Latin unnecessary
the thunder of our guns outside the town and the hasty flight of the last remnants of Turkish soldiery. Jerusalem woke to a welcome dawn when the British general entered the town to take its surrender. His progress was moving and pathetic.
At the breakup ceremony, Mr T. D. Pearce, rector of the Southland Boys’ High School, while congratulating the Minister on recent reforms, mentioned one or two others that were desirable. In 1918, said Mr Pearce, there would come into operation, in connection with the Junior University Scholarship examination, a new scale of marks, whereby for the first time Latin was placed on an equality with — instead of a superiority to — English. That was a splendid reform, and he welcomed it. But the reform should not end there. Already Latin was not compulsory for Matriculation or B.A. Next year it would not be compulsory for the University
Scholarship. Still, a boy could not at present become a doctor, a dentist, or a lawyer without Latin. The speaker had asked old boys of his school who had taken up those professions whether Latin had been absolutely essential to them after they had matriculated. They had answered, ‘‘No’’.
London Daily
thought, is the most thoroughly and unvarying English type I have ever seen, and it comes from the remotest habitable spot on the glove. If ever the war ends, and I have £200 to spare (which is extremely unlikely), I’ll spend it on a visit to the land that is raising these cleanlimbed, civilised, gallantfeatured, young Englishmen on the other side of the world.’’