Category: Columbia

The economist Richard T. Ely was 25 years of age with a freshly earned Heidelberg doctorate when he wrote the following article on American colleges and German universities in late 1879 or early 1880 while still in Germany. According to his autobiography, he was down to his last three pfennige when the check came in the mail from Harper’s New Monthly Magazine. I have highlighted a few passages in the article for those in hurry.

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“This article served to get me out of a very tight spot. One day I had left in my pocket, if I recall correctly, the total sum of three pfennigs, about three-quarters of a cent. What was I to do? At the University of Halle, another fellow-student and American was Marcus Hitch, who afterwards became a lawyer in Chicago. I put on my hat and made my way to my friend’s home about a mile away. When I got there, I said, “Marcus, I am dead broke, I have come to you for a loan.” He replied, “I was just putting on my hat to come to you.” He, too, had reached the end of his resources. I then returned to my room, trying to think of what to do next. What friend did I have in Berlin who could help me out in the present emergency? When I arrived at my room, I found a letter from Harper and Brothers, London, with twelve pounds sterling in it, in payment for my article “American Colleges and German Universities.” I was delighted with this amount. Twelve pounds sterling was equal to two hundred and fifty marks, which was about fifty dollars in New York at that time. My spirits rose and I made my way to my friend Hitch to tell him the good news. When I did, he replied that he had just received a remittance from home and was about to visit me to tell me of it and also to help out.”

Source: Richard T. Ely, Ground Under Our Feet, An Autobiography. New York: Macmillan, 1938, pp. 52-3

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AMERICAN COLLEGES AND GERMAN UNIVERSITIES.

by Richard T. Ely

Harper’s New Monthly Magazine, Vol. LXI, No. 362 (July, 1880), pp. 253-260. Copy at Hathitrust.org.

MANY excellent articles and addresses on college and university education in the United States and Germany have been written during the last ten years, but the authors have usually taken it for granted not only that all have clear ideas as to the character and purposes of these institutions, but also that perfect harmony exists between these ideas. The discussion has, therefore, turned upon the means of realizing a character and accomplishing ends not plainly defined. Had, however, each educational reformer first obtained a clear conception of the actual “final cause” of American and foreign universities and colleges, and then compared that conception with the desired “final cause,” it is safe to assert that the present notions in respect to both would be far less confused.

The comparison universally made is between our colleges and the German universities. It is shown that the condition of higher education in the United States is in a sad state—and about this there can be no doubt; that in Germany, on the contrary, it is in a flourishing one; ergo, let us turn our colleges into German universities. The next question is, How? In answer to this it is explained that in the German universities the studies are all elective and optional; in the colleges of the United States, compulsory. The conclusion is not difficult to be drawn. Make all studies in the colleges elective, and the work is done! The country is provided with a set of first-class universities! The German universities have thus been taken as models, and a sort of blind attempt made to imitate them in the way described. German universities are an acknowledged success, it is true; but what does it mean to pronounce an institution a success? It signifies that a harmony exists between the intentions of its founders and managers and the accomplished results. The questions then naturally arise, What is the purpose of the German university? What is its real distinguishing feature? Then, after having answered these, the further questions, Do American colleges have the same aims? If they do not, is it desirable that they should?

