THE DISCIPLINE OF SCHOOLS; THE ROD.

There are intellectual epidemics in the world. Sometimes they are general, and, like the cholera, go into all countries. Sometimes they are local, and confined to one country. Just now, there is an ideal epidemic in our country against whipping in schools. Some clergyman in New York beat his child to death; some furious woman in Chicago cruelly bruised her child; and several teachers have beaten children at school more than they ought; and one or two judges, when these teachers have been called before them, have pronounced this whipping a barbarous affair, which the law ought not to suffer-and to make sure that it should not, decided the teachers had no right to whip, which is contrary to law. The law, as it has heretofore existed and been administered, allows the parent and the teacher to punish with the rod in a moderate way. Of course, the law does not allow cruelty. It would be an unreasonable law if it did. But it allows, as a principle, the parent, or teacher, to use his discretion in the discipline, by which he enforces obedience to his prescribed' rules of conduct. The teacher, in the language of the law, stands in loco parentis, and the law can not and ought not to say, that a parent shall not punish his child as he pleases, unless this punishment endangers life or health, in which case it becomes a crime. A discretion—a discretion which may, it is true, be abused—is allowed the teacher as to what kind of and to what extent pun

ishment should be employed. The simple fact that it is a discretionary power, makes it difficult to use it judiciously. The degree of tempers, judgment, and opinion among teachers is as great as among parents, except there are none not in some degree educated. There are, perhaps, thirty thousand teachers in Ohio, and can it be supposed that these teachers are so perfect that there are none of bad tempers or of little judgment? This is not supposable. But when we look over the state of Ohio, and see how few complaints are made against teachers, and how seldom they are summoned to appear before the law, we are compelled to believe that the teachers are rather to be admired, as a body, for humane and judicious treatment of pupils, than to be condemned for unnecessary and cruel severity. On the contrary, if this were the only test of their discipline, we should be afraid that they fell short of, rather than exceeded their just powers of government. But, after all, those specific instances of maltreatment are no test whatever of this mode of discipline. "One swallow," says the proverb, "does not make a summer." Isolated instances among thousands of teachers of unusual cruelty in the punishment of children, prove nothing. More, by far, may be found among parents, whom no one would think of prohibiting this natural power. If we would form some correct opinions of the question of physical discipline, we must go back to first principles, and discuss it ab origine. What is the nature of the child? And what is the province of the teacher? In the first place, we observe that learning-knowledge, knowledge of things,—is not the sole object of teaching. It is scarcely half of it. One of the greatest objects of teaching, is discipline. If the child in school never learned one fact or principle in knowledge, would it have been idly employed if it acquired a discipline of mind and heart and body? If it brought its body to regular habits, its mind to think, its heart to feel right emotions, would not the greatest object of education be accomplished? How long, after such a discipline, would it take to acquire the knowledge obtained in all our common schools? Not a tenth part of the time usually taken. Hence, discipline is, at last, the great thing for us to achieve in the school. This is the great thing achieved at West Point. But if we look at what is said and written about our public schools, we should think the public mind had lost sight of discipline altogether. The idea of liberty has, by necessity, been so much talked about, that men have got a sort of undefined notion that we must relax the law; that all restraint is an infringe

ment on liberty; that it is degrading to punish children; and that the teacher who uses the rod to enforce obedience is a tyrant, who degrades his pupil and abuses his trust. Now, there is

nothing more certain in the constitution of society than that law is necessary to liberty, and that the enforcement of law is neces sary to maintain it. We say, without assuming the office of prophet, that our country stands in danger this day from no one cause so much as the want of discipline by parents and teachers and the want of respect for law. We are now thirty-seven millions of people—and ten millions of them are or ought to be in the schools. Just think of it: ten millions in the schools and two hundred thousand teachers? Now, suppose this whole generation of boys and girls growing up without discipline, because teachers must not punish, and parents will not degrade the sovereigns of America by discipline! What will they come to? Where will this country be when its youth have learned no discipline for themselves, have no respect for law, and pay no veneration to age? All the laws of our human nature must be reversed, if this country does not come to ruin, when such is the education of our youth. No man need say there is no danger of this, when judges of our courts tell the teacher he must not use the only mode of punishment which in some cases is possible, and tell the boys that they can enforce the law against the discipline of the teacher! If this were really done throughout the state, the schools must be broken up. That would be inevitable. But, happily, by tradition, by their own education, by their common sense, and by their natural desire for the welfare of their children, most parents see and repudiate this extreme humanitarian view of physical punishments; and when they know, as generally they do, that the teacher is acting, to the best of his judgment, for the good of the children, they will sustain and strengthen his hands. We thus have the help of nature itself to maintain discipline against ultra opinion.

