whose minds, great as they were by nature, were cultivated by a proper blending of linguistic and mathematical studies.

Seriously, we deny that memory only is improved by linguistic study. Memory only may be employed in this, as it may in mathematics. But he is no more a linguist who commits to memory the words of Virgil and their meanings, than he is a mathematician who commits the demonstrations of Euclid. It is the philosophy of language that we aim at in the study of Latin and Greek, and the cultivation of the higher powers of the mind. Linguistic study can not create mental powers where they are wanting, any more than the grindstone will improve the temper of an axe, or chisel; but what of power there is, it will sharpen and fit for use.

Let us for instance trace the operation of the mind in the investigation of one sentence in Latin. It may consist of twenty words, and each word may have ten different meanings, but only one, in that sentence. The question is, what was the thought in the writer's mind? The sentence must be compared with what precedes and what follows, to know what it would be likely to mean. These two hundred meanings must then be examined and collated, and a great many nice questions considered, to determine which meaning will best suit each word. Here is research, a collation of facts and circumstances, a balancing of probabilities, and an appeal to reason and common sense, faculties employed in the every-day concerns of life.

Hugh Miller in his 'Foot Prints of the Creator,' exercised the same faculties of the mind that are concerned in the investigation of the meaning of a sentence in a dead language. Can it be memory alone? Now if this operation be repeated from twenty to fifty times a day, for two or three years, it must result in important intellect

ual culture. Some suppose that in studying a dead language, it is that language we are seeking. By no means. What we seek, is to come at thoughts, through the Latin for instance, and then to express them in good, plain English. This was Cicero's idea. He practiced oratory by learning Greek orations, and declaiming or speaking the thoughts in Latin; and he was something more than a semi-idiot.

B.' in effect says, why not drill upon something useful, as Addison's writings? But it seems to us, that the idea of Jupiter being changed to a bull, and swimming across the Bosphorus with Europa on his back, is quite as useful as that of Addison's lady in hoops being upset in the street by the wind, and found there, feet uppermost.

Many great minds are referred to by 'B.' which became so without the study of language. Yet if the truth were known, they were subjected to a drill not less irksome than that of the Latin student. Imagine Franklin rummaging his dictionary to find out the meaning of Addison's words, thus spending days and nights over him. Think of Cobbett writing out the whole of Lowth's Grammar three times, committing it all to memory, and repeating it twice a day during the year 1784. Think too of Demosthenes writing out the whole of Thucydides's history eight times for his own improvement. Such men may be great without linguistic study, but perhaps might have been greater with it. At all events the Latin in our common schools would be far more practicable for discipline than any of the substitutes suggested. It is possible to sharpen an axe with a whetstone, but this is no good reason for throwing away the grindstone.

'B.' attempts to refute the idea that Latin aids in giving a knowledge of English. No one denies the possibility of learning English without Latin. But we

unhesitatingly assert from experience and observation that it can be learned quicker and better with, than without it. Latin is most important, Greek next. Other languages are much less important in this respect. About one-third of our words are. radical English or Anglo-Saxon, and are understood by every child that can talk. For so much, the Latin will be no help. Another third is from Latin, and can not be known radically without knowing Latin. It will take the pupil longer to learn them superficially by the dictionary, than radically through the Latin. About one-sixth may come from Greek, and to this part the same remark will apply as to the Latin; but its importance is of course less, as the number of Greek words in our language is less.

I earnestly entreat the superintendents, teachers, and directors of common schools in Ohio, not to let 'B.'s' plausible argument against devoting twenty years of life to the study of classics, prevent them from urging their pupils, between ten and fourteen, to devote at least two years, partially to the grammatical study of Latin. The former might prevent learning many useful things, while the latter would be a mind-sharpening, and time and labor-saving process. In this way it may be ascertained who have an 'aptitude for classics.' Such can pursue it and others let it alone. Upon B.'s' principle, how are students to ascertain their tastes or powers? His advice would seem to be, not to touch the water without an ability to swim. N. B.

Perhaps the most radical, if not the most unfortunate, mistake the teacher can make, is that of placing knowledge before discipline-seeking to store the mind with facts rather than to strengthen its powers and widen and deepen its capacity. And especially is this misconception of the teacher's function-this oversight of a cardinal principle-unfortunate in its application to the study of Geography: for of all the branches of the common school course of instruction there is no other that can be made to bring into action at so early an age, and with such complete success, so great a number of the mental faculties. In proof of this latter statement it is proposed to notice, briefly, the relations of geographical studies when properly pursued to pri

mary instruction rightly understood: also we shall endeavor to indicate such methods as promise for the pupil the greatest success, which is the teacher's highest reward.

Omitting then, to speak of the science in reference to the valuable information it may impart, let us examine it as a means or instrument of mental culture, and in the light of the educational axiom, that the claims of any subject to excellence as a means of primary intellectual culture, are proportioned to the interesting nature of the facts it embodies, the simplicity of the elements to which its principles may be reduced, and the number and importance of the faculties of the mind upon which it may be brought to bear.

Geography, in its fullest extent, may be

arranged for our purpose under two general heads, to wit: 1st, Descriptive, embracing a description of the natural and political divisions, statistical, historical* and the more elementary principles of mathematical geography; and 2d, Physical, including mathematical, climatic, botanical, zoological and ethnological geography.

