came from ad + jacio, to throw at; adjective therefore could be explained by remembering that it threw more meaning at a noun. Adverb meant a word added to a verb-adverb-to slightly change its meaning. It may seem strange that, when such difficulty was experienced in memorizing, I should insist upon Latin roots and prefixes. As a matter of fact, these children found no difficulty whatever in remembering if it were for the purpose of explaining some knotty problem.

Our progress was slow but sure. The little minds refused

to remember or become interested unless all the rules were rich in content and fitted together in one grand scheme. They simply could not absorb what Spencer, in his Philosophy of Style, calls "Isolated Dogma.”

Children of this type stimulate the teacher to her best work, and force her into minute explanations which perchance she never previously considered. The good effect of this slow training in reasoning on the bright minds, who could grasp rules in a superficial way and memorize enough for school purposes, can scarcely be measured. It produces habits of careful thought, and makes them read slowly what they previously skimmed over in a few moments.

This discussion might be carried on ad infinitum, but enough has been written to define the problem and suggest at least one method of solution. I firmly believe that part of the failure to develop slow-thinking children lies in the inability of the teacher to satisfy the demand for full explanation.

Music in Home and School

GEORGE E. CRAFTS, supervisor, BRAINTREE, MASS.

Some thoughts along the line of musical development, suggested by the addresses and discussion during the National Educational Association and other educational meetings held during the past summer.

HROUGHOUT the educational meetings the steadily increasing recognition of the influence of music upon mind and character was very much in evidence; and one way in which it was shown was the apparent certainty that very soon some proficiency in the knowledge of music would be accepted as a qualification for admission into the colleges, and already in many, including Harvard, it stands on the same basis as regards credits as any other study with the exceptions of English, literature, and mathematics.

This will have a marked tendency to make the teaching of music in public schools much more general and of a higher character; and one marked improvement is in requiring individual recitation in singing as well as in regard to the rudiments of music, which method is being adopted in many places.

This was finely illustrated at one of the sessions of the National Educational Association by a class of ninth grade pupils: girls, and boys also whose voices had recently changed, sang alone, at sight, exercises of more than ordinary difficulty before an audience of about a thousand people, most of whom were supervisors of music in schools.

Another thought which was emphasized was the need of more careful treatment of the voice than is now evident in our school work. An intelligent teacher uses the syllable "loo" or "00" for vocalization with a certain class or individual to accomplish. a certain result; another teacher, knowing this, will use it constantly and indiscriminately, without regard to need or result, until enunciation and tone quality have been ruined. This is one illustration of many that might be given.

Many supervisors have never studied vocal culture; others have not studied to advantage; and both classes are totally unfitted to train the child voice, which work is of supreme

importance.

Year after year the voices are deteriorating until in such a community a singer would be a singular rarity; whereas if music were properly taught the most splendid results in vocal culture and singing might be accomplished.

One advanced thought, which was dwelt upon at length, wast the fact that modern psychology recognizes that the best method of teaching is to develop knowledge from material stored in the sub-conscious mind; for instance, children at first should sing constantly beautiful songs, unhampered by a single thought of rudiments, and should also have the privilege of listening to good music, and thus unconsciously acquire a vocabulary of musical expression and a discerning and cultivated ear, developing the expressional and impressional faculties equally.

When the time arrives that this knowledge should become conscious, and some group of notes is called to their attention, as do, mi, sol, do, they instantly recognize it as a part of many of their beautiful songs.

The supervisor of music of the schools of St. Louis, in an informal address, said, "What we need to-day is the training of cultivated listeners."

If we will give the subject thoughtful attention we will agree with him. How many enjoy the really good music? How many can listen to a Boston Symphony Orchestra program with concentrated attention and pleasure? If the proportion is shockingly small in Boston, with all its unsurpassed advantages, what must it be in smaller places where they are less numerous or perhaps entirely lacking?

The supervisors in schools were called upon by the speaker from St. Louis to materially aid in changing this deplorable condition. How shall it be done?

The experience of the summer has suggested two ways to me in addition to those we commonly use. Prof. Leo R. Lewis, director of music at Tufts College, in speaking of developing a love, appreciation, and knowledge of standard music, called the

attention of the summer school to the immense usefulness of the better class of self-playing instruments, such as the mechanical piano players, and also the reed instruments for producing orchestral effects, such as the Eolian.

Tufts College owns one of the latter, the use of which is enjoyed by the students. They have access to the large collection of the circulating library, and the college owns many standard compositions-Beethoven's symphonies being on the list. Can one fully appreciate such music, hearing it played, as those most highly favored, once in two or three years?

Some of the students study these by running them through the instrument nearly every day for weeks, and then when they are familiar with every note, and the composition has become a part of themselves, who can estimate the keen enjoyment and uplift when they hear these performed by such an organization as our Boston Symphony Orchestra.

To many of us who listened the use of such instruments for the study of standard music was a new idea, and all felt that we would secure one at the first opportunity for our own home and schools.

On being questioned, Professor Lewis stated that in his opinion the most practical instrument for schools would be the piano player, as it was less expensive and easily transported from one building to another. What an inexpensive and yet wonderful help it would be in developing a cultured musical taste and keen enjoyment in something so elevating and refining in the people of this country as they pass through the public schools.

I visit occasionally a home in a town where opportunities for hearing good music are very limited, but where in spite of this fact, and also that the members of the family are not musicians, they have acquired a very cultured musical taste, and are more familiar with good compositions than many who have studied music for years. For some time they had the best of Edison's phonographs, and this year I found a fine gramophone, with a much choicer class of music than formerly.

To me the most interesting feature was the interest manifested by the little two-year-old daughter, who listened with pleasure and intelligence, as was shown by quick recognition of many