It is perhaps interesting at this point to see how response came from these two types of institutions. In the first instance it came from individuals in the college, which was no more than could be expected of classical colleges, which have for years laid emphasis on the benefits of individualistic training. In the second instance the vocational colleges, as they are sometimes disparagingly called, responded from the viewpoint of collectivism; that is, the college as a whole, because of its service departments, was able to offer to the state and to the nation a course of training of immediate military value to the country.
But thoughtful people can never again speak disparagingly of any university or technical school. While the movies have been filled with the citizens of our democracy, and the cafés crowded with people to whom war was something apart from existence, and the white-light gayety of the streets has been apparently undimmed, the youth of our colleges—the best youth in the world—have enlisted in Plattsburgs, joined the Naval Reserves, taken up signal-corps work, entered the research laboratory, followed their instructors into the medical corps, joined a school of aëronautics, or donned overalls in the shipyards.
Doctor Finley, Commissioner of Education of the state of New York, in an address delivered before the Illinois chapter of the Phi Beta Kappa, speaks of his visit to Oxford just before the war and of a visit to Cambridge, England, a few weeks after it had begun. At Oxford he found the calm of the cloister, with its memorials of poets, scholars, statesmen, princes, and soldiers, where there were ancient academic conventions that paid no heed to the passing customs of the world outside. Only six weeks later at Cambridge—a Cambridge which had a month or six weeks before been as Oxford—the town was filled with men in khaki. In this charming address Doctor Finley speaks of a portrait of Samuel Butler which he saw at Cambridge,—a portrait of the man who described in his book "Erewhon" a land where criminals were treated as sick, and the sick as criminals; where there were "Colleges of Unreason," colleges in which students were promoted for excellence in vagueness and were plucked for insufficient trust in printed matter, colleges where the principal courses were those in hypothetics, colleges in which mediocrity was fostered, colleges whose graduates almost invariably suffered from atrophy of individual opinions. And Doctor Finley says that as he stood before this portrait, in a hall almost deserted, he thought of those students of courses which Butler had called "hypothetical" and "atrophying," who had gone forth to prove the valor of their cloistered and unpractical learning.
The university which apparently had paid no heed to the passing customs of the world outside had now mobilized herself; and this has been true of the colleges and technical schools of our own country,—truly a mobilization of the spirit of sudden forgetting of self-concerns for a selfless service.
The college of individualism, as has already been suggested, mobilized through its individuals, while the college of service mobilized itself. In the spring of 1917 I happened to be in a Western university. The campus was practically deserted. Instructors in foreign languages had joined the government interpreters' service; some of the professors of science had gone to government research laboratories, while a chosen few were off in some secret place working under government direction in scientific research concerning submarine warfare. The older students had enlisted, and the younger ones were marching in squads on the athletic field. Truly a mobilization, but largely individualistic.
I came East to another college where more than 2000 students were devoting their time to a series of special short courses dealing with the various problems of an educational, social, and practical nature which the war had thrust upon the country. In this way the institution—Teachers College, Columbia University—had mobilized itself. Special arrangements had been made by the college authorities whereby all but a very few students could participate in these emergency courses without seriously deranging their regular courses.
In general, the aim of these emergency courses was not merely to meet those conditions which exist at or near the battle line but to help in the solution of the hundred and one urgent problems which must be solved by that great majority of teachers and social workers whose service will of necessity be given in home communities. Accordingly, courses on social relief were offered, and among others the following topics were considered: "Administration of relief in time of war and emergency," "Care of orphaned and neglected children." Under the organization of rural communities were discussed "Conserving the food supply," "The health problem of the rural community," and "The organization of school pupils for agricultural service." The matter of social service in military camps was thoroughly gone into and reports and lectures were given by men who had actually worked with the soldiers themselves. The Boy Scout and Camp Fire Girl movements were also discussed in special courses, and the practical questions of the amateur gardener were carefully considered.
In the School of Practical Arts special attention was given to the making of children's garments, the sewing of Red Cross material, and the renovating of millinery and clothing. In addition to lectures on thrift in food the department of cookery gave a course on emergency cookery for men, which was especially designed for army cooks and Boy Scout leaders. There was also a series of lectures and demonstrations by a government expert on the preservation of food, including canning and drying. Other courses considered the essentials of diet planning and of how to buy in large quantities for camps and hospitals. The departments of chemistry and biology gave special instruction in the analysis of water and of milk, and in the technique of diagnostic bacteriology. The fine-arts department made some rather unique contributions, including a study of protective coloring with reference to camouflage for military purposes, the designing of posters, and topographical sketching. There was a course on tin-can work for home and camp, in which, from discarded tomato cans and powder boxes, were produced all sorts of useful things—coffee pots, camp stoves, hot-water bottles, lanterns, and candlesticks. A special course in photography for hospital and field work was offered. In the modeling class the manipulation of plaster of Paris was demonstrated for nurses and Red Cross students, to be used in connection with occupational work for convalescent soldiers. An extremely interesting series of projects in plastic material was worked up, particularly some clay models of trenches and dugouts.
Another course which attracted some hundred and fifty students was the emergency instruction given by the physics department in automobile mechanics. The object of the instruction was to equip the average student with a stock of general information that would enable him to operate a car, to make minor repairs, and to diagnose trouble intelligently. Some of the matters discussed were the four-cycle engine, carburetion, transmission and differential, and the storage battery. For experiment and demonstration purposes the laboratory was supplied, among other apparatus, with a detachable boat motor and two automobiles. The latter were thoroughly dissected and then reassembled from spark plug to tires, and in every possible way the mechanism was examined and experimented with.
The departments of nursing and health and of physical education offered some ten courses in all, including home nursing and emergencies, surgical dressings, care of children, public-health problems, first aid, medical gymnastics, and invalid occupations.