little danger that we have carried the refinements of teaching to the
extreme of defeating its proper ends....A college professor of my
acquaintance was criticised by a student for carrying the ball too
much in class! No coach ever built up a winning team by carrying the
ball himself. The pupil must be active. He must carry the ball. He
must ask and answer questions. He must make as well as solve problems.
He must be in the game himself, if he is to learn to play the game. He
must be independently productive. He must learn to do things for
himself, in a way which he has adopted for himself." [Footnote: Ibid]

Children and older students, therefore, must become accustomed to
taking the initiative and doing the other work of study in class, if
they are to do these things outside.

One day when reading Hawthorne's story of The Gorgon's Head with a
fourth-year class, the writer stopped at an interesting point and
asked, "Do you ever stop to talk over what you read? Or do you always
'go on' and 'keep going on'?" "We always go right on," replied
several. "We sometimes stop," said a few, among whom was Eddie. "Very
well," said I, "let us stop here a moment to talk. What have you to
say, Eddie?" "O, _we_ don't talk; the _teacher_ does the talking,"
said he, with a most nonchalant air. What likelihood was there that
that class, after their four years of school training, would show a
fair degree of independence in their study of literature, if their
teacher were suddenly struck dumb?

It is a matter of rather frequent remark that children accustomed to
lively participation in class discussion under a skillful teacher too
often experience a disappointing relapse the moment the teacher
absents herself. The peculiar stimulus being gone, they not only fail