MODERN EDUCATION.

DIALOGUE BETWEEN A PRECEPTOR OF AN ACADEMY, AND PARENT OF AN OFFERED PUPIL.

Preceptor. I AM heartily sick of this modern mode

[Solus.] of education. Nothing but trash will suit the taste of people at this day. I am perplexed beyond all endurance with these frequent solicitations of parents, to give their children graceful airs, polite accomplishments, and a smattering of what they call the fine arts; while nothing is said about teaching them the substantial branches of literature. If they can but dance a little, fiddle a little, flute a little and make a handsome bow and courtesy, that is sufficient to make them famous, in this enlightened age. Three fourths of the teachers of those arts, which once were esteemed most valuable, will soon be out of employment, at this ratę. For my part, I am convinced, that, if I had been a dancing master, music master, stage player, or mountebank, I should have been much more respected, and much better supported, than I am at present.

Enter PARENT.

Parent. Your humble servant, Sir! are you the principal of this Academy?

Precep. I am, at your service, Sir.

Par. I have heard much of the fame of your institution, and am desirous of putting a son, of about twelve years of age, under your tuition. I suppose you have masters who teach the various branches of the polite arts.

Precep. We are not inattentive to those arts, Sir; but the fame of our Academy does not rest upon them. Useful learning is our grand object. What studies do you wish to put your son upon?

Par. I wish him to be perfected in music, dancing, dra.ing, &c. and as he possesses a promising genius for poetry, I would by all means have that cultivated.

Precep

Precep. These are not all the branches, I trust, in which he is to be instructed. You mention nothing of reading, writing, arithmetic, language, &c. Are these to be wholly neglected?

Par. Why, as to these every-day branches, I cannot say I feel very anxious about them. The boy reads well now; writes a decent hand; is acquainted with the ground rules of arithmetic, and pronounces the English language genteelly. He has been a long time under the care of Mr. Honestus, our town schoolmaster, who has taught him all these things sufficiently. So that I think any more time devoted to them would be wasted.

Precep. If he is such an adept that there is no room for his progressing in those arts; yet I think, at least, there is need of practice, lest, at his age, he should forget what he has learned.

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Par. That I shall leave to your discretion. But there is one branch, of great importance, which I have not yet mentioned, and to which I would have particular attention paid: I mean ert of speaking. You will respect; though perhaps 5 Inake one perfect in that, e has already learned by neart a great number of pieces, and has acted a part in several comedies and tragedies with much applause. It has been the custom of our master to have an exhibition at least once a quarter; and my son has always been considered as one of his best performers. He lately took the part of Jemmy Jumps, in the farce called The Farmer, and acted it to universal acceptation.

Precep. I must confess, Sir, that your account of your son does not appear to me to be very flattering. Par. Why so, pray? have you not an ear for elo quence ?

Precep. Indeed I have, Sir. No man is mon charmed than I am with its enrapturing sounds. N music rests sweeter on my ear than the melodious notes proceeding from the mouth of a judicious, well-instruc

ed, and powerful orator. But I must tell you plainly, that I am by no means pleased to see parents take so much pains to transform their children into monkies: instead of men. What signs of oratory do you imagine you can discern in a boy, rigged out in a fantastical, dress, skipping about the stage like a baboon, in the character of Jemmy Jumps, Betty Jumps, or any other Jumper?

Par. Do you not approve of exhibitions then?

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Precep. Not much, I confess, in the way they are generally conducted. A master, who has four in year, must necessarily rob his pupils of one quarter of that time, which, in my opinion, might be much better employed in attending, to what would be useful for them in life.

Par. What can be more useful for a child, under such a government as ours, than to be able to speak before an audience with a graceful ease, and a manful dignity? My son, for aught I know, may be a member of Congress befere he dies.

Precep. For that very reason I would educate him differently. I would lay the foundation of his future fame on the firm basis of the solid sciences; that he might be able in time to do something more than a mere parrot, or an ape, who are capable only of speaking the words and mimicking the actions of others. He should first be taught to read. He should likewise be taught to compose for himself; and I would not be wanting in my endeavours to make him a speaker.

Par. Surely, Mr. Preceptor, you must be very wrong in your notions. I have ever pursued a different plan with my children; and there are none in the country, though I say it myself, who are more universally caressed. I have a daughter that has seen but foureen years, who is capable of gracing the politest ircles. It is allowed that she can enter, and leave a oom, with as much ease and dignity as any lady of quality whatever. And this is evidently owing altoether to her polite education. I boarded her a year

in the capital, where she enjoyed every possible advan tage. She attended the most accomplished masters in the ornamental branches of science; visited the genteelest families, and frequented all the scenes of amuse ment. It is true, her letters are not always written quite so accurately as could be wished; yet she dances well, plays well on a piano-forte, and sings like a nightingale.

Precep. Does she know the art of making a good pudding? Can she darn a stocking well? or is she ca pable of patching the elbows of her husband's coat, should she ever be so lucky as to get one? If she is to remain ignorant of all such domestic employments, as much as I value her other accomplishments, and as much as I might be in want of a wife, I would not marry her with twice her weight in gold.

Par. Her accomplishments will command ber a husband as soon as she wishes. But so long as a single cent of my property remains, her delicate hands shall never be so unworthily employed.

Precep. But suppose a reverse of fortune should overtake you, what is to become of the child; as you say she understands nothing of domestic affairs? Will it be more honorable, do you imagine, for her to be maintained by the charity of the people, than by her own industry?

Par. There are many ways for her to be supported. I would not have you think she is wholly ignorant of the use of the needle, though she never employed it in so disgraceful a manner as that of darning stockings! or of botching tattered garments! But we will wave that subject, and attend to the other. Will you receive the boy for the purposes before mentioned?

Precep. Why, indeed, Sir, I cannot. Though am far from condemning altogether your favourite branches, yet I consider them all as subordinate, and some of them, at least, totally useless. We devote bu a small portion of our time to the attainment of suc superficial accomplishments. I would therefore recom

mend it to you, to commit him to the care of those persons, who have been so successful in the instruction of his sister.

Par. I confess I am so far convinced of the propriety of your method, that, if you will admit him into your Academy, I will renounce all right of dictating to you his lessons of instruction, except in one single instance; and in that I am persuaded we shall not disagree; I mean the art of speaking.

Precep. I shall agree to that only under certain limitations. That is an art which undoubtedly demands our solicitous attention; but it ought never to be pursued to the injury of other studies. I am sensible that it is no less useful to a pupil than entertaining to an audience, to exercise him occasionally on the stage in declaiming judicious and well-written compositions, and pronouncing such selected dialogues, as will tend to give gracefulness to his attitude, and familiarity to his tones and gestures. But, admitting that time could be spared from more important pursuits, I see but little good resulting from the exhibition of whole comedies and tragedies in our academies and schools; while much evil is to be feared, both from the immorality of the plays, and the dissipation it introduces into society. Besides, all boys are not calculated for orators; and though Demosthenes surmounted almost insuperable difficulties in the acquirement of his art, it is folly to suppose that his example is capable of universal imitation. I cannot believe it a very pleasing entertainment to a discerning audience, to see a boy without talents, mounted upon the rostrum, spouting forth sentences which he does not understand, and which, perhaps, are chosen with as little judgment as they are delivered with propriety. But what can be more disgusting than to see innocent, and timid females, whose excellence, in part consists in their modesty, and silence beforé superiours, encouraged to reverse the order of nature, by playing the orator on a public stage! And what often enhances our disgust, and sickens all our feelings,

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