Chapter VI: =Greek and Latin=

277. As is well known, the exposition of grammatical distinctions and of the many turns of expression whereby language may become an adequate symbolization of thought, gains very materially in clearness by a comparison of the mother-tongue with Latin and Greek. Even with boys not more than eight years old the attempt may be made to utilize this advantage in the teaching of English, whether it has been finally decided, or not, that they are to take the regular classical course. Some boys learn, without much trouble, enough of Latin inflections to enable them soon to translate short sentences from the mother-tongue into Latin, and _vice versa_.

The present plan in Germany is to have boys in the gymnasia begin the
study of Latin at the age of ten. The study is continued for a period
of nine years. Greek is begun three years later and continued for
six years. In the United States the prevailing plan is to postpone
the study of Latin until the pupil enters the high school at the age
of fourteen or fifteen. Good private schools and many city grammar
schools permit children to begin when some two years younger than
this. The Report on College Entrance Requirements made before the
National Educational Association in 1899 suggested the propriety
of extending the influence of the high school over the two highest
grades of the grammar school, making in effect a six-year high school
course. For students who expect to enter college or technical schools
this plan offers great advantages, since it permits the desirable
preparation to be distributed over six years instead of being
concentrated into four.

278. This experiment will not, however, be long continued; since, with the large majority of pupils, the difficulties accumulate so rapidly as to lead unavoidably to the admission that the burden cannot be assumed merely for the sake of incidental advantages. Moreover, the customary view, handed down from the time of the Reformation, of the relation of the classical languages to the sciences, and to the needs of the age, is undergoing a change more and more apparent from decade to decade. The labor implied in the study of the ancient languages now pays only where talent combines with the earnest purpose to achieve the most complete scholarship.

This remark is prophetic of the enormous increase of instruction
in the sciences since Herbart’s day, yet Latin has also enjoyed a
phenomenal increase in popularity in American schools. According to
the Report of the National Commissioner of Education the increase of
enrollment in high schools for the years between 1890 and 1898 was
84 per cent, while the increase in the number of students pursuing
Latin was 174 per cent.[37] This surprising growth in the number
pursuing an ancient language can hardly be accounted for by increased
stringency in college entrance requirements in Latin, but must rather
be ascribed to a growing conviction among the people that the study
is indispensable in secondary education. That this must be the case
is seen by the attendant circumstances. In the first place, Latin has
become an elective in nearly all high schools; in the next place,
many rich equivalents are offered, both in science and in modern
languages; and finally our system of universal elementary education
has sent large classes of persons into the secondary schools that
have never previously been there. Yet the number of students electing
this study grows by leaps and bounds.

=Note.=--(1) The assertion is often heard that the ancient
languages supply a permanent standard by which to judge of the
progress and the decay of modern languages; also that the ancient
classics must be regarded as furnishing the models for purity and
beauty in style. These and similar contentions are undeniably
correct, and carry the greatest weight, but they are unpedagogical.
They embody the absolute requirement, but not that which younger
pupils need for _their_ culture; and the large majority of those
who are fitting themselves for official positions cannot afford to
make themselves guardians of language and style. They must take
language as it is, and acquire the manner of expression which is
adapted to the world of affairs. Those higher cares belong to
authors, but no one is educated for authorship.

(2) It is a familiar notion that the difficulty would diminish if
the ancient languages were begun later, that then the ability to
learn would prove greater. On the contrary, the older the pupil the
stronger the tendency of his thought-mass toward exclusion. Memory
work must be introduced early, especially where its usefulness
depends wholly on the acquisition of facility. It is essential to
begin early in order to make it possible to proceed slowly and to
avoid unpedagogical pressure. Four hours a week of Latin do not
hurt a healthy, bright boy, provided his other tasks are arranged
with pedagogical correctness. To put modern languages first would
be to put the cart before the horse. Useful enough, however, are
single French and English expressions relating to everyday life.
They will be of service in acquiring the pronunciation; but a few
phrases do not constitute the teaching of a language.

[37] Bennett and Bristol, “The Teaching of Latin and Greek,” Longmans, Green & Co., New York, 1900.

