THE LIBERAL COLLEGE

Professor of Chemistry, Dartmouth College

What is the purpose of the liberal college, and how may that purpose best be attained ? These questions continually confront the professional educator, and they seem to be of no less interest to the public at large. Most individuals have their own ideas concerning education; what it is, and how it is to be attained, and many there are who exhibit little reluctance in putting forth these ideas in such ways that all may know them. As a result, the literature relating to education in general and to the liberal college in particular lacks nothing in volume, however much it may be wanting in clearness and focus.

Under these circumstances it is of the highest importance that"the college itself, from time to time, should enter upon a serious study of its ideals and its methods, with the purpose of finding out how well they fit the needs of the time. Such an investigation is under way at Dartmouth College; an investigation in which the endeavor is being made to appraise the workings of the institution and to discover, if possible, what it is doing well and what it is doing ill. With no preconceived notions, with no idea that change must be made for the sake of change in itself, with the endeavor to make sure that, if modifications of principle or method are to be adopted, they shall be adopted only after the most careful study of their probable effect, the material has been gathered, and is now before the faculty Committee on Educational Policy for discussion and synthesis.

The investigation has been taken up in various ways and by various individuals. The report of a committee of seniors has already been published, and has received very general attention for its thoughtful analysis of the situation from an undergraduate point of view. Meetings have been held with groups of younger alumni: men whose college days are sufficiently recent so that their impressions of the College are still fresh, but modified by some experience with the world. Each department of the faculty has submitted to the committee carefully worked out suggestions for modifications in the general policy of the College. Finally, as chairman of the Committee on Educational Policy, I was asked to devote my time for the second semester of the last academic year to the study of the liberal college in this country and in Great Britain, and to report to the President of the College whatever matters of interest might be discovered. The investigation thus put under way included visits to twenty or more representative institutions in the United States and Canada, and to nearly all the universities of England and Scotland.

The report of this investigation will have appeared before this number of the ALUMNI MAGAZINE is issued, and may be consulted by those who are interested in the details of the study. The Editor of the MAGAZINE, however, has asked me to prepare what may be called a brief summary of the conclusions there drawn, and this article is in response to that request. It should be emphasized that these conclusions are personal ones, to be used merely as possible starting points for the discussion of the faculty committ ee in charge of the matter and of the faculty itself. The final decision of that body may have no resemblance to the views here presented.

The American college of liberal arts is a unique institution. In other educa- tional systems the transition from the method by which the school boy is. trained to that by which the man is edu- cated comes at a point at which a shift is made from one type of institution to another. With us that step must come in the midst of the college course. The freshman is in general a boy in his intel- lectual outlook: physically and mentally he becomes a man during his under- graduate days. The college must see to it that its methods change to meet his in- creased maturity. The necessity of mak- ing this transition effective imposes diffi- culties upon the college which are en- countered by no other institution of its kind, and imposes upon it both responsi- bilities and opportunities which must be met with intelligence. In particular, the primary purpose of the institution must be clearly in mind, and its work must be so planned and administered that such purpose shall ever be an effective guiding principle.

There has never been a lack of definitions of the purpose of the college. Some of them are to the point, some of them, more pretentious than effective, are impossible of realization. We must limit our aims to results which are possible to attain, to objects which are within our reach. When thus considered the purpose of the college becomes primarily intellectual : its aim must be so to develop those innate mental qualities which a youth may possess that he becomes, first, a better companion to himself through life, and, second a more effective forcein his contacts with his fellow men. In other words the college must arouse and develop the intellectual curiosity of its students so that, more than they otherwise would, they become a part of the world of thought in which they live.

Such a definition lacks the glamor which statements of the object of the college frequently made by educational leaders sometimes possess. We are told that the college should train in citizenship, that it should develop leaders, that it should make its students men of high character. It is desirable that all these results be attained, but they are not to be obtained by conscious cultivation; they come rather from the unconscious influence of men possessed of these attributes, who from their connection with the college are in a position to make that influence potent. The institution should do all it can to retain such men within its fold: it should strive to obtain recruits who possess such characteristics, but beyond that it cannot go. In the words of Woodrow Wilson "The conscious cultivation of character produces nothing but that which makes a man intolerable to his fellows. Character is a by-product."

