personalities under whose more or less disagreeable ministrations their impressions of military training were received. The mental tests given during the war helped to solve the problem of placing men in such positions as would permit their natural abilities to function to the best advantage. Yet men were taken from behind the ribbon counter and from the circle of professional pugilists and placed in the position of instructors although possessed of no qualifications for such positions except knowledge of their subject matter as they had acquired in a few weeks of training.

An obstacle to an understanding between the pro's and the con's on the question of military training is the different meanings that are attached to the term. Military training connotes, to many, everything which has become in any way connected in the mind of the individual with the army or with war. The superintendent of a certain penal institution for boys points with pride to the fact that he swept military training from the institution and cites among the items of that training, the methods of cruelty with which the internal discipline had been maintained. Military training is synonymous in his mind with cruel and unusual methods of punishment. A school principal states that he might have patience to listen to the arguments for military training if he had not spent so many days waist deep in the mud and slime of the trenches in France. His impressions are those received as a part of a fighting machine while the question is concerned only with the use of some of the instruments which fashioned that machine, as a means for producing better citizens. An educator writes that "military law and order are the result of an artificially wrought social mal-adjustment" blaming the instrument which made the tool with which the social mal-adjustment was combatted with having produced the thing itself. As well say: "Weeds are the result of a blacksmith's forge" because of the fact that with a forge hoes may be wrought with which weeds are destroyed. This question is concerned with the results that may be obtained in the

teaching of citizenship by the use of some of the instrumentalities that have been used in producing armies from which are demanded the "last full measure of devotion." We believe that by such means may be developed more strongly those qualities that shall cause our citizenry to be able to live for their country with a degree of efficiency which shall prove as great a national asset as the willingness to die for it. So it is asked that in following this discussion, preconceived ideas may be dismissed and that military training be considered (1) as a school subject (2) as presented by a trained teacher or, at least, according to pedagogic principles and (3) for the one and only purpose of training Americans for better citizenship.

The founders of Phillips Academy in 1870, gave as the purpose to be achieved by the teachings of that great school, the "great end and real business of living." This aim of education as now applied insists that the business of living includes the ability to live with one's fellow man. The man who can do this successfully is a "good citizen."

When people live in communities it becomes necessary that they be willing to permit the satisfying of their individual desires and needs to become secondary to what will best serve the wishes or needs of the whole as expressed by the majority. To this subordinating of individual interests to group interests is given the name of coöperation. Upon such as are ignorant of what the common wishes are, or who are not willing to work for the common good, the organized whole impress their wishes, taking such means as the circumstances or the development of the particular people may prompt. This body of ideas, is called the Law. Every act of the lives of each of us is predicated on observance of law-obedience. Honesty is obedience to a law of right which has come to be so thoroughly engrafted into the consciousness that the implication is resented that the demand by the law of the land or the law of the Divinity or the moral code influences our actions. It is still obedience, camouflage it as we may. It is not the natural thing for one to subordinate his wishes to those of another, and

to do so requires a degree of self-control. It follows that the development of an ideal of service of any trait of an altruistic character, is impossible without a willingness to obey the rules of conduct set for us by organized society and the growth of a self-control that makes the setting aside of our own natural wishes, under the stimulus of a community call of recognized justice, an automatic act.

The American nation prides itself on being a "free" country. This has developed into an active feeling of resentment against the restraint imposed by those rules of conduct to whose action they have not become habituated-whose bonds are still recognizable as bonds. American children are sent to school under the compulsion of acts of legislatures which carefully define the penalty for not meeting their provisions. This is done with no feeling that personal liberty is being infringed upon, for they have been led on this path so long that they follow it without tugging against the leading strap and so are not conscious of it.

Obedience is necessary in our factories. Rules are posted which state particular acts that are to be performed or that are to be avoided. The employee is still at absolute liberty to obey them or not but if he chooses not to do so the employer has a certain liberty concerning the pay check which he proceeds to exercise. But this is one of the rules that we take as a matter of course. A notice in a public park, however, that waste paper must be placed in trash cans is a challenge to our personal liberty and something to be violated with pride in showing our independence of taking orders.

The wheels of coöperative action may often be oiled effectively by making the order into the form of a polite request-by asking the coöperation of the public in keeping the park clean; by putting "Please" signs on the grass which it is desired to save from destruction by trampling feet. Thus courtesy comes to the aid and salves the national pride which smarts under the necessity of having to obey and flaunts the unwillingness to acknowledge the necessity of obeying. A people who ac

cept an arrogant verboten unquestioningly is not to be desired but there should be a clear distinction between the dignity of a respectfully rendered obedience and obsequiousness.

