I venture to suggest the following as the minimum equipment of an historical department in a university or large college. First, two or more suitable lecture-rooms, with ample blackboard space, map racks or cases, book shelves, and a lantern and screen. The rooms should be contiguous to the other rooms of the department and reserved exclusively for its uses. It is time that there were opportunity for a professor to put up a map without having to take it down again at the end of the hour. Second, a combined seminary room and library, available for study when not in use as a class-room; equipped, like the lecture-room, with adequate blackboard and map space, and housing a permanent library of duplicates reënforced by such temporary loans from the main library as are from time to time needed. Included in the furnishings of the room should be a sufficient number of small tables to accommodate each individual student, and file cases for photographs, cards, newspaper clippings, and temporary notes. For the supervision of this room, there should be provided a special attendant, preferably a trained library assistant, responsible to the librarian of the university as well as to the head of the department. Third, a room for map drawing and chart-making, with tables and instruments for draughting. Fourth, a typewriting room, supplied with machines for the use of instructors and students. Fifth, private offices or studies for the instructors. Elaborate as such a provision of apartments may well seem to the teacher who to-day, like the wandering scholar of the Middle Ages, lectures wherever he can find a vacant room, it nevertheless is smaller than that generally allowed to the chemist or physicist. Of all the evils which present-day criticism of the college has brought to light, none is more serious than the evil of waste. The history teacher who, under the conditions common to most American institutions of higher learning, should teach his subject as he would like to teach it and as he knows it ought to be taught, would spend in useless mechanical drudgery more hours than he spent in lecturing. Most institutions with endowment enough to entitle them to a place on the “Carnegie list” have ceased to expect this waste from professors of science, and there is no reason why the time of the professor of history, political science, or political economy should not be regarded as equally valuable. If under the influence of a general demand for at least the minimum of what is due, the governing authorities of all our universities could even be brought to realize that a ground plan of the city of Rome and a Rand-McNally map of North America are not a sufficient equipment for the teaching of modern history and diplomacy, one might face the future with a new hope.