ward, in some hour of sudden temptation, or at some period of that history, which is known only to himself and God, that the delinquent finds out, in all the bitterness of a tortured and agonized spirit, how deep is the injury which he has inflicted on his moral nature, and how difficult he has made the attainment of that purity of heart and mind, after which he now perhaps most intensely longs. This faculty, therefore, must be subjected to severe and constant discipline, if you would attain to any high degree, either of intellectual or moral excellence.

All this, I again say, implies labor,-great labor,—and there is no help for it. Labor, is the price God requires. us to pay for any earthly good, and we must not grudge the amount. Intellectually, as well as physically, it is the Divine appointment, that man shall earn his bread "by the sweat of his face;" and there is no evasion of this general rule. "Without labor and discipline, all direct instruction must be unavailing and useless, The ordinary processes of instruction 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. 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."*

Let me recommend you then, to inscribe over the door of your apartment, the motto of the normal school of Pyritz, in Pomerania, "Pray and work." You cannot stand still. The moment you cease to be a diligent student, your relative position in society begins to alter; others are pressing forward, and if you remain contented with present acquisitions, a few years hence you will find yourself far below

Channing.

your present standing in the community. You have more time for intellectual improvement than falls to the lot of persons in any other employment, and if you do not improve it, you deserve to sink.

4. Cherish a kindly feeling towards the young, at all times, and under all circumstances. Do not attribute to children, dispositions and tendencies which do not belong to them. Many are absolutely discouraged from undertaking any benevolent effort on their behalf, by the frequent complaints which are uttered by teachers, respecting their character and conduct: they are perverse, lazy, thoughtless, ungrateful and wicked. A well qualified instructor smiles at these complaints; for he knows that "the teacher is to blame; he is ranking among crimes, actions which are but the unavoidable results of their characters as children; he is seeking fruit in the time of blossoms." Salzmann, to whom I have already more than once referred, insists, that by the far greater number of those faults and defects which grieve the teacher, are but the natural results of his own conduct. Be that as it may, it is certainly of the utmost importance that a teacher should have a good opinion of children; that he should always put the most favorable construction upon their conduct; that he should remember, that children not only do think and act like children, but ought to do so; that, in short, he should be fond of them. Cultivate, therefore, a warm interest in their society, and under all circumstances be their friend.

5. Studiously avoid every thing which is calculated to impair your health. Children have no sympathy with morbid affections of the liver and spleen ;- -an instructor must be cheerful and happy. But cheerfulness depends very much on the state of the body; almost any degree of despondency or irritability may be produced by irregularity of diet, neglect of exercise, or want of sufficient sleep. Take care, therefore, of your health. Beware of late hours. Rise as early as you like, but retire to repose before midnight.

Finally in all you do, whether relating to the management of your school, or to the regulation of your private studies, ACT UPON A PLAN. Sketch out, every morning, the business of the day, and then pursue the appointed duty with freshness of spirit, with interest, and with hope. You may find it difficult, perhaps impossible, to plan for any extended period, but plan you must. Without pre-considered and definite arrangements, you will never be able to conduct satisfactorily the complicated business of a school, or to pursue with advantage any course of private study.

Much more might be added. A thousand suggestions crowd upon my mind, for which I can find no place; suggestions relating to the general discipline of the mind; to the improvement of the faculties; to the attainment of selfknowledge; to the repression of pride, selfishness, and envy ; to the cultivation of devout affections; the quickening of conscience; the cherishing of purity, honor, punctuality, and prudence; the regulation of general reading and conversation; the schooling of the heart; and the absolute necessity of constant dependence on that divine and blessed Spirit, without whose aid even the renewed soul cannot lift its affections heavenward. All this, and much more, should come under notice, were I not checked by the thought, that this species of advice, which would of itself make a volume, has already been offered by others, in every way better qualified than myself to impart such instruction. One word only would I add :-Let no day pass without spending some portion of your time alone with God. "An hour of solitude, passed in sincere and earnest prayer, or, in conflict with, and conquest over a single passion, or subtle bosom sin,' will teach more of thought, will more effectually awaken the faculty, and form the habit of reflection, than a year's study in the schools without them.”*

ART. IV.-USES OF LABOR.