The basis of military training is obedience and courtesy. Both of these are violently attacked in our military system as being undemocratic and as being un-American in the setting up of classes and the compelling of one class to make formal obeisance to another. It would not be profitable here to enter into a discussion of the psychology of war that developed the military system. It must be sound or it would not have stood the test of centuries of use. It has been attempted in the preceding paragraphs to show that the willingness to take orders, to obey, is very necessary in a democracy; that a democracy does not imply that each shall be a law unto himself but on the contrary, that each shall consciously and willingly subordinate himself and his individual wishes and needs to the will of the majority. On that phrase, consciously and willingly, hinges the meaning of discipline. The act which is not done with the consciousness that it is the one set forth to be performed, and is not carried out with a willingness to coöperate with the authority under which the man is working, lacks the first principles of discipline.

The courtesy of the military organization is simply the courtesy of general social usage, systematized and made definite. Every courtesy demanded of a private has its reciprocal courtesy in the demand made on the officer. The presence of martinets in the uniform of officers should be held against the system no more than the presence of men in the social body who persistently violate the common social decencies should condemn the social standards.

Ponderous, mass action and ceremonials have a strong appeal to the adolescent boy. In this day when we are faced with the question as to whether there is anything for which he will exhibit a degree of reverence, the transition is found to be easy from the courtesy of the military life to that of the social relations for the boys who have been

trained through the concerted action of massed ceremonies and in an atmosphere of mutual respect.

The use of military training in the high school should help to inculcate a proper attitude toward the qualities of obedience and courtesy. A certain amount of obedience is required of classes as to the manner in which they should enter class rooms and their conduct while there. Military formations make similar requirements definitely do not depend on each individual teacher or principal for their standards. They require a punctuality that must be absolute. Reasons for delinquencies are acceptable; excuses are not. A military drill is so conducted that absolute concentration is required and the nature of the work demands that nothing short of it can be accepted. This must not be continued beyond the point where such demands are reasonable or where they can be responded to with profit to the student. When carried on in a proper manner the student is developing concentration, obedience, selfcontrol, and coöperation. This does not involve the question of the transfer of improved efficiency but simply a training in habits of thought. The very act of throwing back his shoulders, raising his chest, looking his "superiors" in the eye and stepping along with a brisk, "snappy" manner is going to do much in giving self-confidence, in dispelling that inferiority complex we hear so much about and in giving him an added self-respect.

It is in the rôle of leader that the greatest opportunity for developing the different phases of dependableness will be found. In a regularly organized platoon, 23 per cent of its personnel will be in positions of more or less responsibility. The development of leaders is one of the greatest works of military training in high schools. The excellence of the performance in drill may well be subordinated to the development of leaders through allowing the boys to conduct it. It is difficult to imagine anything that could do more to bring to the surface inherent initiative in a boy than conducting a military formation and drill. The part of the in

structor may well be that of a critic teacher. He should discover problems for the cadet instructor and his assistants to solve; discover where errors occur and leave them to determine how to proceed in getting them corrected. The leader must know that the performance of his group in comparison with others will be taken as a proof of the quality of his work. He soon finds that he must have the coöperation of every boy in the group and that they must all work toward the same end. Then he is getting a start toward real leadership and they are all learning the first requisite of good citizenship-the necessity of controlling their own feelings and of obeying the orders of another who is trying to lead them to a desired goal although they may think at the moment that some other course would be more desirable in reaching that end. It might be difficult to make it clear to a boy that he was making it impossible for a class in history to do its best work because he was making no effort to prepare his lessons, but he does not need to have it pointed out to him that his squad can be no better than he is.

Every movement of the individual and of the squad; every position of the rifle in the manual of arms is prescribed to the minutest detail. These positions and movements must become habitual; every movement must be initiated without hesitation and executed with a "snap." This can be done only by muscular and nervous systems which are well coördinated. The same things may be said of the well-conducted physical drill and rifle exercise. Adapting these to being performed with music will help to keep up

interest.

Military organizations and military work lend themselves readily to the use of competitions. These arouse outside interest and provide an impetus to loyalty within the group. A public demonstration can sometimes be successfully staged that includes individual competitions and competitive exhibitions by picked squads, platoons, or larger units. This should consist of drill, close and extended order; ceremonies, calisthenics, rifle exercises, wall scaling, first aid, marksmanship, tent pitching, etc., the variety of

activities being limited only by the amount of equipment, time devoted to instruction, and the time and place of the exhibition. This provides a goal that is most stimulating.

A camping trip of from thirty-six hours to ten days will serve to give the organization solidarity. This will serve the purpose better if the boys finance it themselves. The successful military director will take advantage of every avenue to develop that powerful but elusive esprit de corps.

When a boy leads a life of regularity, of punctuality, of self-control-a life whose every act requires a fidelity to his "outfit" and each official speech in which must be in terse, accurate English, he imbibes a measure of those qualities that will not only assist him in fitting himself to any niche into which life may toss him but will develop a degree of initiative and perseverance that will make it possible for him to cut out his own niche.

