for the student to investigate, facts that had been previously com. municated by the teacher, gathered from wide reading and personal observation, were drawn out so as to make it sure that the labor applied had not been in vain, and that every mind grasped and held the teaching given. Often all the time was spent in this review. Rarely did a class go on to the end of a prescribed passage. But when the new ground was approached the best students. were kept in a state of glad surprise at the new beauties and subtle forces that were drawn from language, and the processes of thought and traits of character revealed in the structure of a sentence or turn of a period. At the close of the recitation hour there was always time given for questions. Generally the process of analysis had been so perfect that nothing remained doubtful, but the most full and free inquiry was encouraged; sometimes the questioner could not set forth his difficulty; his attempt would often reveal his trouble and he was helped. Trivial and irrelevant questions would be asked, but no answer was ever given that would discourage the questioner from asking again. The next lesson was assigned, and the class was dismissed; they came out of that intellectual gymnasium with the exhilaration that the athlete might be supposed to feel when he had stretched his limbs. and tested his muscle, in training for the Olympian plain. You that have been in Phillips Academy will, I am sure, recognize some truthfulness in this imperfect picture; you that have not may think that the same order followed the year through, morning and afternoon, would grow monotonous, or fall into the dulness of routine. As well might the plays of Shakespeare be called monotonous because they are bound in uniform volumes. No day was without a new object of interest; and we went to our instruction looking for all the novelty we could comprehend, and we were never disappointed. In that part of school discipline which relates to method of government, the ability of Dr. Taylor was fully equal to his power as an instructor; he had no doubt that good behavior and sound scholarship should go together. He made frequent and earnest appeals to the honor and truthfulness, the manliness and genuine courage of his pupils. If his appeals were unheeded, if any had set themselves to defy his authority or baffle his

scrutiny, it was soon manifest that power was on the side of right, and that the Academy had no nook where artifice could screen itself, or drones could live at ease.

There is, in the minds of many, a totally mistaken idea that he was over-severe. If you were to judge of him in this respect, from the hasty expressions of those who have been foiled in their attempts to overreach him, I doubt not you might find some ground for the idea to which I have referred. But I have been permitted to take counsel with him concerning some of the most aggravating offenders, who had openly insulted him, and there was never but one question in his mind: how shall something be made of this thoughtless boy? If he could startle into self-consciousness the folly of the wayward, or open by any means the blind eyes of the improvident, his end was gained. It was always with great reluctance, when private appeal and public admonition and careful warning had failed, that he sent transgressors away from his school, and he sought earnestly for some ground of hope that further trial might be successful. But he was no trifler; when it was clear to him that harm to the pupil was done by indulging him longer, and injury to the school by an evil example, his decision was prompt and speedily executed. He did not regard the Academy as an asylum for vicious youth, and he was right. He had a keen insight into character, and the verdict he gave upon a boy who had been a few weeks in his school seldom needed to be revised. Dishonesty and cunning and ingenious artfulness wilted before him in an instant; the boy who went into his presence armed with a subterfuge felt an eye upon him that searched him through, and soon learned that he could have no peace till he told the truth. I have never seen kinder consideration for the heedlessness of youth and weakness of inexperience than in him; it is enough to say that no one who went to school to make the highest attainments in learning, ever found anything but help and encouragement from the principal of Phillips Academy. He was a singularly modest man, but never timid. His duty might make him conspicuous, or it might take him to some obscure and hidden work known only to himself. It was all the same to him. His mind was far more intent on his work than on what others might think of it. It was

for him to do; the admiration his work might gain, was no affair of his. He was affable and easily accessible. No one ever went to him with a perplexing doubt or heavy burden, but left him relieved and lightened. He made the way easy for honest diffidence, and reassured the faltering with his kind help. There was a total absence of anything like pedantry. His mind was stored with the phraseology of Cicero and Horace and Tacitus.