The answer to the first questions is not difficult. A German university is, from beginning to end, through and through, a professional school. It is a place where young men prepare to earn their “bread and butter,” as the Germans say, in practical life. It is not a school which pretends or strives to develop in a general way the intellectual powers, and give its students universal culture. This is the first point which should be clearly understood by all trying to Germanize our institutions. As soon as the student enters the university he makes a selection of some one study or set of studies—law, medicine, theology, or some of the studies included in the “philosophical faculty”— chemistry, physics, Latin, Greek, philosophy, literature, modern languages, etc. If a student pursues chemistry, it is because his chemistry is to support him in afterlife; if Latin and Greek, because he is preparing himself for a position as teacher; so it is with the other branches. The first question a university student asks before selecting a study is, “Of what practical benefit will this be to me ?” An opportunity is given to extraordinary talent and genius of developing, however, by allowing a certain freedom in “learning and teaching.” There is no regulation to prevent a student of law from hearing a lecture, e. g., on the Agamemnon of AEschylus; but this rarely happens. Each one has the examination in mind which is to admit him into active life, and, as a rule, pursues only the studies required for passing it, and what is more, pursues them no farther than is likely to be demanded. If a smattering of the history of philosophy is required, as in the theological examination in Prussia, the candidate will read the little work by Schwegler, but stop there. There are exceptions: some study for the love of study, for the love of science, of truth; but they are few. The professors who teach sciences not required for some examination complain that comparatively few students attend their lectures. Professor Wundt, the distinguished psychologist and philosopher of Leipzig, explains in this way the little attention paid to philosophy by German students. In the philosophical magazine Mind, for November, 1877, he compares the German and English universities. “The German student does not,” says he, “like his English compeer, reside at the university simply with the object of general scientific culture, but, first and foremost, he pursues a ‘Brodstudium.’ He has chosen a profession which is to procure him a future living as doctor, practicing lawyer, clergyman, master in one of the higher schools, or the like, and for which he must establish his fitness in an examination at the close of his university career. But how enormously have the subjects of instruction increased in the majority of these professions! …….It requires either compulsion or a specially lively interest to bring our doctors, lawyers, philologists, to the philosophical lectures. But of late compulsion has for the most part ceased.” Professor Wagner, the political economist, of Berlin, has not long since expressed himself quite similarly. He says only a small number of the law students hear his lectures on political economy, or any other lectures which are not absolutely required for examination. In the University of Berlin there are over three thousand matriculated students, and nearly two thousand non-matriculated attendants at lectures; but so celebrated a man as Zeller has only a small number of hearers at his lectures on psychology, because it is a subject required for but few examinations. At Halle in the winter semester 1877-78 only one course of lectures on psychology was announced, that, however, by a clever young man, an author of some philosophical works. Although there are nine hundred students at Halle, the lectures were not delivered, because two could not be found who desired to hear them. The only one who presented himself was the writer, a foreigner, and when he was trying to find number two, and proposed to others to hear the lecture, the answer was, “It is not required for the examination.”

This shows how seriously those college professors and trustees have erred who have imagined that they were turning our American colleges into German universities by making the studies elective and optional. The German institution which corresponds to an American college as a school of general intellectual training is the gymnasium, where there is but a minimum of election in the studies; e.g., Hebrew is optional, and the student has perhaps a choice between English and some other study. The Germans suppose that experienced teachers and men of tried ability, who have devoted years to investigating the matter, are better able to judge of the studies advisable for the general development of the intellectual powers of boys than the boys themselves. It would seem that they might be in the right. On the contrary, the essence of the freedom which each university student has of electing his studies is simply the freedom given to men of selecting their own professions. The door through which every German must pass into office or profession is the examination; but the Minister of Instruction and other public authorities prescribe very minutely the studies required for each examination. Each German student is required to have pursued certain sciences, differing according to his intended profession, before he can enter active life. He has only the liberty of pursuing them when, where, and in the order which he will. He selects his own books, professors, and has his own method. He may be five years in preparing for the examination, or ten, if he chooses to waste time. This is truly a considerable liberty, but far less than it is generally supposed the German students enjoy. Professor Helmholtz, in his inaugural address, delivered October 15, 1877, as rector of the University of Berlin, acknowledges that many German fathers and statesmen have demanded a diminution of even the existing liberty of university life, and adds, farther, that a stricter discipline and control of the students by the professors would undoubtedly save many a young man who goes to ruin under the present system.

