powers of mind granted him plus the activities through which it has gone, what ever may have been the agents in producing these activities.

This point, then, we think, must be set down as settled, that law reigns in the phenomena of mind. There is the further question, Have these laws been ascertained? Now, we allow at once that all the laws have not been ascertained; but this is merely saying that the science has not reached perfection. It would be rash to say that any science has arrived at this stage. But if we can assert that one single law has been discovered, we have done enough to show that a foundation for the science has been laid; and we can scarcely believe that any one will go so far as to contradict such an assertion. Our common psychological text books are barren enough in the exhibition of laws of activities, but still they do contain some. The generalisation, for instance, with regard to perception proper and sensation proper, that they are always found in an inverse ratio to each other in the degree or intensity of their existence, is a law that regulates the activities of the mind. And when psychology enables us to determine what it is which produces the intensity of the sensation and of the perception, we obtain the means of acting in a powerful manner on the minds of others. This the new psychology of Beneke does. Again, the laws of associ stion, though in the common psychology they are mixed up with inoperative generalisations, are, in the main, laws of the mind's activity. We have such laws scattered over most treatises on psychology. We have them brought out more prominently in the writings of Locke, and in those of the Scotch school, especially Dugald Stewart; in the French school, who have worked out the Scotch; and still more fully and satisfactorily in the more recent works of Bain and Spencer, of Morell, and of Fortlage, Fichte, and other of the Germans, who are endeavoring to establish an anthropological psychology. But all these schools occupy themselves with subjects of discussion which are purely metaphysical; and it is only in the works of Beneke and his followers that metaphysical questions and inoperative generalisations are entirely discarded, except in so far as psychology has to account for the rise of such generalisations in the mind. And we wish to draw attention to the fact, that the effort to render psychology an exposition of the laws which regulate the activities of the mind, and not of the mere generalisations of its products, was occasioned by a desire to make these laws operative in education. It was principally the interest which Herbart felt in education that led him to his psychological investigations; and Beneke's labors had their direction given both by the successes and the failures of Herbart's system. It is also principally in educational works that one will find the facts, and many of the laws, which ought to have their place in a scientific exposition of the phenomena of mind.

Either education, as an art, attempts its work at haphazard, or it attempts it with a knowledge of the adaptability of the means to the end. Now it is plain that education ought not to be a mere groping in the dark, a mere matter of chance. And if it is not, it cannot accomplish its end, unless that end be definitely known. And that end cannot be known but by an investigation into the activities and capabilities of the mind. Nor can it find suitable means to its end unless it know what effect the agents which act on the mind will producc. Both the nature of the person to be educated, and the power of the means used to affect that nature in a particular way, must be clearly ascertained.

All this will be allowed by some, and yet a negative answer given to our question. "It is true," they will say, "that the teacher should know human nature in the concrete, but it is questionable whether he should study the science of the

phenomena of mind. For a great number of the best teachers never troubled themselves about the phenomena of human nature, and never read a treatise on psychology; but, guided by their instinct and their tact, did the right thing at the right time, and made men of their pupils. Nay, we are not sure but a scientific knowledge of the phenomena of the human mind may render a teacher less effective in his work than he would have been without the knowledge."

There is some show of truth in these objections. There is no doubt that the man who devotes himself to the investigation of mental law assumes for the time a state of mind adverse to successful teaching. The man who tries to discover new laws, fixes his eye on the similarities which present themselves in certain activities of the mind, and refuses to observe for the time the differences. And then after he has attained to the knowledge of the law for which he is seeking, his interest in the individual phenomena is apt to cease, and he contents himself with the general formula. It is the business of the teacher, on the other hand, to keep all the individual phenomena distinctly before his eye. In his action on his pupil, he must leave none of the peculiarities out of sight. He has to deal with a complicated series of individual phenomena, widely differing from each other. And therefore his state of mind is quite different from that of the man who is in search of mental laws. We allow this. But we assert, at the same time, that there is nothing irreconcilable in the two states. The psychological law in the matter is, that if the teacher consciously produce in his mind both states with equal intensity, he will be equally expert in both. If he practises himself in turning from the one state to the other, he will become expert in the operation. And he may thus be able to conjoin both modes of thought, without the one interfering with the other. At the same time, he is not called in a special manner to join both. He is supposed at particular times to have studied the phenomena and laws of mind. These laws are in his mind, ready to be summoned to the explanation of peculiar appearances in his pupils, so as to direct him in dealing with them. It is his business in his classroom to take all the features of a case into view; and psychology will give its aid, after he has made this particular examination, in explaining each individual peculiarity, and showing how it is to be treated. He will leave the discovery of laws to another place and time, unless these laws actually force themselves on him, as they sometimes do. His main object will be to apply the laws that have been discovered.

