is to test our efficiency and to sit in judgment in all interdepartmental matters.

Here first of all belongs the business of registration with all that concerns it, and we must realize that the authority of the registrar's office is to be respected. The individual faculty member may propose a program of recitations, but the administrative branch must reserve the right to adjust this program in the interests of the university at large. When the registrar's position is accorded that autonomy and respect which it should have, we shall see a marked improvement in our university life. Expert service in this connection will lead to a scientific arrangement of our classes, an arrangement that will utilize most advantageously the time of the students and the teachers. As a part of the administrative force of the institution this office should become a wholesome check upon the faculty. The professors who fail whole classes and those who mark all of their students 95 per cent should hear from this office directly or indirectly. In a word, the registrar should be the statistician of the university. He should not only record credits, but should be able to synthesize the facts that come before him. His office should be the source of a large amount of legislation enacted by the faculty at his suggestion.

Whenever the faculty encroaches upon the province of the registrar confusion is liable to arise. Members of the faculty cannot be induced to inform themselves thoroly concerning the details of registration; hence much time is lost and many mistakes are made. We readily concede that the librarian must have a trained corps of attendants, but we too often fail to realize that the registering of students is quite as important as the registering of books.

The official advising of students should not be assumed by the faculty. President Eliot clearly hinted at this evil when he declared that it is the business of the adviser to interpret the rules of the university as printed in the catalog. Even this is a compromise. The faculty member should not advise the student in an official capacity at all. He is an interested party. In these days of counting noses he is interested in the size of his classes and the classes of his friends on the faculty. Departmental advisers are subject to the same criticism. In the old days, when a department was represented by one man, the system was less objectionable. Today, when large departments contain a dozen professors, personal official advice enables the adviser to discredit the work of his colleagues. The department has a right to lay down departmental requirements, but the administrative force should enforce these requirements.

In the days of small faculties, student affairs and delinquency could be regulated at the faculty board. Later this function passed to a committee of the faculty. Today it is clear that this work has become purely administrative and calls for experts. In the hands of such experts the work can be done better than a general faculty can possibly do it, for the general

faculty has no special training in tracing the manifold causes of delinquency, nor will it take the time to gather the necessary information. Few of its members could discern physical and mental peculiarities which the specialist recognizes at once if he is efficient. Simply because faculties have been so slow to delegate this part of their authority, universities have lagged behind public-school systems in the rational treatment of the individual student and in the introduction of hygienic measures.

Faculty committees have, on the whole, been inefficient in their work because they have been appointed by the faculty. When these committees fail to do their work efficiently they cannot be removed without seriously disturbing the equilibrium of the faculty. The administrative branch, forever under the check of faculty opinion, can act when the evidence has been presented to it. In spite of some good arguments presented in favor of faculty election by Dean West in a paper before the Association of American Universities at San Francisco on March 17, 1906, I am inclined to agree with President Eliot, who favors administrative appointment. Dean West assumes that faculty election of committees promotes the responsibility and dignity of the faculty. But he does not seem to recognize that in large faculties a small group of men generally assumes control of committee appointments by methods not unlike those of the ward politician. Even if faculty appointment is conceded for committees exercising legislative or instructional functions, it is clear that all administrative committees should issue from the chief executive who is responsible to the board and the public for their efficiency.

By a prudent surrendering of administrative functions, we are in better condition to maintain our authority on the legislative side, but in the nature of the case we must also be prepared for limitations here. Every faculty is the creature of a corporation or a state exercising its authority thru a board. The corporation or board may, upon its responsibility, lay down general rules which must be accepted during its tenure. For example, a state university faculty insists upon certain entrance requirements. The high schools commissioned under the state laws have another standard of graduation. Under these conditions the board of control must naturally supersede the faculty if it is necessary to do so in order to make the university articulate with the state school system.

In the formation of their own courses of study college faculties have been unwise. They will be forced to improve on their present methods or suffer an administrative check in this direction. In the words of David Starr Jordan, "A faculty is a body of men each of whom believes that a maximum of his own subject is vital to the welfare of the student." If our faculties had had absolute control of the courses of study, our universities would still be colleges of the liberal arts. All of the newer activities would have been crushed at the outset. In order to leave the formulating of courses in the hands of the faculty, the boards have resorted to the expedi

ent of creating special faculties who are willing to formulate special courses. These again must remain under administrative control in order to safeguard the integrity of the whole institution.

In spite of all these limitations which seem to have some claims of plausibility, the authority of the faculty may be by no means negligible. It maintains authority in matters of instruction and research. If it acts wisely, it will keep the authority to legislate in all matters touching these two fields. It is a fallacy to suppose that the professor's status must necessarily suffer because he relinquishes general administrative functions. It is true that the general faculty affords him a smaller sphere of activity than formerly. But he should find ample opportunity to exercise his initiative in the departmental councils, for the members of a department should have quite as much to discuss as any general faculty of the last generation. Under such conditions the head of the department becomes its real instead of its official leader.

