ous attainment. All have arrived at a certain point; to surpass, requires still greater exertion or skill than when the standard of excellence was lower. This is the real cause of the complaints we sometimes hear of the mediocrity of modern times, and of the scarcity of men of genius: a scarcity which, instead of being gratefully ascribed to the diffusion of knowledge, is erroneously attributed to the injurious effects of tuition and education. These complainants deplore a public benefit; for it can scarcely be doubted which is better for society, whether thousands should enjoy a certain portion of knowledge, and of mental power, or that they should be monopolized by a few individuals.

It is not pretended that all this increased facility of obtaining instruction, and all the improvements in the art of education, have arisen from public schools and universities. The art of printing, the emulation and the competition excited by the press, have contributed to produce this melioration. Ancient establishments have, in the mean time, continued stationary; their rules have not been changed to adapt them to our times; their routine of instruction, such as it was centuries ago, continues with little alteration; and consequently many studies and many dogmas, which have long since been exploded, continue nevertheless to make a customary part of university education. In our public schools also there are defects and deficiencies a uniform course of instruction must there be pursued by youth intended for different professions, and they waste much time in acquiring learning which will be of little use to them in real life; whilst they have no means of obtaining knowledge that would be advantageous in their

various professions. This subject has been of late so much discussed, that it is not necessary to state the arguments, which have been adduced against the learning usually taught at schools and universities, or those which have been urged in favour of the present system: it seems on all hands to be agreed, that some change is necessary; but what that change should be, and how far it should extend, is a subject of great delicacy.

It is always wise to take advantage of the experiments that have been tried upon a large scale in other countries. The Jesuits had established a system of instruction, the success of which was exemplified in every country of the new and old world. Frederick the Great turned his vast mind to this object; and within the last ten years, much attention and uncommon energy were exerted in France to improve the national education. Frederick's was a military academy, and his instructions for the founding of the institution, and the history of its progress and decline, under the arrangement of different professors, may be useful in this country.

Of the little that has transpired, scarcely any thing can be adopted by us from the Jesuits' system of education; because it was founded on peculiar religious tenets, and on l'esprit de corps. That society acted as a body, and had colleges and schools in regular gradation, all subordinate to their head; quick and constant communication was maintained between the masters of these schools, that is to say, between all the inferiors and superiors of the order; notes were kept of the ages, talents, dispositions, and acquirements of

each of the pupils, and these were transmitted to the superior, so that he had a general knowledge of the rising generation; and whenever a young man of ability was wanted for any mission or employment, whenever any means of placing a youth advantageously occurred, the Jesuits exerted themselves to obtain it for their pupils. They had interest not only in private families, but they had insinuated themselves at courts into almost all public affairs; so that they had continual opportunities of rewarding and providing for their most promising pupils. This assurance of reward, and this hope of advancement, made it the anxious wish of parents in all catholic countries to get their children admitted into the Jesuit seminaries; and the young people themselves were excited to emulation by the most powerful means. The examinations in passing from one order of schools to another were strict and impartial; the studies and application required for success enured the youth early to labour; and the certainty of immediate reward or punishment, proportioned to their merits or demerits, kept alive the spirit of emulation, and regulated the conduct of the whole. Great care was taken to admit none but promising youths, and none but those who had given proofs of learning or talents were advanced to public situations; for the honour and interest of the order were the governing principles, and thus supplied motives for industry and impartiality.

In our schools, which are not thus subordinate to a corporation of masters, and where there are not the same means of communication, or power of rewarding and providing for pupils, no imitation of their rules can be of any use, nor

would it be at all desirable, that any portion of mystery should be introduced into our free and open system of public education. Whatever its faults may be, its publicity is an invaluable advantage. Whatever peculiar and superior arts of instruction the Jesuits may have possessed, and that they had such may be presumed from the celebrity of numbers of their pupils, they would be purchased at too high a price by the introduction of any system of secret combination, of any inquisitorial spirit, or any political intrigue. There is, indeed, one particular in the Jesuits' plan of education, which might be advantageously imitated: they taught much by conversation, each pupil was allowed to have the advantage of conversation with the superiors for a certain number of hours, and it was believed that much knowledge was communicated in a short time by this oral mode of instruction. It has been remarked, that the pupils of the Jesuits had more presence of mind in conversation, had more ready recollection of their knowledge, and, in short, were moré men of the world, than youths brought up by any other preceptors; and this has justly been attributed to the habits of conversing, which they acquired by their early education.

1

In France, during the administration of M. de Lamoignon, there was a design to improve the national education, and something upon the plans of the Jesuits' schools and colleges, to use court language, was, in contemplation. But the breaking out of the dreadful revolution put an end to these schemes. In the first national assembly there were many men of the highest reputation for literature, science, and real

virtue, who desired only moderate reform, who little foresaw the consequences of some of their own attempts to improve : who did not, till it was too late to take measures either for their own safety or that of the nation, perceive the swelling tide of democracy, by which they were suddenly overwhelmed. Amongst these were many who produced plans of public instruction and of national education, full of eloquence and ability. In the enthusiasm of the moment, they were all applauded, and all to be adopted; but they perished with their unfortunate authors.. In the anarchy that ensued, almost all the universities and colleges in France were destroyed; the ancient school of medicine, and every other useful and yenerable institution, were suspended or suppressed. Men of sense or virtue, however they deplored this destruction, had no possible means of preventing it; they had no power; their only safety was in remaining unknown, during the reign of terror; and for years afterwards, such was the fluctuation of party, that they could only snatch opportunities to obtain any useful vote in favour of education. This neglect of all instruction would probably have continued longer, and would have thrown the nation back into barbarism, if it had not been counteracted by extraordinary motives for exertion; motives created partly by the necessities and partly by the enthusiasm of the revolution. The ignorance of the rulers, and the equality of the people, soon threw every thing into confusion; but the rulers, to preserve their power, and indeed their lives, were obliged to have recourse to men of science.

Chemistry was first put in requisition. Robespierre suspected, or pretended to suspect, that the brandies for the