tice of monasteries, if it really existed there. The Benedictines, from the very beginning of their institution, had applied themselves to the profession of literature, and it has been their purpose to have in their houses two kinds of school, a greater or a less, according to the size of the house; and the greater they wished to throw open to all students, at a time when there were but few laymen at all who could teach, so that externs, seculars, laymen, as well as clerics, might be free to attend to them. However, true as it was that boys, who were there from childhood intrusted to the monks, bound themselves by no vow, but could leave when they pleased, marry, go to court, or enter the army, still a great many of the cleverest of them were led, either by the habits which they acquired from their intercourse with their teachers, or by their persuasion, to embrace the monastic life. And thus, while the Church in consequence gained her most powerful supports, the State, on the other hand, was wanting in men of judgment, learning, and experience, to conduct its affairs. This led very frequently to kings choosing monks for civil administration, because no others were to be found capable of undertaking it.

Charles then, consulting for the common good, made literature in a certain sense secular, and transplanted it from the convents to the royal palace; in a word, he established in Paris a Universal School like that at Rome.

Not that he deprived monks of the license to teach and profess, though he certainly limited it, from a clear view that that variety of sciences, human and profane, which secular academies require, is inconsistent with the profession and devotion of ascetics; and accordingly, in conformity to the spirit of their institute, it was his wish that the lesser schools should be set up or retained in the Bishops' palaces and monasteries, while he prescribed the subjects which they were to teach. The case was different with the schools which are higher and public, which, instead of multiplying, he confined to certain central and celebrated spots, not more than to three in his whole empire-Paris, and in Italy, Pavia and Bologna.

But, after all, it was not in an Emperor's power, though he were Charlemagne, to carry into effect in any case, by the resources peculiar to himself, so great an idea as a University. Benefactors and patrons may supply the framework of a Studium Generale; but there must be a popular interest and sympathy, a spontaneous coöperation of the many, the concurrence of genius, and a spreading thirst for knowlelge, if it is to live. Centuries passed before these conditions were supplied, and then at length about the year 1200 a remarkable intellectual movement took place in Christendom; and to it must be ascribed the development of Universities, out of the public or grammar schools, which I have already described. No such movement could happen, without the rise of some deep and comprehensive philosophy; and, when it rose, then the existing Trivium and Quadrivium became the subjects, and the existing seats of learning the scene, of its victories; and next the curiosity and enthusiasm, which it excited, attracted larger and larger numbers to places which were hitherto but local centers of education. Such a gathering of students, such a systematizing of knowledge, are the notes of a University.

The increase of members and the multiplication of sciences both involved changes in the organization of the schools of Charlemagne; and of these the increase of members came first. Hitherto there had been but one governor over the students, who were but few at the most, and came from the neighborhood; but now the academic body was divided into Nations, according to the part of Europe from which they joined it, and each Nation had a head of its own, under the title of Procurator or Proctor. There were traces of this division, as we have seen in a former chapter, in Athens; where the students were arranged under the names of Attic, Oriental, Arab, and Pontic, with a protector for each class. In like manner, in the University of Paris, there

were four nations. first, the French, which included the middle and south of France, Spain, Italy, and Greece; secondly, the English, which, besides the two British Islands, comprehended Germany and Scandinavia; thirdly, the Norman; and fourthly, the Picards, who carried with them the inhabitants of Flanders and Brabant. Again, in the University of Vienna, there were also four nations, Austria, the Rhine, Hungary, and Bohemia. Oxford recognized only two Nations; the north English, which comprehended the Scotch; and the south English, which comprehended the Irish and Welsh. The Proctors of the Nations both governed and represented them; the double office is still traceable, unless the recent Act of Parliament has destroyed it, in the modern constitution of Oxford, in which the two Proctors on the one hand represent the Masters of Arts in the Hebdomadal Board, and on the other have in their hands the discipline of the University.

