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enter the world with all the odds against them, and to whom the school means everything or nothing. These remarks must not be construed as indicating that the children of the poor shall not be taught any subjects beyond the three R's, because even in the case of such children there is no object in pushing these studies beyond a reasonable limit, aggregating at the outside, as my tests have proved, not over half the school day. But I do wish them to be so construed as to indicate that no results, whether tangible or intangible, immediate or prospective, shall be accepted as substitutes for reasonable results in spelling, penmanship, language, and arithmetic.

The lesson to be learned from what I have said is, clearly, that it is our duty to give to those children who start out in life with all the odds against them the advantage of the best education that can be possibly given to them; and this can only be assured by placing the schools of the poorest districts in charge of the strongest principals and teachers that can be found for them, regardless of what the cost may be, the strength of these principals and teachers to be estimated not by their scholarship or their knowledge of pedagogy, but solely upon evidence of superior workmanship. And when we consider that my tests in arithmetic and English brought to light a variation in efficiency of three to one in favor of the strongest as against the weakest schools, and of no less than eight to one in arithmetic and four to one in English in the highest grade of such schools, we are justified in inferring, if not in actually concluding, that a very strong school will succeed in starting on the way to a higher sphere at least three times as many handicapped children as a very weak school will succeed in doing; and if we are ever to realize our hope of ameliorating the condition of the poor through education, this suggestion will give us a definite clew for action.

The objection to tests on the ground that results are unimportant having been found untenable from every point of view, it remains for me to answer the argument that tests are objectionable because they are incompetent to distinguish between mechanical and genuine results, and are even more likely to tell in favor of mechanical teachers than they are in favor of those who are really doing excellent work. And as it is said that at the time when examinations held sway the teachers did but little beyond drilling the pupils in preparation for them, it is feared that a return to the uniform examinations would be followed by a return to mechanical teaching, if merely for self-protection.

When this argument is considered superficially, it certainly appears very plausible; but when it includes, at the same time, the inference

that the testing of the product tends to retard rather than to further its development, which is so completely the reverse of what we know to be true of those fields of science in which the remarkable developments of recent years have taken place, fields in which every new step has been followed by exhaustive tests, while every new test in turn has served as a guide to future activity, it is evident that the claim is fundamentally unsound. And the flaw is simply this, that while a change in the system of instruction from a mechanical to a more rational one justified the claim that the success of a rational process must not be estimated by a mechanical standard, it did not justify the claim that it cannot be judged by any intelligible standard. Therefore, the course that should have been pursued when the new movement began was not to discard the test, but simply so to change its character as to bring it into conformity with the new ideals.

Now, as such a change in the character of the tests has never been contemplated, it so happens that educators have become accustomed to believe that they are obliged to choose between the two alternatives of retaining the mechanical test, with all the dangers of mechanizing instruction, on the one hand, and of entirely discarding the test, with all the dangers of disorganization, on the other. However, the contention that there is no other alternative is simply based on the idea that because all tests have heretofore been tests of mechanical knowledge, they will always have to remain so, while in truth there is no great difficulty in so changing their nature as to bring them into harmony with the new ideals. As the difference between the old and the new ideals lies primarily in the fact that while the former did not aim beyond the mere acquisition of knowledge and skill, the latter aims, in addition, to develop efficiency, i.e., to give the child the ability to apply intelligently and readily such knowledge as he acquires, it is evident that the desired change could be accomplished simply by so formulating the tests that they would demonstrate not merely what the children know, but also their ability to apply what they know. And the claim that it is impossible to devise any system of testing capable of demonstrating whether or not the pupils really have the ability to apply what they have learned, and to give intelligent and ready expression to their ideas, resolves itself in the ultimate analysis to the contention that it is impossible to demonstrate by means of tests that a very bright child is more intelligent than one who is mentally defective, which is, of course, absurd.

If, then, the conclusion is forced upon us from every direction that


the efficiency of the teacher can only be measured by measuring the efficiency of her pupils, it is but reasonable to suppose that sooner or later a systematic study of results will be looked upon as an indispensable feature in the conduct of the schools of every community. However, as a study of results along the lines that I have suggested would merely lead to the preparation of a statement showing what results had been achieved by the various schools of an individual locality, but could not indicate whether or not these schools, as a whole, had done as well as they might or should have done, it is evident that the establishment of a department of results could not yet represent the final step in the evolution of the educational system, but that still another element would have to be brought into play before the latter could be regarded as in any sense complete. That is to say, the results achieved in the schools of a single locality simply represent the product of a single machine, and the degree of efficiency of any one machine cannot be estimated until its product is compared with that of other machines, upon a basis of the cost of production.