From this classification it will appear that the subjects embraced in the first division address themselves to such of our perceptive faculties as give us notions of form, size, direction and distance, or relative position, number, extension, etc. Besides they should call into abundant exercise the memory, the imagination, the powers of abstraction; and, withal, that prime essential of mental habits, attention, may here be thoroughly cultivated. To show that too much is not claimed, and further to accomplish the design of the present paper, it will be proper to compare the several methods, with their merits and demerits, by which is taught Descriptive Geography, including under this head the sub-divisions mentioned above.

Were we to-day to enter some one of the thousands of school cabins which hide their humility in our maple or locust groves, or publish their shame at our highway crossings, we might find perhaps the geography recitation in progress something after this fashion master with book in hand to follow the author's questions, and map before him to prove the pupils' answers; pupil with book wide open to anticipate the question and look up the answer from the map, by the time his turn comes round.

Of course

such a class has been taught that the earth is very like an orange, and all ideas of the equator are quite as imaginary as need be. It is difficult to see what mental disci

*It is a question with teachers how far geography should enter into history; yet, for manifest reasons, we think no one would discard it in toto.

pline there can be in such a palpable farce on education. There seems to be required only a ready apprehension of strange names on colored paper. To say nothing of the sacrifice of time necessary to acquire even a few facts, and the ruinous mental habits formed, we think there is the least possible modicum of culture in the process.

Another master-for teacher were a sad misnomer here—will remove the book from the pupil's hand, though the atlas is still before him. The scholar is thus made a little more reliant on his memory, especially if prompt answers are required, and a greater degree of care and attention is insured in the preparation of the lesson. Yet a lesson so prepared and so recited, can hardly fail to be as barren of really good results as devoid of interest for, and adaptation to, the infant mind.

Another step, and a greater one, in advance, is to exclude both geography and atlas from the class at recitation, and require it to recite memoriter. Such a recitation, if perfect, is, to many, conclusive evidence that the ne plus ultra of success in geographical instruction has been attained, and no farther attempt at improvement is contemplated. A class so instructed could not probably point across the fields to the locality of a single distant city, mark out on the ground the course of a single river, or give the comparative sizes and populations of any two States in different quarters of the globe. However, such a system, or rather such a requirement from the pupil-for it is not a system-possesses advantages over the others mentioned; advantages, though, accidental rather than designed and in no way reflecting credit upon the teacher. The preparation, here, for recitation is not, as would seem at first sight, a mere memorative exercise: for where there is such a multitude of facts to be acquired and retained, the very necessities of the case are

such as to drive the mind to certain intellectual expedients which are highly conducive to intellectual development. The great complaint we have to make, is that the teacher (?) does not encourage and direct these intellectual efforts to more systematic, and hence more successful endeavor. The human mind is eminently a labor saving agent, and, if not always ready to jump at conclusions, yet, if not drilled to treadmill operating, it will generally be found seeking the shortest path by which to arrive at them. Hence we find that the child, who is expected to memorize a lesson in geography, is ever seeking to aid the memory by the various associations of form, size, direction, distance, and in general the several elements of relative position. This is really the true method, and it is only by, the happy resort of the child to this true philosophy, that he is at all profited, educationally speaking, by the study of geography. We can, however, by no means indorse such a method of instruction. In the first place the very advantages referred to-chiefly, the habit formed of learning associated facts by their associations are the very things which should engross the teacher's attention; and yet they are the very things to which he pays no attention at all: leaving the quicker minds to guess their way darkly, as it were through the obscurities and intricacies of an untraveled forest, while the others must be saddled on the willing, but plodding packhorse, memory, and be compelled to take the beaten but discouragingly circuitous route which seldom fails to exhaust the youthful traveler and leave him dispirited by the way-side. Again, where geography is thus taught there is little or no adaptation to the variety of mind to be wrought upon. The teacher follows the book, which he is apt to make a Procrustean bed, stretching such as are too short, and cutting off the legs of those who are too long. Again, no system

of exclusively book instruction is ever adapted to the wants of primary scholars; a ready, wide-awake, lively interest, such as can be induced only by the oral instructor, always being indispensable to their successful edification.

And this brings us to the consideration of another method, of late become rife in many of our graded schools. I refer to Oral Instruction, a method admirably adapted to command the attention, elicit the interest, and impress upon the minds of the younger pupils numerous and important geographical facts and principles. Also, with a skillful instructor, it may be made to promote very considerably the development of important faculties. As a means of awakening an interest, there is probably no better way: yet the teacher is ever liable to do too much, and forget that while his pupils are tripping along so gaily at his side he himself is bearing the burden they ought to carry. Oral teaching should, then, be made preparatory and auxiliary to the more laborious as well as more profitable exercise of class preparation; and even then, to secure the richest results, it needs to be combined with another indispensable exercise, of which, however, we shall soon speak, under another head.

But, first, a passing word on the Singing Method. Here we find geographical facts arranged in verse and set to popular music, by the repeated singing of which much geographical knowledge is acquired. As a mere mnemonic system, the idea is based upon a true philosophy,-metre being one of the readiest aids to the memory, and music having special charms for children: and hence we are not unprepared for the singing geographer's boast, that he can teach more geography in twenty lessons, than is taught in six months by the ordinary school methods. But unfortunately for the educational utility of the system, beautiful as it may seem, and suit