gives signs of
a habit of orderly and well-governed cerebration.

Here, whatever else may be lacking, is discipline. The sheer difficulty of
Latin and Greek, the highly organized structure of these languages, the
need of scrupulous search to find the nearest equivalents for words that
differ widely in their scope of meaning from their derivatives in any
modern vocabulary, the effort of lifting one's self out of the familiar
rut of ideas into so foreign a world, all these things act as a tonic
exercise to the brain. And it is a demonstrable fact that students of the
classics do actually surpass their unclassical rivals in any field where a
fair test can be made. At Princeton, for instance, Professor West has
shown this superiority by tables of achievements and grades, which he
published in the _Educational Review_ for March, 1913; and a number of
letters from various parts of the country, printed in the _Nation_, tell
the same story in striking fashion. Thus, a letter from Wesleyan
(September 7, 1911) gives statistics to prove that the classical students
in that university outstrip the others in obtaining all sorts of honors,
commonly even honors in the sciences. Another letter (May 8, 1913) shows
that in the first semester in English at the University of Nebraska the
percentage of delinquents among those who entered with four years of Latin
was below 7; among those who had three years of Latin and one or two of a
modern language the percentage rose to 15; two years of Latin and two
years of a modern language, 30 per cent.; one year or less of Latin and
from two to four years of a modern language, 35 per cent. And in the
_Nation_ of April 23, 1914, Prof. Arthur Gordon Webster, the eminent
physicist of Clark University, after speaking of the late B.O. Peirce's
early drill and life-long interest in Greek and Latin, adds these
significant words: "Many of us still believe that such a training makes
the best possible foundation for a scientist." There is reason to think
that this opinion is daily gaining ground among those who are zealous that
the prestige of science should be maintained by men of the best calibre.

The disagreement in this matter would no doubt be less, were it not for an
ambiguity in the meaning of the word "efficient" itself. There is a kind
of efficiency in managing men, and there also is an intellectual
efficiency, properly speaking, which is quite a different faculty. The
former is more likely to be fou