that is a detail in the struggle and not a question of general
objective. And to satisfy those real practical needs, what is wanted is
in the first place an organizer, a reasonable sum of money, say ten
thousand pounds for ten years, and access for experimental purposes to
a variety of schools. This organizer would set himself to secure the
whole time and energy and interest of a dozen or so of good men; they
would include several expert teachers, a clear-headed pedagogic expert
or so, a keen psychologist perhaps with a penetrating mind--for
example, one might try and kidnap Professor William James in his next
Sabbatical year--one or two industrious young students, a literary
critic perhaps, a philologist, a grammarian, and set them all,
according to their several gifts and faculties, towards this end. At
the end of the first year this organizer would print and publish for
the derision of the world in general and the bitter attacks of the men
he had omitted from the enterprise in particular, for review in the
newspapers and for trial in enterprising schools, a "course" in the
English language and composition. His team of collaborators, revised
perhaps, probably weeded by a quarrel or so and supplemented by the
ablest of the hostile critics, would then, working with all their time
and energy, revise the course for the second year. And you would repeat
the process for ten years. In the end at the cost of L100,000--really a
quite trivial sum for the object in view--there would exist the scheme,
the method, the primers and text-books, the School Dictionary, the
examination syllabus, and all that is now needed for the proper
teaching of English. You would have, moreover, in the copyrights of the
course an asset that might go far to recoup those who financed the
enterprise.

It is precisely this difficulty about text-books and a general scheme
that is the real obstacle to any material improvement in our