If we make the intellectual impulse the main motive of the institution we immediately encounter the depressing effect of the pedant. The most injurious influence to the attractiveness of the intellectual appeal of the college is the example of men, among the student body and in the faculty, in whom scholarship is confused with a meticulously minute knowledge of relatively useless details, and in whom the acquisition of information is magnified at the expense of all the other qualities which make a man agreeable to his fellows. These men are regarded as the typical products of the intellectual life, and the youth who regards them as such has no desire to follow their example. The student must be made to realize that such men constitute no true pattern of the individual with wide intellectual interest. Pedantry must be disentangled from scholarship if the attractions of the latter are to appeal to the normal youth. He must come to know the resources of the intellectual life, of the new fields of enjoyment which it brings, of the expansion of interests which it makes possible, of its worth in itself. Pedantry often is not scholarship; sometimes it has about it little that is really intellectual; and the student must come to know that fact.

If the development of intellectual curiosity is considered to be the central purpose of the college, what success does the institution have in the attainment of its aim? It must be confessed that the answer to this question is not as satisfactory as we might wish. Too often the graduate differs from the freshman most largely only in those physical and intellectual changes which are normal in the development of the man from eighteen to twenty-two. Too often the intellectual stamp of the college is so faint as to be hardly discernible. But if we are properly to analyze the situation we must divide the responsibility. The share of the college in its failure to arouse the intellectual curiosity of many of those under its charge is heavy enough, but the blame is not upon it alone. If we are to form a clear idea of what changes may be made in the institution so that it may better meet its obligations, we must separate those factors in which its responsibility is direct from those which are beyond its control; from those handicaps which are inherent in the situation and which must be reckoned with as the normal outcome of the social order from which its student body is drawn.

That this social order does bring certain disadvantages in its train is evident to the most cursory observer. Speaking generally the college cannot be confident that the home environment of the student has been such as to have aroused his intellectual impulses to such an extent that in him a reasonable background for college work has been formed. In many cases it cannot count upon a sympathetic appreciation of its primary purpose in the home, or even an understanding of its nature. It cannot count, from home or from lower school, on training in industry, concentration and responsibility, which must be present if the work in the college is to be effective. It can count upon forms of social organization, taking in college the guise of the system of fraternities, which, however desirable in other respects they may be, act as a handicap to the institution in the attainment of its intellectual purpose. It can count upon all-prevailing interest in sport which has led to the system of intercollegiate athletics; a form of collegiate activity in favor of which much may be said, but which constitutes an unquestioned obstacle to the most satisfactory accomplishment of the intellectual aim of the institution. And so it goes.

These things are not said in criticism of the background of the American youth, but rather in recognition of its effect upon him and upon the institution of which he becomes a part. Criticism does not affect the matter in one way or another; the Condition of things is as it is; and the college can do nothing to change it. If it is to be successful in its purpose it must recognize that these conditions prevail, it must plan its work with full knowledge of their effect, it must succeed in spite of their influence. Methods of repression, except as they serve to keep excesses in check, are ineffective. Unless the whole American social order is changed you cannot by faculty fiat smother developments normal to that civilization as they occur in the college. The method of the college must be based on a logical understanding of the circumstances which confront it, however difficult of attainment that method may prove to be. It is the task of the institution to make the importance of the intellectual purpose of the college loom so large in the eyes of its students that matters really subordinate sink to their proper subordinate position. If that is done, the purpose of the college is attained ; if it is not done, no method of repression, no method of tinkering with details, will have the slightest real effect, It is no easy matter to reach this end. Perhaps it cannot be gained. But the desirability of such a result seems so great that every effort should be put forth to attain it.

What method should be used? That can be decided only after long and careful study. The suggestions which are here offered are merely tentative and are put forth only as an approach to the problem. Many things may be learned from a stud}'' of higher education in England and Scotland; some of them things to be avoided, others affording hints which may be helpful in solving the problem at home. Three of the many outstanding features of British practice will be mentioned at this point; the three which seem most to offer contrast with American conditions.

