faculty. A lecturer to graduates must necessarily appear, in the eyes
of the undergraduate, superior to the man who hears recitations and
prepares term-reports. Besides, young men who have passed four years
at one college need "a change of air:" they will develop more rapidly
if brought into contact with new ideas and new instructors. Every
institution has an atmosphere of its own, which ceases after a time to
act upon the student as a stimulant.

There is one additional point that should not be overlooked. A careful
discrimination between the functions of the professor and those of the
teacher would benefit both classes of men. Such has been the effect in
Germany. The gymnasium-teacher has a high sense of the dignity of
his vocation and a keen sense of its responsibilities, because he
perceives that he must bring his labors to a well-rounded conclusion.
He knows that the university does not supplement the gymnasium--that
the university professors do not undertake to make good his
shortcomings. The gymnasial course is a completed phase of training.
It aims at giving the pupil all the general knowledge that he requires
previous to his professional studies. What is lost or overlooked in
the gymnasium cannot be acquired at the university. Hence the peculiar
conscientiousness of the German teacher, his almost painful anxiety to
make sure that his pupils master every subject, his unwillingness to
let them go before they are "ripe." With us the change from school
to college is not an abrupt transition, like that from gymnasium to
university. The college course, certainly during the two lower years
at least, is a continuation of the school course: the same or
similar subjects are taught, and taught in the same way. Hence the
school-teacher is tempted to regulate his efforts according to the
college standard of admission. If he can only "get his men into
college," as the saying is, he thinks that he is doing enough. To say