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you try to make it stand still upon its edge." Was not the boy's understanding as well employed whilst he was thinking of this phænomenon, which he observed whilst he was beating his hoop, as it could possibly have been by the most learned preceptor?

When a pedantic schoolmaster sees a boy eagerly watching a paper kite, he observes, "What a pity it is that children cannot be made "to mind their grammar as well as their kites!" and he adds perhaps some peevish ejaculation on the natural idleness of boys, and on that pernicious love of play against which he is doomed to wage perpetual war. A man of sense will see the same sight with a different eye; in this pernicious love of play he will discern the symptoms of a love of science, and, instead of deploring the natural idleness of children, he will admire the activity which they display in the pursuit of knowledge. He will feel that it is his business to direct this activity, to furnish his pupil with materials for fresh combinations, to put him, or to let him put himself, in situations where he can make useful observations, and acquire that experience which cannot be bought, and which no masters can communicate.

It will not be beneath the dignity of a philosophic tutor to consider the different effects, which the most common plays of children have

the habits of the understanding and temper. upon Whoever has watched children putting together a dissected map, must have been amused with the trial between wit and judgment. The child who quickly perceives resemblances catches instantly at the first bit of the wooden map, that has a single hook or hollow that seems likely to answer his purpose; he makes perhaps twenty different trials before he hits upon the right combination; whilst the wary youth, who has been accustomed to observe differences, cautiously examines with his eye the whole outline before his hand begins to move; and, having exactly compared the two indentures, he joins them with sober confidence, more proud of never disgracing his judgment by a fruitless attempt, than ambitious of rapid success. He is slow, but sure, and wins the day.

There are some plays which require presence of mind, and which demand immediate attention to what is actually going forward, in which children capable of the greatest degree of abstract attention are most apt to be defective. They have many ideas, but none of them ready, and their knowledge is useless, because it is recollected perhaps but one moment too late. Could we in language suitably dignified describe the game of" birds, beasts, and fishes," we should venture to prescribe it as no very painful remedy for

these absent and abstracted personages. When the handkerchief or the ball is thrown, and when his beast's name is called for, the absent little philosopher is obliged to collect his scattered thoughts instantaneously, or else he exposes himself to the ridicule of naming perhaps a fish instead of a beast. To those children, who on the contrary are not sufficiently apt to abstract their attention, and who are what Bacon calls "birdwitted," we should recommend a solitaryboard. At the solitary-board they must withdraw their thoughts from all external objects, hear nothing that is said, and fix their attention solely upon the figure and the pegs before them, else they will never succeed; and if they make one errour in their calculations, they lose all their labour. Those who are precipitate, and not sufficiently attentive to the consequences of their own actions, may receive many salutary lessons at the draught or chess-board, happy if they can learn prudence and foresight by frequently losing the battle.

We are not quite so absurd as to imagine, that any great or permanent effects can be produced by such slight causes as a game at draughts, or at solitary-board, but the combination of a number of apparent trifles is not to be neglected in education.

We have never yet mentioned what will probably first occur to those who would invent employments for children. We have never mentioned those great delights to children, a spade, a hoe, a rake, a wheelbarrow. We hold all these in proper respect, but we did not sooner mention them, because, if introduced too early, they are useless. We must not expect that a boy of six or seven years old can find, for any length of time, sufficient daily occupation in a garden: he has not strength for hard labour; he can dig soft earth, he can weed groundsel, and other weeds which take no deep root; but after he has weeded his little garden, and sowed his seeds, there must be a suspension of his labours; frequently children, for want of something to do, when they have sowed flower-seeds in their crooked beds, dig up the hopes of the year to make a new walk, or to sink a well in their garden. We mention these things that parents may not be disappointed, or expect more from the occupation of a garden than it can at a very early age afford. A garden is an excellent resource for children, but they should have a variety of other occupations: rainy days, and frost and snow will come, and then children must be occupied within doors. We immediately think of a little set of carpenter's tools, to supply them with active amusement. Boys will probably be more

inclined to attempt making models than drawings of the furniture which appears to be the most easy to imitate; they will imagine, that if they had but tools, they could make boxes, and desks, and beds, and chests of drawers, and tables, and chairs innumerable. But, alas! these fond hopes are too soon dissipated. Suppose a boy of seven years old to be provided with a small set of carpenter's tools, his father thinks, perhaps, that he has made him completely happy; but a week afterwards the father finds dreadful marks of the file and saw upon his mahogany tables; the use of these tools is immediately interdicted until a bench shall be procured. Week after week passes away, till at length the frequently reiterated speech of, “Papa, you Papa, you bid me put you in mind about my bench, Papa!" has its effect, and the bench appears. Now the young carpenter thinks he is quite set up in the world, and projects carts and boxes, and reading-desks and writing-desks for himself and for his sisters, if he have any; but when he comes to the execution of his plans, what new difficulties, what new wants arise! the wood is too thick or too thin; it splits, or it cannot be cut with a knife; wire, nails, glue, and, above all, the means of heating the glue, are wanting. At last some frail machine, stuck together with pegs or pins, is produced, and the workman is usually either too much ridi