methods and the inventing of happy devices, on the basis of sound pedagogical principles, is one of the most difficult things which the teacher is called on to do; and many persons who think and speak lightly of methods" and "devices," and who maintain that every teacher must invent his own, would be at their wits' ends if they themselves were placed in a position in which they would be compelled to suggest methods and devices to others. The blind imitation of the methods and devices of others is of course the lowest kind of educational work and deserves all the contempt which it receives; but the development of methods and devices from a sound psychology and pedagogy, is neither easy nor unimportant. This study must be supplemented by actual experiment in the way of practice teaching in the school room. That there should ever have been made any attempt at normal school education withcut a school of observation and practice, would be one of the curiosities in education, were it not for the fact that we made the same mistake in other departments, such as attempting to teach science without laboratories and medicine without hospitals. It is impossible to study pedagogies with much profit without having access to some school where the application of its principles can be witnessed and practiced. Schools of pedagogy in connection with our colleges will probably never be able to gain the confidence and hearty support which they ought to have, until they supplement their work by the establishment of model or practice schools in which the student may observe actual teaching of a high order in all grades from the kindergarten to the high school, and may himself acquire skill in teaching by actual practice under the eye of a competent critic. That one of these schools of pedagogy has already in contemplation the establishment of such a practice department, is one of the most promising things for pedagogics in this country. In colleges, the study of pedagogies ought to include a wide comparative study of contemporary systems of education in different countries, but it is a question whether such study ought to have any place in a normal school which fits for the most part teachers for the primary and grammar schools who will never, in large numbers, be called on to direct school work on a scale on which such knowledge will be practically available. It is, moreover, a phase of educational work which can be most effectively and most profitably studied by later reading and by travel.

What place ought the history of education to hold in a course in pedagogics? It seems to me in a normal school course including

not more than one year of strictly professional study, but little time should be devoted to the history of education. The substance of such a book as Quick's "Educational Reformers" ought to be the maximum, and less need not be especially deplored. It is the one subject on which teachers can afterwards inform themselves by reading. To omit the thorough study of applied psychology and of methods of teaching for a smattering of the history of education in a normal school, is certainly a serious mistake.

In a more extensive course in a college, when students have the necessary historical knowledge to study the subject in the light of historic forces and movements, the history of education may profitably occupy a large share of time. It furnishes a background of knowledge with which present educational problems can be viewed in a broader light than would otherwise be possible, and serves to enable the teacher to discriminate the more readily between right tendencies and wrong tendencies in modern educational thought. But as the history of medicine is subordinated in medical schools to the actual study of modern medical science, so the history of education ought always to be subordinated to the actual study of modern educational thought and practice. The traditional distinction between an historical science and a natural science does not invalidate, in my judgment, the analogy here drawn.

HOW HOME AND SCHOOL HELP OR HINDER

THE

EACH OTHER.

WILLIAM M. THAYER, FRANKLIN.

HE best part of education is that which money cannot purchase. It is found in the first school which a child attends, home. It is provided by his first teachers-parents. It is made compulsory by its author-God. This school "always keeps," and never changes teachers but for one cause-death. It has no holidays, and Sunday is meant for its best day of all. Its lessons are practical and fundamental, destined to outlast life itself: they relate to the body, mind and soul. The poor have the same opportunities as the rich in this school. All may form habits and estab lish principles here that "cannot be gotten for gold, neither can silver be weighed for the price thereof." The character of manhood and womanhood is determined here.

Society, the Church,

and State receive the impress of this first school of life. "It antedates and underlies all other organisms, is the oldest human society, the mother and nurse of the church, the strong foundation on which rests the State, and the teacher and model of government."

There ought to be complete harmony between home and school and therefore mutual helpfulness. One should directly promote the interests of the other. Necessarily they must influence each other. Their interaction ought to be beneficial to both, and it would be if both were conducted according to the divine plan. Instead of this, however, one often interferes with the true mission of the other. Home furnishes bad boys and girls to disturb and destroy the highest function of school; and the latter often half does the work it is pledged to perform, or, perhaps does not do it at all. Thus the good influence of both is perverted or circumscribed, and society suffers a loss that cannot be estimated.

Home and school become mutually helpful by requiring and cultivating obedience. Disobedience at home does not tend to obedience at school; neither does loose government in school increase the spirit of obedience at home. Children, also, who learn from parental lips that strict conformity to the rules of school is indispensable, enter it with self-respect and reverence for teachers, such as never appear where instructors are objects of suspicion or antagonism by parents. On the other hand, pupils who receive no higher conceptions of home by attendance at school-no lessons that magnify the mission of parents and the filial duties of children-do not become more obedient sons and daughters in consequence of their school opportunities.

