Discipline is one of the most pressing problems in the quorums and organizations of the Church today.  On every hand the complaint is registered that proper respect is not shown, either for those in important positions or for our places of worship.

The spirit that accompanies the political rally or basketball game, held in our amusement halls, too frequently is carried into our sacred meetings.  The spirit of unconcern is carried into our classrooms until all too often to call the condition one of disorder is a very inadequate description of the procedure.

It is interesting to note the changing attitude generally in the matter of discipline.  The harshness of other days is largely replaced by a leniency that borders on “easiness.”  Our whole attitude toward criminals has been revolutionized, and our human impulses have carried over into the realm of teaching, until now, at least in the opinion of very many critics, we have drifted largely into “soft pedagogy”—­a process of trying to please regardless of the consequences.

Earlier treatises on education devoted a good bit of space to the amount and kind of punishment that should be administered in a well-ordered school.  Punishment is decidedly out of taste these days.  The biography of an old German master discloses the fact that during his teaching career he had administered 911,527 raps with his cane, 20,989 with a ruler, 136,715 with his hand, and that he was responsible for 1,115,800 slaps on the head.  The same attitude is reflected in the fact that in England, as late as the year 1800, two hundred twenty-three offenses were punishable by death.  The offenses included shooting rabbits, stealing, defacing Westminster Bridge, etc.  In our day we hesitate to apply the extreme penalty even to the murderer.

The attitude toward the content of teaching has undergone a change quite in keeping with that attached to method.  There was a time when pedagogical philosophy rather hinted, “It doesn’t make any difference what you teach a boy, as long as he doesn’t like it.”  The hint these days might more nearly read:  “It doesn’t make any difference how valuable certain material is for a boy, don’t attempt to teach it to him unless it fascinates him.”  Our effort to interest our pupils has practically resulted in taking the scriptures, particularly the Old Testament, out of our organizations.  Of course, the doctrine of interest is a very vital one, but there are bounds beyond which we ought not to push it.

It is, therefore, perfectly obvious that there is urgent need of discipline.  Any effort at social control demands it.  The army succeeds as it does because of its discipline.  Wherever a group of individuals undertake action in common, every member must be willing to sink interests of self in welfare of others.  As was pointed out in the chapter on Individual Differences, a class is made up of all kinds of individuals.  They