ing a distaste, if not absolute dislike, to study. The action of the mind upon real things, when first observed, and the subsequent adoption of the words used by others for the thing, is the groundwork of education, and not the memorizing of a list of (to the pupil) meaningless words; moreover, this natural method is much easier than the study of books.

The object and aim of this method is not only to open the intellect to science, but to moral beauty, the primary idea to be inculcated; and if the principle of love pervade the school, we all know that the instruction will not only be pleasant, but the impression will also be permanent. The same principle should also pervade their plays, which should be frequently interspersed with their studies.

Give the child something to think about, something that will attract his attention, and then, kindly and in simple language, answer the questions he will ask, and be not afraid of repetition, for that will be a consequence of the information given, coupled with a desire to fully understand the explanation. If the object presented be a fly, the child's attention is called to its wings, their beauty and arrangement, and how swiftly by their use it moves through the air; to its legs and feet, showing how it walks upon the ceiling or on the smooth glass of the window; to its eyes, so large in proportion to its body, and its quickness of perception, and to various other peculiarities of the insect. This information will elicit many questions from the young observer, which, if properly answered, will afford material for such thought as will fix the information thus gained indelibly on the mind.

If the object be a watch, explanations as to the shape, size, material, etc., the maker and the use of the watch may be given, not all at the same time, for that would confuse, rather than enlighten, but at intervals, interspersed with amusement, which may be illustrative of the thoughts drawn out from the child; then, the distinctive characteristics of the fly and the watch may be pointed out, as that a fly is an animated being, made by the great Creator; that all its actions are voluntary and free, adding many other particulars interesting to the young mind; while the watch is a machine, inanimate, made by a man, himself created by the same great Author, and furnished with a mind similar to that of the child. The watch, although all its parts are curious, and adapted to perform their work, can move only as it is impelled by the spring, and that in a fixed routine. These and many other thoughts may be communicated as

opportunities offer, the child being encouraged to tell in the mean time what he knows or can recollect about the different objects which have been presented to him.

While this is progressing, the child can be taught to read, spell and write, and as an inducement to do this he may be encouraged to write out, in his own simple language, descriptions of what he has seen, which will thus be preserved for future use and his own gratification.

Again, a number of objects of similar kinds, as boxes of marbles, crayons, pencils, pins, etc., may be counted separately, then combined and the sum ascertained; a part of each may be taken away and the sum of the remainder found; with a great variety of other exercises that will teach the child to add, subtract, multiply and divide, and afterward by regular steps proceed to the more advanced principles of mathematics.

The pupil may now be required, for hitherto he has only been led on, to relate his thoughts orally, as to what he has seen or done, or heard of others doing, and also to write out short descriptions of the same, and the conclusions he has arrived at in his own mind; thus affording a clue for the instructor to lead the pupil to consider his duty to his parents and associates, to the world around him, and to his God.

At the same time, the beauty, harmony, magnitude and regularity of the works of creation before him, as well as the usefulness of each separate part so admirably fitted to carry out the design of the great Creator, will fill the mind of the pupil with that indescribable emotion of awe and love, as he contemplates the order and sublimity of all, which cannot but lead him to cheerful obedience and a strict conformity to the precepts hitherto inculcated, and enable virtue to affix her seal.

All this has been accomplished, not in the regular routine of the school-room, and under the eye of a master, too often feared rather than loved, nor as an imposed task, but interspersed with amusement (if this be not amusement altogether), and in company with a loved teacher and friend, both having, in their pleasant rambles, felt the invigorating influence of the fresh breeze and the hearty laugh to inspirit them for renewed effort. In this connection, permit me to say that the teacher should join in the plays and encourage the pupils in them, if he would cement the bonds of love that bind heart to heart, especially the heart of the young to a kind, faithful, sympathiz

ing teacher. In addition, let them take short excursions; if they are in cities, go into and around the parks and wander on the banks of a river, if there be any; if in the country, they can ramble over the hills or climb the rugged cliffs on the mountain side, wade the brooks, drink from the gushing springs, watch the shining fish in the rivulets as they glide along the bottom among the pebbles, chase the squirrels or butterflies-but not to injure or destroy them-notice the plants and flowers, pick handsful of them, fill their baskets with shining pebbles, secure insects or worms, and carry them home as materials for future examinations and instructive lessons.

In this way the pupil will, before long, acquire habits of close observation and correct reasoning, at the same time that he is collecting a cabinet in natural history, and his mind will be stored with useful knowledge, instead of the enervating, exciting literature too often seen upon the tables and shelves of our dwellings, while the attractions of the billard-rooms, and others far more hurtful, will pass by as the idle wind.