I. It is necessary for the graduate of the British university to know someone thing well. Not only must he know it but he must be able to handle himself in some realm of knowledge with a degree of self-confidence which can come only from a real mastery of its subject matter. A course made up of a patch work of snippets of this, that, and the other, cannot lead to this result. The most emphatic condemnation of the American system of education by the English educator centers around the disconnected and incomplete nature of the curriculum and its failure to go reasonably far in someone thing.

11. The British student is expected to do much by himself. It is recognized that he can read, and it is assumed that he will do so. It is not considered necessary therefore for the instructor to give him in detail material which he should be able to obtain for himself. The function of the teacher begins at this point. He is of assistance in correlating and synthesizing material already absorbed. The English student is thus far more an agent in his own education than is his American brother.

III. Under no circumstances is the man of exceptional ability neglected in order that the student of low capacity may be lifted bodily over the difficulties which confront him. The attention of the whole university is turned to the upper part of the class, rather than to the lower. The stress "is thus put upon the man who will be most benefited by it and his less talented compeer is allowed, more or less, to shift for himself.

With these points in mind we may return to our consideration of the workings of the American college. Let us first consider the question of curriculum. Two theories prevail. The first is that there exist in the field of knowledge certain subjects so all-important that no educated man can be without them. These subjects are to be chosen by the faculty in its superior wisdom; the student is merely to follow the prescriptions laid down. The Dartmouth curriculum, more than that of any institution visited, is based on this principle. In it over half of the entire course is prescribed, or is elective with such narrow options as to make it practically so. The disadvantage of such a course is obvious. In the attempt to make all students follow the same path, we lead them in ways tiresome to them, and irksome for them to follow. It is doubtful if, in general, men of college age profit materially by courses in which their interest does not lie. At any rate the college handicaps itself in making the intellectual appeal the center of the life of the institution by prescriptions which compel all men to follow much the same road.

The other theory is based on the principle that the mental tastes of men differ; that their interests are not alike. Each individual is a better judge of his own requirements than any outside group, however wise, can be. Consequently the student should be allowed to choose for himself, his election of subjects should be subject to no dictation from above. This system in its most complete form has been found to be ineffective because the undergraduate, although probably he is in a position to choose wisely for himself, in many cases has no desire to do so. He selects subjects which require as little effort as possible. In its extreme form the elective system is now followed by no American college.

Most institutions now embody in their curriculum a combination of the two systems, but in many cases the combination does not work so well as might be desired. From a study both of English and of American methods the following suggestion for a course of study may be worth consideration.

I. In Freshman year a very large degree of prescription. The incoming student is still a school boy: he lacks the range of knowledge and mental maturity which are necessary to make his choice a wise one. He must be treated as befits his status. Sufficient freedom should be provided so that he may follow any particular interest which he may have formed, but most of his work should be definitely prescribed.

II. After Freshman year freedom of election should prevail, limited only by a requirement of distribution among various fields of knowledge so that the educational development of the student may not be excessively one sided. In this requirement, however, a large range of choice should be permitted; it should not constitute a demand that certain definite courses be taken.

111. In Junior and Senior year a major, the subject to be selected by the student, more extensive in scope and different in kind from that ordinarily given in American colleges. It might well consist of two out of four courses in these two years; with the time usually given to the fifth course at the disposal of the major department. It should be planned not as a summation of separate courses but as a complete and homogeneous whole. In it the student is expected to do much of the work himself; he should by his own efforts and the aid of the instructors attain a degree of mastery in that particular field considerably greater than that which he now reaches. At the end of the course he should be subject to a comprehensive examination in that department: an examination which should serve to test not so much knowledge of fact as ability to use facts once acquired.

The object of the suggested plan is to make the intellectual appeal of the college more potent than it now is. It-may well be that it would not have that effect. But a plan by which greater opportunity is given than is now the case at Dartmouth for the student to mould his course upon the lines of his own interests, and one by which he could go much farther along lines of his choice, and do much of it himself, has in it elements which are attractive. It will not reach the lower stratum of the undergraduate body; no plan can be really effective for that group; but it may well be of more inspiration to men in whom intellectual possibilities exist than is the scheme now in vogue.