Again, we allow that there have been many good teachers who have known nothing of the science of education, as it is given by philosophical writers. But when we analyze the tact which directs them, we find it to be a kind of undeveloped knowledge of the laws of mind-a knowledge which the educator possesses, but to which, from its appearing in a state of weakened consciousness, he cannot give expression. An instance will explain what we mean. A teacher resolves to do his utmost to interest every member of his class. This desire grows in intensity, as the desire is repeated day after day, and we may therefore reckon it as a powerful motive. To fulfil this desire, he watches each individual pupil, and when the interest of any pupil flags, he does the very thing that will attract that pupil. His course of conduct in the various cases will be different, according to circumstances; but the one object he has in all is to interest them, and what he cares about especially is that he succeed in interesting them. After he has succeeded, and his work is over, we go to him and ask how he has contrived to attract the attention of pupils so different from each other. He cannot tell. Nay,

very likely, he cannot give an accurate account of what efforts he made to in ́erest each pupil, as he saw him flag. Why? Because the intensity of the desire, which in all cases was one and the same, darkened or diminished his consciousness of the various means which he employed for the purpose, and the processes of thought through which his mind went to determine these means. But there can scarcely be a doubt that his mind did go through processes; and if we could bring these processes into clear consciousness, we should find that he had determined his conduct according to the fixed laws of mind which he had at some time or other observed, though he had not definitely noted them down as such. But his tact may sometimes fail him; and what is he to do then? Moreover, he cannot communicate his tact to another. For both reasons, it would be of advantage to him to possess a scientific knowledge of the mind, and his tact would then become the deliberate and fully conscious application of means to an end.

A knowledge of the science of education is then, we believe, of great use to the educator. We shall point out three of its uses.

First, A knowledge of the science of education can direct us as to the right methods of education. It discusses the aims and ends of education, and the means to be employed for accomplishing the ends. It inquires into the nature of the being to be educated, into the subjects of study by means of which he is to be educated, and into the qualifications requisite in him who undertakes the duty of educating. A good method can be the result only of a careful delibera tion on all these points. The science of education within these last fifty years has received a great deal of attention; and what has been the consequence? A mighty revolution has by degrees taken place in our modes of teaching, and is still taking place. Look how differently infants are now treated from what they were fifty years ago; how the weakness of their power of attention is taken into account; how their pure sensuousness is continually appealed to, and how every effort is made to help them to take in knowledge with pleasure, instead of its being crammed into them with a rod! And this change is the result of a study of the mind of the infant. We are adapting our modes to nature. Great changes have taken place also in our methods of teaching geography, modern and ancient languages, and in almost every department. True it is that, in multitudes of schools, the most perverse methods are still to be seen in use; but as a knowledge of the science of mind becomes general among our teachers, these perverse methods will vanish entirely. And we may expect that, as the science of education becomes more and more studied, improvements will take place even in schools where already vast improvements have been introduced. Take, for instance, the law that the human being must make his intuitions in sufficient numbers and accuracy before he can have representations; and that he must do the same with his representations before he can make his abstractions. This law is capable of endless application, in geography, in history, in mathematics, in theology; and though the law is partially recognized, yet we meet everywhere with departures from it. We have heard of teachers who taught geography without maps. It is no uncommon thing to introduce the child to a map of the world before he has the slighest conception of the size of his own county. Again, we see children receiving prizes for making long chronological tables of events and dates, as if that were history, before they had foundations in experience to help them to realize the events which they so painfully record, or the length of the periods which their figures indicate. And worst of all, children are compelled to commit to memory abstract theological

propositions before they have the power of abstraction at all, or before they have felt the majesty of the Divine presence, the tenderness of the Divine mercy, and the peace that comes from confidence in God. Now all these, and many other, mistakes would be avoided, if our teachers had to undertake a complete study of the laws of the development of our nature. The science of education is still, comparatively speaking, in its infancy; and we cannot predict what pos sible discoveries may be made. There is nowhere such an amount of change presented in phenomena as in those of the mind. The infant cannot distinguish at first one object from another; he cannot speak, he cannot will; he looks like a purely sensuous animal. Yet he emerges from this state into a consciousness of the outer world, into a consciousness of himself. Scientific psychology has endeavored to ascertain the steps by which the child passes from the unconscious to the conscious state; and in this investigation has laid open the principal laws of consciousness. Through them we know how to bring what lies unconsciously in the mind to a state of consciousness. It then traces the gradual appearance in the mind of representations and reasonings, of æsthetic and religious thought and feeling, the formation of groups of desires, the excitement of feelings and groups of feelings. When practical educators come to survey their work with a knowledge of the laws which have thus been discovered, we may confidently look forward to the time when greater improvements shall take place in our educational methods than any that have hitherto been suggested. "Behind education," says Kant in his ‘Pädagogik,' “lies the secret of the perfection of human nature. From the present time onward this can take place. For now for the first time do we begin to judge rightly, and see clearly what especially belongs to a good education. It is delightful to lay before ourselves the thought that human nature will ever be better developed through education, and that education will be brought into a form adapted to humanity. This opens up to us the prospect of a happier race of men in the future."

