herself an instructor in the Department of English Literature, writes:

I think Miss Montague would wish that another of her pupils,
one who worked with her for an unusually long time, should
say--what can most simply and most warmly and most gratefully
be said--that she was a good teacher. So l want to say it
formally for myself and for all the others and for all the
years. For I suppose that if we were doomed to go before
our girls for a last judgment, the best and the least of us
would care just for the simple bit of testimony that we knew
our business and attended to it. And of all the good people
who made college days so rich for me, there is none of whom
I could say this more entirely than of Miss Montague.

Often as I have caught sight of her in the jostling crowd of
the second floor, I have felt a lively regret that she was
known to so few of the girls, and that her excellent ability
to give zest to drill and to stablish fluttering wits in order,
could not have a fuller and freer exercise. In the old days
we valued what she had to give, and in the usual silent,
thankless way, elected her courses as long as there were
courses to elect; but we have had to teach many years since
to know how special that gift of hers was. Just as closer
acquaintance with herself proved her breadth of mind and
sympathy not quite understood before, so more intelligent
knowledge of her methods showed them to be broader and more
fundamental than we had quite comprehended. With her handling,
rules and sub-rules ceased to jostle and confuse one another,
but grouped themselves in a simpler harmony which we thought
a very beautiful discovery, and grammar took on a reasonable