There are three departments of our colleges or universities which correspond to three of those of the German universities, and offer no insurmountable difficulty in the perfection of our school system. These departments are those of law, theology, and medicine. The reforms necessary must be evident to men of the respective professions: greater freedom of the schools from the principle of private money-making institutions; a longer and more thorough course of study, as in Germany, where the time required to be passed in previous study for admittance to the professions of law and medicine is about double what it is in the United States; higher requirements for admittance to these professional schools. That here is a place where the government, if not the central, at least that of the separate States, has a duty to perform, no political economist or statesman of note is so given to the laissez-faire principle as to deny. All of our States recognize this, and exercise some control as regards physicians and lawyers. If a tailor makes me a poor suit of clothes, no great harm is done: I try another next time. Besides, I can demand samples of his work beforehand, and even if no tailor myself, am not utterly unable to judge of his work. Here the principle of private competition is the only proper one. But the principle of private competition in respect of law and medicine is not sufficient. If a medical quack kills my child, it does not help the matter to reply to my complaints, “Well, try another doctor next time.” It is heartless. My child is dead, and nothing can help the matter now. “But you should have known that the man was a humbug, ” says some one. I should have known nothing of the kind. It is precisely because I do not know, because I am no physician, that I require one. Again, in many small towns there is only one physician, and the people have no choice. It is the same case with lawyers. An ignorant or incapable man may cause me the loss of my property, or even my neck. This “next time” theory helps the matter not at all. It is too late. There is for me no next time. The man appeared to me clever; he talked well, and I tried him. I judged as well as I could, but my not being a lawyer made it impossible for me to be a competent judge of his abilities. The State, then, does its citizens a real service, and one they can not do for themselves, in forcing candidates for the legal and medical professions to submit themselves to an examination by competent authorities, who pronounce upon their fitness for exercising the functions of lawyers or doctors. This principle is recognized by every civilized government in the world, though perhaps nowhere so laxly and negligently as in the United States. What is necessary, then, as regards these professional schools is for the State by proper legislation to raise the standard of requirements, and so assist the colleges and universities in giving us an able and properly educated set of professional men, as in Germany, where actual legal and medical malpractice are exceedingly rare. England has lately been forced to take a step in the right direction by making the requirements for becoming a physician severer. The profession was too open to the principle of free competition, and the abuses became intolerable. One other means of improving these professional schools would be to bring them in closer connection with the college departments, so that a medical or law student should have the liberty of hearing lectures on history, political economy, etc., if he wished. All the different schools should, of course, have one common library. This is the plan pursued on the continent of Europe. It frequently happens, too, that students of different departments have the same studies, and it is a waste of time, money, and force to separate them here. The law student is not the only one who needs to understand “international law,” nor the medical student the only one who ought to have some knowledge of physiology and hygiene.¹

¹ The writer does not consider the theological schools, because that is a matter which each Church must take care of for itself, so long as state and church are entirely separate. Where there are so many sects as in the United States it may be well that the schools of divinity should be by themselves.

The so-called college department, or “college proper,” is the one which offers most difficulty to the reformer, and the one where the most confusion prevails. When the course of study is simply one for general culture, it is no part of a university, in the continental European sense of that term. There is, therefore, in America a want of a school offering opportunities to large and constantly increasing classes of men for pursuing professional studies—a want which is deeply felt, and which sends every year many students and millions of dollars out of the country. Where in the United States can a young man prepare himself thoroughly to become a teacher of the ancient classics? A simple college course is not enough. The Germans require that their teachers of Latin and Greek should pursue the classics as a specialty for three years at a university after having completed the gymnasium, which as a classical school would be universally admitted to rank with our colleges. Every college professor of Latin and Greek must admit the need of better preparatory teachers. The poor entrance examinations, when the candidates for admissions do not come from some one of our few old and excellent but expensive academies, like Exeter, Andover, and the Boston Latin School, bear only too strong witness of their previous training. If an American wishes to pursue a special course in history, politics, political economy, mathematics, physics, philosophy, or in any one of many other studies lying outside of the three professions, law, medicine, and theology, he must go to Europe. Even to pursue the study of United States history, the American will do better to go abroad. From Maine to California, from Minnesota to Texas, there is no institution which teaches United States history thoroughly. Many colleges require no knowledge of it, either for entering or graduating. Others imagine that they have done their full duty in demanding a few historical names and dates as condition of admittance. As many—in the country the majority—of our lower schools do not teach history, the result is sad enough. English papers have with reason spoken slightingly of historical instruction in our country. Again, whoever desires, even in theology, medicine, or law, to select some one branch as a specialty, must go to Europe to do so. But these professional schools are already organized, and their needs recognized.