FOR all men doubtless obstructions abound; spiritual growth must be hampered and stunted, and has to struggle through with

* Coleridge.

difficulty, if it do not wholly stop. We may grant too that, for a mediocre character, the continual training and tutoring, from language-masters, dancing-masters, posture-masters of all sorts, hired and volunteer, which a high rank in any time or country assures, there will be produced a certain superiority, or at worst, air of superiority, over the corresponding mediocre character of low rank thus we perceive the vulgar Do-nothing, as contrasted with the vulgar Drudge, is in general a much prettier man ; with a wider perhaps clearer outlook into the distance; in innumerable superficial matters, however it may be when we go deeper, he has a manifest advantage. But with the man of uncommon character, again, in whom a germ of irrepressible Force has been implanted, and will unfold itself into some sort of freedom,-altogether the reverse may hold. For such germs, too, there is, undoubtedly enough, a proper soil where they will grow best, and an improper one where they will grow worst. True also, where there is a will, there is a way; where a genius has been given, a possibility, a certainty of its growing is also given. Yet often it seems as if the injudicious gardening and manuring were worse than none at all; and killed what the inclemencies of blind chance would have spared. We find accordingly that few Frederics or Napoleons, indeed none since the great Alexander, who unfortunately drank himself to death too soon for proving what lay in him, were nursed up with an eye to their vocation: mostly with an eye quite the other way, in the midst of isolation and pain, destitution and contradiction. Nay, in our own times, have we not seen two men of genius, a Byron and a Burns; they both, by mandate of Nature, struggle and must struggle towards clear Manhood, stormfully enough, for the space of six-and-thirty years; yet only the gifted Ploughman can partially prevail therein the gifted Peer must toil and strive, and shoot out in wild efforts, yet die at last in Boyhood, with the promise of his Manhood still but announcing itself in the distance. Truly, as was once written, it is only the artichoke that will not grow except in gardens; the acorn is cast carelessly abroad into the wilderness, yet on the wild soil it nourishes itself, and rises to be an oak.' All woodmen, moreover, will tell you that fat manure is the ruin of your oak; likewise that the thinner and wilder your soil, the tougher, more iron-texture is your timber, though, unhappily, also the smaller. So too with the spirits of men they become pure from their errors, by suffering for them; he who has battled, were it only with Poverty and hard toil, will be found stronger, more expert, than he who could stay at home from the battle, concealed among the Provision-wagons, or even not unwatchfully abiding by the stuff.' In which sense, an observer, not without experience of our time,

has said: Had I a man of clearly developed character (clear, within its limits,) of insight, courage, and real applicable force of head and of heart, to search for; and not a man of luxuriously distorted character, with haughtiness for courage, and for insight and applicable force, speculation and plausible show of force, it were rather among the lower than among the higher classes that I should look for him.'

A hard saying, indeed, seems this same: that he, whose other wants were all beforehand supplied; to whose capabilities no problem was presented except even this, How to cultivate them to best advantage, should attain less real culture than he whose first grand problem and obligation was nowise spiritual culture, but hard labor for his daily bread! Sad enough must the perversion be where preparations of such magnitude issue in abortion; and a so sumptuous Art with all its appliances can accomplish nothing, not so much as necessitous Nature would of herself have supplied! Nevertheless, so pregnant is Life with evil as with good; to such height in an age rich, plethorically overgrown with means, can means be accumulated in the wrong place, and immeasurably aggravate wrong tendencies, instead of righting them, this sad and strange result may actually turn out to be realized.

But what, after all, is meant by uneducated, in a time when Books have come into the world; come to be household furniture in every habitation of the civilized world? In the poorest cottage are Books; is one Book, wherein for several thousands of years the spirit of man has found light, and nourishment, and an interpreting response to whatever is Deepest in him; wherein still, to this day, for the eye that will look well, the Mystery of Existence reflects itself, if not resolved, yet revealed, and prophetically emblemed: if not to the satisfying of the outward sense, yet to the opening of the inward sense, which is the far grander result. 'In Books lie the creative Phoenix-ashes of the Past. All that men have devised, discovered, done, felt, or imagined, lies recorded in Books; wherein whoso has learned the mystery of spelling printed letters, may find it, and appropriate it.

Nay, what indeed is all this? As if it were by universities and libraries and lecture rooms, that man's Education, what we can call Education, were accomplished; solely, or mainly, by instilling the dead letter and record of other men's Force, that the living Force of a new man were to be awakened, enkindled, and purified into victorious clearness! Foolish Pedant, that sittest there compassionately descanting on the Learning of Shakspeare! Shakspeare had penetrated into innumerable things; far into Nature with her divine Splendors and infernal Terrors, her Ariel Melodies, and mystic mandragora Moans;