Consequently it matters not how high we are willing to carry the per capita cost of instruction, it will be impossible to conduct an educational system on anything like a rational basis until there is established, over and above the local machinery, a central agency whose purpose shall be to institute comparisons between the results achieved in different localities, and to endeavor, in this way, to develop standards which will be capable of indicating, at least approximately, what results ought to be achieved in any school or system of schools laboring under certain specified conditions, or what results in any individual branch ought to be obtained in a given school when a given amount of time is devoted to that branch. I do not venture to say that it will ever be possible to draw such fine distinctions in education as are drawn in commercial competition; but when it is borne in mind that my own. investigations have shown the ordinary variation in the value of the product to be as three to one, regardless of the cost of production, it is evident that immense improvements could be brought about without even aiming at fine distinctions. And I have every reason to believe that the bureau which has been established by the recently organized Society of Educational Research will be able to do a great deal toward the development of at least approximately accurate standards, in a number of branches, in the course of a very brief period.



IN June, 1902, a law was passed authorizing the President to make a treaty with Colombia for the building of a canal across the Isthmus of Panama, and providing that, in the event of failure to make such a treaty after the lapse of a reasonable time, recourse should be had to Nicaragua. In accordance with this law, a treaty was framed, ratified by our Senate, and submitted to the Congress of Colombia. That Congress rejected it, and a few days later (November 3, 1903) the people of Panama revolted against Colombia and proclaimed their independence. On the 6th of the same month we acknowledged the de facto government, on the 13th the independence, of Panama, and on the 18th we negotiated a treaty with the new Republic providing for the construction of a canal and guaranteeing the independence of the new-born state. This treaty has since been ratified by the Senate and is now a part of the law of the land. The independence of Panama and the guarantee of its independence by our Government are accomplished facts. Discussion cannot change them. But it is eminently fitting that, as a self-governing people, we should carefully inquire whether we have observed the principles of justice in those dealings with Colombia to which Panama owes its existence as an independent state.

When the President received the new minister from Panama, he made a short speech in which he said: "It is fitting that we should do so [acknowledge the independence of Panama] as we did nearly a century ago, when the Latin peoples of America proclaimed the right of popular government, and it is equally fitting that the United States should now, as then, be the first to stretch out the hand of fellowship . . . toward the new-born state."

No one needs to be told that there is the sharpest contrast between our attitude toward the South American Republics nearly a century ago and our attitude toward the new Republic of Panama; we waited seven years to acknowledge the independence of the former, and ten days to acknowledge that of the latter; we did not forcibly intervene in behalf of the former, while we have so intervened in behalf of the latter; and most

important of all, our pecuniary interest in the independence of the South American Republics was as nothing when compared with our pecuniary interest in the independence of Panama. The consideration of this latter fact cannot but raise the doubt whether it would not have been more fitting in the United States to have been the last rather than the first of the great Powers of the world to recognize the independence of Panama.

Nor will this doubt be removed by a study of the official correspondence in relation to the affair. On November 6, Secretary Hay, in telegraphing to Mr. Beaupré, our minister to Colombia, that we had acknowledged the de facto government of Panama, made this statement: "He [the President] holds that he is bound not merely by treaty obligations, but by the interests of civilization to see that the peaceable traffic of the world across the Isthmus of Panama shall no longer be disturbed by a succession of unnecessary and wasteful wars." On November 11 he sent another telegram, in which he said: "It is not thought desirable to permit landing of Colombian troops in the Isthmus, as such a course would precipitate civil war, and disturb for an indefinite period the free transit which we are pledged to protect." In accordance with this policy, telegrams were sent, on November 3, to the commander of the "Nashville" at Colon, ordering him to make every effort "to prevent government troops from proceeding to Panama, or taking any action which would lead to bloodshed." In a word, the Government of the United States stepped in between Colombia and the Panama insurgents, on the ground that we were required by the interests of civilization and the obligations of treaty to prevent any steps that would lead to civil war.

The appeal to civilization can be quickly disposed of. Perhaps the Governments of England and France were of the opinion, in the time of the Civil War, that the interests of civilization required them to interpose in behalf of the South; but no American needs to be told that such intervention would have been a flagrant violation of our rights. If any nation has a right to do anything whatever in the interests of what it pleases to consider the interests of civilization, international law is at an end, and we are back again in the Middle Ages.

Strange as it may seem, there are indications that President Roosevelt regards it as a settled principle that the United States has a right arbitrarily to interfere in the affairs of the South American states whenever, in the judgment of the American Government, the interests of civilization will thereby be promoted. In a recent letter to Mr. Root read

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