Since writing the foregoing, an article in the Boston Journal of Chemistry, on the Sunbeam, came under my observation, in which is described the action of the sunbeam on various objects, and the unperceived action on others, as for instance, on the most delicate slip of gold leaf, which is not stirred a hair's breadth, though the faintest breath of an infant will cause a tremulous motion; on the extremely sensitive retina of the eye, which, though buffeted each moment by thousands of sunbeams, suffers no pain, but rejoices in the light. Yet a few of those rays insinuating themselves into a mass of iron, will compel the compact particles to separate, and thus move immense buildings, bridges, etc., with as much ease as a giant would a straw. So is their effect upon water, causing the particles to ascend in mists, which fall again in snow and rain, giving fertility to vegetation; also, upon the atmosphere, producing gentle zephyrs, or furious destructive hurricanes.

All this, I would remark, is illustrative of the effects of the natural method of education of which I have been speaking. By thus gently leading the young mind and drawing out its powers without weariness, and enlarging its sphere, a higher standard is gained than by the process of cramming, or driving in, so often distasteful, and sometimes absolutely repulsive. In the latter case, the mind loathes the school-room, and rejoices to be freed from its rigid rules; in the former, it welcomes the teacher and his lessons each returning morn,

THE PROPER CONSTRUCTION OF AN ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

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BY AMOS BROWN, LL.D.,

Formerly President of the People's College.

Of language, much has been written. Its nature, design and combinations have been carefully stated. Its history has been narrated, and its practical workings have been expounded. Few subjects have received greater regard than this, or have been more critically dealt with. Yet still, language, in some of its phases, is a ground of dispute. As on other subjects, so on this, investigators separate themselves as judgment or fancy may dictate.

I have no new theory to propound (nor current one to defend) of the origin or uses of this important agent. If inclination prompted to such efforts, these are topics, it is sufficient to remember, which would demand, for elucidation and defense, elaborate attention. I have, however, some thoughts on the correct mode of teaching the grammar of the English language, which, by permission, I shall attempt to discuss.

On all hands it is declared that our grammars, in present use, are imperfect. Most of them, it is said, are a weariness to both teachers and pupils. In some instances parents decline to let their children meddle with them. In others, they permit them to do this as a matter of form only, or in compliance with school regulations.

Out of what has grown this evil? Not, surely, indifference to their undertakings, on the part of the authors of many of these manuals; nor from want of confidence in the capacity employed in the preparation of these works. Lowth and Murray and Webster are names universally distinguished. They were men of high literary attainments; in many respects they were the peers of the ablest thinkers and ripest scholars of their times. The origin of the evil is not here. "If you open the grammars," said Victor Cousin, "you will find that they all begin with the elements and go to propositions. But, in reality, the process is not so. When the mind translates itself into language, the primary expressions of its judgments are, like the judgments themselves, concrete and synthetic. Faithful images of

the development of mind, language begins not by words, but by phrases, by propositions very complex.”.

"Words," said Frederic A. Rauch, "do not originate singly and disconnected, so that we carried single words in our memory, and then united them like cents to make a dollar. But words originate in connection with each other, in sentences.'

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"Perception," said Sir William Hamilton, commences with masses. Having first acquired a comprehensive knowledge of an object as a whole, we descend to its several parts, consider them both in themselves, and in relation to each other, and to the whole of which they are constituents; and thus we attain to a complete articulate knowledge of the object. We decompose and then we recompose.

“I say, then, that the first procedure of mind in the elaboration of its knowledge, is always analytical. It descends from the whole to the parts, from the vague to the definite. Definitude, that is, a knowledge of minute differences is not the first but the last term of our cognitions."

In a critical article of the North American Review, for July, 1868, the author of the article says: "Our English grammars give us but a narrow and imperfect view of the real structure of the language. They are occupied chiefly with the so-called parts of speech, and treat of them in their relation to one another, and not in relation to the sentence. But the frame-work of the language does not lie in the parts of speech and their grammatical relations. In all this, there is no structure, no complete whole. To speak the English language correctly, is not simply to arrange words according to their grammatical connection, but to construct with accuracy your propositions, and combine them into their compound forms according to the logical relations of the thoughts which they express, and in the modes which are recognized in the usage of the language. How to do this is the great question in any speech, for here you come at its real structure."

The unsatisfactory character of our English grammars, so generally admitted, I am, then, ready to believe—assuming, as I do, the entire correctness of the opinions inculcated in these foregoing extracts-has its origin chiefly in the mistaken method of their construction; in their attempts to show the nature and relations to each other of the parts of a whole, when properly their attempts would have been to impart first a just notion of their object as a whole, and then of the several parts, and their relations to that whole and to each other.