It seems quite clear, then, that with the growth of our institutions a large number of purely administrative functions become divorced from the faculty. This is necessary if the student is not to be made the victim of teachers engrossed in departmental instruction and research. In the past, especially in small institutions, this administrative side has been centered in one man, making his position extremely precarious-unnecessarily so. The number of careful and high-minded executives sacrificed to this situation is a blot on our higher education. One is almost tempted to say, "Let us cease talking about academic freedom for a while and give some attention to the question of administrative rights." Not infrequently the college administrator has been forced to resign just at the time when he has succeeded in gauging the efficiency of his faculty. The new president spends a number of years informing himself, but when he becomes efficient, the tangle of administrative responsibility again removes him. The trustees are not an adequate protection for him, for the personnel of the board is continually changing and the members of the board are accessible to the faculty members who have personal influence. The only adequate protection for the president lies in developing an administrative body in the university, each member of which has a definite field and definite responsibility. Such a body need not be chosen primarily for its ability in research. It should be a real university senate chosen by the president and regents on the basis of fitness. The appointment of deans has too frequently been based upon the desire to increase the salary of a worthy teacher or investigator who has no taste and no talent for administrative detail. In this connection it may be well to recall the statement made by Dean West in the address to which I have already referred.

He asks:

How many members of general faculties and senates are at all in touch with our literature on college administration and instruction?

Is it necessary that they should all become vitally interested in this literature or will it suffice to specialize our efforts and build up efficient administrative departments?

In the division of functions there is a certain danger, if the proper checks are not maintained. The faculty that restricts itself to legislation must have some assurance that its legislation is carried out. To this end it should maintain committees. I have already suggested that the faculty should not be officially concerned with the student during registration. I do insist that it is legitimate for the faculty to maintain a committee which will check all registration blanks. Professors should not deal personally with the student at all, but they should satisfy themselves that the administrative branch has done its work correctly.

A clearer differentiation of functions will lead not only to greater efficiency, but to greater freedom as well. For freedom has the peculiarity of applying to all persons concerned: to the student, who wants to know his duties and his privileges, to the public which has its rights, to the state which has its claims, to the teaching force, low and high, even to the president who must have the freedom to dismiss an inefficient professor without fearing that he will be forced to resign on trumped-up charges that have no connection with the matter in hand.

THE VOCATIONAL MOTIVE IN COLLEGE

HUBER W. HURT, PRESIDENT OF LOMBARD COLLEGE, GALESBURG, ILL. Shall college be considered an end in itself or a means toward some definite, deliberately chosen end? The traditional point of view and curriculum assumed that four years of general college training were, if not essential, at least most desirable. The assumptions of our vine-clad past have of necessity been challenged by the spirit of an age of efficiency.

Even religion today is nothing if unrelated to life and conduct. It is a working attitude toward life. It has focused its attention increasingly less on a remote hazy future and more on service and life in a great, throbbing, needy, immediate present. Practical, useful religion!

In education the demands of effective life are no less imperative. Education must be related to life in a concrete way. The growth of laboratory science has been an aspect of this demand. The drawing, manual training, domestic science, and vocational interests represent a newer phase of this old need of real preparation for life.

Our old "one-course" high-school curriculum permitted no differentiation in the high school, and the old college curriculum, with its excess of ancient humanities, permitted none; hence the young man who sought to enter something besides the ministry or perhaps the law found himself more or less astern at college graduation. Today the differentiation should

come at an increasingly earlier period to meet the demands of effectiveness essential to successful competition.

All our better high schools are doing more and more of differentiated work so as to eliminate human waste, and this demand has been only partially heard by the college. The university has been a distinctively vocational school but the conservative small college has persistently allowed its students to browse contentedly on the foliage of general culture and has not confronted them systematically with the problems of life. The awakening often did not come until July after commencement, when they have had to start out and face a needy world with some service which they should have been prepared to render.

The "Lombard Idea," which it has been my privilege and responsibility to organize, is a definite program to combat the following type of experience. Some months ago I was invited into the state of Iowa to an excellent old college to speak about the trade schools in Germany, which I have just investigated under the auspices of the Carnegie Foundation. At the close of the address a half-dozen young men crowded down to the front of the auditorium and asked for an interview. We talked until after 2 A.M. about their problems. Do you realize that those half-dozen Seniors with at least eight years of grade-school training, with at least four years of high-school training, with at least four years of college life, had no more idea what service they were to render society than they had the day they entered? They said: "No one has ever talked to us about it," and I spent half the night helping those promising young men of twenty-odd years plan their tomorrow intelligently and deliberately. Sixteen years of training under the flag of the philosophy of "I don't know where I'm going but I'm on my way!" How much richer might those years have been had there been the dynamic power of a clear-visioned purpose directing them.

The "Lombard Idea" meets this condition in two ways: first, by relating the work in every department to what that line is doing outside the four walls of the classroom. My professor of chemistry, Dr. Cooper, is city chemist of Galesburg, my professor of bacteriology, Dr. Winter, cooperates with the city health department in the detection and prevention of epidemics, etc.

Into every department has this organizing influence gone. Few hours of intensive work, not extensive, are expected of the professors in their teaching with the further expectation that theory shall, in every conceivable way, be related to actuality. That's the idea! It meant an entirely new faculty but it is done. College work related to life. Secondly, vocational guidance with the entering student that his college work may prepare him to render broad effective service in some definite field. The results have been astonishing. Related, correlated courses have had to be organized to meet these needs. Enrollment, faculty, expenses, equipment, and buildings have doubled inside of twelve months, and we