The piece-wage plan never goes into effect in set form， or has not hitherto done so， -- although there are schools of nominally university grade in which there is a recognized and avowed endeavour so to apportion the weekly hours of class-room exercises to the pay of the teachers as to bring the pay per class-hour per semester to a passably uniform level for the general body of the staff. That the piece-wage plan has so little avowed vogue in the academic wage scheme may at first sight seem strange； the body of academic employees are as defenceless and unorganized as any class of the wage-earning population， and it is among the unorganized and helpless that the piece-wage plan is commonly applied with the best effect； at the same time the system of scholastic accountancy， worked out for other purposes and already applied both to instructors， to courses of instruction， and to divisions of the school year， has already reduced all the relevant items to such standard units and thorough equivalence as should make a system of piece-wages almost a matter of course. That it has not formally been put in practice appears to be due to tradition， and to that long-term common sense appreciation of the nature of learning that will always balk at rating this work as a frankly materialistic and pecuniary occupation. The academic personnel， e. g.， are unable to rid themselves of a fastidious -- perhaps squeamish --persuasion that they are engaged in this work not wholly for pecuniary returns； and the community at large are obscurely， but irretrievably and irresponsibly， in the same suspicious frame of mind on that head. The same unadvised and unformulated persuasion that academic salaries are after all not honestly to be rated as wages， is doubtless accountable for certain other features of academic management touching the pay-roll； notably the failure of the employees to organize anything like a trades-union， or to fall into line on any workable basis of solidarity on such an issue as a wage-bargain， as also the equivocal footing on which the matter of appointments and removals is still allowed to stand； hence also the unsettled ethics of the trade in this respect.
For divers reasons， but mainly reasons of competitive statistics， which resolve themselves， again， in the main into reasons of expedient publicity， it is desired that the enrolment should be very large and should always and unremittingly increase， -- due regard being always had， of course， to the eminent desirability of drawing into the enrolment many students from the higher levels of gentility and pecuniary merit. To this end it is well， as has already been remarked above， to announce a very full schedule of instruction and a free range of elective alternatives， and also to promote a complete and varied line of scholastic accessories， in the way of athletics， clubs， fraternities， "student activities，" and similar devices of politely blameless dissipation.
These accessories of college life have been strongly on the increase since the business r間ime has come in. They are held to be indispensable， or unavoidable； not for scholarly work， of course， but chiefly to encourage the attendance of that decorative contingent who take more kindly to sports， invidious intrigue and social amenities than to scholarly pursuits.
Notoriously， this contingent is， on the whole， a serious drawback to the cause of learning， but it adds appreciably， and adds a highly valued contribution， to the number enrolled； and it gives also a certain， highly appreciated， loud tone ("college spirit")to the student body； and so it is felt to benefit the corporation of learning by drawing public attention. Corporate means expended in provision for these academic accessories -- "side shows，" as certain ill-disposed critics have sometimes called them -- are commonly felt to be well spent. Persons who are not intimately familiar with American college life have little appreciation of the grave solicitude given to these matters.
During some considerable number of years past， while the undergraduate enrolment at the universities has been increasing rapidly， the attitude of the authorities has progressively been undergoing a notable change touching these matters of extra-scholastic amenity. It is in great measure a continuation of changes that have visibly been going forward in the older universities of the country for a longer period， and it is organically bound up with the general shifting of ground that marks the incursion of business principles.
While the authorities have turned their attention primarily to the undergraduate division and its numerical increase， they have at the same time， and largely with the same end in view， endeavoured to give it more of the character of a "gentleman's college"， that is to say， an establishment for the cultivation of the graces of gentility and a suitable place of residence for young men of spendthrift habits. The improvement sought in these endeavours is not so much the increase and acceleration of scholarly pursuits， as a furthering of "social" proficiency. A"gentleman's college" is an establishment in which scholarship is advisedly made subordinate to genteel dissipation， to a grounding in those methods of conspicuous consumption that should engage the thought and energies of a well-to-do man of the world. Such an ideal， more or less overtly， appears to be gaining ground among the larger universities； and， needless to say， it is therefore also gaining， by force of precedent and imitation， among the younger schools engaged in more of a struggle to achieve a secure footing of respectability.
