THE CONDITION OF SCHOLARSHIP IN THE COLLEGE

The request that I speak this afternoon came to me as a considerable surprise. And this for two reasons: First, that I should be among those selected for that honor; second, that I should be asked to speak upon the subject of scholarship, which I had thought tabooed, at least by custom, at the great majority of alumni gatherings. I had assumed, and I think with some reason, that though the alumni were deeply interested in the College and most phases of its undergraduate life, the same degree of interest did not extend to scholarship.

And yet, the position of scholarship constitutes the most difficult and most momentous problem before the American college today. Scarcely a speech of any college president or other person intimately acquainted with college teaching or administration fails to treat of it, either briefly or at length. Scarcely is there an academic occasion at which the subject is not discussed. Magazine articles and newspaper editorials bring it continually to our attention. It has aroused the interest of thoughtful men throughout the country.

The subject is a particularly difficult one for the undergraduate to deal with, especially in a short address. The man who speaks of social life at Dartmouth may point to College Hall, to fraternity houses, to smokers, to faculty receptions; he who speaks of athletics, to strong teams and memorable victories; he who speaks of journalism, to The Dartmouth, its historical development, its purposes, achievements, and quality as compared with that of similar publications. But the man who speaks of scholarship has no such pegs upon which to hang his remarks, no concrete incidents about which to group his thought. Moreover, numerical grades covering a period of years, by an examination and comparison of which definite conclusions might be drawn, are not conveniently at hand. His information, therefore, is derived for the most part from impressions received during his own course.

But he enjoys one distinct advantage. As a member of the student-body, he has an opportunity to hear conversations at College Hall, fraternity houses, students' rooms, and other places where men congregate, thus being able to discover the attitude of his fellows toward various matters of interest, including scholarship. And, after all, it is this attitude that determines the position of scholarship in this or any other college.

In my further remarks, I shall, in the first place, attempt to answer two questions. First, does scholarship at present occupy its proper place in Dartmouth College? Second, has it improved or deteriorated during the last four years? I shall then take the liberty of expressing my own opinion concerning the needs of this most important phase of undergraduate life.

The first question I am obliged to answer decidedly in the negative. A considerable body of men will tell you that a high quality of scholarship is not worth while, that the result is unworthy of the necessary effort. Others—and these are often the ablest men in college—are not doing the quality of scholastic work of which they are capable, because they do not have time to study; these are the men in "college activities," the men who engage in athletics, dramatics, journalism, literary work, fraternity work, glee club, etc. Often a passing grade is desired not for its own sake, but to secure the privilege of participating in these activities; the latter, properly only accessory or incidental, are too frequently considered fundamental. But the great body of men are doing a mediocre grade of work and would be unable to give any reason at all for it. To be sure, a small proportion are doing work of a high quality as reckoned by numerical grades, but these men are often of the "grind" type, that is, men of good memory who apply themselves diligently, rather than men of constructive mental ability.

What are the causes of this condition ? First in order of importance I would name laziness, pure, unadulterated laziness. Study is distasteful; it requires effort, intense and sustained. How much easier to "skim over" the lesson and then to lounge and smoke! Asa second cause, I would say that "college activities" offer greater inducements than scholarship. Their rewards are immediate, visible, and considered highly desirable, consisting as they do of excitement, popularity, leadership, membership in influential fraternities and societies, and sometimes of newspaper notoriety. Third, the type of man who is at present attaining high scholastic rank is a type that no healthy American youth would care to represent. The latter reasons thus: "If scholarship makes that sort of man, I would hate to be a scholar." And so, neglected by the lazy, overshadowed by other activities, and done greatest injury by its most faithful devotees, scholarship quite fails to occupy its proper place.

But to our second question. During the last four years, has scholarship improved or deteriorated ? It has improved. I believe that when I entered college, high standing counted somewhat against a man in the eyes of his fellows; I believe that today, other things being equal, it counts in his favor. One does not hear the "grind" slightingly referred to so often as formerly; and after all, it is the characteristics of that unfortunate individual rather than his scholarly attainments that call forth censure. I hear more discussions the subject-matter of which is furnished by college courses. An instructor is subjected to a severer and more intelligent criticism than ever before, both as a man and a teacher, and if he falls below accepted standards, undergraduate opinion does not deal gently with him; if, on the other hand, he rises above those standards, he is secure in popularity and his courses are crowded. All these are indications of improved conditions.

The College authorities have long been aware of the inadequate attention given to scholarship, and recently have adopted measures calculated to bring about some further improvement. For instance, ambition to take honors has been encouraged by somewhat lowering the requirements. High scholastic rank has been brought to the notice of the student-body —or at least to the small fraction of it actually present at the exercises— by "Honor Night." Upon this occasion the Phi Beta Kappa key was awarded to certain men at the beginning of their senior year instead of at the close as formerly, and the names of all. men attaining high standing, whatever their class, were read aloud' by the President. A new cut system has been inaugurated, which should bring forth good results.

But though there has been some improvement already and we have reason to hope for more, we have not gone to the root of the matter; our measures have been mere palliatives, while the great cause of the present unfortunate condition remains undiscovered, or at least unremedied. And what is this great, this fundamental cause ? It does not lie with the undergraduate; it lies neither in his indolence nor the various fields of activity that he has created for himself. It lies with the teacher. Only one thing can arouse the indolent man from his lethargy, only one thing can draw the man of ability from his "college activities" to scholarship; and that thing is interest. It is the part of the teacher to create and maintain this interest, and he has not done it.

This cause is not confined in its operation to Dartmouth, but exists in other colleges throughout the country. Nor do I attempt to assert that the. statement of it applies to all the instructors of this or any other college. But I do assert that college faculties generally are deficient in the right kind of teachers.

The statement of the cause comprehends a statement of the remedy: We must have more of the right kind of instructors. The right kind of instructor is not only an enthusiastic scholar, but something more: he is a strong, manly man; he has tact and human sympa- thy; his interests and knowledge are not bounded by the narrow limits of the subject he is teaching, but he has large general information and is able to converse even upon those topics nearest the heart of the undergraduate. At present the "grind" is the man who is going into college teaching; he was laughed at as a student and will continue to be laughed at as an instructor. But how different with the teacher whom we have described! Holding the universal respect and admiration, his enthusiasm for scholarship is contagious. Give us this type of man to guide us, and our scholarship will cease to be cause for uneasiness.

Speech of Maynard C. Teall '10, at the Secretaries' Meeting