tern Scots way, and although he has now rejected the old
beliefs intellectually, his unconscious still clings to them
emotionally. I fancy that if I were very very ill I might go back to
my childish fear of Hell-fire, for, in illness old emotions return, and
intellect flees. Dauvit would no doubt react in the same way.

* * * * *

Many people seem to have a decided fear of psycho-analysis. A mother
writes me from London saying that she would like to send her girl to my
new school, only she is afraid that I shall attempt to analyse the
children.

The fear of psycho-analysis comes from the general belief that Freud
traces every neurosis to early sex experiences. Whether Freud is right
or not does not concern the teacher; he deals with normal children, and
to try to analyse a normal child appears to me to be unnecessary. The
teacher's job is to see that the children are free from fear and free
to create; if he does his task well he is preventing neurosis.

A neurosis is the outcome of repression; the neurotic is a person whose
libido or life force is bottled up; he can be cured only by letting his
pent up emotions free. The aim of education is to allow emotional
release, so that there will be no bottling up, and no future neurosis;
and this release comes through interest. The boy who hates algebra and
has to work examples is getting no release whatever, for his mind is
divided; his attention goes to his quadratic equations, but his
interest is elsewhere.

Hence I do not think analysis is necessary when children are being
freely educated. In an exceptional case a little analysis will do
good. If I see a child unhappy, moody, anti-social, a thief, a bully,
I consider it my job to make an attempt to find out what is at the back
of his mind. With a young boy it is not advisable to tell him the
whole truth about himself; the teacher discovers the truth by watching
the child at play, by studying his wishes as expressed in his writing,
by noting his attitude to his playmates. When he has made his
diagnosis the teacher can then make the necessary changes in the boy's
environment.

I recall the case of Tommy, aged ten. His class was constructing a
Play Town after the fashion set by Caldwell Cook in his delightful book
_The Play Way_. Tommy worked with enthusiasm, too much enthusiasm, for
he pinched the girls' sand for his railway track. The girls objected,
and a regular wordy battle to