for example, may be punished by the consequent missing of some pleasure; carelessness by having to search for something or put something away at an unpleasant time; thoughtlessness by not being entrusted with some acceptable privilege requiring thought, and so on. But moral offences should be punished, if possible, morally; and the best moral punishment for a young child is the moral shock and pain felt by the parents and communicated from them to him.

Indeed, in one sense, this is the punishment most "natural." In the world, lying may be punishable by the rough methods of the world, such as lasting disgrace, disbelief, and physical pain or inconvenience; but what is natural in the world is not natural from a father or mother. In most cases the child's sense of the grief he has caused to those whom he respects, his feeling of their disapproval, and the consequent cessation, even though it be but for a day, of the fun and free delights of his ordinary life, will suffice, without any severe and prolonged punishment. If that does not suffice, there should be a resort to "the last resources of a parent," physical punishment. Flogging does not spring naturally out of lying; but in spite of any philosophic dicta to the contrary, there is more hope of curing a boy of lying by flogging him, than by distrusting him, for days together, as a liar.

It is a common saying that "you must not punish when you are in a passion." But what is meant by being "in a passion"? If it is meant that you are not, at the moment of punishing, to retain any sense of personal vindictiveness, that is undoubtedly true, but inadequate. The feeling of vindictiveness ought not to need banishing; it ought never to have been present. If, on the other hand, it is meant that you are to wait till your repugnance to dishonesty, or to deceit, or to cruelty has died away, the answer is that this feeling-which may be called resentment, as distinguished from vindictiveness-ought never to die away. Resentment is the salt of punishment, which otherwise degenerates into the mere infliction of pain for the prevention of inconveni

ence.

Further, let it be remembered that punishment, if fit, is effective in proportion as it is certain and speedy. It ought not, therefore, to be delayed by one who is conscious of being wholly free from personal irritation any longer than is necessary to investigate the truth of the charge and select the fittest penalty.

Parents must not attempt to teach their children as a mere pastime for themselves, or as an occasional and irregular occupation.

Irregularity causes children not only to forget or drop the thread of a subject, but also to anticipate the possibility that "the lesson may not be heard "; and a very small amount of such anticipation discourages a studious child from putting forth his best efforts, and encourages a lazy one to neglect work on the chance that he may not be detected.

A certain amount of regular irregularity, however, will do no harm. I have heard of a very successful school for young boys where it is the regular custom to have short hours for work on fine days and longer hours in wet weather; and under judicious supervision and a firm control it is possible that such a system may work well. Certainly, for the very young, books should be put away almost entirely during the outof-door time of the year, not to be opened till the shortening days once more suggest in-door pursuits.

But such irregularity as this is hardly to be called irregularity; it is part of a system, and probably a better, though less simple system than that which would prescribe uniform hours for work all through the year. The irregularity that is to be avoided is that which springs from the engagements, distractions, or caprices of parents. This is an unmixed evil, so far as the child is concerned; for he soon perceives that there is no sort of system in the cessations of his work, and that they spring from causes out of his sphere of vision, which may at any time recur; and the feeling that at any time, and for no apparent reason, his studies may be stopped, unsettles, and, if I may so say, unsteadies a young mind.

Second-rate regular teaching is better for the very young than firstrate teaching, if the latter be very irregular. Parents whose occupations do not allow them to give regular instruction may with advantage test their children's progress from time to time; and they may in some cases throw light on special difficulties in their children's work; but, if they cannot teach regularly, they should not assume the sole responsibility of teaching them.

The general fault of home training is that it encourages inexactness and slovenliness. Being in close sympathy with the children, both parents and private tutors are apt to "understand what they mean," and to give them credit for meaning what is right, when what they have actually said or written is wrong. Never let a parent or private tutor give a child "the benefit of the doubt" in matters intellectual.

It also frequently happens that, having formed a somewhat too high conception of their pupil's mental ability, they do not like to make him go through the drudgery which is sometimes necessary to produce exactness. "Personally," writes Preceptor, "I believe I owe my inaccuracy as a mathematician (besides a general inexactness of mind in matters of detail) to the too kind indulgence of a private tutor who taught me Arithmetic. Not only did he yield to my importunities when I told him that I was sure I could never find out where my Long Division sum was wrong, but even when he had pointed out my error, he would never insist on my doing the sum again. I liked him very much at the time; but I bitterly dislike the results of his kindness now."

In a school, boys are more likely to be cured of little inexactnesses and eccentricities, because their work is constantly inspected along with that of other boys, and judged impartially by the same standard; but in a household this standard is absent, and must be supplied by the parents or tutors unaided. Let it be, therefore, taken as a motto for home training that the teacher is to be "careful about small things." Parents, even more than class-teachers, must set their faces against the common excuse of careless children, "It was only a slip, I knew better."

21. ADAPTATION AND VARIATION.

Yet regularity and exactness in home teaching are not inconsistent with some variation of lessons, adapting them to the special needs and stages of the pupil's development, Lessons cannot be thus flexibly adapted in class-teaching, because what may suit one pupil may not suit another. In a school it is necessary for a class-teacher to consult the interests of the greatest number, slightly sacrificing the very dull, and still more the very clever, for the sake of the commonplace majority, and endeavoring to compensate the two extremes by a little extra attention out of class. But it is one of the greatest advantages of home teaching that both the clever and the dull, and the different stages of progress in the clever and the dull can be specially considered, and the teaching correspondingly adjusted.

