vations and measurements, together with the conclusions which he draws from them. The laboratory book in which this record is kept, bearing the certificate of his instructor, must be presented for critical examination when he comes to Cambridge. In addition to this, he is tested by a written paper and by a laboratory examination.

This very complete form of examination, although it takes a long time, really tests the candidate's knowledge of physics, his skill in experimenting, and his power of reasoning. It is very unfortunate that the time devoted to the mathematical examinations is too short to make the tests as fair as this. One hour is all that is allowed for each of the mathematical examinations. The result of this is that the pupil is asked to do more thinking than he can do in the time allowed, or the ground covered by the examination is so small that the examiner cannot estimate the candidate's knowledge and ability accurately.

In the laboratory study of physics the pupil learns fewer facts, perhaps, than he did in the textbook study, but each fact is impressed upon his mind with the additional force of personal discovery; just as we all have a deeper impression of a fact which we have discovered for ourselves than we have of one which is told us by others, or of which we read. He learns to observe and make an intelligent record of what he sees, and, what is most important, he learns to reason from these observations to the broad generalizations which are called physical laws. Such a course of study as this, under a good teacher, is certainly practical. The pupil's mind must be trained, and his interest awakened by it.

Unfortunately, the expense of laboratories has compelled the college to allow the old physics requirement to remain as an alternative to the new one, but the study of elementary astronomy is coupled with it; so that the amount of work required is greater than in the laboratory

course, and schools are rapidly coming to teach the new in preference to the old. No such remarkable changes have been made in the examinations in history and English, but in these subjects, by comparing the old and the present examination papers, one sees the same tendency which has been noticed in each of the previous subjects. The pupil is not examined on facts alone, but is also obliged to show his powers of analysis. The questions in history are now broader, and frequently deal with the development of nations rather than with the incidental facts which marked this development. In the English examination, the candidate is obliged to show his practical acquaintance with English forms and good use by correcting specimens of bad English, and by writing a short composi tion on a subject chosen from the books he has read. To be able to do this he must have read the books intelligently, and must have had sufficient practice in writing to express himself readily and clearly.

The advanced studies are supposed to occupy equal amounts of time in preparation, and in that sense are considered equivalent. Hence the student, in making his choice of two or more of them, is guided only by his tastes and abilities. The examinations in them demand the same kind of training that has been pointed out in reference to the elementary studies. Each subject must be studied from this same point of view, namely, to train the thinking powers as well as to store the mind with useful facts.

In the four language studies the pupil must read more advanced works; that is, works in which the style is less simple and the thought more profound. He passes from simple narrative to poetry or argumentative prose. The requirement in Latin is the reading at sight of average passages from Cicero and Virgil. In Greek the passages are chosen from Homer or Herodotus. In Latin and Greek composition the candidate must

be able to translate passages of connected English narrative into good Latin and Greek. In French and German he must show his familiarity with certain specified works which have become classic, and, moreover, must also be able to read at sight any passage of standard French and German prose, and to write in these languages about the books which he has read. In physics he must perform sixty additional experiments, covering the same branches of the science which he has already studied, but requiring more skill and knowledge of physics. The examination is like that in elementary physics. In chemistry he must perform sixty experiments, covering the elements of the science. He must keep a laboratory record, as in physics, and his examination is of the same kind. In mathematics he goes from algebra and geometry into higher branches of mathematical science. In trigonometry he must not only study the science itself, but must also understand its practical application to surveying and navigation. In solid geometry he applies his power of geometrical reasoning which was got by a study of plane geometry to the study of surfaces and solids. In analytical geometry he applies his knowledge of algebra to the study of plane figures and conic sections. In advanced algebra he studies the more abstract conceptions of higher algebraic analysis.

From this brief discussion of the forms of examination and the kind of instruction which is required to meet such examination, it is seen that the desire of the college is to require each student who is admitted not only to have a large amount of useful knowledge, but at the same time to know how to use this knowledge to the best advantage. All the changes which have been made tend toward this desirable end. The old system of examination aimed to find out whether the candidate had studied those books in language or science which the

college recommended. The new system aims to find out whether he can reason and use the knowledge he has gained from those books. For instance, he is not asked to show that he has read Cæsar, but that he can read it. No cramming can enable him to pass such examinations as these. Hence he must be educated. Every pupil lays a good foundation to build his superstructure on, and can pursue the courses of study offered to him in college to the best advantage. Each elementary study is of great practical value to every man, whatever is to be his calling in life, and can therefore be prescribed for all candidates without imposing unnecessary and profitless work upon any one. Each subject, if taught as the college evidently means to have it taught, makes the student think, and gives its own peculiar training to his mind, beside imparting useful knowledge. The classics give him broad yet exact conceptions, and enable him to read their ancient literature when he is older and can appreciate it. The modern languages give the same training to his mind, but to a much smaller extent, and open to him the living literatures of two great nations beside his own. The mathematics give exact but narrow conceptions, and the power to solve the practical problems which meet a man at every turn. The natural sciences, while enlarging his thinking powers, give him a knowledge of the forces around him, and show him how truth may be learned from phenomena. English teaches him how to write and speak his own tongue, and introduces him to the great thoughts of our own literature. History gives him an insight into the deeds and motives of great men and into the development of great nations. In short, every subject enlarges the student's mind, and stores this enlarged mind with knowledge. Surely such a requirement as this is a good foundation for a liberal education.

