out confounding them, and in reference to the whole of which they are parts. Four qualities are necessary to a good analysis.

1. It ought to descend only to such details, as, by their simplicity, may easily be apprehended by the mind. You may observe, for instance, that a man can distinctly embrace at a glance the number five, but he can scarcely apprehend a larger number without confusion. Now five is precisely the number of fingers on the hand. They serve as the first rudiments of numeration, and are constantly under our eyes. The number five, therefore, becomes in arithmetic the term of analytical intuition. Every class of things has its similar term to which the mind attaches itself as to a resting-point.

2. The analysis ought, to be complete, to be accurate; that is, it ought to enumerate the essential elements of things in describing them.

3. The analysis ought to be regular, that is, it ought not to pass at random from one part to another; it ought to follow the order pointed out by contiguity, by analogy, by the reciprocal action of causes, in a word by the natural connexion of things.

4. Lastly, the analysis ought to conclude, by a recomposition, which restores to life, as it were, the object thus dissected; and, just as it has pointed out the relationship the component parts have to each other, so it ought now to endeavour to discover the relations which these parts have to the whole in other words, having surveyed the circumference, it transports the mind to the centre, and reunites before our eyes the dispersed rays.

Let us exercise our pupils then on these four kinds of operations. Let them attempt them upon the most familiar objects, for analysis is, in fact, applicable to everything. We analyse in describing an object, in decomposing a phrase, and in working a sum in arithmetic.

From what has been said the utility of analytical tables will be obvious. They are, indeed, the natural instrument of analysis, and, when well executed, are characterised by the four qualities which we have ascribed to a good analysis. [Most subjects admit of being presented in this form, and the drawing up of such tables forms an exercise which is useful in ore respects than one.]

As there are objects so complex that the mind cannot at first embrace them in all their extent, so there are objects so removed that the mind cannot by a single effort reach them. Analysis, as we have just seen, overcomes the former of these difficulties, and the latter is obviated by what we shall call the progressive method, which is closely connected with the preceding. This method consists in inserting between the distant object and those which are near to us, a series of intermediate steps by which we may be enabled to pass easily from the one to the other.

The fundamental rule of the progressive method is to proceed from the known to the unknown; but by the known must be understood, in reference to the pupil, that which is already really familiar to his mind; and in proceeding from the known to the unknown we must multiply the intermediate steps in the inverse ratio of his abilities. Direct demonstration is not always the shortest course, as one might be apt to believe. It will sometimes be found more advantageous to pursue a circuitous path in order that we may the better arrive at our object. Observe how an engineer does in forming a road over a mountain, he follows the bendings that he may avoid the steepness.

Abuse is to be guarded against in the employment of methods; for the

most useful things may be abused. Let us not fatigue our pupils, nor ourselves with a superfluity of rules and details. We ought to employ every method with discretion, and only expect from it that assistance which it is calculated to afford. Nature has established a definite order and sequence in regard to the intellect, just as she has in the material world. Let us endeavour to observe this order, to assist it, to resign ourselves to its direction, and to avoid opposing it. Nature is the first, the true teacher of childhood; she has her secret laws; she accomplishes her own ends; let us not thwart her. She will often be found wiser, and always more powerful than our pedagogical directors. Above all, let us beware of trusting to purely artificial or mechanical methods.

SECTION V.

SCHOOL-DISCIPLINE.

CHAPTER I.

(1.) School-discipline, in the sense which we here use the term, is not, strictly speaking, in itself a branch of school-keeping, but is rather the result of the entire management of the school. Still, as a matter of convenience, and without any pretensions to a rigidly correct classification, we shall consider under the head discipline a number of subordinate particulars, which have reference more especially to the formation of the scholar's character. Individually, these details may seem trifling; yet it must not be forgotten that it is the united influence of such details that either makes or mars the school.

(2.) The term discipline is formed from the Latin noun disciplina (instruction), which is itself a derivative of the verb discere, to learn. The term, it is true, does not now signify learning in the ordinary sense of the word, yet there is still something of the idea of learning implied in it; and it may be affirmed that where there is bad discipline, in whatever sense the term may be understood, there there cannot be sound learning.