In the intimacy of familiar conversation he would quote with rare felicity the words of these ancient masters. But for every-day use the English was enough, over which he had a mastery that made his thought clear as crystal. While carrying the duties of his office, he had found time to do good work as an author and translator. More than twenty-five years ago, he published a “Guide for Writing Latin," translated from the German of Krebs, a work now out of print, I think, but which I want always within reach of my study table. Afterwards, with Professor Edwards, of Andover, he published a translation of Kühner's Greek Grammar; in eighteen forty-six (1846) he published Kühner's Elementary Greek Grammar. In eighteen sixty-one (1861) he published the "Method of Classical Study"; in eighteen sixty-five (1865) the memorial of his brother-in-law, Mr. Fairbanks, of Vermont, and in eighteen seventy (1870), "Classical Study; its value illustrated by extracts from writings of eminent scholars," with an introduction by himself. Had he been inclined to assert the excellency of these books with something of the vehemence that has been sometimes witnessed in others, he might have done us good service by forcing them upon our attention. The superiority of his work, here, is acknowledged by the best scholarship of the country. The ablest commentators on the Greek classics find no better and fuller expression for all the niceties they would illustrate than in the larger grammar of Kühner. No Latin scholar can look for an hour over the translation of Krebs without surprise at the amount of toil that has been put into it, and the amount of instruction that can be drawn from it. Yet these books were never pushed before the public. I have never seen a circular setting forth the merits of either. I don't know that a copy was ever given away, or that

anything was ever done to attract attention to them, except to publish them and use them in Phillips Academy.

He was a careful student of the literature of the Bible. Few men had more enthusiasm in the study of the history, geography, and topography that throw light upon it. He was familiar with the streets of Jerusalem, and in occasional lectures took his pupils over the mountains and lakes of Judæa, the plains of Egypt, the sites of the seven churches of Asia Minor, and the antiquities of Athens: In both sacred and secular history he was an archæologist of no mean acquirements. On all these topics he would give the latest and most trustworthy views of the latest writers and explorers, and could direct the student to the sources of knowledge on these points that were most worthy of study.

I have chosen to speak of him as a teacher on this occasion. I must repress much that is in my heart. What a friend he was, sticking like a brother! What a pride he had in the well-doing of his pupils after they left his hands! What a hearty greeting, such as nothing could feign, beamed from his face and thrilled in his hand wherever he met those who had been under his care! How sincere and direct and straightforward was all his management! Above all, and controlling all, what a bright example he gave of a Christian, meekly and humbly following his Master, bearing on his heart the spiritual good of his pupils, and ever devising means for letting into their minds the light of God's truth. You who knew him well remember all these things. He leaves us the legacy of a good example, the encouragement that comes from contemplating his success.

AS

IN WHAT MANNER AND AT WHAT AGE SHOULD THE STUDY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE, DISTINCT FROM GRAMMAR, BE COMMENCED.

[Concluded from the last number.]

TWENTY years ago I knew a school where the following plan was adopted in a single class to teach the language: The majority of the class were of the ages of eleven and twelve. To begin with, instead of a spelling-book and long lists of words to

learn, a number of words were written upon the board, and the class was required to construct sentences containing these words, and with these sentences as a text, the teacher taught the technicalities of grammar and analysis. Not a text-book upon grammar were they allowed to see. Longer sentences followed, and finally, as an exercise in composition, fables from the poet Gay, stories and short allegories from Goldsmith, Johnson, and others, were read by the teacher, and the pupils were required to take their slates, and, on the spot, to condense, with as many additions or omissions as they pleased. Then followed an exercise in grammor, analysis, and criticism, by the teacher as before. This was a daily exercise, instead of the usual study of grammar. The result was, that the class was not a whit behind others of the same age in the technicalities of grammar and analysis; and, in addition, had acquired, in the course of a year and a half, such an ease, finish, and facility in composition as would have done no discredit to a well-trained boy of fifteen or sixteen.

In some such way, and at or about the age of ten, I believe it possible to begin the systematic study of the literature as distinct from the grammar. In addition to the above, it has long seemed. desirable to me that a series of cheap editions of our classics should be prepared, and a sufficient number of copies owned by the school to supply a class. Why not have a volume containing the best allegories of the language, such as Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, Addison's Vision of Mirza, Hawthorne's Celestial Railroad, some of Johnson's allegories, etc.; another containing some of the best ballad poems in the language, such as Cowper's Gilpin, Coleridge's Ancient Mariner, Chatterton's Sir Charles Bawdin, Chevy Chase, some of Wordsworth's narrative poems, etc.; and still another containing Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield, Ridley's Merchant Abudah, Johnson's Rasselas, and a number of Hawthorne's tales; each of the stories or poems to be complete, and to be read in school, with comment and criticism by the teacher? All these for the pupils in the common school of the ages of ten, eleven, or twelve. As the age increases, others might be prepared of a still higher character. We are to consider how large a part of the pupil's future culture, comfort, and happiness is to be derived