James Jay Greenough.

EVER since the year 1812, when Governor Gerry, of Massachusetts, signer of the Declaration of Independence and doer of many other worthy things, was "damned to everlasting fame" by the verbalizing of his name, the " gerrymander" has been a source of much trouble to the lovers of political liberty. The anti-Federalists, during their temporary ascendency at that time, established a precedent which has been as a shining mark for every political trickster in the land down to this day; for, by cutting up old districts and dismembering counties, those astute politicians were able so to reconstruct the senatorial districts of the State that in the following election, though they polled but 50,164 votes, they secured twenty-nine Senators, while the Federalists, with 51,766 votes, got but eleven Senators. Such a result is one long to be remembered by those who look to their ancestors as the source of all wisdom and virtue; it is an everpresent incentive to the ambitious in evil ways. The fantastic figure outlined by the district which the Republicans made from portions of Worcester and Essex counties, and dubbed by the artist Gilbert Stuart a "Salamander," and by Mr. Russell, editor of the Columbian Centinel, a "Gerrymander," has been duplicated with more or less fidelity many times in the various States, as one party or another has gained the ascendency. And while the zealous followers of those old-time political assassins may not have turned out anything quite so artistic, zoologically considered, it must be admitted that, diabolically, they have been quite as ingenious.

The term "gerrymander" applies to day, as it did in 1812, to that action whereby a majority in a legislature so arranges the districts of the political unit that it can secure a much greater part of

the representation than its vote entitles it to. These electoral districts, whether they be for aldermen, members of the legislature, or Congressmen, are supposed to contain a uniform population, so nearly as may be, and each is to be composed of contiguous territory whose people have common interests. But it will readily be seen that, as contiguous territory and uniformity of population are the only elements enjoined by the Constitution, the legislature can, by running the district lines in and out among the counties, arrange them in such a manner that the result will be altogether different from what it should be. As the votes in any given locality do not vary much from year to year, save when exceptional storm waves sweep over the country, it can be determined to a nicety just what results will follow from any given apportionment. Whenever a party, in apportioning a State, sees fit to throw the strongholds of its opponent into a few districts, and distributes its own votes so evenly throughout the remaining ones that they will constitute a bare majority in each, it can secure the same results as did the Massachusetts Jeffersonian Republicans in 1812.

Let Ohio serve as an illustration. The parties in that State are so evenly divided that it has long been the scene of intense political activity, and offers a most congenial climate for the gerrymander. In the election of Congressmen in 1880, the Republicans polled 50.9 per cent of the vote, and got seventy-five per cent of the representation, while the Democrats, with 47.8 per cent of the vote, secured only twenty-five per cent of the representation. The Democrats averaged 68,114 votes to a Congressman, the Republicans 24,203; it required nearly three times as many votes in one party as in the other to elect a representative.

The census giving Ohio another Congressman, the State was divided into twenty-one districts. At the following election, in 1882, the Republicans, with 46.9 per cent of the vote, secured but 38.1 per cent of the Congressmen, while the Democrats, with 50.3 per cent of the vote, got 61.9 per cent of the representation. This apportionment being unsatisfactory, the Democrats rearranged the districts just before the election of 1884, and were unintentionally quite generous to their opponents; for in the election of that year the Republicans got 47.6 per cent of the representation with a vote of 50.7 per cent, whereas the Democrats got but 52.4 per cent of the Congressmen with a vote of forty-eight per cent. But this was altogether too close to justice to suit the Ohio idea; it looked entirely too much like a representative government. The Republicans, therefore, rearranged the districts in the spring of 1886 in such a manner that in the fall elections of that year they got 71.4 per cent of the representation with 48.5 per cent of the vote, while their opponents, with 46.9 per cent of the vote, got but 28.6 per cent of the congressional delegation; the Republicans averaged 22,404 votes to a Congressman, and the Democrats 54,273. For some unknown reason the apportionment was not changed by the succeeding legislature, probably owing to the fact that the Republicans, who still controlled the legislature, thought it best to let well enough alone. With 49.7 per cent of the vote, the Republicans in 1888 obtained 76.2 per cent of the representation, while the Democrats, with 47.2 per cent of the vote, got but 23.8 per cent. The Republicans averaged 26,032 votes per Congressman, the Democrats 79,128; the Republican voter having more than three times as much representation in Congress as the Democratic voter. This seems to have been the high-water mark. The Democrats, though smarting from the depredations of the last gerrymander,