It is not very easy to give a satisfactory definition of the term discipline, as applied to elementary schools.

Perhaps we may say that under school-discipline is to be understood all those influences which ought to operate, on the part of the school, in creating in the pupils good and proper habits, and, of course, in guarding against their acquiring those of an opposite kind.*

"La discipline," says a French Author, " n'est pas l'art de récompenser et de punir, de faire taire et de faire parler les élèves; elle est l'art de leur faire remplir de la manière la plus convenable, la plus aisée et la plus utile, tous les devoirs de la classe."

(3.) In this sense, then, school-discipline and military-discipline are essentially different; and it would not, in itself, be any proof that the discipline of a school were really good should the pupils in it perform any number of evolutions with all the promptitude and precision of an army of well-drilled troops. When the drill-master gets his troops to perform their exercises in a manner that he thinks faultless, he considers that he has accomplished his object. But not so the judicious teacher. He regards the whole of his disciplinary arrangements and exercises as merely means to an end, namely, as instruments for the formation of the scholar's character.

(4.) If, then, to discipline there belongs anything like the importance here ascribed to it, it is quite clear that in the management of a school it ought not to be left to mere haphazard, but ought to be duly provided for. And this remark is especially applicable to schools for the children of the poor, who, it is to be feared, are in their homes too often surrounded by influences adverse, rather than otherwise, to the growth of those habits upon which much of their future well-being must depend.

(5.) How, then, is this healthful tone of discipline to be created and preserved in the school?

"The principles that will enable a master to govern his boys," says Bishop Short, "are precisely the same as those which will produce the same effect in any other station of authority in which a human being can be placed. From this view of the matter it follows, that in discipline, not less than in the matter of direct instruction, everything depends upon the master.”

(6.) The first step in the disciplinary process is to obtain perfect mastery over the pupils. Without this the Teacher can

effect nothing.

It is the opinion of Locke that the submission of the child ought to be based upon a peculiar feeling of awe or respect which he ought to feel towards his parent or teacher: and that this awe ought to be engendered in the mind of the child when quite young by suitable rigour, which is to be gradually relaxed as he becomes older.

Where this principle has been faithfully and steadily acted upon in the family, the management of the children in school is attended with little or no difficulty. But such cases among the poor are, unfortunately, the exception and not the rule.

(7.) We may at once state our conviction that sound discipline must, and ought to be, based upon the supreme authority of the master. He must, in the strictest sense, be an autocrat. While, however, he is perfectly satisfied within himself as to the nature and extent of his sway, he will studiously endeavour to avoid rather than create occasions for the exhibition of his power. He will, in short, be anxious to give to his whole government a paternal rather than a despotic character. He will always act towards his scholars in a friendly, open, and straightforward manner, and will thus acquire their respect and confidence. He will, on every proper occasion, show his affection for them, and so practically convince them that in all his disciplinary arrangements, and in his entire conduct, it is their best interests that he has in view, and not the gratification of any merely personal or capricious feeling on his own part.

(8.) Where there exists a wholesome and effective discipline, it will evince itself in the entire conduct of the pupils towards their teacher. But in nothing more than in the ready and cheerful obedience they will render to all his commands, and the desire that they will show to comply with, and even anticipate, his wishes in all matters relating to their school business.

(9.) For the preservation of authority, when once acquired, various maxims have been framed; but the value of such maxims must depend mainly upon the spirit and skill with which they are reduced to practice.

(i.) Never give a command which you do not intend shall be

obeyed.

This is an important rule, and one which admits of no exceptions. The non-observance of it is not merely an isolated error in the matter of discipline. On the contrary, it operates powerfully in engendering in the pupils habits of the very worst kind.

This fact has been graphically illustrated by an extreme instance recorded by Mr. Abbott, in one of his little books.

"I was once," says a gentleman, "when riding in the country, overtaken by a shower, and compelled to seek shelter in a farm-house. Half a dozen rude and ungovernable boys were racing about the room in such an uproar as to prevent the possibility of conversation with the father, who was sitting