previous acquisitions, he may be led at one and the same time, to cultivate his original faculties, and to store his mind richly and permanently with valuable facts. This is what I mean by "the art of teaching," a talent which few naturally possess, but which may doubtless be acquired by the careful and diligent study of the human mind, in connection with a moderate share of "practice."

The use of this latter word suggests an analogy which, certainly to some extent, subsists between the profession of teaching and that of medicine. He who would be an accomplished physician, must study principles, as well as "see cases ;" and, in like manner, he who would be a useful teacher, must look beyond the systems to the principles on which they rest. The man who thinks himself qualified to teach, merely because he has observed others teaching on a particular plan, is just as much an empiric, as the medical pretender whose course of study has been limited to occasional walks through the wards of a hospital. was in connection with this view of the subject, (its relation to the philosophy of the human mind,) that Dr. Thomas Brown, of Edinburgh, spoke of the art of teaching as "the noblest, and in proportion to its value, the least studied of all the arts." When examined in this light, it cannot fail, I think, to be recognised as an attainment equally important to day and to Sunday school teachers; because, it bears as directly on the

It

effectual communication of Divine, as of secular knowledge.

After these remarks, from which you may gather the notions I entertain of the length and breadth of this subject, it is scarcely necessary for me to add, that a letter, like the present, 'can, of necessity, contain little more than a few brief hints, relating indeed to the art in question, but by no means sufficient for its entire comprehension. Before this can be accomplished, many a volume must be studied; and, let me say, too, many a night passed in deep reflection upon the observations of the day.

I will suppose you, then, actuated by a sincere desire to communicate instruction in the best possible way, entering your school room, perplexed and harassed by the waywardness and indifference of your pupils; and that in this state of mind you put the question, "What can I do to excite attention, to stimulate dulness, to awaken effort?" I reply, in the first place, as preliminary indeed to every thing else, bring distinctly before your own mind the well-known fact, that children delight as much in exercising their minds as their limbs; provided only that which is presented to them, be suited to their capacities, and adapted to their strength.*

* Probably it is no exaggeration to say that the appetite for knowledge is as great as any bodily appetite. To know, is one of the

"It was but this morning, (says a recent writer on education,) that I watched a young lazaroni, while he sought to make his little crazy boat lie straight and steady upon the water. How fertile was he in expedients; how ingenious in contrivances; how resolute against despair! First, were the waves too strong; he sought out, therefore, a more sheltered spot: he next adjusted the balance and unfurled the sails-still without success. He then looked around him in much perplexity, till some of that long sea-weed, which is scattered over the coast after a storm, caught his eye: this he seized eagerly, and peeling it into long strips, he tied with them his little boat to a stone, (his sheet anchor;) and then wading as far out as the weed would permit, and so shaping his course that a neighboring jetty might afford him smooth and tranquil water, he again placed his boat upon the There he stood breathless, his hands busied with his burdens, his shirt tucked up and held by his teeth, but still half floating on the water, and his face troubled as though with his last hope. One moment he seemed to have succeeded; the next, and his boat again lay with its side upon the

sea.

strongest desires of childhood; to obtain a new word is pleasant, and to gain a new idea is pleasanter still; but to be crammed with words without ideas is very painful. Dr. Johnson was any thing but a philosopher, when he said that "no attention can be obtained from children without the infliction of pain." Happily for this generation, this notion is now nearly exploded.

waves: he did not however even then despair, but sat himself upon the beach, with an old nail and a stone, to devise some other remedy." Now, we have only to make our experiments equally interesting to the youthful mind, in order to excite and to sustain the same ardor.

It is a great mistake to suppose, as many do, that, in order to make learning pleasant to the young, difficulties must as much as possible be removed out of the-way. On the contrary, it is in teaching them to overcome difficulties, that we shall be most likely to create the interest we are so desirous of calling forth. As a general rule, it should be the care of a teacher to supply his pupils from day to day with a succession of topics, somewhat beyond their knowledge, without being above their comprehension.

General rules, however, will not suffice for the guidance of young teachers; they want details, examples, illustrations; and without these, rules are worthless. If, therefore, I should sometimes enlarge on certain branches of instruction with a minuteness which their relative importance would scarcely seem to justify; if I should stop to weigh conflicting opinions on points which may at first sight appear in themselves too trifling for discussion; if I should sometimes, for the sake of elucidation, descend to apparent littleness; remember

* Ontline of a System of National Education. London, 1835.

that I do so, not because I am either regardless of the importance of condensation, or insensible to the offensiveness of puerility; but because I am determined in these letters to sacrifice every thing else to perspicuity and practical usefulness.

The Alphabet is usually the first subject presented to the notice of a child at school; and a more difficult or tiresome lesson he is never doomed to meet with in his whole future course. The names of the letters are unmeaning and arbitrary sounds; and with two or three exceptions, the forms are not associated with any object previously recognised. How can such an exercise be expected to produce any thing but weariness and disgust? You will be glad to hear that men of the highest attainments in literature, have not thought it beneath their character and standing to endeavor at least to facilitate the passage across this 'bridge of sighs.'

Mr. Wood, of the Sessional School, Edinburgh, whose views I shall first mention, attaches no importance to the order in which the letters are learned. He ridicules the idea of perplexing children at this period with any division of the letters into vowels and consonants or the still further classification of consonants into mutes, liquids, semivowels, and double consonants; and he disapproves, as equally unsuited to their capacities, the distraction of their minds with labials, dentals, gutturals and nasals; even though accompanied by the explanation,