279. The manner of teaching the ancient languages, where they are regarded as a matter of necessity or conventionality, no account being taken of pedagogical considerations, need not be discussed here. It must rather be admitted at once that no pedagogical means whatever exist, whereby those who live with their interests strictly confined to the present could be brought to acquire, with genuine sympathy, the content of the works of antiquity.

American teachers in estimating the value of Latin for the high
school student lay more stress upon training in the mastery of the
mother-tongue than upon the literary contents of the classical
writings. Professor Bennett in his treatment of “The Teaching of
Latin in the Secondary School,”[38] places in strong light the
splendid linguistic training a youth undergoes when taught by a good
teacher of this subject. In Germany, since Herbart’s time, Professor
Russell tells us that the teaching of Latin has fluctuated between
two aims--“between that view which makes the classics a purely formal
discipline, and that other view which bases the worth of such a
study on the acquisition of humanistic culture, in contact with ‘the
best thoughts of the best men of antiquity.’ In the one case it is
considered of equal value as a means of preparation for all trades
and professions dependent on intellectual acumen; in the other case
it is of worth only for those who can practically apply the technical
knowledge thereby acquired, or may have sufficient leisure to enjoy
its æsthetic qualities. It is a question of making the ancient
literature a means to an end or an end in itself.”[39]

The dogma of formal discipline as a leading aim in education has
nowhere been more discredited than among Herbartian writers. A
judicious estimate of its truth and error is made by Professor
Hinsdale.[40] His main conclusions are as follows:--

1. The degree to which power generated by education is general
depends upon the extent to which it energizes the mind, and
particularly the extent to which it overflows into congruent channels.

2. Such power is far more special than general; it is only in a
limited sense that we can be said to have a store of mobilized mental
power.

3. No one kind of mental exercise--no few kinds--can develop the
whole mind.

4. No study, no single group of studies, contains within itself the
possibilities of a whole education.

On the other hand, American students rarely study classics long
enough to acquire much facility in mastering the literary contents of
the ancient writers. If, to considerable extent, the idea of formal
discipline is a delusive one, and the idea of a broad, humanistic
culture is an illusion of the American schoolmaster, we must justify
the study of Latin upon other grounds. The linguistic advantages
arising from it are obvious and decided. Among these stands first the
mastery of the mother-tongue, first through the comparative study
rendered necessary by translation, then by study of the roots of a
large part of the English vocabulary, and more remotely by the light
thrown by Latin upon history and institutional life.

There is an advantage in Latin of great, though usually unmentioned,
importance, and that is its peculiar usefulness as an educational
instrument, in that it presents to the pupil a graduated scale of
surmountable difficulties. In this respect it is surpassed only by
mathematics. The difference between a good and a poor educational
instrument lies in this: a study offering few surmountable obstacles
is a poor educational instrument, for the pupil can find no fulcrum
upon which to use his mental powers. Thus he may stare at a natural
object when directed to observe its characteristics, but he finds
it hard to think when no thought problem is presented to him. But a
study that involves thought problems of a definite and solvable kind
is a good educational instrument, for the pupil finds something to
move and a fulcrum upon which he may exert his power. Translation
from an ancient language exercises the working powers of a student up
to their highest efficiency, for the translation of ten sentences may
easily provide the hardest kind of work for an hour; if ten lines do
not, then more lines will. When a foreign language ceases to offer
such surmountable difficulties, we leave it for something else that
does offer them.

[38] Bennett and Bristol, “The Teaching of Latin and Greek,” pp. 11–32, Longmans, Green & Co., New York, 1900.

[39] Russell, “German Higher Schools,” Longmans, Green & Co., New York, 1899.

[40] Hinsdale, “Studies in Education,” pp. 46–61, Werner School Book Co., Chicago, 1896.

280. Pedagogically considered, every difference in the degree of vivid realization of antiquity, in the degree of its correlation with other main departments of knowledge, and in the extent to which a disagreeable aftertaste of school-day drudgery is prevented, determines the greater or smaller value to be ascribed to the knowledge acquired. If the same realization could be secured without the ancient languages and without the potency of early impressions, then the studies mentioned in preceding chapters, which outline the work of burgher schools, would leave nothing further to be desired; and the study of the ancient languages in gymnasia would be a necessary evil, highly as their incidental advantages are usually extolled.