T

HE movies have been a subject of discussion for many, each theorist, analyzing their defects from his own particular viewpoint and interests and suggesting remedies sometimes good, sometimes bad, but always incomplete. In this general discussion the educator has contributed his share. More and more, he is coming to think with Professor Judd that "the reason why the American people have so long put up with the weak and often utterly stupid movies is that they have no training in the intelligent appreciation of movies." The problem has been definitely recognized as one whose solution requires a large contribution from the school. However, this recognition has not been stated distinctly and emphatically enough; it has been submerged beneath other interests; it has materialized only in ineffective censorship agitation and in Saturday morning matinee movements which are praiseworthy but inadequate.

I do not think it necessary to question whether the movies can or cannot be classified according to some dogmatic definition as

"art" or whether it is the highest or the lowest of these "arts.” The significant point is that, allied with music, it is becoming, if it has not already become, the dominant

appreciative recreation of our people. There is no more reason for us to suppress this interest than there is a possibility that we could. The school must face the issue squarely and it can do this only by admitting the photoplay to full standing in the curriculum. By this I mean not as Professor Judd to "provide a time in school for the discussion of movies," but to provide a definite and organized course of study in photoplay appreciation.

To teach appreciation is a very venturesome enterprise. Methodologists can guide us with hardly more than the dictum "appreciation is caught not taught.” The teaching of appreciation is handicapped in three ways: (1) The teaching is difficult. (2) A higher type of appreciation, which is analytic and requires a wealth of associations presupposes a good deal of intelligence. (3) The inculcation of appreciation involves the formation of a new set of habits, and often the displacement of an old set. Despite these difficulties, we have generally included in our curriculum a course of study in literature. We don't know what positive effects this has had; we do know that the majority of our children, even perhaps at the highschool level today, have benefited in no

degree from it. Nevertheless, no one has arisen to call for the ejection of the literature syllabus from the curriculum. And this is no more than right, for we are concerned with an activity for which every man and woman must be equipped in present-day life.

Our aims in the teaching of literature may be represented by those given in the New York City syllabus which are in effect: (1) to cultivate the child's taste for worthwhile literature and give him pleasure of a finer kind; (2) to introduce him to the wonders and beauties of nature; (3) to foster his imagination and sympathies and quicken and direct his emotions; (4) to help him understand people and to inculcate ideals of character and conduct; and (5) to help form the reading habit.

It is evident that if we wished to institute a course in photoplay appreciation these aims could be assumed almost in toto. We would have to change "literature" in the first aim to "photoplays." The last aim is not readily applicable but when we consider that Evangeline probably never helped form the reading habit for anything else than literature, we may substitute for the fifth aim the analogous one "to help form the worth-while movie habit.'

The few educators who have suggested plans similar to mine, have stopped at this point if they have reached so far. Their few hidden statements have received, as far as I know, no criticism. However, I expect that, if the claim of the photoplay to a place in the curriculum comes to be widely known, our answer will be that the curriculum is too crowded at present, that many useful subjects are clamoring for admittance, etc. In expectation of this criticism, I am prompted to present my thesis that for the common people a course in photoplay appreciation is more needed than a course in literature. If one of the courses must be crowded out or receive a minimized emphasis, at least in the elementary school, it should be that in litera

ture.

I am led to this conclusion not through a belief in the superiority of the "art" of the photoplay but through the plain and clear

fact that the movie is a more important factor in the life of the ordinary person than literature. And even college graduates need to be educated a little in the photoplay. I am thinking of one man who would ordinarily go to see a movie, selected indiscriminately or discriminately in the wrong direction, and then proceed to burn the midnight oil at his vector analysis and history of mathematics. He is only an example. I am led to suspect, also, that we may meet with a little more success in teaching movie appreciation than we have been getting in literature. First, literature appreciation is fundamentally dependent on reading ability. Our school graduates may be able to read well enough but to sit down and read four hundred pages of material presupposes a habit which is not so easily acquired. Any student, I think, who has been reading much on education, etc., and neglecting his poetry will testify that it often requires more effort than he is willing to devote to concentrate on a page of poetry. How true is this for the ordinary man whose basic reading habits are not sufficiently developed? The photoplay is not so handicapped but has the advantage of peculiar attraction and of social participation. Secondly, a course in appreciation requires an extensive follow-up outside of the classroom if a permanent effect is to be produced. I have no basis for belief, but I feel that perhaps an intelligent boy who is in the habit of reading Alger will benefit more from a good literature teacher than a boy who does not read at all. I personally attribute my understanding of the movies to the many bad ones I have seen as well as to the good ones. Now, the photoplay course will not lack in outside follow-up as the literature course does. An intelligent child accepts the insight he acquires from his literature teacher with great pleasure but soon loses it, if he doesn't read after school. The same child will apply this insight when derived from his photoplay teacher with still greater pleasure because he does go to the movies. He will, moreover, learn from contrast because he does go to the movies after school.