extent our models; and more than one modern literature now stands, whatever classical pedants may say, if not as their rivals, at least with an urgent claim to share the representation of Literature. We fear it would be a dangerous question to ask what are the real classical attainments of many of our best and most admired belles-lettres scholars. Does not one get his real training from Dante, another from Shakspeare, another from Goethe?

Especially do we think that the English language, destined as it is to extend its sway over all quarters of the globe, has a powerful claim to be considered one, at least, of the representatives of Literature in education. We disbelieve altogether that theory, so common once, that it is no consequence whether we study English systematically, provided only we study Latin thoroughly, -that can be the notion of a classical pedant only. On the contrary, we can conceive of one form, at least, of literary education into which Latin certainly shall enter, and a thorough study of it too, but not Latin for its own sake so much as for its uses, in the study of languages far more valuable than itself, and of the English first and foremost. Beyond such study let the cultiva tion of Latin verses and the commenting on Latin authors be not neglected, only left as a specialty and an elegant accomplishment to those minds which have a turn for them.

Again we must distinguish between the training which should constitute the foundation of popular, and that which should be at Now, though often

the basis of a learned or scholarly education. confounded, we believe these two educations should be kept very distinct, and the distinction should be the very one we have mentioned, that popular education should contain a maximum of objective and scientific studies, while a learned education should be the reverse. If it were not for our stupid, pedagogic ways, the bent of a boy's mind would be very easily, and usually very early detected. If from the very infant school the child's mind. had offered to it both kinds of mental food, that which is fitted to develop the senses and the love of outward nature, and that which tends to develop the æsthetic sense and the reflective faculties, the preponderating bent of the mind would soon show itself. The reason why it does not do so now is because boys destined for a

higher education, in order to conform to the absurd and unreasonable requisitions of our colleges, are fed exclusively from their tenth to their sixteenth year on Latin and Greek grammars and on abstract mathematics. The other side of their minds thus gets no opportunity to develop, and what wonder that so many turn out failures! Surely the advocates of the study of physical science are not to be called one-sided for wishing to change such a state of things as this.

We believe that if the study of Physical Science were recognized as it should be in education, so far from training the whole community into "atheistic physicists," a result which seems to be the bugbear of our classical friends, we should have more and not fewer classical and belles-lettres scholars, more historians, poets, essayists, dramatists and better ones. For literature, relieved of the dead-weight of uncongenial minds, emancipated from being the slave-of-all-work in education, would be truly cultivated by those who loved it; while we should also have what the country sadly needs in this generation, a multitude of men of far-reaching scientific attainments to develop her vast material resources, and another greater multitude equipped with that solid, practical and serviceable education which is useful in order to fight the tough battle of life honorably and well as plain citizens of a free country.

As for the English scholarship of which so much is said, we would not deny its beauty and its charm in those exceptional cases where great natural talents are combined with true classical culture. But the number of such real scholars is, we imagine, small compared with the number of utter ignoramuses or of useless and conceited prigs whom Oxford and Cambridge annually turn out upon the world. The scholarship even of the best smells of the monkish cloister, except in those rare cases where great natural genius, and powers which would have made their way under any circumstances, and early and extensive acquaintance with the world, have cured its weaknesses and defects. We want scholarship surely; but it seems to us that in this country we want a scholarship which, while its standard shall be as high, shall be of a robuster make. We doubt about that dogma of the necessary

vulgarity of democracies; is it not rather that the culture of aristocracies is finical and effeminate? We want universities; but surely we do not want American Oxfords.-[Ed.

HINTS ON TEACHING.

No. 2. AIMS IN TEACHING.

In my first article I stated that the teacher should have four grand aims. 1. To cultivate the power to acquire knowledge. 2. To cultivate a disposition to acquire it. 3. To impart knowledge. 4. To teach how to use it. The first and second I have already considered, and I pass to the remaining two.

