sorption of the m would explain the quantity of the termination; and on any other supposition it is not easy to understand it.

Let us see now how our word will look written out in full, so as

to show what seems to be the history of its declension.

IF our system of education shall ever show in its results the highest reasonable perfection, giving to parents satisfaction, to pupils exact and valuable culture, it will do this through the services of that class of teachers who deserve the adjective we have used at the head of this piece.

An occupation like teaching, so useful in itself, meeting a call in every community, and offering all varieties of compensation to those who engage in it, may well be expected to show all kinds and degrees of ability and attainment in those who pursue it.

There are ignorant and inexact teachers, who serve as illustrations of the saying, "We learn by teaching," if they learn at all. There are others, of narrow culture, who have contended with early disadvantages, but have made themselves at home in what they have acquired, laying thus a good foundation for advancement. There are adventurers, who write a good hand and are socially successful. Such step into the pursuit awhile, and gain at length a clerkship, or the place of a salesman. Others still are

sterling characters, who gain their maturity of powers at an early age, achieve a fair reputation, and become fixed in their own origi. nal methods and never deviate from them. There is yet further the enthusiastic teacher, who " talks teaching" everywhere, and is always at home in the convenient commonplaces picked up in lectures at the lyceum, or addresses at agricultural fairs, going to show that, should the instructor depart, the world could not replace him, and things would go to ruin immediately. Yet further, there is a large class that merit the appellation of good teachers, who learn from all convenient sources the duties, the rights, and the advantages of their profession, and pursue it with daily fidelity; not ambitious perhaps to bruit its praises and its destiny, but determined to keep a good school, and inclined to look with more or less suspicion upon all innovations that compromise established standards.

These classes, and many more, all contribute their part, by both good and bad practices, to make the calling what it has become. As examples and as warnings, they help to raise the ideal, which stands, somewhat indistinctly it may be, beckoning us all to approach. It cannot reasonably be doubted that we are approaching, however far from us may stand, perfection. As, nevertheless, all general excellence must be simply an aggregate of that which is individual, if the good practices and qualities of individuals be, the one stereotyped and the other unexercised, in such degree improvement ceases, and the cause of education falls into the rearward. To guard against such defection, it is every educator's duty, first to himself, then to his profession, to grow.

In treating this subject didactically, it is proper to answer the question, "What is growth?"

In natural objects, we are familiar with the outward process whereby the acorn develops into the immature oak, and by which this in its turn, under the influences of sunshine, air, motion and juices, becomes the hardy monarch of the forest. It thrusts out its roots in all directions for supplies provided for them in the allquickening earth. Its branches put forth their shoots, wave their leaves, inhale and appropriate the elements of increase stored in

the boundless atmosphere. What is thus seized makes in time oak-wood and acorns, the germs of another life.

Man in his physical growth is not entirely unlike the tree. He must take and digest and assimilate. He must breathe and act and wrestle with external nature. Speed must try his feet, strength must test his muscles, sundry forms of pain vex his nerves, his hands must impose and his back bear burdens. These things in general. If his physical growth be directed to certain ends, the conditions best fitted to compass those ends must be observed. The training that makes a blacksmith differs from that forming an acrobat. The engraver of cameos and of granite has each his special discipline to compass his highest results. They grow up to, and grow into, that control and ready use of the bodily powers through which each excels in his specialty.

The teacher's growth is analogous. He must use the mind, and mainly with a particular aim in view. His task is a peculiar, it need not be said an exhausting, one; yet it differs not very materially from the growth of most educated minds. The branches pursued may be varied, with an eye to his future success; but they are not, it is presumed, more so than those that tax the clergyman, the physician or the advocate. Whatever urges to action the reasoning faculty, kindles the imagination, exercises expression, describes the experience of the past, and matures the judgment cannot well be dispensed with by him more than by others. Up to the time of assuming his "great office," his growth is like the growth of most men that bear similar responsibilities If his aim be a high one, and he have left undone nothing necessary to its accomplishment, he will be extensively read, not in what is to be taught alone, but an object of greater importance - in the ways whereby this has been successfully done. The works that record a wise experience on the part of others will be his. The methods that have gained a general reputation for correctness, both in philosophy and practice, he will have mastered. The motives that may properly actuate a high-minded and conscientious man have been weighed and scrutinized.

