have been assured by a learned musician, that in the 17th century reading
music was as much a sign of culture as reading a book. There was
recently an excellent letter in the _Times_ {82} on public school music,
pleading that boys should be allowed to drop, let us say greek iambics,
and devote the time to serious musical study. The writer describes how
at a certain school a good professional orchestra gives a concert once in
each term, for which the boys are prepared by having the themes of the
movements, _e.g._ of a Beethoven symphony, played over to them on the
piano and expounded. He describes how an athletic boy, a member of the
football team, declared, when the concert was over, that there was
nothing to live for during the rest of the half, apparently not even
football. No wonder that the writer of this letter should respectfully
deride a former Head Master of Eton for his approval of choral singing,
on account of its "moral and political value."

I have always felt that the best teaching I received was in two practical
matters, viz., how to play the flute, and how to use a microscope. It
may be said that these were subjects in which I took a natural and
spontaneous interest, and were therefore easily taught. This is no doubt
partly true, but I do not think it depended on any special attraction for
music or microscopy, but on something wider--on the novelty of being
taught to do something physical, something with one's hands and ears and
eyes. I am sure boys ought to have more practical teaching--not
necessarily in science, but such things as mild carpentering, the tying
of knots, and such exercise in rough weighing and measuring as would form
a basis for a little elementary physics. The same is true of girls, and
in one way they need handiwork more than boys. I found, in my Cambridge
class of practical plant-physiology, that the girls had not such 'deft
fingers' as their brothers; I believe the difference is largely due to
the boys having played with string and knives, etc., for many idle hours.
Both boys and girls must be taught to use, not only their hands, but
their eyes. It seems to me piteous that when I was at school there was
absolutely nothing done to keep alive the natural sharp-eyedness of
children. I remember vividly the intense pleasure which my father gave
me (a very small boy) by showing surprise at my knowledge of common trees
and shrubs in a winter coppice. I am sure that school did muc