What is to be done about the college department? How get system out of the confusion of our system, or rather no system? for we have in the United States, with the exception of a few States, no school system, although some good schools.² Until we have adopted a satisfactory system, we may rest assured that thousands of parents will continue to educate their children in Europe.

² He who would be convinced of the unreason of our educational organization, can do no better than read the able and interesting address delivered by Andrew D. White, LLD., now United States Minister at Berlin, before the National Educational Association at Detroit, August 5,1874. It is entitled, “The Relations of the National and State Governments to Advanced Education,” and published in pamphlet form by “Old and New,” Boston.

We have the materials in the United States for a good school system, beginning in the common school and ending in the university; the need is organization. Dr. Barnard would have three grades—the school, academy, and college.³ But should not a. fourth be added—the university? It is not necessary that the university should be separate from the college, though in some places it might be, as in the Johns Hopkins University, which started with the intent of becoming a university. Harvard will serve as an illustration. If Harvard required a college education for entering any one of its departments, placing them all on a level, made all studies elective except in examination, and enlarged its curriculum so as to enable one to pursue special courses in Latin, Greek, political science, etc., it would become in every respect a professional school, i. e., a. university.⁴ Those who entered would already have finished their general studies, and would go there to prepare for some particular profession, as that of teacher of Latin and Greek, or some one or two of the natural sciences, or to become physician, editor, etc. Now it is different. Harvard demands very limited requirements for entering its professional schools, but desires that the students of these schools should first complete the college course of four years. So long as this is expected, it seems impossible that the requirements for admission to the college department should be raised. If a young man is eighteen years of age upon entering, he is not able to begin his professional studies before twenty-two, which makes him at least twenty-five upon entering practical life—quite old enough. Harvard’s requirements for admission give the American student a rather longer course before beginning his professional career than is required from his German compeer, who commences them at twenty or thereabouts. If Harvard continues to increase its conditions for admission to the college department, it can not expect the lawyers, doctors, and clergymen to pursue just the college course. The result would be that more young men than at present would begin their professional studies without having previously pursued even an ordinary college course. The solution of the difficulty lies in rather diminishing than otherwise the requirements for admission to the college proper, or academic department, of Harvard, in putting the extra studies in the graduate courses, which latter form part of the university proper, and in requiring a college education at Harvard or some other good college as a condition of entering any department of the university. The writer would thus separate distinctly college education and university education. Their methods and aims are different. The college should adhere to its old plan, give thorough instruction in Latin, Greek, French, German, mathematics, general history, etc. The courses should be, for the most part, prescribed, and contain such studies as would fit young men for taking a position in society as educated gentlemen; then should follow business or professional studies. It would seem that this course ought to be finished at twenty, as Dr. McCosh recommends. In other countries the corresponding courses of study do not require more time, though in most the professional courses are longer and severer, as they will surely become in the United States, as they must become, in a time when all professions are making such strides, and the number of studies increased proportionately. If colleges, then, consecrated themselves to this more modest but more useful plan of becoming higher academies, and nothing more, we should find that our four hundred and twenty-five colleges were not such a great superfluity as we now think. Great laboratories, costly observatories, and apparatus indispensable to a university, would be entirely unnecessary. Thoroughness, of which there is now great lack, should be one of the main points. In some places in the West there would be still too many colleges, but by uniting in some places, and by a better local distribution in others, this could be remedied. Let us compare the statistics of two other countries, in which the excellence of higher instruction is admitted alike by friend and foe— France and Germany. In 1874 Germany had 333 gymnasia, besides 170 progymnasia and Latin schools. The progymnasia are a low grade of academy, but some of the Latin schools rank with the gymnasia. Since 1874 over twenty new gymnasia and progymnasia have been established. We can calculate, therefore, that Germany has at least 350 gymnasia or classical colleges. But besides these there were, in the beginning of the year 1874, 106 “Realschulen erster Ordnung, ” which have a curriculum similar to the Latin and scientific course of some of our colleges, as Cornell. Germany has, therefore, over 450 “colleges proper,” scientific and classical, and is increasing the number. Germany’s population is a trifle greater than that of the United States. Prussia, with less than 26,000,000 inhabitants, had, in 1874, seventy-nine “ Realschulen erster Ordnung, ” with 23,748 scholars ; 228 gymnasia, with 57, 605 students; together, 81,353. It is not to be forgotten that the scholars enter the gymnasia and Realschulen when very young, so that the time required to complete the course is eight years. The programmes of these schools and the statistics seem to justify us in ascribing to a little less than one-third of the scholars the rank of American college students, say, 25,000 in Prussia.

