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""I feared before the manifest power of Jehovah. But this man I fear not. On his countenance my opened sight first rested, and I gazed without confusion. It seems to me, that whether men fear him or no, they cannot but love also. My heart has followed him, and if it please the Lord, I will offer my thanksgivings at the feet of his Prophet once again."

'When Sadoc had heard all that the old man could relate, he was impatient to pursue his journey. Paltiel reminded him of his home, his family, and occupation; but Sadoc earnestly replied,

"Shall Jehovah put forth his wonders in our land, and shall mine eyes not see and mine ears not hear? I go not back, till I have learned of his doctrine and sought to be his disciple."

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He retired to a solitary place to pour out his spirit before Jehovah in thanksgivings that the long-desired year of salvation had opened gloriously, and in prayer that Israel might be exalted over other nations, and that all the power and prosperity of the earth might be concentered in the people of God. Not doubting of the holiness of his petition, he set forth once again with a glowing heart and a countenance of joy.' — pp. 21 - 24.

We hope that the book, of which the foregoing extract, tender, pathetic, and solemn, is but a fair specimen, will be purchased and read, under whatever title it may be offered. We hope that more books, on a similar plan, will be written with like success.

[For the Christian Examiner.]n Braser. Some Thoughts on Self-Education, considered with Reference to the State of Literature in this Country.

ART. III.

EDUCATION, in the broadest and most comprehensive sense of the term, is the just and harmonious developement of all the faculties and powers, by which each is prepared to fulfil its appropriate purpose, and all are made to advance the highest improvement of the individual. In fewer words, man's whole nature is the subject upon which education should be made to operate, and the perfection of his whole nature is its end.

of various parts,

But as man's whole nature is made up each requiring a culture, in some respects, peculiar to itself; it is expedient, and, indeed, necessary, in considering the subject, to divide and subdivide it, and to examine it under distinct points of view.

:

Thus, education, considered in reference to the grand divisions of man's intellectual and moral nature, is of two kinds that which teaches him to know, and that which induces him to be; that which instructs him, and that which improves him; that which makes him a wiser being, and that which makes him a better being; that which fills his mind with light, and that which fills his heart with love; that which opens to him a fuller communion with the intelligence of the Deity, and that which brings him into an ever-increasing conformity to his moral perfections.

Education, further, viewed in reference to the modes in which it is conducted, is of three kinds.

First, there is that which consists of direct instruction, and is communicated by parents, teachers, and in seminaries prepared for this purpose.

Secondly, there is that instruction which is indirect, and consists of the insensible influence of events, and of the condition in which, in providence, we are placed.* It is that, for example, which a child sees, when we perceive not him; what he hears, when we are unmindful that he is a listener; what he thinks of us and of our conduct, when we do not think of him; his silent inferences from our modes of life, habits, opinions, likings, and prejudices; the unsuspected influences of our associates and of his own; in a word, all the influence of all the circumstances wherein he is placed, which, though quiet and unsuspected in their operation, are very palpable and decisive in their effects.

And, thirdly, there is that education which the individual accomplishes in and for himself, that self-education, which is the result of voluntary effort and self-discipline.

Of these three modes of education, the first, namely, direct instruction, which is commonly thought to be of the greatest importance, has least influence in the formation of character; the second, or the silent education of events and circum

* See, for a fuller illustration of this, the admirable Essay of Mrs. Barbauld on "Education."

stances, exerts a more decisive influence; and the third, Self-Education, is, on all accounts, the most essential.

As

It is on this, that we propose to offer some remarks. We shall, first, attempt to establish and illustrate the position, that knowledge and virtue, or, in other words, intellectual and moral improvement, are mainly the mind's own work; and we shall next advert to some practical uses of this truth. In the first place, it is a plain fact, that without this selflabor, self-discipline, self-education, all direct instruction must be unavailing and useless. And is not this obvious? For what is the nature and extent of all the ordinary processes of direct instruction? They are, at best, but means, facilities, and aids, which presuppose in the mind to which they are applied an active, self-moving coöperation. Without this, they can effect nothing. They are efficacious just so far as the individual by his own energies seconds their application, and no further. They cannot advance him a single step, unless he makes corresponding efforts to go. means, facilities, and aids, they are of immense importance. They may put us in a condition for improvement; they may afford us the light of experience to direct our efforts; they may remove unnecessary obstacles from our path; they may point out our defects, and show us the method of correcting them; they may enable us to strengthen what is weak, and to use well what is strong; they may instruct us in the best employment of our faculties; they may teach us how to study, when to study, what to study, and wherefore to study; but, after all, study we must, and study is self-work, and incomparably the hardest work that is accomplished beneath the sun. For study, be it remembered, is not dreaming awake, though we sit, through the livelong day, in the student's posture, with our eyes fixed upon a book. It is not much preparation and bustle about the means of knowledge. But it is, and it is nothing less than, the intense concentration of all our intellectual powers upon a given train of thought, to the temporary annihilation of all things else, to the forgetfulness even of our own existence. It is the grappling of the entire mind with a subject, as if for life, until it yields the blessing we seek. It is an effort, compared with which, the hardest toil of the day-laborer is play and pastime. And this, we need not say, is self-work. None can do it for another. None can carry us up the hill of

