demanded.

Hence we see in the courses of study for mere children, subjects which can only be comprehended by the mind at the period of manhood. The result is unhappy. The pupil leaves school, as it is said, thoroughly educated, but utterly disgusted with the studies which he has pursued, and resolved hereafter never to look at them again; a resolution to which he frequently adheres with marvellous pertinacity. But this evil is confined to no grade of schools. It exists, if I mistake not, in our more advanced seminaries of learning. Many of our pupils are employed in studies which they cannot understand, and in which, of course, they can find no pleasure. I know very well that I read Cicero's Orations ten years before I could understand an oration of Burke. I read Tacitus long before I could comprehend Hume; and Horace when I had no power of appreciating Burns. I had finished my course in rhetoric some years before I had any distinct conception of beauty of style; and long after I had gone through Stewart, I should have been puzzled to distinguish between perception and conception. I presume that now we are doing better, but I should not be surprised if there were found many now studying the Greek tragedies, who can see no beauty in Shakespeare, and poring over the "Oration on the Crown," who would think it a task to read an oration of Webster.

I fear that it is from this cause that our pupils take so little interest in their studies. They come to them as to a task, glad when the task is intermitted, and happy when it ceases altogether. This

should not be so. The use of the intellectual faculties is intended to be a source of happiness, and there must be some error where this result does not follow from the use of them. Does not this error arise from our neglect of the manifest indications of our Creator?

The testimony of our pupils would seem to confirm the truth of these remarks. They are all anxious to enter college while young, that they may, as it is said, complete their education early. After they have graduated, their universal regret is that this part of their education had not been postponed until they were capable of appreciating its value. They tell us that they are now only prepared to enter college, and, were it in their power, they would gladly go over their whole course again, especially the last two years of it, for that now they could do it with advantage. And these expressions of regret proceed not from our worst scholars, but most frequently from the most eminent.

I cannot but believe that these are indications of some want of proper adjustment in our course of education, and especially that we have employed the minds of our pupils upon subjects for which they were not sufficiently mature. In confirmation of this opinion, it may be remarked, that these same complaints are not made, so far as I have observed, at the close of a course of study for the legal and medical professions. I do not think that either legal or medical studies are, in themselves, more interesting than the studies pursued in college. They are, however, pursued at a period of greater

mental maturity, and, therefore, are better adapted to the age of the student.

If, then, it be the fact that the studies which we pursue fail to produce their best effect, from the want of adaptation to the age of the pupil, is it not evident that this 'whole subject requires a careful reëxamination? Can we not conceive of a course of instruction which would seem manifestly better adapted to the development of our faculties than the present?

If the perceptive faculties come first to maturity, might we not devise some mode of educating and developing them more perfectly, could we not cultivate the power of accurate and acute observation, so that every one of our senses would be of vastly greater value to us, throughout the remainder of our lives? The minute knowledge of facts, and the habit of observing the slightest differences between them, lies at the foundation of all improvement in physical science. Were these faculties early improved, would not the number of philosophers, both in theory and in practice, be greatly increased?

The knowledge of facts leads at once, by the principles of the human mind, to generalization. Hence, the mind, at a more advanced stage, would desire to understand the classifications of physical science. The more simple principles of vegetable and animal physiology might be comprehended at a much earlier period than is commonly supposed. The structure of plants might be so far unfolded by living specimens, that every walk in the fields would be, to a child, a miniature voyage of dis

covery. The classifications of animals and insects, their habits and modes of life, would form another most interesting line of investigation. I apprehend that this kind of education would form an admirable preparation for more abstract study. One of the most interesting papers on natural history that I ever read, is that on the habits of spiders, written, when he was about thirteen years of age, by the first President Edwards, afterwards the ablest metaphysician of his time. And, besides this, we should thus spread before the youthful mind the volume of the works of God, and render the world we live in a source of ever renewed wonder and delight. I know of no part of my early education which I would not thankfully exchange for the ability, which under good instruction I might possibly have acquired, of understanding and interpreting the ideas of God in creation, and of thus being brought into daily and intimate relation with my Father who is in heaven.

From these studies, the passage is easy to Geography. If we become interested in the productions of the earth, we must naturally desire to know something of the earth itself. What is it? what is its form? what its climates? whence arises its variety of climate, what are its natural divisions. and subdivisions? What are its mountains and rivers, and how came its present features into existence? All these questions, leading to the most extended investigations in every direction, become at once matters of earnest thought as soon as a child has found a few miles of the earth's surface so

In

filled with manifestations of the goodness and wisdom of God. Geography would thus be clothed with an unceasing interest, and, provided it were accompanied with suitable maps and illustrations, would be pursued with unfailing pleasure. teaching geography, I would, however, treat it as I would any other branch of physical knowledge. would look upon the earth as a grand specimen in physical science, presented for our examination. The knowledge of artificial divisions, of national boundaries, number of inhabitants, revenues, exports and imports, will readily associate itself with the knowledge of natural divisions, and will be remembered more easily by means of a vivid objective representation. It is because the study of geography consists so much of these dry details, that it in general awakens no greater interest in the pupil. Pursued as a branch of physical science, we should, in the first place, lay the foundation for wide and valuable generalizations; we should create in the mind a consciousness of the need of geology, history, ethnography, and political economy, and thus accomplish the best purpose of teaching, by rendering every addition to our knowledge an incitement to further acquisition.

But this knowledge thus acquired, will, in its progress, necessitate very different knowledge. A pupil while pursuing these studies will feel absolutely obliged to acquire some skill in arithmetic. With this might easily be associated the study of geometry and algebra, as far as they were capable of being well understood. A language or two