And as Nations and their Proctors arose out of the metropolitan character of a University, to which students congregated from the farthest and most various places, so are Faculties and Deans of Faculties the consequence of its encyclopædic profession. According to the idea of the institutions of Charlemagne, each school had its own teacher, who was called Rector, or Master. In Paris, however, where the school was founded in St. Geneviève's, the Chancellor of that Church became the Rector, and he kept his old title of Chancellor in his new office. Elsewhere the head of the University was called Provost. However, it was not every one who would be qualified to profess even the Seven Sciences, of which the old course of instruction consisted, though the teaching was only elementary, and to become the Rector, Chancellor, or Provost, of the University; but, when these sciences became only parts of a whole system of instruction, which demanded in addition a knowledge of philosophy, scholastic theology, civil and canon law, medicine, natural history, and the Semitic languages, no one person was equal to the undertaking. The Rector fell back from the position of a teacher to that of a governor; and the instruction was divided among a board of Doctors, each of whom represented a special province in Science. This is the origin of Deans of Faculties; and, inasmuch as they undertook among themselves one of those departments of academical duty, which the Chancellor or Rector had hitherto fulfilled, they naturally became his Council. In some places the Proctors of the Nations were added. Thus, in Vienna the Council consisted of the Four Deans of Faculties, and the Four Proctors.

As Nations preceded Faculties, we may suppose that Degrees, which are naturally connected with the latter, either did not enter into the original provisions of a University, or had not the same meaning as afterwards. And this seems to have been the case. At first they were only testimonials that a resident was fit to take part in the public teaching of the place; and hence, in the Oxford forms still observed, the Vice-Chancellor admits the person taking a degree to the "lectio" of certain books. Degrees would not at that time be considered mere honors or testimonials, to be enjoyed by persons who at once left the University and mixed in the world. The University would only confer them for its own purposes; and to its own subjects, for the sake of its own subjects. It would claim nothing for them external to its own limits; and, if 80, only used a power obviously connate with its own existence. But of course the recognition of a University by the State, not to say by other Uni

versities, would change the import of degree, and, since such recognition has commonly been granted from the first, degrees have seldom been only what they were in their original idea; but the formal words by which they are denoted, still preserve its memory. As students on taking degrees are admitted "legere et disputare," so are they called Magistri," that is, of the schools; and "Doctors," that is, teachers, or in some places "Professors," as the letters S.T.P. show, used instead of D.D.

I conclude by enumerating the characteristic distinctions, laid down by Bulæus, between the public or grammar schools founded by Charlemagne, and the Universities into which eventually some of them grew, or, as he would say, which Charlemagne also founded.

First, he says, they differ from each other ratione disciplina. The Schola Minores only taught the Trivium (viz., Grammar, Logic, Rhetoric,) and the Quadrivium (viz., Geometry, Astronomy, Arithmetic, and Music,) the seven liberal Arts; whereas the Scholæ Majores added Medicine, Law, and Theology. Next, ratione loci; for the Minores were many and everywhere, but the Majores only in great cities, and few in number. I have already remarked on the physical and social qualifications necessary for a place which is to become the seat of a great school of learning: Bulæus observes, that the Muses were said to inhabit mountains, Parnassus or Helicon, spots high and healthy and secured against the perils of war, and that the Academy was a grove; though of course he does not forget that the place must be accessible too, and in the highway of the world. "That the city of Paris," he says, "is ample in size, largely frequented, healthy and pleasant in site, there can be no doubt." Frederic the Second spoke the general sentiment, when he gave as a reason for establishing a University at Naples, the convenience of the sea-coast and the fertility of the soil. We are informed by Matamorus, in his account of the Spanish Universities,* that Salamanca was but the second site of its University, which was transferred thither from Palencia on account of the fertility of the neighborhood, and the mildness of its climate. And Mr. Prescott speaks of Alcala being chosen by Cardinal Ximenes as the site for his celebrated foundations, because "the salubrity of the air, and the sober, tranquil complexion of the scenery, on the beautiful borders of the Henares, seemed well suited to academic study and meditation."

The third difference between the greater and lesser schools lies ratione fundatorum. Popes, Emperors, and Kings, are the founders of Universities; lesser authorities in Church and State are the founders of Colleges and Schools.

Fourthly, ratione privilegiorum. The very notion of a University, I believe, is, that it is an institution of privilege. I think it is Bulæus who says, "Studia Generalia can not exist without privileges, any more than the body without the soul. And in this all writers on Universities agree." He reduces those privileges to two heads, "Patrocinium" and "Præmium;" and these, it is obvious, may be either of a civil or an ecclesiastical nature. There were formerly five Universities endowed with singular privileges: those of Rome, of Paris, of Bologna, of Oxford, and of Salamanca; but Antony à Wood quotes an author who seems to substitute Padua for Rome in this list.