learning. It must be done, if done, by the strain upon our own sinews; by the wrenching of our own muscles; by the 'blood of toil from our own feet'; by the indomitable resolution of our own wills. Without this effort on our parts, all the means of instruction which this, and all other ages have devised, are vain, worse than vain; they are wasted, thrown away, and might as well be heaped upon a dead

man or a statue.

All this, thus stated, is very plain, and will be readily admitted. And yet there is nothing, in point of fact, more frequently forgotten. There is a vague notion, as has been justly remarked, widely prevalent, that schools, and ampler seminaries, are able, by a power inherent in themselves, to fill the mind with learning; or that it is to be received inertly, like the influences of the atmosphere, by a mere residence at the places of instruction. But this is a sad mistake. Something, in this way, doubtless, may be effected. Something may be thus insensibly imbibed. A young person cannot pass his time, for years, in scenes like these, without catching something from the inspiration of the place. Intercourse, conversation, sympathy with his companions, will, without much voluntary effort on his part, convey some information, and mould, in some degree, the habits of his mind. But this, admitting it in its full extent, amounts to but very little. It is, moreover, too vague to be of any practical value. The truth, after all, is, that the most elaborate and manifold apparatus of instruction can impart nothing of importance to the passive and inert mind. It is almost as unavailing as the warmth and light of the sun, and all the sweet influences of the heavens, shed upon the desert sands. 'The schoolmaster,' we are told by one, who, be it observed, is himself a prodigy of self-education, 'the schoolmaster is abroad.' The word has been caught up by the nations as prophetical of mighty changes. But the schoolmaster is abroad to little purpose, unless his pupils stand ready in their places to receive him with open and active minds, and to labor with him for their own benefit. And it would be a happier auspice still, for the great cause of human improvement, if it could be said, that men were bent on becoming, each in his several station, their own instructers. If all the means of education which are scattered over the world, and if all the philosophers and teachers of ancient and modern times, were to be collected together,

and made to bring their combined efforts to bear upon an individual; all they could do would be to afford the opportunity of improvement. They could not give him a single valuable thought independently of his own exertion. All that could be accomplished must still be done within the little compass of his own mind; and they could not approach this, by a hair's breadth nearer, than access was made for them by his own coöperation. Nothing short of a miracle can teach a man any thing independently of this. All that he learns is effected by self-discipline, and self-discipline is the mind's own work. We all are, under God, intellectually, the makers of ourselves.

Our remarks, thus far, have had reference to intellectual improvement. But the spirit of them, with equal force, applies to moral and religious improvement. Virtue, religion, as well as knowledge, must also be, mainly, the mind's own work. Here, as in the former case, something may be insensibly imbibed from the circumstances in which we are placed; from the conversation and example of those around us; from the tone of the society in which we live; from prevailing opinions, manners, habits. But all this is of a negative character. It restrains, rather than aids. It serves rather to withhold us from gross vice, than to help us on to elevated virtue. It may correct the outward deportment, but takes little cognizance of principles and motives. It may prevent the outright and palpable developement of the sin, but blights not the swelling germ of iniquity in the heart. It may spread a decorum and decency over the surface of the character, but does little to alter, and still less to purify, and advance, and carry into effect the essential principles of virtue.

A similar remark, it is obvious, may be made of the external means of moral and religious improvement. These, like all the processes of direct instruction, in the education of the mind, are useless without the earnest coöperation of the individual. You can no more make him a Christian by sending him to church, than you can make him a scholar by sending him to school. The usual means of religious improvement, public religious instruction, public worship, the solemn and tender rites of our religion, seasons of abstraction from ordinary cares for self-intercourse, and for communion of the soul with God, are valuable, most valuable; valuable very

VOL. XI. — N. S. VOL. VI. NO. III.

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