is not a need of childhood, and the affirmation that the child feels the sequence of the gifts is open to gravest question."

The question of method is involved as well as subject matter. With the conservatives, the material is primarily an end in itself; with the progressives it is a means to an end. The materials are used for the expression of thought resulting in simple picture making or story telling with blocks, sticks, scissors, paper, or crayons. The conservatives use this " Alphabet of Form" very much as the old school might the alphabet of letters when the child was taught his A, B, C's, as preliminary to learning to spell or read. The progressives use the gifts and occupations after the fashion of the present method of teaching reading. They believe in the sentence method, or unitary experience, teaching the wholes first, then the relation of parts. The child makes something which, to him, represents an object selected out of his enviroment, or suggested to his mind through song or story, then follows the analysis in the "how" and "why," which incidentally reveals the structure to be made up of lines (curved or straight), blocks (oblong or cubical), surfaces (triangular or square), etc. With five year old children they believe in placing the "emphasis on the function rather than on the structure or form of things." The new school introduced the use of the larger materials, and places little emphasis upon the finer work which taxes the nerves of the child.

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It is evident Dr. Jenny B. Merrill, Supervisor of Kindergartens of New York City, does not regard this alphabet of form either as sacred or inviolate, for she says in a recently published Kindergarten Creed," "I believe that the best materials for play in the kindergarten are indicated by Froebel," and "that the most important of these are balls, building blocks, sand, clay, paper, crayon or brush, and scissors." She also says, "I believe that constructive play with these or other plastic materials should follow naturally a few simple industries, and that such play should develop gradually into work." This latter statement especially voices the sentiment of the progressives concerning the development of work out of play. The conservatives regard even the mere mention of work to the

child "as premature to this stage of development." And yet, judging from the exhibitions of children's work done in the kindergartens of these two extreme schools, one sees manifested in the progressive schools a more natural expression of the play spirit of the child in the crude objects made by him expressive of his immediate environment and childish interests, rather than in the more formal" schools" of folding, weaving, sewing, or drawing, as is shown by children taught by the conservative kindergartners.

A few words in conclusion. What is to determine which of these two extreme views is right? It would seem that the child himself ought to be the unit of measure. President Butler, of Columbia University, says: "That which is intrinsically best in any particular stage of development is the best preparation for that which is to follow," and Froebel says that "the child (boy or man) should know no other endeavor but to be at every stage of development wholly what this age calls for." Which of the two schools more nearly interpret Froebel's ideals expressed in the Education of Man, where he says with prophetic vision: "The destiny of all things is to unfold the divine essence, and thus manifest God. The destiny of man as a rational being is to become conscious of the divine essence and to reveal it in his life with self-determination and freedom. To recognize the workings of this universal divine principle in nature and humanity is Science. To discern its bearings upon the development of rational beings is the Science of Education. To apply it practically to all kinds of individuals in all stages of development is the Art of Education. To lead the pupil to its conscious revelation is the goal of Education."

The kindergarten as an institution is still very young, having scarcely passed out of its infancy. It may be that these warrings within are nothing more than growing pains, and may prove to be but the dawn of those symptoms attendant upon adolescence. The criticism and contention is doubtless the crucial test through which all new movements must pass. We see good in it; already kindergartners everywhere are seriously and thoughtfully casting about for good reasons for the faith that is within them. The school, too, is having its turn at

persecution for the "fads and frills" introduced alongside of the three R's, for which the kindergarten is more or less responsible. It behooves all concerned to take heed to the injunction of the apostle Paul, "Prove all things; hold fast to that which is good," at the same time to keep in mind the fact that all life is in flux, and that premature crystallization of thought into system is menacing to the life of the spirit.

After all is said and proved, it may be discovered that conservatives and progressives are but looking at opposite sides of the same truths. No revelation of truth, however great, is final. Not until kindergartners delve deep enough to establish themselves upon principles-not merely Froebelian, but principles that have been proved to be in harmony with all growth and development-will these differences of method and procedure be seen in their proper proportion and relation to the whole problem, not of the kindergarten only, but of all Education.

Languages

(As Applied In the Schools of France)

WILLIAM B. ASPINWALL, NEW YORK STATE NORMAL COLLEGE, ALBANY, N. Y.

T

HE reform of the methods of teaching modern languages in the lycées (secondary schools) of France, has taken definite shape in the adoption of the socalled "méthode directe." The purely indirect method, which regards a foreign language as a distinctly foreign world to be studied, approaches it and treats it objectively, we may say superficially, entering from without into but a limited possession of it, and its success is more or less uncertain. Directly opposed to this method is the purely direct method which proceeds as far as possible subjectively, starting from the center rather than from the boundary of the domain of the new language; it creates at once its own environment and horizon, which it enlarges constantly, so that from the first, and with increasing ability, it gains an effective possession of it.

If the study of modern languages had for its special object merely a certain culture of the mind, they would evidently be better adapted to the first or indirect method, the method of translation, which constantly compares the foreign language with the mother tongue. But in the words of the French minister of public instruction: "The modern languages should not be taught as dead languages. We are not to make of them an instrument of literary culture or of intellectual gymnastics. We are rather to employ the method which will give the pupil the most rapidly and the most surely an effective possession of these languages." This method is the direct method; and making use of the same natural methods by which the pupils learn the mother tongue, it gives little attention in the beginning to syntax, and still less to philology. It consists rather of oral exercises, of conversation, recitation, reading, explanation of authors, exercises of criticism, all of which aim to put at the pupil's disposition a broad vocabulary, to accustom him to the pronunciation, and to enable him rapidly to construct sentences.

Instead of studying the foreign language by constant comparison with the mother tongue, it tends to suppress as much as possible this medium and to put the pupils directly in the presence of the sounds, words and sentences of the foreign language. The method of translation has long been the fundamental exercise in the study of modern languages, not because the teachers have blindly followed the methods of teaching the dead languages, but because the translation is the most rapid means of acquiring what we may describe as an intellectual rather than a practical knowledge of them, and because the time, an element indispensable to the acquisition of the latter, has been limited. But the method of translation by appealing to the intelligence, and forcing a use of the reason and of the reflection, fails utterly to accomplish that development without which a real and effective possession of a language is impossible; namely, the developing of the spirit of imitation or an instinct of the language. In other words the translation must cease to be an end in itself; while its use is not entirely to be suppressed, the pupil is led to understand the text directly by the conversation, and by questions the teacher learns directly if the pupil has understood.

But to make possible this substitution of conversation or of dialogue for the translation of the old method, it is necessary that the pupil should possess a certain speaking knowledge of the language. It is evident, therefore, that from the beginning the foreign language must be presented to the pupil in the form of spoken language. Following the direct method it should be taught with attention first of all to the pronunciation, the medium of the teaching being, not the book, but the ear. The pupil will reproduce, not groups of letters, which he sees in a printed form in his book and which he will inevitably try to pronounce after the manner of the letters in his mother tongue, but words and sentences pronounced by the teacher, and which at first, at least, he will not be able to see in printed or written form. In thus training him to speak, the teacher will aim to develop in him the ability to grasp accurately the sounds pronounced, and to reproduce them himself correctly and without effort; and the habits of comprehending the sense of the words and sentences