281. But languages alone give to a boy a picture neither of bygone ages nor of men of the past; to him they are solely troublesome tasks imposed by the teacher. Nor can golden maxims, fables, and short narratives change his attitude. For even if these are well suited to the youthful mind, they do not materially offset the aversion to the work on stems, which have to be memorized; inflections, which must be practised; and conjunctions, which are required for guidance in the study of periods.

Ancient history (243, 246) is the only possible groundwork for the pedagogical treatment of the ancient languages.

282. Now it is true that if Latin is begun first, Eutropius and Cornelius Nepos suggest themselves as suitable authors for study, as soon as the merest rudiments of Latin have been learned in connection with instruction in the mother-tongue (277). And their use is not to be entirely condemned, provided the teacher takes it upon himself to make the past present through narration. But, as is well known, these authors are after all very meagre, and, besides, where to look for a path beyond them still remains an open question.

283. The reasons which accord to Homer’s “Odyssey” the preference for early use are familiar.[41] They are patent to every one who attentively reads the “Odyssey” with constant reference to the various main classes of interest which teaching is to awaken (83–94). But the question involved is not merely one of immediate effect, but also of finding points of departure for the later stages of instruction. There can be no better preparation for ancient history than to establish an interest in ancient Greece by means of the Homeric story. At the same time, the soil is being made ready for the cultivation of taste, and for language study.

To reasons of this kind, derived directly from the chief aim of all teaching and opposed only by tradition (the conventional _doing_ of the classics), the philologists will have to listen some time, if they are not willing that, with the growing importance of history and of the natural sciences, and with the increasing pressure of material interests, the study of Greek in schools should be pushed into a corner and suffer a reduction similar to that which has already taken place in the case of Hebrew. (A few decades ago Greek came very near being remitted for all but those intending to study theology.)

Of course, the “Odyssey” possesses no miraculous power to inspire those who have no talent whatever for language studies or do not take them seriously; nevertheless, as many years of experience have shown, it surpasses every other work of antiquity that might be selected in definite pedagogical effect. Moreover, its study does not preclude an early commencement of Latin (nor even of Greek, where that seems necessary); only Latin cannot be pushed with the customary rapidity at the same time; for the “Odyssey” requires an hour daily, and grammatical and lexicological work besides.

Experience has proved that the grammatical rudiments pertaining to declension and conjugation must be worked over very carefully first, although reduced to what is absolutely essential. Besides, the first lessons in the “Odyssey” ought not to exceed a few lines each time; and, during the first months, no accurate memorizing of words is to be demanded. But farther on the acquisition of a vocabulary must be vigorously insisted on; in fact, it becomes the pupil’s most necessary collateral work. By continued effort in this direction a considerable portion of the whole stock of words is gradually acquired; the language forms are supplied with the content to which they refer, and through which they become significant. The teacher must know exactly, not only when to hasten on, but also when to delay; for every perceptible gain in facility is likely to betray pupils into some carelessness which needs to be corrected at once. With good pupils it is not infeasible to read the whole of the “Odyssey,” since facility increases very rapidly toward the end. Nevertheless, such work should not extend much beyond two years; otherwise weariness sets in, or time is taken from other things. In schools it will be well to assign the first four books to one class, perhaps the class composed of pupils nine or ten years old, the next class to begin with Book V. To determine exactly how many books each class can work up thoroughly is unnecessary, as good translations can be used to fill in the gaps that occur. The reason for the division just made will be manifest at once upon a closer inspection of the “Odyssey.” Some books more advanced pupils may later on read by themselves, but they should be expected to render an account of what they are doing. It is not necessary at this stage to explain in detail the rarer peculiarities of the Homeric dialect. Such things may well be deferred until, later in the course, the study of Homer (of the “Iliad”) is resumed. The teacher who is afraid of the difficulties connected with the plan presented should remind himself of the fact that progress by any other path is equally beset with difficulties. While at work on Homer, care should be taken to keep pupils from being influenced simultaneously by such tales as those from the Arabian Nights, because they blunt the sense of the wonderful.

