comprehend what this means. We have vague ideas of a state where deformity has given place to beauty and discord to harmony; but the routes by which it is reached are described with such bewildering inconsistencies that none of us can be sure that any of them leads to the enchanted palace. Metaphysicians dream of a time when the mind may receive as accurate a diagnosis as the body; and when, by the combined efforts of physiologist and psycholist, they shall be able to state unerringly the cause and results of mental phenomena. When that dream is realized the teacher may be able to determine the effects of birth and early environment, and hence to begin his work with some surety of not blundering.

Meanwhile, the teacher of the present cannot wait for the dawn of that Utopian day of the far future. He must needs work; and,hether he will or not, under his hands character is being formed. The body will adjust itself to almost any externals, and assimilate nourishment from almost any form of food; so will the mind, and one is as easily stunted and diseased as the other. The teacher is forbidden to form and nourish the mind, and, oftentimes, he fancies he has done it when he has used the means to that end provided by the subjects he teaches. The most nourishing food will not produce strong and healthy tissues in a body kept in foul air; neither will good, wholesome books alone form a fair character. What pure air is to the body, gracious manners in the teacher are to the mind of the child.

Character may be defined as the sum of tendencies, the aggregate of habits; and, in the formation of these, the sentiments bear no inferior part. Teachers often forget that the intellect and will are not the whole of man; that nine-tenths of his deeds are determined by feeling, That right feeling is produced by clear perceptions and logical judgments, is most true; but these very processes of perception and judgment are influenced by the atmosphere of sentiment that surrounds a teacher. Is he careful to see things exactly as they are; to admit no exaggerations in his premises; to distinguish between theory and fact; to state nothing as ultimate, that future investigation may prove but a first step? Is he this in class room and out of it, in illustrating a reality of science, settling a question of behavior, or performing a business transaction? Then, and only then, may he be sure that his pupils will draw from him that nobleness which forbids untruthfulness and hasty judgments.

ter.

One teacher is cynical, and expresses it on all occasions, forgetting that a faithless heart never produced the deeds of a Howard or a Florence Nightingale-forgetting that there is no danger of his pupils failing to see the dark and craven side of life, and that there is great fear of their missing the perception of the lovely and heroic in human characAnother tells the last bit of social news, every unpleasant episode at school, and the innocent follies of girls and boys, with the last coloring of a true gossip. Is it any wonder that his pupils become onesided and morbid, and lose that greatest courtesy which would blush to expose unnecessarily the faults of another? One is so afraid of not having his importance realized that he assumes dignities that do not belong to him, and criticises, with an air of righteous superiority, the work of every other teacher associated with him; yet he snubs his pupils for assumptions of dignity and conceit, unmindful that these are but reflections of himself. Another, who will tolerate in his pupils not even a suggestion of discourtesy, gives public censure for private faults; ridicules one for stupidity, another for shyness; declares a pupil has not studied the lesson when the failure at recitation is caused by his blind question or sarcastic comments; and holds that youth beyond forgiveness who intimates that he may have made a mistake. A teacher forbids his pupils to speak at all to one another during a general exercise or a public recitation; but he talks the whole hour with superintendent or committee-man, criticising every performance, and discussing other matters. At school he enlarges on the great rudeness of even a necessary remark to a seat-mate while he may be talking; but, at the next lecture in town, he converses with a comrade half the time that the speaker is trying to entertain him.

These and other innumerable ways, in which the manners of a teacher vary from those he demands of his pupils, make the atmosphere in which their minds develop. A teacher sometimes sees and sincerely regrets these incongruities; but, too often, he does not notice them at all, or excuses them because of his superior position. He forgets that not what he says, but what he does, shapes the sentiments of his pupils; and that the habits of thought formed in the present succession of days determine the adult character of every child in his presence.

There is a point beyond which a certain tendency cannot be checked, the influence of an environment overcome. Habit may master the will and force one to drift, hopeless of change. A teacher who should

foster in his pupils a habit of opium-eating would be promptly expelled from the school-room. Is he less culpable who leads them into modes of thought that lesson vigor and tone of mind, dull faith in ultimate good, and poison the spirit of self-sacrifice? One does not more surely destroy power of endurance and usefulness than the other.

We teachers work too much on the impulse of the moment; we count too seldom the aggregate of our deeds; we too often forget that present satisfaction may bring future regret. Were we gifted with forethought, did we see the ultimate results of our acts, could we but silence the vanity and untruth of to-day-we should rarely display such discords between the actual and the ideal, never feel bitterness for past exertion of unwholesome influence, and our work would help our pupils toward that shining goal which is the hope of the future-symmetrical character.-New England Journal of Education.

EDUCATIONAL PRINCIPLES.

we endeavor to ascertain the mode by which human beings learn we soon perceive that one proceeds precisely as another; in other words, that the method is in accordance with a fixed principle. Hence, those who teach should proceed according to fixed principles. Among these fixed principles, in accordance with which intelligence acts, the one that appears most prominent is self-employment.

1. Unceasing Activity is the Index of Intelligence.-As soon as the child obtains the use of his eyes he employs them; when he can use his hands and feet he employs them. He needs constant watching. Once he sat on his mother's lap, now he glides down and is busy with his new found powers. The teacher must impress this law deep in her mind. She is not to think of the schoolroom as a place where the children are to be "kept still," no matter what tradition may have to say; nor as a place where reading, writing, etc., are to be taught but where the children are to exercise their activities.