These, or something like these, will have made up his early

growth, which is to go on to maturity after he has assumed the round of duty.

If one thus prepared is successful in his beginnings, there are some respects in which he will grow from the first. Allow me to allude to some of them:

He will widen his vision. A young teacher has, as a general fact, enough to do, at his first setting out, in fulfilling his immediate daily work, in getting acquainted with the people among whom he lives, in mastering the problems set by the different characters of his scholars, in judging and classifying their previous acquirements, to keep him earnestly engaged for a time. He may, too, be thrown among associations calculated to make him, from the first, struggle even for a tolerable foothold. If he surmounts all these obstacles successfully, or does not meet with them, his teaching will fall into a healthy and regular routine; will aid him in the daily government of his charge; and will give him that kind of confidence in himself which will impel to experiments in untried measures, if he is of an inquisitive turn, or, if of a contented one, will prompt him, in the words of the old adage, " to let well enough alone." Just here, I apprehend, is the spot where one is liable to make a serious mistake. The lessons are well learned. The prescribed amount of text-book is carefully explained and repeatedly reviewed. The principles of good order are insisted upon, and a well-governed school meets the eye of the visitor, and elicits his commendation. The pupils acquire the feeling that all things are going on well, and circulate the impression at home to the no small gratification of the teacher. His own facility in daily duty is on the steady increase. His power to give an explanation in the fewest words with the greatest clearness is becoming second nature. The reading lesson lodges in his memory with its punctuation, capitals, turns of expression and of thought, so that his book is not needed in the recitation, or, if used at all, used only as a form. He knows all the stumbling-blocks in the path through partial payments, and does not suffer the young traveller to dash his foot against them, but kicks them from the way. Selected passages in parsing or analysis which involve nearly all possible transpositions, ellipses,

tropical meanings, remote connections, are wrought and re-wrought until it would seem "the force of drilling could no farther go." What seem the most important parts of the geography are memorized with and without questions, until perfection seems reached, and the listener stands amazed at the readiness and real acquirements of the reciter. Will you not, must you not, commend the energy and the patience that has realized such results? Can you not bear the little personal complacence which sometimes may escape at a moment when these results are gratefully recognized in private or in public? Nay, more: what further, as the world goes, can you reasonably expect from one who fulfils his work as few others in any profession or calling or trade do?

Certainly all this is commendable; it is even unusual; and that it is so constitutes the best of reasons why one who accomplishes so much should not rest here. The observation of many must have shown them that it is possible to reach all which has been assumed, and then fall short of a true wholeness. The state of mind that rests upon what is builded is a most undesirable one. The true teacher will widen his vision. He will see, in the daily deportment of his charge, the virtues and faults in process of development which afterward will give character to the outward. and inward man, in business or in society. The evasion of an honorable school duty is as much an offence to labor against, as the meanness that, in after manhood, will excite contempt and indignation. The imperfect recitation looks forward to imperfect work, or unfair trade. Resting in a tolerable fulfilment of what is demanded, is a fitting preparation for the workman whose aim will be to find means "how not to do it," and yet demand the rewards of well-doing. Hence the true view of study is that which constantly connects it with coming accountability. When a lesson has been well read to the ear, and received its just praise, we want to know how much mental effort has been expended upon it; how far the habits exercised in acquiring it are likely to act upon what has never yet been read. If a small battalion stand their ground against the formidable columns of the spelling-book, and are neither slain nor routed, we long to know whether their success is only in defence, or whether they will be able to use these