An illustration is at hand. In my pedagoging days, two roguish pupils sat side by side. Repeated correction brought no relief from their persistent mischief. Knowing the parents very well, the two families being at the antipodes in regard to government-I resolved to try the experiment of sending them home for the next misdemeanor. On the following day, about the middle of the morning session, an opportunity occurred for the trial. "John and Henry," I exclaimed, "put up your books, and go home." This unexpected command rather startled them at first, and they looked up with surprise, as if to learn whether they understood correctly, or to see whether the teacher meant what he said. I repeated the command, when Henry appeared frightened, but John smiled clear back to his ears. It was evident at once, that the punishment was

well chosen for Henry, but the poorest kind possible for John. Henry left the room crying; John left it laughing; though, to-day, John cries and Henry laughs. In less than one hour Henry returned with this message from his very excellent and faithful mother, "Mother sent me back and told me to tell you that she had punished me for my disobedience, and to ask your forgiveness, and promise to obey you hereafter." "I forgive you, Henry," I said; "take your seat; and let me tell you that you can never love and respect your good mother too much." The result of the experiment with Henry was just as I expected; for I knew his mother well, and she emphatically made her home what it was. But John did not put in his appearance until the next day. He was usually tardy, and the next morning he came in about twenty minutes late. I stopped him on the floor and inquired, before the school, "John! what did your parents say to you?" "Nothin," was his laconic reply. "Did you tell them that I sent you home for misconduct?" "Yes sir." "Did they not reprove you for your misconduct, and advise you to do better?" "They didn't say nothin." Then I say, John, that the next time you violate the rules of school, I will administer the punishment which your parents ought to have inflicted yesterday.

It is quite certain that John's parents did not assist the school by their family government. They furnished one idle, ignorant, unruly boy to annoy the teacher, and render his government more difficult. But Henry's mother coöperated with the teacher for the highest good of her son and the school. The manhood of her Henry is the legitimate fruit of her wise and faithful training-a merchant of unblemished character. In all my efforts to raise money for different objects, Henry is the only man who ever made an application in writing for the privilege of contributing to a particular object. Hearing that I was engaged in soliciting funds for a publie library in his native town, he wrote a letter to me, enclosing a check, with his cordial good wishes for the success of the enterprise. John lives, also, a poor miserable wreck of a man, who early disgraced himself by strong drink, abused his wife and troubled the neighborhood.

This incident illustrates how one home helps school, while another hinders, by requiring or not requiring obedience. There is no doubt that Henry's home was as much benefited by the school, as the school was by his home. On the other hand, it is a question whether John's home was at all improved by the school, while it is certain that the school was injured by his home.

This virtue of obedience cannot be overrated. In home and school, it is an absolute condition of efficient work and eminent success. It is to be sought and insisted upon before the alphabet, grammar or arithmetic. It is vastly more important that a child should obey his parents, than that he should go to school; and when he becomes a member of a school, it is far, far better for him to obey his teacher than to study Latin or Algebra. His parents can make more of a man of him by obedience without schooling, than they can by disobedience with schooling. And the teacher can do better for him by insisting upon obedience first and last, without a thorough drill in mathematics or language, than he can by permitting disobedience for the sake of time to pursue these studies. As obedience lays the foundation of symmetrical character and true progress, so disobedience disorganizes character, hinders progress, and invites remediless failure.

Home and school may be mutually helpful by cultivating the dispositions of boys and girls. The inspired admonition to parents "provoke not your children to wrath," might be addressed to teachers with equal propriety. In both home and school provocations to" wrath" are of frequent occurrence. That the disposition, or temper, is susceptible to education is scarcely made a subject of thought. Although the temper may prove a barrier to the successful career of intellect, as it has done in a multitude of cases, it is too often treated as of no account whatever. Many parents and teachers act as if they discredited the words of a distinguished writer, "Temper is one half of Christianity." Yet the words are true. It is the outward manifestation of the Christian spirit by which men judge of the spirit itself. The best time to train this disposition is in early life; and the best place to do it is in home and school.

The public scarcely realize how much our schools are hindered by the wide-spread disregard of this specialty in families. Multitudes of pupils come from homes in which the passions revel. Even where intelligence characterizes the members, there is often a wretched lack of harmony. Parents fret and scold, and the children imitate them; and home is converted into a nest of quarrelsome birds-the old ones not a whit lovelier than their snarling young. Professor Phelps, in his "Studies of the Old Testament," tells of “a man of high culture," who offered this excuse for his ungovernable temper; "My father was just so; his boys are all so.