SCHOOL EDUCATION.

If we can succeed in showing the mother that she has left a duty unperformed towards her infant—a duty of paramount importance-yea, one of far greater consequence than those even which she so assiduously performs for its bodily comfort; if we can convince her that any of the bad passions which agitate, the evil dispositions which deform, and the vicious inclinations which degrade the human character, are under her control, are attributable to her neglect, and may be prevented by her exertions; she will no longer be idle, she will no longer be negligent and indifferent as to the moral health of her offspring.

As soon as a group of little creatures peep out from the nursery, every body asks the mother how she means to educate them; and she, with maternal anxiety, begins to inquire for the best method. For some it is determined that they shall have governesses, some are to be sent to school, some are to be taught by masters, and some are to get their education piecemeal, and by accident, in any way that may happen; which, I have been surprised to observe, sometimes proves, in the end, a very good one. As to which of these modes of education is the best, volumes large, and volumes many, have been written; and our most partial readers would not, I believe, petition for another, even of six pages, were there not a point of view in which the subject is not, to my knowledge, sufficiently considered. There is yet room for discussion on the subject, " How should a Christian mother educate her children?" for it cannot be that the same answer should be

given where that adjective is subjoined, and where it is omitted. It cannot be, that to ends so opposite, the same path should be the most direct. When a boy is to be brought up to the church, he is not sent to a military school; neither, when destined to the army, is he sent to a Theological Seminary. If, therefore, there be two masters, two services, two worlds, so distinct and separate as the Scriptures throughout describe them, there must be some difference in the mode of preparation for them. The boy educated for the army may, when he becomes a man, choose to go into the church; and the man educated for the church may take it into his head to enter the army; but this is not in the parents' contemplation: they have an object, and pursue the most likely means to attain it. The child of the Christian mother may turn out careless, thoughtless, unbelieving, and choose the service for which she was not designed; for genuine piety goes not by inheritance, nor of the bequest of man; but the Christian mother does not intend this, does not prepare for this bad preference. And if at the baptismal font she have really devoted her child to be a child of God and a servant of Christ, with ardent prayer and honest wish that the vow should be fulfilled, it is impossible her view of education, and the manner in which she calculates the advantages of the various modes of it, can be exactly the same, as if she considers that ceremony an established farce, and would be very sorry that her child should fulfil its promises. If, therefore, I write my sentiments upon the best mode of educating girls, it is for Christian mothers; to them only, my observations apply: for I am satisfied they cannot, in every point at least, be equally applicable to all.

Travelling last autumn, leisurely and for amuse

ment, in the West of England, by one of those casualties that so often give beginning to the most intimate and lasting friendship, I became acquainted with a gentleman travelling the same road, though not on the same errand. I was wandering away from my home, he was making haste to return to his. After much of that preluding sort of intercourse which usually makes the first chapter of a story so uninteresting, I received an invitation to make his house one stage upon my journey, and remain a few days there, to see what was worthy of observation in the neighbourhood. I did so: and whatever I did or did not see without, I was most highly satisfied with all I found within. I scarcely need draw a picture of which the original may be seen in every town or province of our happy country-the picture of domestic enjoyment, and grateful prosperity. By prosperity, I do not mean wealth revelling in her halls of luxury, amid the plenitude of unrestrained expenditure; but that secure sufficiency, which speculating avarice does not reach, and ostentatious splendour does not waste; which hundreds do enjoy, and hundreds might who do not, were their desires more reasonable, and their hearts more grateful.

If there was nothing in the residence of my friend that bespoke unlimited resources, nothing splendid or costly, it is impossible to imagine a comfort that there was not. Though not far from a large town, the extensive shrubbery that encompassed the house, and closed it from the road, gave to it a fictitious air of loneliness and seclusion, the more delightful, perhaps, that it was not a reality. My friend was a grave and sensible man, one in whose company you could not pass an hour, without perceiving a mind of no common cultivation, under the immediate and habitual influence of the strongest religious princi

ple. His lady was cheerful, rational, it seemed to me accomplished and well-read, with remarkable kindness and simplicity of manners. Their days were spent in that sort of busy leisure, in which no one being actually compelled to do any thing, has yet, in the sense of duty, a stronger impulse to activity than any necessity could supply. When the morning bell rang for prayers, about half-a-dozen servants made their appearance, with cheerful faces, and received, in few words, the kindly instructions of their master. The breakfast hour passed in rational discourse, or the discussion of family matters; my friend went either to his study, or to some business in the town or in the country, that took up great part of his morning: the lady was occupied, as most not idle ladies are, with a great many different things-books, work, household affairs, the calls of friendship, and the claims of benevolence.

At dinner, in the afternoon, and in the evening, whether it was in the society of a few cultivated and agreeable friends, or in the perusal of popular works, or the chat about men and things-I do not mean scandal-time passed with equal and untroubled wings, till the day's work ended as it began, in the assembling of the family to prayers; as if to forget all distinctions where all are equal, and lose, in contemplation of eternity, the factitious differences of time and circumstance. Peace, holiness, and love, had their dwelling there; nor dwelt there only for the comfort of the family themselves. There the ignorant had instruction and advice, the hungry had food, and the naked clothing. At a certain hour of the week-day, I saw the lady go out to visit establishments of charity, that needed, as she told me, the personal attention of those who supported them, as persons who were employed and paid for

the purpose did not always do their duty or understand it. At a certain hour on the Sunday, I saw a number of half-grown girls assembled in her hall, to be instructed by herself. In conversation with her husband, I heard her speak of Mary Thompson, and Elizabeth Wilson, and James Butler, as if she knew all the children's characters and propensities, and was making it her business to watch over their welfare day by day, checking the growth of ill, and encouraging every promise of good.

The gentleman took me to the week-day schools he had established, where I observed, that he called every child by its name, and spoke to it in a manner that implied a personal knowledge of its temper and condition. He sometimes talked apart with the teachers, with an earnestness that proved he did not think it enough to hire and to pay, without knowing how the duty was performed. I do not wish to write a story-imagine all the rest. Consider, for you know, how many well-beneficed clergy, many professional or independent gentlemen, many wealthy retired tradesmen, live and pass their time, and scatter blessings around them. For my part, I envied the very servants in the house: for they, even to the stable-boy, seemed objects of kindness and parental care; as if their employers held themselves responsible for their present comfort and their eternal welfare, so far as by human means either could be promoted.

It was the third evening of my visit, that, sitting with my friends alone, intent on the growth of the just lighted fire, whose gay crackling made one rejoice that the chill of an autumn evening had afforded excuse for lighting it, I remarked on what I had seen, and added a sort of compliment that needed no sacrifice of truth-that the neighbouring