An Association, whose great object is to be practically useful, will naturally first direct its attention to the prevalent errors of the day. Among these, there are few more prominent, than the multiplicity and variety of new schemes for education, and the extravagant importance attached to many of them by their respective adherents. It is probably owing to the intense interest felt in this subject, that many, impatient of the slow process of accumulating facts by observation and experiment, the only one, by which a science, worthy of the name, can be established, have published systems founded on their own solitary experience, or on assumed principles. And to the same cause we may ascribe the extravagant zeal, with which those systems have often been supported. One practical disadvantage resulting from this is, that it sometimes causes particular modes and processes of education, which really possess intrinsic merit, to be misapplied or carried beyond their just limits, thus immediately producing inconvenience, and tending ultimately to bring that merit into question. To teach writing by means of the black board, directing the pupil to copy, with his pen, the letters inscribed upon it, reducing their size but preserving their proportions, seems to be a misapplication of that useful instrument. And however excellent the system of mental arithmetic, as it is called, may be as a discipline for the minds of children, surely they exaggerate its importance, who would make it a complete substitute for the five good old rules. Another disadvantage occasioned by an undue attachment to general systems is, that it tends to withdraw the attention too much from the personal qualifications of teachers, which must always, or at least in the present state of the science, be far more important than the mode of instruction. Let me not be understood to represent all systems as equal or unimportant. The arguments, which have been urged to that effect, are by no means satisfactory. True it is that no system can counteract the diversities of natural talent, or prevent the operation of those unforeseen and uncontrollable accidents, which occasionally defeat all our precautions. But what then? Since the seed is cast abroad on every variety of soil, it may sometimes fall among weeds, at the roadside, or upon the rock; and sometimes its fruit, even when it appears whitening for harvest, may be destroyed by a secret defect, or by an unexpected calamity; and thus the toil of the husbandman may be rendered vain. But who shall therefore say, that his art is futile?

But the multiplicity and variety of the schemes suggested for the improvement of education may be productive of much good, if the operation of each be regarded as a series of experiments, of which the precise results are to be observed and recorded as facts conducive to the improvement of the science. And in this point of view, the zeal and enthusiasm with which they are supported, may be regarded as useful, tending to exhibit more completely. whatever of truth they contain, and to make their results, be their

character what it may, more conspicuous and decisive. A service may be thus rendered to the world like that rendered to it by the obstinate perseverance of the alchymists; which, though it did not lead to the discovery of the philosopher's stone they sought for, yet contributed not a little to the production of a treasure far more precious to mankind, the science of chemistry.

So far is education from having yet attained the character of a science, that men, eminent men, are not yet agreed as to its object. Milton proposes it as the aim of the scheme recommended by him, "to fit a man to perform justly, skilfully and magnanimously all the offices, both private and public, of peace and war." A glorious vision, and well worthy of the lofty imagination of its author; but incapable of being realized among any civilized people. The savage may indeed master all the knowledge of his tribe, and fit himself for all its offices. But as society becomes cultivated and refined, the various offices of peace and war become more and more numerous, diversified and difficult, till it is altogether impossible for any one man, in the course of a long life, to fit himself for them all, or even for any considerable portion of them. Reduced within narrower limits, this scheme would be substantially the same, as that, which proposes for its object, the complete and harmonious development of all the faculties. If this be understood, in its obvious sense, to mean, that the human faculties should be developed in a certain fixed relation to each other, under all circumstances, and that a man should be trained up so as to become a perfectly symmetrical being, entire and self-dependent, it seems hardly less visionary than the plan of Milton. And to what end should this be done, since the various avocations of different individuals, by calling into exercise various faculties, must speedily destroy this perfect symmetry in each? If however, we understand it, as perhaps we should do, to mean only, that each faculty should be so far developed, as to be capable at all times of healthy and vigorous action, this is undoubtedly the first object of early education, both private and public. It may be and often is combined with that of communicating the knowledge most important to be remembered. But I do not know that this connexion is invariable, and that the knowledge most likely to be useful in after life is that, which will, in all cases, best exercise the faculties of youth. All analogy is against such an assumption. In gymnastics, which are admitted to develope and invigorate the powers of the body more uniformly and effectually than the ordinary occupations of life, much is learned, which there is no expectation of practising afterwards. And besides, for two persons in similar situations and destined to the same pursuit, the same knowledge must be equally useful, and yet their minds, from some difference, original or acquired, may need very different discipline. Let any man moreover reflect, how very

much of his habits of thought and of action, of study, of feeling, and of self-control, can be traced back to the days of his boyhood; and how very little of his knowledge.

But the education, which accomplishes no more, than to bring the faculties of the body and the mind into a healthy state, is equally adapted to all times and places; and has little else to do, than to remove improper restraints; since all these faculties, if secured from pernicious influences and allowed free opportunity for exercise, will grow up, in the ordinary course of nature, in a healthy and vigorous state, under almost any circumstances. If it were possible to suppose, that education should stop here, and send forth its pupil with a healthy body and a healthy mind, but altogether uninstructed, he would be equally fit, or rather equally unfit for any state of society. It must go further. It must qualify him to hold a place in the particular community, in which his lot is cast. Now in this view of education, is regard to be had mainly to the benefit of the individual or to the benefit of society;-to his cultivation and improvement as an insulated being, or to the advantage of the community in which he lives?

