To speak of the child’s instincts and natural powers as if they were divine and all-sufficient in themselves is allowed only in poetry. “The child begins life a savage, ignorant of civilization.” His impulses and caprices have to be subjected to the reason of the matured spirit, and his mind, empty of experience, has to be filled with the wisdom of the race. “He must be taught everything: how to take care of his person, how to behave in the presence of others, how to do his work in the world and earn an honest living, how to observe and how to think. He has to learn the view of the world which civilization has attained.” The good mother is she who is “always alert to see to it that her child learns to inhibit--learns self-control or self-restraint.” “Her chief work is inhibiting this or that, and educating the child into the practice of inhibiting constantly.” For “out of one thousand things he may do, nine hundred and ninety-nine are improper to be done, and he must refuse to adopt them. Passing by all these, he must do only the one thing proper” (6: pp. 2-3). The child who, under this maternal discipline, has acquired “a bundle of personal habits and the use of language to communicate ideas and receive them,” is taken next to the hand of the school-teacher. His work is the continuation of that of the mother, and still preëminently is in “the domain of prescription.” “The special work of the school in the great process of education is that of giving the youth letters and civil manners” (6: p. 4). By “civil manners,” “the habits of acting according to the broad forms and conventionalities of rational existence” are meant. These habits are not born with the child, they are no innate inheritance that he brings with him into the world, but have to be acquired by him. So the educator is not to minister to the nature of the child, but to repress it. With all his vigilance and self-control the teacher “applies a firm, steady pressure to the material under his charge and molds it into form” (5: p. 128).