Secondly, A study of the science of education will enable us to estimate the value of the various subjects of instruction in an educational point of view. There is nothing to which men are more prone than one-sidedness; but onesidedness in education is often a fatal mistake. There is indeed great difficulty in apprising the educational power of the various subjects which are to be taught. For the activities of the human mind are the most complex of all activities. To render representation possible, in some cases thousands of intuitions have to be made, and intuitions blend with intuitions, representations with representations, desires with desires, and feelings with feelings, in such a complex way that analysis seems almost impossible. Yet there is no reason for despair. The phenomena are within reach. And if we patiently observe, we may be able to set down the educative power of any subject of study. Scientific psychology has attempted to do this, and, we think, with considerable success. And the success will be greater and more certain in proportion to the accuracy of future observers. How valuable this analysis is we may feel in some measure when we see men of great literary power, who have not studied the science of education in all its ramifications, differ on the most ordinary subjects. Recently three of our Quarterly Reviews have discussed the question of Classical Education. Not one of them could determine what place classics should hold in education. Two of them had no distinct idea what the education of the nine teenth century should be, and the one that proposed a change set forth a plan which violates some fundamental laws of mind. We maintain that this uncer

tainty does not exist; that observation and a study of the laws of mind furnish us with ample means for determining what should be the right system of educa tion; and that, if the science of education were better known and more studied, we should attain to something approaching unanimity of opinion.

Thirdly, As a corollary to the preceding, but a very important one, the study of the science of education enables us to calculate results, and is often the only means we have for so doing. A teacher, for instance, exerts a constant educational influence for four or five years on a pupil; but as soon as the pupil's education is over he disappears, and the teacher hears nothing, or next to nothing, of him for long periods. It is impossible for the teacher in such circumstances to trace the results of his exertions. Then education is effected not by one or two great efforts, but by myriads of repeated efforts, and the results do not show themselves immediately, but often long after the pupils have gone into the pursuits of active life. Examinations indeed may test to what extent the pupil has retained the knowledge that was put into him; but this knowledge is, of all kinds of knowledge, least productive of true manhood. Though we may measure the reproductive power of the pupil to some extent, there is no gauge that can measure his productive power, his self-activity, his capability to think for himself, his intellectual individuality; and all these are the highest aims of an intellectual education. Again, there is no method of determining how far a teacher has been successful in instilling into his pupils a love of truth for its own sake, conscientiousness, courage, and a love of God and man. These in this world receive no special marks of distinction. They are not necessarily crowned by wealth, or fame, or honors. The man may pass to his grave pos sessed of the noblest qualities, and having received the very best education, without the fact being known but to a few intimate acquaintances. Again, if a pupil turn out well, it is absurd to attribute his success to his teacher alone, as if his teacher could be the only cause. There are, as we have seen, thousands of influences acting on and developing in some direction the mind of every man; and even at the very time during which the teacher is exerting his influence, it would be impossible always to observe the effect of that influence in a given case. How much more complicated does the calculation become at a future stage! The boy who has been acted upon by the teacher in the way best calculated to bring out all his powers in the noblest way may turn out a wreck, a victim to the lowest vices; and the boy who would have been corrupted, if his teacher could have done it, may turn out upright, honest, brave, and intelligent. We have chosen extreme cases, but they are possible, for the influences acting on a boy's mind from other quarters may entirely overbalance the influence of the teacher. How then are teachers to calculate the result? By the careful observation of individual cases, by a careful consideration of what result each process of instruction or action is calculated to produce, we may determine definitely what ought to be the result of each mode of action and instruction. The total result of a teacher's exertions will be the accumulated results of all the individual exertions; and if he can thus determine in each case, he will feel assured that, as far as his exertions have gone, they have acted in really educating the boy. Now the science of education can, by a most careful analysis, come to something like an accurate determination of the effect which a particular activity may produce. Its special work is to record cause and effect. The continued observations of scientific psychologists have determined certain fixed sequences, and will determine more of these sequences; and the teacher,