This is the question. It seems to have been originally suggested by a consideration of the effect of what is called the division of labor in mechanical pursuits, which is to render each individual better fitted for his particular task, and less fitted for any other, while the advantage resulting to society from this harmonious combination of the labors of all is inconceivably greater than would have been produced by the aggregation of the independent labors of each. It is often understood, with too much reference to the case, which suggested it, as a question between the general intellectual improvement of the individual, and his attaining such skill in his particular occupation, as may most advance the wealth of the community. If it be thus understood, the whole aim of our systems and institutions should be to promote the improvement of the individual. But this is altogether too narrow a view of the subject. It ought to be considered, on the one hand, that the individual is to be fitted, by education, not merely for his art or profession, but for all his social duties; and, on the other, that the advantage of society does not consist in wealth alone, but in the improvement and happiness of all its members; and viewed in this light, the difference between aiming at the one and at the other, becomes so minute, as to be almost evanescent, and to render it a matter of little practical importance how the question is decided.

It ought also to be considered, that the mind is not confined to one narrow and precise path, in which alone it can move with ease and safety; but that it may engage in any one of a multitude of pursuits, and may exercise and improve mainly any one of its faculties, if not without diminishing that exact symmetry, which constitutes ideal perfection, yet, at least, without impairing that healthy

and vigorous action, which is the only practical good to be attained under any system. Happy for us that it is so; for so various are the states of society and the conditions of life, in which men are placed, that occupations, at one time essential to the happiness, and even to the safety of the individual and of the community, are rendered entirely superfluous by a change of circumstances; and other occupations, calling into exercise and mainly developing different faculties, become all-important.

Since then a great variety of pursuits, appropriate to all possible varieties of human condition, are all equally compatible with the improvement and happiness of men considered as individuals, this seems too indefinite an end to be proposed as the precise object of a distinct science. The great aim therefore, as it seems to me, of the science of education, at least of intellectual education, to which my remarks on this occasion mainly refer, is to promote the advantage of society, to train up men in the knowledge and to the pursuits most useful to the community, in which they are destined to live.

But what is useful knowledge? And what are useful pursuits? No term has been more abused, in treating of education, than this word Utility. In a large and liberal sense, it is indeed the whole object of education. Men should be taught nothing but what is useful, practically useful. And in reasoning from this principle, we shall fall into no error, if we always use the word in this sense. But if the term "practically useful" be confined, as it has sometimes been, to those occupations, which tend to supply our physical wants merely, then utility is not the sole, nor even the highest object of education. Undoubtedly, when the acquisition of the means of subsistence comes into direct competition with the acquisition of anything else, so that one of them only can be enjoyed, the former must be preferred, and every possible exertion must be made to secure it. But to suppose, that our exertions are to terminate here, is to mistake the means of living for the end of life. We must indeed have food, and shelter, and clothing, in order to live. But wherefore do we live? Surely not to accumulate more of these than we can possibly make use of. There would be neither utility nor enjoyment in this. Probably there never was a community, in which all the efforts of its members were constantly requisite to supply their own physical wants. Certainly we are not such a one. The dictate of nature to the individual is the rule for society. He is impelled to satisfy his bodily wants by irresistible instinct. But this done, he is impelled to exercise and indulge his intellectual faculties by a craving as instinctive and as irresistible as the cravings of the body. He is conscious that by this indulgence and exercise, those faculties are nourished, strengthened and exalted; and he feels that in gratifying and improving

them, he is enjoying the purest pleasure. He knows also, that he is thus fulfilling one of his highest duties; for there is a voice. within, which tells him so, independently of all reasoning. It is true indeed, that these faculties might be employed by him in cultivating the arts, which tend ultimately to promote physical comfort alone. But it is neither possible nor desirable, that the thoughts and the labors of all men should be devoted to this single object. The result would be to heap up more of their productions than could possibly be consumed. These arts, it is admitted, must first be sufficiently provided for. And the persons engaged in them are certainly usefully employed. But not more usefully, nor more practically in any just sense of the term, than those who are engaged in pursuits, the only aim of which is to satisfy our intellectual wants, and improve our intellectual nature.

These positions seem hardly to need illustration. But the want of a distinct apprehension of them has led to serious mistakes with regard to the proper objects of education, and especially to an erroneous estimate of the value of classical learning. It may therefore be not inappropriate to illustrate them by shewing their application to this branch of knowledge.

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The structure of the human frame alone is sufficient to shew, notwithstanding the speculations of the Philosophers, that the social state is the state of nature. The human mind proves this still more strongly. Its necessary food, that which it craves and by which it is nourished, is intercourse with other minds. By his intellectual nature man is not only united with his contemporaries, but bound up into one great society with his whole race. connected with the past and with the future. He can "hold high converse with the mighty dead," and send down his own voice to the remotest generations. His highest privilege and enjoyment is to associate with those distinguished by moral and intellectual excellence, either in his own age or in preceding times. Hence the value of an acquaintance with those ancient writers, who have been pronounced by the unanimous opinion of subsequent generations to be the light and the glory of our race; "by the diligent perusal of whose works, men are led and drawn in willing obedience, inflamed with the study of learning and the admiration of virtue; stirred up with high hopes of living to be brave men and worthy patriots, dear to God and famous to all ages."

But I will not dwell on these general considerations, simply remarking, that to call studying the works of these men learning Greek and Latin, is as preposterous, as it would be to call the study of Locke and Milton learning English.

Neither will I attempt to examine or even to notice the various objections, which have, at different times, been urged against classical learning; since its adversaries among us seem lately to have