As to imparting knowledge, there is much less of it done by most teachers than is commonly supposed. Often mere words and forms of expression are lodged in the memory, with little or no knowledge of the facts or ideas which they are intended to communicate. Teaching is very often mere recitation-hearing, the pupil being required to repeat accurately what he finds in the text-book, the teacher deeming it his chief, perhaps his only duty to see whether the recitation be correct. This is all wrong. Thought about things is necessary to make knowledge, and the evoking of thought in the pupil should therefore be the main object in the recitation. It will not do to presume that he thinks, much less that he thinks correctly. The teacher must himself think, and imbue the class with his thoughts, and wake up thought in their minds; and then apply tests to see whether the thinking is actually done. All this implies mental labor in the teacher, while mere recitation-hearing does not.

A strictly memoriter recitation, however correct, is never to be trusted as indicating that the pupil understands the subjects about which he recites. This rule should be adopted by every teacher, and yet it is extensively transgressed, and in some schools entirely disregarded. Teachers are very apt to take it for granted that scholars understand the meaning of what they have committed to memory. I will give but two out of many illustrations of this, which have

come under my observation. Hearing, on my visit at a school, a recitation of a lesson in geography, in which such expressions as diversified scenery and rolling country were used, I asked some questions, in order to discover whether the pupils understood what these signified, and found that none of them had the remotest idea of their meaning, although all could repeat the lesson almost word for word, and therefore made what is called a good recitation. The other is from a class in arithmetic, who were reciting in square measure. I asked them if they could any of them tell me what the difference is between a foot and a square foot. No hand was raised, and the blank, bewildered expression on the countenances of the whole class showed that none of them could answer the question. However, in order to give them a full cpportunity to develop what they did know, I asked if any of them could draw on the blackboard, first a foot, and then a square foot. Several of the class now held up their hands, and the teacher selected a very bright-looking boy to go to the blackboard. As he began by drawing a curved instead of a straight line, I asked him what he was making. "A heel, sir," said he. The teacher was astonished at this display of the ignorance of her pupils, for she supposed that they would know, as a matter of course, what inches and feet and square inches and square feet are, without being taught what they are explicitly by her. I will give just here an item of experience from another teacher, who very rationally acted upon the contrary supposition. A little girl said to her, on entering the school-room, "I cannot learn long measure. I have tried very hard, but I cannot do it." In the course of the afternoon the teacher, by the aid of a carpenter's rule, which she had borrowed for the purpose, taught her pupils what inches, feet, yards, etc., are. When the recitations came to be heard this girl recited as well as any one, and the teacher said to her, "Why did you say that you could not learn long measure?" "Because then," replied she, "I did not know what it is, but now that I understand it, it is easy enough to learn it."

Mere memoriter recitation is not confined to schools of lower grades, but is often practised in high schools, and even in colleges. A very interesting example of it is given in the life of Prescott

the historian. For some of the English studies, as the higher metaphysics, he had a hearty disrelish, but his remarkable memory enabled him to get along with them very comfortably, because he understood them to some little extent. But of Geometry and Mathematics he did not understand even a little, so that here his recitations must be sheer exercises of the memory. In these, however, he succeeded perfectly, committing to memory long mathematical demonstrations, word for word, and letter for letter. But after trying this for a while, and having some amusement from it with a few friends who were in the secret, tiring of the farce, he went to the professor and told him the truth, and succeeded in making an arrangement by which he was excused from this mere rote recitation.

This making the memory such a common pack-horse in education, as is very commonly done, while it may have a great show of accumulating knowledge and furnish very creditable examinations, is really one of the greatest obstacles to the accumulation of knowledge. It is so not merely at the time, but during all after life; for it creates, and if continued for any length of time establishes, a superficial habit of mind, which allows the memory to store up words and expressions with, but at the most, shadowy ideas of their meaning.

The methods by which knowledge should be imparted, my limits will not permit me to consider, and I now pass to the fourth aim in teaching to teach how to use knowledge.

Failing to teach in the school how to use knowledge, is as great an error as it would be for a mechanic to content himself with teaching his apprentices the qualities of the materials they are to work upon, and of the tools they are to work with, neglecting all practical training of them in the use of these materials and tools. All of the uses of knowledge cannot, it is true, be taught in the school, but most of them can be, to some extent, and should be in justice to the pupil.

First, the pupil should be taught how to use his knowledge in what is commonly called business. To this end it should be put into as practical a form as possible. The processes of arithmetic, algebra, and geometry should be applied to practical uses continu