³ Dr. Bernard‘s position is not here accurately stated. In his Albany address he was considering general, and not professional, education; and his complaint was that the ground is taken away from under any possible university proper, in this country, by clothing every petty college with university powers.—Editor Harper’s Magazine.

⁴ The term university is here used in the sense in which it is, or has come to be, used in Germany. It is not the primary signification. The German universities have developed into professional schools, while the British, originally identical in form with those of the continent, have not undergone that development. Is not the power of conferring degrees, as Dr. Barnard suggests, the distinctive function of a. university, i. e., of a university in the European sense of the term? Are not all the elements that go to make a school a university simply those which fit it for the exercise of this function?— Editor Harper’s Magazine.

France, with a smaller population than the United States, has eighty lycées, with 36,756 scholars, and 244 colleges, with 32,744 scholars; together, 69,500. These schools resemble German gymnasia, and we shall not probably be far out of the way in giving 20,000 of them the rank of American college students.

According to Dr. Bernard’s statistics, as given in Harper’s Weekly, the number of under-graduates in all American colleges is 18,000. We see that a greater proportion of the youth of France and Germany devote themselves to liberal studies than of America. Besides, there are over 19,000 university students in Germany, not to speak of those in the mining and technical schools, undoubtedly many more than in the graduate and professional schools in the United States. In France, in 1868, the attendance at university lectures amounted to 11,903. But in France the faculties have the right of holding examinations and granting diplomas. Twenty-seven thousand six hundred and thirty-four examinations were held in the same year; 9344 received diplomas.

As America becomes older and wealth increases, we might expect, a priori, the proportionate number of Americans availing themselves of the advantages of higher education to increase. This is unfortunately not the case, as the careful statistics of Dr. Barnard too clearly demonstrate. Many reasons can be given for this decrease. One may be the higher standard required for admission by some of the best colleges. One would hardly like to say that, abstractly considered, even Harvard‘s requirements were too severe, but they stand out of all relation to the condition of the lower schools in the greater part of the country. It is not daring to assert that there are entire States in the Union where scarcely a suitable preparatory school for institutions like Harvard, Yale, and Columbia exists. Now parents may be willing to send their sons away from home at sixteen, but most fathers and mothers do not like to do so when they are only ten years old. The remedy lies in a better provision and more careful supervision of grammar and high schools. It were very desirable that none but college graduates, or those who should pass an examination implying the same amount of knowledge as a college graduate is expected to have, should be permitted to occupy the higher positions in these schools. The government has manifestly the same right to demand this that it has to require the present minimum of knowledge. It seems childish to argue the question, but so many good people among us are blindly attached to the laissez-faire principle of the last century that it may be well to put one or two questions to them. What right has the state to force those who wish to teach to pass any examination at all? How can one limit this right, once conceded, so as to make it meaningless? If the government has the duty of seeing that the rising generation is educated, why should it not have the right of using such means as will enable it to accomplish its duty effectually? Nay, what right has the government to use the people’s money, or allow it to be used, in employing public servants who are incapable of performing their duties efficiently? At present the requirements are so low that the supply of teachers greatly exceeds the demand, and that American has had an experience as happy as rare who has not repeatedly seen brazen effrontery take the place away from modest merit. The Germans, whom we often accuse of a lack of practical understanding, exhibit more common-sense in these matters than we. In Germany the requirements are proportioned to the grade of the teacher, and are kept so high that the demand for teachers is slightly in excess of the supply. There is thus a tendency toward a continual advance in quality. Every encouragement is offered to excellence, as it is rewarded proportionately. Another probable cause of the small number of college students is the discredit brought on higher education by Western institutions like the “universities” of Ohio, of which not one, according to so distinguished and well-informed an educational authority as Minister White, can rank above third or fourth class, “judged even by the American standard.” The chief struggle and chief rivalry of each seems to be to obtain a larger number of students than its neighbors. One institution in Ohio has been promised a large sum of money when the number of its students attains a certain figure. The effect on entrance and other examinations is self-evident. Besides, one can not avoid reflecting that that is a rather low state of culture in which men are valued like sheep, at so much a head! To learn what a wise system of State action can do, we have but to look to Michigan, whose educational system, ending in the university at Ann Arbor, is an honor to the country.⁵

