in this world, and it must be recognised
and dealt with; it is not by concealing it
from the young but by teaching him to resist
it that we do wise. It must at the same
time be admitted that the principle can be
carried too far; and if the master did
intentionally drop the halfpenny, it was exactly
there that he pushed his excellent principle
too far.

The teaching of the juniors is conducted
mainly vivâ voce; for the mass of them are
under six years of age. The class was opened
thus:

"What day is this?"

"Monday."

"What sort of a day is it?"

"Very fine."

"Why is it a fine day?"

"Because the sun shines, and it does not
rain."

"Is rain a bad thing, then?"

"No."

"What is it useful for?"

"To make the flowers and the fruit grow."

"Who sends rain and sunshine?"

"God."

"What ought we to do in return for his
goodness?"

"Praise him!"

"Let us praise him, then," added the master.
And the children, all together, repeated and
then sung a part of the 149th Psalm.––A
lesson on morals succeeded, which evidently
interested the children. It was partly in the
form of a tale told by the master. A gentleman
who was kind to the poor, went to visit
in gaol a boy imprisoned for crime. The
restraint of the gaol, and the shame of the
boy, were so described, as to impress the
children with strong interest. Then the boy's
crime was traced to disobedience, and the
excellence of obedience to teachers and parents
was shown. The fact that punishment comes
out of, and follows our own actions was
enforced by another little story.

By this time some of the very young children
showed symptoms of lassitude. One fat little
mortal had fallen asleep; and this class was
consequently marshalled for dismissal, and as
usual marched out singing, to play for a
quarter of an hour.

A lesson in reading was now administered
to a class of older children. For facilitating
this achievement, generally so difficult, the
master has introduced the phonic system, in
some degree according to a mode of his own,
by which means even the youngest children
make remarkable progress. We need not
discuss it here.

The scene the schoolroom, during the
reading lesson, presented, was remarkable.
Groups of four or five little fellows were
gathered in various parts of the room before
a reading-card, one acting as monitor; who
was sometimes a girl. It was a pleasing sight
to see half-a-dozen children seated or kneeling
in a circle round the same book, their heads
almost meeting in the centre, in their earnestness
to see and hear, while the monitor
pointed quickly with the finger to the word
which each in succession was to pronounce.
All seemed alert, and the eyes of the monitors
kindled with intelligence. Meanwhile the
master was busied in passing from one class
to another, listening to the manner in which
the pronunciation was caught, or the correctness
with which the rapid combination of
letters and syllables was made. Sometimes
he stayed a few minutes with a class to give
aid, then proceeded to another; and occasionally,
on finding by a few trials, that a boy
was quite familiar with the work of his class,
he would remove him to another more
advanced. These transfers were frequent.

In an adjoining room were assembled,
under the care of the schoolmaster's wife,
some of the more advanced scholars. One
class in this room was particularly interesting
––a class composed of the monitors who
receive extra instruction in order to fit them
for their duties.

After an interval the whole attended a
class for general knowledge: in this the
mutual instruction system was adopted. A
pupil stood out on a platform––the observed
of all observers—to be questioned and cross-
questioned by his or her schoolfellow, like a
witness in a difficult law case, until supplanted
by a pupil who could answer better. A
degree of piquancy was thus imparted to the
proceeding, which caused the attention of the
pupils not to flag for a moment. One girl,
with red hair and bright eyes, weathered a
storm of questions bravely. A sample of
the queries put by these young inquisitors,
will show the range of subjects necessary to
be known about. What are the months of
spring? What animal cuts down a tree, and
where does it live? Which are the Cinque
Ports? What planet is nearest the sun?
What is the distance from Manchester to
Lancaster? How high is St. Paul's Cathedral?
What are the names of the common
metals? What causes water to rise and
become clouds?

One urchin who could scarcely be seen over
the head of another, and who was evidently
of a meteorological turn of mind, bawled out
in a peculiarly sedate and measured manner,

"What does the wind do?"

To have answered the question fully would
have taken a day, but a single answer satisfied
the querist, and was of a sanitary character.

"The wind," replied the female Rufus, "cools
us in summer and blows away the bad air."
An agreeable enough answer as we sat in the
middle of the schoolroom on a hot day, when
the thermometer was seventy-one degrees in
the shade, and a pleasant breeze stealing
through the open windows occasionally fanned
our warm cheeks. This concluded our visit
to the junior department.

Meanwhile, the education of the elder
children was proceeding in other parts of the