1. Sometimes when a child is approaching a critical point in a study, manifesting a great interest in it, and making rapid progress, it is well to take advantage of this tide and to increase considerably the amount of time given to that study, at the expense of others, so as to float the child over the obstacle which but for this effort might else have kept him for some time stranded and stationary.

2. When a child is growing dispirited and discouraged with the feeling that he is making no way in some study, and is perhaps falling into the habit of doing his work in an inferior manner, it is well to drop that study altogether for a time, returning to it after he has had time to forget his discouragement and to break himself from his bad habits.

But in such a case the teacher must take great care that the child shall not feel that he is desisting because of failure. With a little tact, this can easily be arranged. The child's last lesson can be made so easy or can be so carefully explained, that it shall be in some sense a success, at least as compared with previous lessons; and after he has been praised, so far as he honestly can be, for at last overcoming his difficulties, the teacher may announce his intention of putting by the book for a time.

3. When the child returns to the subject, the teacher must use all possible art to make the first few lessons completely successful. By dividing the subject into very small parts, by careful and constant revisions, by conversations familiarly eliciting the child's difficulties and preparing the way for overcoming future difficulties, the teacher may, and indeed must, force the child to know his first lesson, so that he may make a fresh and more hopeful start.

4. Here a caution may be useful. The teacher must never make any, even the slightest variation of lessons in answer to a pupil's request. To do this would be to shake the child's confidence in his teachers, making him uneasy, unsettled, self-introspective, and conceited. Should the child, therefore, make any such request, he must be refused with some abruptness, and be taught not to repeat it. None the less, the teacher should make mental note of the pupil's state of mind, and accept it as a proof that things are not going satisfactorily, and that some change must be soon made.

But if a child who has been long under our training expresses a desire for a change, we ourselves must be somewhat in fault. For we ought to have ascertained the pupil's flagging interest from its natural signs, without waiting till it was expressed in definite words. Out of school hours, too, while talking to the child, not as master, but as friend, a tutor may easily find out the childish likes and dislikes, troubles, difficulties, and successes. And of course these opportunities are still more accessible to parents.

5. As the child should occasionally have easier tasks, to inspire him with hopefulness and self-reliance, so should he occasionally have more difficult tasks, to test and invigorate his powers, and to put him on his mettle.

22. THE TRANSITION FROM PLAY TO WORK.

Almost all children learn for some time, not as a work, but as a pleasure. It must be left to the teacher's discretion to decide when he should first mention the words "work" and "lessons," and how long he should continue to treat learning as an amusement to his pupils.

Much will depend upon their age and temperament. If they are old, and not very docile, "work" will have to be brought to the front, and clearly distinguished from play, that they may no longer delay to form habits of obedient and regular industry, and may learn to bend

before they grow too stiff. It is not well with such natures to defer long the awkward and critical transition which takes place when the pupil has to be told plainly that the occupation which he has been hitherto pursuing as an optional amusement, he must now pursue as a compulsory task.

On the other hand, for young, docile, and lively pupils, the gain is great if learning remains, as long as possible, a pleasure and a privilege. Progress is thus far more rapid, and the child acquires one of the most valuable of habits-the love of knowledge.

This transition may be smoothed by a little preparatory conversation in which the dignity of "school" is held out as a prospect for the boy when he grows a little older; some children may also be influenced by being told that, if they work, they will be able to help their parents, and to be of use to their brothers and sisters; and the power derived from certain kinds of knowledge may be illustrated by stories which may afford a useful stimulus. But, in most cases, the knowledge that his parents and elders have to work, and that work of some kind is expected from every grown-up person worthy of respect, will be sufficient, when combined with the love of approbation, to make any child tolerate patiently, or even accept with some degree of pride the necessary irksomeness of work.

For let this be distinctly understood by the teacher, and let him, when the time comes, not fail to make his pupils also understand, that work must be at times irksome. Mental, like bodily labor, must sometimes task and strain the powers, though it should never overstrain them. The intellect is like the body in requiring the alternation between wholesome strain and wholesome relaxation, if it is to become healthy and robust.

Before beginning to teach any subject, the teacher should endeavor to excite the pupil's interest by conversations and stories illustrating the utility of it. Reading is, nowadays, so obvious a necessity that stimulus in this study is less needed than in others. Otherwise it would be easy to multiply stories about savages who have so marveled at a "speaking paper" that they have worshiped it as a god; or about boys and men who, in modern times, have been helped by ability, or harmed by inability, to read.

Similarly, as a preparation for Arithmetic, stories may be found, such as the well-known one in Sandford and Merton, about the horsedealer who offered to take for his horse (since the rich gentleman objected to the price) one farthing for the first nail in the horse's shoe, two farthings for the second, four for the third, eight for the fourth, and so on, doubling the number every time, there being only twentyfour nails in all; and how the gentleman willingly assented to this arrangement, till he found that he had pledged himself to pay more