⁵ For a farther consideration of this point, see the admirable address on advanced education by Dr. White.

A third reason why there are so few college students is palpable in a literal sense—as palpable as gold and silver. The expenses of living at the first-class colleges have increased faster than the wealth of those classes which supply them with their under-graduates. A student can not live comfortably at Harvard for less than $700 per annum, but in the wealthy State of New York there are towns of several thousand inhabitants where a man can easily count on his fingers all the fathers who can educate their sons at such an expense. The scholarships at Harvard are not equal to the demand, and many who would otherwise go to Harvard are too independent to accept them. The tuition fee of $150 is comparatively enormous. The same number of hours’ instruction at an expensive German university, e. g., Heidelberg, do not cost one-third so much, at the University of Geneva not one-sixth. In fact, it is cheaper to go to Europe to study than to go to Harvard. If men of wealth would employ their money in reducing the expensiveness of the first-class colleges, and so opening them up to new classes of society, they would confer a benefit on their country.

When it becomes generally understood that a college education is not a university one, but, according to the old idea, an intellectual training which is desirable for every man who is able to enjoy its privileges, whatever is to be his business or profession, and when colleges return to their former aims, often too hastily forsaken, we may expect to see classes of the people flock to their learned halls who up to this time have neglected them.

Universities are needed, and a few of the best colleges, the development of which already lies in that direction, ought to supply this want. These colleges are well enough known—Harvard, Cornell, the University of Michigan, and, since it has been under President Barnard’s management, Columbia. Many think that Columbia has a special duty in this direction on account of its wealth. It has also the good fortune of being situated in a great city—the only place for a true university, however it may be with a college. Columbia is, too, less expensive than Harvard and some other New England colleges. In fact, in a city like New York one can live upon what he will. Columbia’s generosity in regard to tuition fees, and the way they are remitted, is truly praiseworthy. It is said that one-third pay none whatever; but the. writer was a member of a class in Columbia three years without learning the name of one classmate who did not pay his tuition.

Let no one blame the presidents and professors of our best institutions for not doing more. They are men who do not suffer morally or intellectually by comparison with the faculties of the most renowned European universities. If they had the same advantages as the German professors, they would not do less in advancing science; but at present they are overloaded with work. They are also less independent than the German professors. Science is a tender plant, and requires favorable circumstances for a high development. A professor ought to be lifted above all fear of party and sect.

Germany has twenty-one universities, including the academy at Münster, which has the same rank. We might in the course of time support as many. Once more here is a place for government interference, for we may as well make up our minds once for all that private initiative is not sufficient. England’s educational history proves it as well as America‘s. It is doubtful if in the whole history of the world one single case can be pointed to where private competition and private generosity have proved themselves sufficient. None but universities should be allowed to call themselves such. The government has precisely the same right to forbid this that it has to prevent me from travelling about as Mr. Evarts, and thus securing the various advantages which might accrue to me from representing myself as the Honorable Secretary of State.

The colleges could continue to give the degree of artium baccalaureus, as the French collége and lycées do ; but it should be clearly understood that it is a college and not a university degree. The universities could give the artium magister, or still better, as being more distinct from the baccalaureus, the doctor philosophies, doctor juris, doctor medicinae, doctor scientiarum naturalium, etc., as the German universities do. It should be clearly stated on the diploma in what subject the student had passed his chief examination, as is also the case in the German universities. If a student desired to teach Latin or Greek in an academy or college, he should be obliged to take a course of Latin or Greek at a university. But his doctorate of ancient classics ought not to assist him in securing a position as professor of astronomy.