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The first virtue in a school exercise is, of course, accuracy; but scarcely less important, in its bearing, not only upon the process of education in school, but upon its working value in life, is promptness. If knowledge is power, how manifestly does the extent of one's available power depend upon the readiness with which his knowledge can be summoned to use. The power which knowledge brings to some men, is only such as is latent in a sword locked in the cabinet or rusting in the scabbard. What though it be of the finest Damascene, if it be too heavy or too costly to wear and use, it is of less value in the battle of life than a weapon of far inferior temper kept always sharp and burnished and by the side.

Now, when we remember that the main purpose of elementary education is, not so much to impart a little knowledge, as to form good habits of acquiring and using knowledge, we shall see the importance of cultivating Promptness as one of the cardinal virtues of the school-room. I am afraid we do not estimate duly the influences which the exercises of school necessarily have in the formation of mental habits in young minds, and how much they might contribute to the formation of good habits. Some pupils are allowed to get into the habit of taking a question as leisurely as if one should say," At some convenient future

time, sir, I will take that question into consideration:" the teacher and the class sit in expectation, the one paring his nails,

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the others scribbling on the blank leaves of their text-books, as though they would say,-" Please to favor us at your earliest convenience." I am tempted to say, in spite of the assertion I began with, that, even if a correct answer come at last, (which is quite improbable in such a stagnation of the faculties), a good, prompt, downright blunder would have been better. It certainly would have been more hopeful. It is plain enough what such scholars will come to. Their knowledge will always be "to seek," according to the old expression, when it is wanted. They will be of that stupid class who " 'know, but can't think." When on examination, or in any emergency, in school or in life, where a little knowledge is wanted impromptu, they will always be confused, embarrassed, nonplused, good for nothing.

I know a teacher who tells his scholars that if he were to go to them when they were asleep at night, and shake them, and thrust a book into their face, and say,-" Here-translate this," they must be ready to do it on the instant. And I verily believe they would. I believe the sound of that sharp voice, that never tolerates the tick of a watch between question and answer, if heard in the midst of the deepest sleep, would impel them, instinctively, to "rouse and bestir themselves, ere well awake."

The teacher's success in securing promptness in his pupils will depend very much on his own promptness. There is a wonderful contagion in all mental operations. In ordinary conversation, we almost unconsciously talk faster and think faster than our wont, with a man who speaks fast to us, and we take our time with a man who is himself deliberate. The teacher must be as prompt as his own standard. He must "know what he knows." If he expect ready answers, he must be ready with his questions. Every appearance of hesitation or doubt, in him, sanctions and reproduces hesitation in them. To maintain this alertness will require careful preparation on his part-but what teacher can expect to succeed in anything without it?

The teacher to whom the writer was indebted for his early education, had an excellent scheme for stimulating his scholars to rapid performances in Arithmetic. A problem was read to the