The “notions of logic” with which he introduces the other branches are, says the Cardinal, so plain that it is almost superfluous to enumerate them, “tant elles sont de simple bon sens,” [1—­“Traite Elfementaire de Philosophie,” Vol.  I, Introduction.] and he disposes of them in two pages of his textbook.  Obviously this is not so simple when it comes to preparing the fallow ground of a girl’s mind; but it gives some idea of the proportion to be observed in the use of this instrument at the outset, and may save both the teacher and the child from beguiling themselves to little purpose among the moods and figures of the syllogism.  The preliminary notions of logic must be developed, extended, and supplemented through the whole course as necessity arises, just as they have been already anticipated through the preparatory work done in every elementary subject.  This method is not strictly scientific nor in accordance with the full-grown course of philosophy; it only claims to have “le simple bon sens” in its favour, and the testimony of experience to prove that it is of use.  And it cannot be said to be wholly out of rational order if it follows the normal development of a growing mind, and answers questions as they arise and call for solution.  It may be a rustic way of learning the elements of philosophy, but it answers its purpose, and does not interfere with more scientific and complete methods which may come later in order of time.

The importance of the “discipline” of psychology can scarcely be over-estimated.  With that of ethics it gives to the minds of women that which they most need for the happy attainment of their destiny in any sphere of life and for the fulfilment of its obligations.  They must know themselves and their own powers in order to exercise control and direction on the current of their lives.  The complaint made of many women is that they are wanting in self-control, creatures of impulse, erratic, irresponsible, at the mercy of chance influences that assume control of their lives for the moment, subject to “nerves,” carried away by emotional enthusiasm beyond all bounds, and using a blind tenacity of will to land themselves with the cause they have embraced in a dead-lock of absurdity.

Such is the complaint.  It would seem more pardonable if this tendency to extremes and impulsiveness were owned to as a defect.  But to be erratic is almost assumed as a pose.  It is taken up as if self-discipline were dull, and control reduced vitality and killed the interest of life.  The phase may not last, stronger counsels may prevail again.  In a few years it may be hoped that this school of “impressionism” in conduct will be out of vogue, but for the moment it would seem as if its weakness and mobility, and restlessness were rather admired.  It has created a kind of automobilism—­if the word may be allowed—­of mind and manners, an inclination to be perpetually “on the move,” too much pressed for time to do anything at all, permanently unsettled, in fact to be unsettled is its habitual condition if not its recognized plan of life.