[41] These reasons apply in no way to the “Iliad,” but only to the “Odyssey.” Moreover, it is presupposed that religious feeling has been sufficiently awakened long beforehand. In that case the mythical elements can do no harm whatever, for, in so far as they are inconsistent with religious feeling, their effect is decidedly repellent, and renders an excess of illusion impossible.

284. Only two poets, two historians, and two philosophers need to be mentioned to indicate the continuation of the course. Homer and Virgil; Herodotus and Cæsar; Plato and Cicero. What authors should precede these, or should intervene, or follow, may be left for circumstances to determine. Xenophon, Livy, Euripides, Sophocles, and Horace will probably always retain a place by the side of those mentioned; Horace especially offers brief maxims, the after-effect of which the educator should by no means underestimate. It is obvious that Virgil and Herodotus are rendered much easier by taking up Homer first; on the other hand, the return to Homer (to the “Iliad”) during adolescence, is as little to be omitted, if only on account of mythology, as the return to ancient history for purposes of pragmatic study (250). Again, the syntactical scheme of the ancient languages, which involves far greater difficulties than do even inflections and vocabulary, is more easily mastered by placing the poets before the prose-writers, because then the pupils are not compelled to struggle with all the difficulties of sentence structure at once. At any rate, it is desirable that, just as the student’s Greek vocabulary is built up from the “Odyssey,” his hoard of Latin words should be drawn from the “Æneid.” The latter, however, will hardly be read entirely, because it cannot be gone over with nearly the same rapidity as the latter books of the “Odyssey,” when facility in reading has been attained. Cæsar’s “Bellum Gallicum” must be studied with exceptional carefulness, since its style comes nearer to being a desirable first model for the student of Latin than the style of the other authors in use. After this has been accomplished, the strictly systematic teaching and memorizing of Latin syntax, together with selected brief examples, is in order as one of the main lines of work. In Plato several books of the “Republic,” especially the first, second, fourth, and eighth, constitute a desirable goal. That Cicero should be revealed to young minds on his brilliant side first, namely, as orator, need scarcely be mentioned. Later on his philosophical writings become important; but many passages require a fuller development of the subject-matter than is given by him.

Cicero should frequently be read aloud, or rather declaimed, by the teacher. An orator demands the living voice; the usual monotonous reading by the pupils fails to do justice to him. As regards Tacitus for school use, there is a difference of opinion. Generally speaking, authors that say much in few words are particularly welcome, not merely to the explaining teacher, but also to the responsive pupil. The opposite is true of Cicero; he must be read rapidly in order to be appreciated.

For a full discussion of Latin texts to be read, the reader is
referred to Professor Bennett’s chapters on “The Teaching of Latin
in the Secondary Schools,”[42] pp. 111–130. For a discussion of the
Greek texts, see Professor Bristol’s exposition in the same volume.

[42] Bennett and Bristol, “The Teaching of Latin and Greek,” Longmans, Green & Co., New York, 1900.

285. Experience has long since shown how much or how little can be done with students in Greek and Latin composition; and no method will ever be devised which would induce earlier than at present that degree of mental maturity which reveals itself in a good Latin style. So long as gymnasium pupils are no more select than they now are, the majority, so far as writing Latin is concerned, will begin something that will never lead to successful performance. It would be better, instead, to practise diligently that which can be achieved, namely, composition during the recitation hour, with the assistance of the teacher, and, afterward coöperative consideration of the appointed task, by the pupils. This plan secures the advantage of set essays without the disadvantage of innumerable mistakes, the correction of which the pupil rarely remembers. Joint labor is interesting, and can be adapted to every age. As a substitute for essays, abstracts in Latin of texts previously interpreted are to be recommended, these abstracts to be made at first with the help and afterward without the help of the book in question. To abstract does not mean to imitate, and ought not to mean that. To imitate Cicero requires Cicero’s talent, and unless this exists, the attempt to imitate, it is to be feared, will result in cold artificiality. Even Cæsar is not so simple that his style could be taught and learned. But many passages of Cæsar may be memorized; at first short sentences, then longer periods, finally whole chapters. The usefulness of this practice is attested by experience.