sociation of ideas, much more by natural. Hence the value of 'tout est dans tout,' or, to adopt a modification suggested by Mr. Payne, of the connection of knowledges. Suppose we know only one subject, but know that thoroughly, our knowledge, if I may express myself algebraically, cannot be represented by ignorance plus the knowledge of that subject. We have acquired a great deal more than that. When other subjects come before us, they may prove to be so connected with what we had before, that we may almost seem to know them already. In other words, when we know a little thoroughly, though our actual possession is small, we have potentially a great deal more. (See Appendix, p. 313.)

6

Jacotot's practical application of his 'tout est dans tout' was as follows: Il faut apprendre quelque chose, et y rapporter tout le reste. (The pupil must learn something thoroughly, and refer everything to that.') For language he must take a model-book, and become thoroughly master of it. His knowledge must not be a verbal knowledge only, but he must enter into the sense and spirit of the writer. Here we find that Jacotot's practical advice coincides with that of many other great authorities, who do not base it on the same principle. The Jesuits' maxim was, that their pupils should always learn something thoroughly, however little it might be. Pestalozzi, as I have mentioned, insisted on the children going over the elements again and again till they were completely master of them. 'Not only,' says he, 'have the first elements of knowledge in every subject, the most important bearing on its complete outline; but the child's

confidence and interest are gained by perfect attainment even in the lowest stage of instruction.' Ascham, Ratich, and Comenius all required a model-book to be read and re-read till words and thoughts were firmly fixed in the pupil's memory. Jacotot probably never read Ascham's Schoolmaster.' If he had done so, he might have appropriated some of Ascham's words as exactly conveying his own thoughts. Ascham, as we saw, recommended that a short book should be thoroughly mastered, each lesson being worked over in different ways a dozen times at the least. Thus is learned easily, sensibly, by little and little, not only all the hard congruities of grammar, the choice of aptest words, the right framing of words and sentences, comeliness of figures, and forms fit for every matter and proper for every tongue; but that which is greater also-in marking daily and following diligently thus the best authors, like invention of arguments, like order in disposition, like utterance in elocution, is easily gathered up; whereby your scholar shall be brought not only to like eloquence, but also to all true understanding and right judgment, both for writing and speaking.' The voice seems Jacotot's voice, though the hand is the hand of Ascham.

But if Jacotot agrees so far with earlier authorities, there is one point in which he seems to differ from them. He makes great demands on the memory, and requires six books of Télémaque' to be learned by heart. On the other hand, Montaigne said, 'Savoir par cœur est ne pas savoir;' which is echoed by Rousseau, H. Spencer, &c. Ratich required that

nothing should be learnt by heart. Protests against 'loading the memory,' saying without book,' &c., are everywhere to be met with, and nowhere more vigorously expressed than in Ascham. He says of the grammar-school boys of his time, that their whole knowledge, by learning without the book, was tied only to their tongue and lips, and never ascended up to the brain and head, and therefore was soon spit out of the mouth again. They learnt without book everything, they understood within the book little or nothing.' But these protests were really directed at verbal knowledge, when it is made to take the place of knowledge of the thing signified. We are always too ready to suppose that words are connected with ideas, though both old and young are constantly exposing themselves to the sarcasm of Mephistopheles :

eben wo Begriffe fehlen,

Da stellt ein Wort zur rechten Zeit sich ein.*

Against this danger Jacotot took special precautions. The pupil was to undergo an examination in everything connected with the lesson learnt, and the master's share in the work was to convince himself, from the answers he received, that the pupil thoroughly grasped the meaning, as well as remembered the words, of the author. Still the six books of Télémaque,' which Jacotot gave to be learnt by heart, was a very large dose, and Mr. Payne is of opinion that

*...just where meaning fails, a word

Comes patly in to serve your turn.

Theodore Martin's Trans.

WHAT WE GAIN BY LEARNING.

215

he would have been more faithful to his own principles if he had given the first book only.

There are three ways in which the model-book may be studied. 1st. It may be read through rapidly again and again, which was Ratich's plan and Hamilton's; or, 2nd, each lesson may be thoroughly mastered, read in various ways a dozen times at the least, which was Ascham's plan; or, 3rd, the pupil may begin always at the beginning, and advance a little further each time, which was Jacotot's plan. This last could not, of course, be carried very far. The repetitions, when the pupil had got on some way in the book, could not always be from the beginning; still every part was to be repeated so frequently that nothing could be forgotten. Jacotot did not wish his pupils to learn simply in order to forget, but to learn in order to remember for ever. We are learned,' said he, not so far as we have learned, but only so far as we remember.' He seems, indeed, almost to ignore the fact that the act of learning serves other purposes than that of making learned, and to assert that to forget is the same as never to have learned, which is a palpable error. We necessarily forget much that passes through our minds, and yet its effect remains. All grown people have arrived at some opinions, convictions, knowledge, but they cannot call to mind every spot they trod on in the road thither. When we have read a great history, say, or travelled through a fresh country, we have gained more than the number of facts we happen to remember. The mind seems to have formed an acquaintance with that history or that country, which

is something different from the mere acquisition of facts. Moreover, our interests, as well as our ideas, may long survive the memory of the facts which originally started them. We are told, that one of the old judges, when a barrister objected to some dictum of his, put him down by the assertion, Sir, I have forgotten more law than ever you read.' If he wished to make the amount forgotten a measure of the amount remembered, this was certainly fallacious, as the ratio between the two is not a constant quantity. But he may have meant that this extensive reading had left its result, and that he could see things from more points of view than the less travelled legal vision of his opponent. That power acquired by learning may also last longer than the knowledge of the thing learned is sufficiently obvious.

The advantages derived from having learnt a thing are, then, not entirely lost when the thing itself is forgotten. This leads me to speak, though at the risk of a digression, on the present state of opinion on this matter. In setting about the study of any subject, we may desire (1) the knowledge of that subject; or (2) the mental vigour derivable from learning it; or (3) we may hope to combine these advantages. Now, in spite of the aphorism which connects knowledge and power together, we find that these have become the badges of opposite parties. One party would make knowledge the end of education. Mr. Spencer assumes as a law of nature that the study which conveys useful knowledge must also give mental vigour, so he considers that the object of educa