Lastly, the greater and lesser schools differ ratione regiminis. The head of a College is one; but a University is a "respublica litteraria."

* Hispan. Illustr. t. p. 2, 801.

GERMAN PEDAGOGY.

INTRODUCTION.

Is the prosecution of our labors as an educational journalist we have had occasion to draw largely from the pedagogical literature of the German language, which, bèyond that of any other country, is pre-eminently rich in the historical development of education, both public and individual, and in the exhaustive discussion of the principles and methods of instruction. While we must accord to Italy the merit of preserving, and to Italy and France of transmitting and enlarging the ancient civilization, and to the British Isles of sending back to the continent the torch of christian culture when its light was almost extinguished in the devastations of civil war and successive waves of barbarian invasions, we find in the nations which belong to the great German family a succession of schools and teachers, in which and by whom the work of human culture has been carried on with enthusiasm, in spite of civil war, and changing and belligerent dynasties. Since the great ecclesiastical upbreak of the sixteenth century, and particularly since the social and political agitations which grew out of the action of the French Revolution on European institutions, German writers, statesmen, and teachers have bestowed more thought on the problems and discussions of education, than have the same classes in any, or all other countries together. The results are now manifest to the world in the universality and high character of the public instruction, in the wealth of literary and scientific production, in the industrial development, and the military strength of the German people.

It is not creditable to English and American teachers and educators that a literature so rich in thorough historical research, profound speculation, and wise and varied experience from infant training to the broadest university culture, should have been so long neglected-especially when the German educational reformers were so prompt to appreciate and appropriate the broad generalizations of Bacon, and the practical common sense of Locke, as well as the suggestions of Rousseau and Pestalozzi, in this field.

The basis and aim of Beneke's pedagogical views must be found in his psychological publications. To establish the phenomena of mind on a scientific basis, to discard all uncertain speculation, and adhere only to the facts of observation, having ascertained all fixed antecedents, and uniform sequences in these phenomena was the great aim of all his teaching and all his publications, His separate work on Education and Instruction, which is highly valued in the best normal schools of Germany, is only the application of his psychological views to the work of the school-room. We give a brief analysis of his doctrine from two articles in the Museum and English Journal of Education of 1865.

Beneke's System of Psychology.

Beneke sets down two false notions as the principal obstacles to the scientific treatment of psychology. The first one is the practice of regarding the mind in its very earliest stage as an aggregate of special faculties. The child is supposed to have born with him faculties of memory, of understanding, of reasoning, of will, and such like. These faculties are assigned to the child in spite of the fact that no one has really observed the infant recollecting, or reasoning, or deliberately willing. In truth, these faculties do not exist in the child at its birth. There is a power called soul, but it does not admit of farther definition. It does not become known to us until it acts on the outer world, and it is only after long processes, which it is the business of psychology to observe, that it reaches the power of deliberate volition or of abstract reasoning.

But there is a second error which it is equally important to remove. All acts of retention are grouped together, and are assigned to a faculty called memory. All acts of reasoning are grouped together, and assigned to one faculty, called the reasoning faculty. And so on with other faculties. But this is a mistake. Psychologists like Sir William Hamilton and Mansel, allow that there are no such faculties, that the soul is one, and that these faculties are merely convenient names by which to group together similar phenomena. But the fiction leads to gross mistakes, both psychologically and educationally. If there were such a faculty as memory, then if a man's memory were good, he would remember every thing well. But we find that the same man remembers words well, but forgets ideas, remembers numbers well, but forgets tunes, remembers places well, but forgets faces. So we find a critic of art reason soundly, and with wonderful acumen and insight, in the region of art, but he fails entirely in his reasoning in regard to religion or politics. How can this happen if he has but one reasoning faculty?

The business of psychology, then, is to observe the activities of the human mind, to watch and classify all its acts, avoiding all hasty generalizations.

Now, in the first stage of the soul's existence here, we know it only as it comes into contact with external nature. We are, therefore, first to observe what takes place when the mind comes into contact with particular external objects. The results of this observation Beneke gave in what he called the four fundamental processes of the soul.

The first is, if the soul come into contact with an external object, it forms a sensation or sensuous perception. How it forms this sensation is not a ques