y where we have enough money to let our
architects do their utmost, we find streets where France, England, Italy,
Spain, Holland, Arabia and India all stand elbow to elbow, and the
European visitor knows not whether to laugh or to make a hasty visit to
his nerve-specialist. It seems all right to us, and it _is_ all right from
the standpoint of a nation that is yet in the throes of eclecticism. And
our other art--painting, sculpture, music--it is all similarly mixed. Good
of its kind, often; but we have not yet settled down to the kind that we
like best--the kind in which we are best fitted to do something that will
live through the ages.
We used to think for instance that in music the ordinary diatonic major
scale, with its variant minor, was a fact of nature. We knew vaguely that
the ancient Greeks had other scales, and we knew also that the Chinese and
the Arabs had scales so different that their music was generally
displeasing to us. But we explained this by saying that our scale was
natural and right and that the others were antiquated, barbaric and wrong.
Now we are opening our arms to the exotic scales and devising a few of our
own. We have the tonal and the semi-tonal scales and we are trying to make
use of the Chinese, Arabic and Hindu modes. We are producing results that
sound very odd to ears that are attuned to the old-fashioned music, but
our eclecticism here as elsewhere is cracking the shell of prejudice and
will doubtless lead to some good end, though perhaps we can not see it
yet.
How about education? In the first place there are, as I read the history
of education, two main methods of training youth--the individual method
and the class method. No two boys or girls are alike; no two have like
reactions to the same stimulus. Each ought to have a separate teacher, for
the methods to be employed must be adapted especially to the material on
which we have to work. This means a separate tutor for every child.
On the other hand, the training that we give must be social--must prepare
for life with and among one's fellow beings, otherwise it is worthless.
This means training in class, with and among other students, where each
mind responds not to the teacher's alone but to those of its fellow
pupils.
Here are two irreconcilable requirements. In our modern systems of
education we are trying to respond to them as best we may, teaching in
class and at the same time giving each pupil as much personal attentio
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