But are not teachers to blame sometimes in setting before pupils too much the fair side of things? Exciting the hopes of ambition too much in one direction, and the fears of failure too little in another? It is the commonest thing for speakers at school exhibitions, as well as teachers themselves, to tell the boys that any one of them may be President of the United States; but they fail to tell them that the chances are a hundred times greater that any one of them may be hung for want of early discipline in truth and obedience. Yet the last is strictly true. Hope is

indeed, the great impulsive motive of the mind; but if the mind may be swayed healthily and nobly by its attractions, is it not also true that it may be repelled from awful evil by the fear of its terrible retributions? Is human life so wholly invested with roseate hues, that we dare tell the youth, adventuring in its morning, that those hues are never darkened?-that morning is never clouded? Alas! clouds and darkness rest upon it; and we should teach those boys and girls, before we teach them any knowledge, that-that they can escape the dangers of the storm only by the love of holy truth and obedience to all just authority. This is discipline of the heart, which, above all culture, gives also the true discipline of the mind.

But how is obedience to be secured? This brings us to what is called the practical, every-day discipline of the school. And here comes in the epidemic opinion of philanthropists (who is a philanthropist?), that we should not use the rod lest we should degrade these precious bodies, or blunt the sensibilities of some aspiring boy! Now we say plumply, that this sort of sentimentality is downright humbug of the worst kind. It is humbug, because there is nothing particularly precious or dignified in our skins; and of the worst kind, because it seeks to destroy the discipline of the schools, where, of all places, discipline is most needed. The degradation of whipping does not consist in its being put on the body, but that it is punishment. Punishment is degrading. It must be, and it ought to be. How can you escape from punishment in discipline? You can not, and these pseudophilanthropists don't pretend to. They only say, you must punish in some other way. What way is more efficient? Here comes in the discretion of the teacher. For it depends on the age of the pupil, in some measure on his temperament, and on the circumstances of the case, whether the rod is really the best mode of punishment. In general, the youngest children are the most amenable to the rod; for they have the least reason. We use animal punishments (as we should define them) where the reason, which makes man intelligent and superior to mere animals, is not developed. We heard an aged and intelligent lady say, that when a child is old enough to show a temper, it is old enough to be whipped. This will be called by the sentimentalists, cruel; but never was anything said more true. It is the failure of mothers to begin the discipline of children early, that gives teachers, society, and the world such infinite trouble afterwards. The same thing may be said of the youngest children in schools.

Children begin to come to school at five years of age, and from that to ten they are little sensible to any other motives than those which affect their bodily feelings. They can not reason clearly on moral considerations, and they are too young for much ambition. Hence, we see parents and teachers also invent many sorts of minor punishments; but almost the whole of them appeal to the bodily sensations. The parent puts the child in a dark closet, or sends it to bed without supper, or whips it if he thinks that best. The end is the same, and that end will remain, whatever variation there may be in the punishment. Teachers have not so many resources as in a household; and for young children, a good whipping is the quickest, cheapest, and oftentimes the very best mode of punishment. It is no more likely to fail than any other kind of punishment; and yet we admit at once, that there may be boys to whom such a punishment is not suitable. This is particularly the case with the older boys. We once saw a teacher, where we went to school, tie up a boy to a post in the room, and give him a cowhiding. It did no good, but, on the contrary, it did harm. The boy was of a cold, obstinate temperament, and his sensibilities were blunted by his own bad conduct and repeated whippings. In such a case, the boy ought either to be discharged at once, or only moral influences affecting the heart be used. He was in a condition in which only absolute conversion of the heart would do any good. But the teacher was not the man to see this, nor the man to use the kindly influences of the friend, if he had seen it.

We do not affirm that universal whipping is necessary-we do not affirm that the body is the best avenue to the mind; but we do affirm two fundamental principles of education. We affirm that DISCIPLINE is the first and greatest element of education. It is to education what delivery, as described by Demosthenes, is to the orator. Delivery-delivery-delivery! is the essential element of oratory, and so is discipline-discipline-discipline— to education. We affirm again, that to the success of discipline, it is essential that the teacher should be allowed a discretion in his modes of punishment. We do not believe any teacher who is fit to be a teacher on earth, ever whipped children because he wanted to; for to none but an unnatural being, could whipping children be a pleasure. But we say that there is nothing in our modern experience to reverse the doctrine of the ancients, that he who spareth the rod, spoileth the child. We look for that better time, when human nature will be softened by the dews of