2. Employ the Senses.-Many will admit children are active and need employment but they give inappropriate employment. They furnish occupation for the memory only. They put long rows of children on benches and set them to learning abstract things. Before he could read well, the writer was set to learn that "A had four sounds, as heard in fame, far, fall, fat; B has one sound, as heard in ebb; C has two sounds; is is soft before e, i, y, and hard before a, o, and u, etc." This was in accordance with the directions of the county superintendent, a man of learning and ability. "The pupils must be made thorough," was his main direction. "To be thorough" may be a maxim, but not a principle.

Let the teacher, then, who thinks of a school-room, not people it with children, all busy with a book, and herself at a desk overseeing them. But let her think of a company of children actively employing their senses. Childhood lives in the world of its senses; it is a work of time and development to create a world of ideas. No teacher can implant ideas; that the on-going development of the mind will do; a proper employment is what is needed. Here is the significance of the great discovery of Fræbel; so antagonistic was it to the popular idea of the school that he was called in his time "a fool," because he collected the children and played with them.

The

3. Proceed from the Known to the Unknown.-The foundation already laid in the mind at the earliest period is the power to attend to and interpret sensations. And so, at any period there is a solid ground or shore against which the new material must be impacted, and to which it adheres, and into which it grows. To know this state or condition of the mind is indispensable to the teacher, and besides, he must know how to go 'out into the unknown. child has never seen a hammer; when presented, he touches it, his mind seizes the sensation and acquires an idea; if similar to the sensations it has received in touching other bodies it notes it, or if unlike; if the latter, it proceeds to ascertain in what particular the unlikeness consists, etc. Then it proceeds to experiment with the hammer, and finds out it can pound with it better than with any other thing it has yet had. This becomes a known quality henceforth.

It is in this way the child acquires all information, and hence the first question this true teacher asks herself is, "What do these children know?" and then, "What is the appropriate knowledge for them next to acquire ?" And finally, "In what way shall this unknown be presented ?" Instead of education being that easy art, within the grasp of any young boy or girl that chooses to undertake it, it is really a difficult and intricate business. The teacher must study perpetually to know the secrets of the human mind, its modes of acquiring, using, and retaining knowledge.

(a.) There is a natural order in the procedure by which we educate. The teacher in calling up before her the exercises of a school, must not deem she has a real school when classes in reading, writing, etc., succeed each other. All this may happen and no education be imparted. The central point is the growth or development of the mind --on this the attention must be constantly fixed. The question is not are these children learning to read, but are their minds growing. The order to be chosen must be that which will develop the mind, add to its power, enlarge the faculties and encourage further progress. For example, you wish to teach the idea of a fraction (not how to operate with number fractions;) you take an apple and cut it into two parts; you take a stick and cut that, etc. The child learns that all things can be divided into parts; you ask him "Can I cut the sugar into parts?" He will answer "Yes." You wish next to show that halves are greater than thirds. You will proceed to cut an apple into halves; then one of equal size into thirds. Then comes the

question, “Which is the largest, this or that." Of course this step is dependent on the preceding one, and should follow and not precede it. So of all teaching.

It is important that two rules be noticed here. First, go step by step. That is, go so that a conclusion is dependent on what has gone before. Some imagine that to teach children the only thing needed is a miscellaneous collection of small thaughts—a mental hash—but no mistake is greater. And, second, the teacher must measure the amount of education the child is getting by his capacity to use. The child is not to be treated like an empty vessel to be filled. No person is so likely to be deceived as the routine teacher; she thinks a pupil is learning because she is laboriously imparting!

(b.) The subject to be presented for the thought of the pupil must be reduced to its elements. One difficulty is enough; two will distract the attention. Suppose it is numerical addition. The teacher writes the numbers under each other; this is enough for a lesson, perhaps for several lessons; begin with single figures; write two of these, one beneath the other; then three, then four, and so go on, until the pupil can do it without a distinct effort of thought or without bestowing attention upon it. Then write numbers of two figures; write two, then three, etc., etc.

No better illustration can be given than the art of painting with water colors. The artist puts in a wash of color, so thin that it is hardly different from the paper on which it is laid; when this is dry, i. e., incorporated with the paper, another is laid on, etc. The best artist is the one who grades the tints the most perfectly. To teach well, tint, tint, tint,

(d.) Ascertain the need of a term before the term is given. A child has seen a dog and knows its name; when he sees another dog he feels no need of a term. But show him a bird and he instantly cries "what is it?" This is the voice of nature. The procedure should be the same. You wish to teach him to use the terms noun and verb. It is in vain unless he recognizes a difference. To show him ice in a vessel and tell him it is ice and not let him ascertain that it is solid would not be an educative process. Yet, very much teaching is of this kind.

(e.) The order of nature must be followed in presenting subjects to the mind. To teach geography, begin with the ground under the feet of the scholar. To teach any subject, present the whole and direct attention to its parts. Explain the processes gradually. To show a pupil a piece of cotton, then to show him it can be twisted, then to explain the principle of weaving, and finally to exhibit cloth; then the great varieties of cloth—would not be in accordance with the natural order. We acquire knowledge in the reverse way; we learn a little of many things, then a little more of each, etc., etc.

(e.) Go over the ground many times. The common maxim or direction of repeating again and again is much abused. Repetition without thought or attention is hurtful. The boy learns to catch a ball by much practice, but he employs his powers at every repetition; nay, he uses more and more effort. For example, the child learned yesterday that some leaves have stipules; to-day the teacher will repeat the term, will ask for leaves with stipules. In succeed