Coupled with the plan in all subjects of the curriculum, but particularly in the major, is the idea that more than now the independent thinking of the student should be the active process of his education. The criticism of the college to the effect that memorization without the use of the material memorized is effective in the attainment of success in college work is all too well founded; although the undergraduate critic is sometimes more troubled with his distaste for the labor of memorization than he is imbued with any real desire to think. Facts we must have, and the importance of the acquirement of them cannot be minimized, but the acquirement of facts without their subsequent use is a process stupid in itself and useless as a method of education. The requirement that he actually use, and use himself the material accumulated would, if generally practised, be found troublesome by many men. The ability to think is not so common as is sometimes thought and a real desire to do so, when the difficulty of the process is once understood, is even less frequent. But such a process is, after all, the only one by which education may be acquired, and as such it should be a continuous demand of the college in the greater part of its work.

Against .the tendency of the lower stratum of the undergraduate body to depress the whole scholastic tone of the institution the American college has never sufficiently contended. The man of high mental ability, who can meet the requirements of the college with ridiculous ease, has been largely permitted to go his own way; the main efforts of the institution have been centered upon him who needs all the help he can get to do his work at all. This process is admitted by all to be indefensible, and some institutions are making attempts to remedy the situation. Experiments with various types of honors courses are under way in a number of colleges, with reasonable prospects of success. It should not be a difficult matter to make special attention to men of intellectual promise a feature of the curriculum suggested above. However that may be, the development of men of high intellectual promise to the full limit of their capacities must be a part of the policy of any college which is to succeed in its educational aims,

The problem of the teacher is of prime importance in the consideration of the task of bringing the college to its highest usefulness. If we are to arouse in our students a large degree of intellectual curiosity in varied fields, we must do it by teachers who themselves possess that quality and who, by the power of contagion, can impart it to others. It is unfortunately true that neither in the training of the college teacher, nor, in many institutions, in those standards which measure his success, are these qualities rated so high as they ought to be. Graduate schools, whose main business it is to develop college teachers, concern themselves with one element of his training only: his competence in his chosen subject, and particularly his capacity for extending its limits. No one would deny the prime importance of this part of the equipment of the teacher, or would wish to proceed in a way by which it would become less effective; but it is not the only quality which a successful teacher must have, nor is it, all in all, more important than one or two others. Moreover the college instructor, the training period being over, is likely to find that his success in his chosen work is being measured largely by standards which have little to do with actual teaching efficiency. Competence in research is the prime qualification for advancement, and teaching skill is of relatively slight importance. No one would wish to lower the esteem in which the investigator is held, but it might be well, for the efficiency of the liberal college, if the really successful teachers were held in higher regard.

We need teachers who know their special subjects. But in addition we need men who know them, not as the center of all knowledge, but as a part of a great whole, with their relations to other fields clearly in mind. We need men of enthusiasm, men who love the work of teaching, who possess a sympathetic understanding of the psychology of youth. We need men who are interested in the problem of college education as a whole and whose vision of learning is not obscured by the over-magnification of their particular specialties. We have in our college faculties more of such men than seems reasonable to expect from the process of training through which they have passed, but we need more of them than we now have.

The limits assigned to this article by the editor have been reached, with many points in the report of which it is a summary yet untouched. Like other attempts to give in brief compass the gist of material the development of which extends over perhaps undue length, this article may seem scrappy and disconnected; possibly in the attempt at condensation misunderstandings of meaning may not have been avoided. The suggestions which have been made are merely suggestions; it may well be that plans quite different from those here set forth may prove to be better solutions of the problem. The college as it is cannot be regarded as ineffective in its operation; its results are not such as to condemn it as an institution. But no educational enterprise can maintain its ground by standing still; the progress of the world outside it will leave it far behind. So, in considering the institution, the problem seems plain: what shall be done to make its intellectual appeal more effective than it now is ? Whatever the solution may be the point of attack is here.