reapportioned the State in 1890; but their hand had lost its cunning, for, notwithstanding the tidal wave which swept over the country in that year, they secured only 66.7 per cent of the representation with 47.5 per cent of the total vote, while the Republicans had 33.3 per cent of the Congressmen with a vote of 49.1 per cent. The Democrats averaged 25,109 votes per Congressman; the Republicans, 51,803. The present legislature is Republican, and is busily engaged in reconstructing the districts, and the political world awaits with impatient curiosity the result of its labors. Thus the State has been fought over for years, gerrymandered and re-gerrymandered, and gerrymandered again; each party striving, as opportunity offered, to surpass the villainies of its opponent.

As a mathematical exercise, these jugglings with apportionments are good; as a crazy-quilt pattern, the congressional district maps rank high, for the running of their lines would put to shame the maker of the Cretan labyrinth; or such ingenuity may serve as an amusement for children and feeble - minded statesmen. But what in the name of political integrity has this to do with popular government? Are the citizens of this country such children or fools as to imagine for a moment that political liberty and morality can thrive, or even survive, in such an atmosphere? Or are they reckless knaves engaged in internecine strife?

By means of the all-potent gerrymander, the party controlling the legislature can not only deprive its opponent of a just share in the representation, but it can so make up the districts that a particularly obnoxious, because powerful, opponent will be overcome by an adverse majority. It was thus that Major McKinley was deprived of his seat in Congress by the Democrats, at the last election. In the same way the Republican legislature of Pennsylvania kept Mr. Randall in Congress; a protectionist

Democrat of his ability and prominence being of more use to them than any available Republican. It is thus that any man may be kept in or out of Congress as suits the ends of the party making the apportionments; men of national reputation are at the mercy of the petty politicians who can by hook or by crook get themselves into the state legislatures.

The political jugglery practiced in such States as Ohio is responsible for what may be called the artificial gerrymander; but there is another and more common form of disfranchisement, due to what may be called the natural gerrymander. A recent writer on this subject says that "a State may be fairly apportioned, and yet the minority party be able to elect none of the Congressmen, or a smaller number than its vote would seem to entitle it to." To say that a party may fairly be denied what it is entitled to is only to declare that water will not seek its level when frozen. And yet men who masquerade in the guise of statesmen accept as a perfect political system that in which a party may poll a third or two fifths of the vote year after year without securing any share in the representation. Under that system, it often happens that the voters are so evenly divided throughout the State that, no matter how the districts are made up, the majority party in the State will have a majority in each district. Such is the condition in Kansas, Minnesota, Texas, and other States. Again it may happen that the strength of one party lies within a very small compass, while that of the other is evenly distributed throughout the State. Thus in New York the Democratic strength lies mostly in and about New York city, while that of the Republicans is spread over the whole State. The Democrats often carry the State, but seldom get a majority in the legislature or in the congressional delegation.

But the difference between the natural and the artificial gerrymander is

merely the distinction between manslaughter and murder. From a moral point of view it is very important to the slayer which term is applied to his deed, but it is the same in either case to the victim, he is dead. The men who apportioned Massachusetts and Kansas may have done so with the utmost regard for justice and fair play, while those who arranged the districts in Ohio may have purposely distorted them; but the result is the same in both cases,the victim is dead.

Much has been said of late about the gerrymander, a little about the natural, and a good deal about the artificial, —and some spasmodic efforts have been made to destroy the beast. Many means have been proposed, but most of them have been in the nature of palliatives; they signally fail to go to the root of the matter. Sometimes it is proposed to raise the people to such a degree of political integrity that they will not tolerate such doings. As well try to mend the wrong-doings in the city's police department by making the citizens so honest that policemen will be unnecessary. It has also been proposed that Congress take charge of the congressional apportionments; but it may be anticipated that this would merely change the scene of action without material benefit. other proposition is that Congressmen be elected by majority vote from the State at large; but this would only destroy the disease by killing the patient, since, under such a plan, the minority party would have no representation at all. Still another suggestion is to give the voters first and second choice; this applies only to the majority party, for the minority has no choice at all. The cumulative vote has also been proposed, and was recommended by a special committee of the Senate in 1869. This is a long way in advance of the other proposals, as it would stop gerrymandering and give the minority parties representation, but the plan is objectionable because so wasteful.

An