urgent and so obvious that a clause was embodied in the constitution commanding the regents, at their first annual meeting or as soon thereafter as may be, to elect a president of the University, who was, by the same authority, made president of the board of regents, thus securing his wisdom and experience in all its councils. They acted promptly and with decision and wisdom. They lost no time in obeying the mandate of the constitution.

A little more than six months after this organization they chose Dr. Henry P. Tappan president of the University. Their choice met the hearty approval of intelligent friends of the institution, revived their sinking courage, and filled their hearts with renewed confidence and hope.

At the time of which I am speaking he was yet new in his office, but the unquestioning trust which his name and his reputation inspired, and his speedily discovered power to convince men and to fire their hearts with the same earnestness that glowed in his own, made his acceptance of the proffered presidency the most conspicuous factor in the Revival to which I have invited your attention. A few words concerning him, spoken with great love and reverence, will close what I have to say of the Renaissance and its conspicuous characteristics. A kind Providence guided the regents in their selection. Dr. Tappan was the man for the time and for the place. Broad in his culture, profound in his scholarship, forcible, direct and eloquent in speech, a thorough student of systems of education at home and abroad, ripe in years. and experience, full of temperate zeal and intelligent enthusiasm, commanding in mien and in presence as well as in his great abilities, a natural leader of men, he easily rallied all available forces and energies to the building up of the institution with which he had cast his lot. It was a case of regeneration. The University was born again. He was its true founder. With his administration, its real career began. The impetus given to it by his genius and his labors, made possible its subsequent progress from triumph to triumph. The young men of Michigan loved him and venerated him as their "guide, philosopher and friend," and he bound their hearts to him with fetters of steel.

Nearly five years ago, from his lovely villa that looks out upon the quiet waters of Lake Geneva, he went to his eternal reward.

May the University of Michigan, still triumphant and wisely progressive, remain forever as it is to-day, worthy of the love and loyalty of all its sons and daughters; worthy of the high place which its achievements have already won for it, and worthy as a monument to the wisdom, foresight and devotion of its real father and founder.

READING.

BY CHARLES CARLISLE, IONIA, MICH.

Dr. Hunter, of the Normal College of the city of New York, says that the chief end to be obtained in the study of reading is facility in reading silently.

Ernest Legouvé, of the French Academy, teaches the pupils of the Normal School, of Paris, that the meaning of the written or printed sentence is fully revealed only when the sentence is read aloud.

Mr. Alfred Ayres, in his "Essentials of Elocution," holds that, if the thought is understood, adequate expression will follow as a matter of course. Principal W. B. Ferguson, of the High School of Putnam, Conn., maintains that if his experience in teaching has given him certain knowledge of anything, it has given him certain knowledge of the fact that correct oral expression does not always follow mastery of thought.

The "Syllabus of Institute Work for Michigan," issued some years ago, propounds, as a test of the pupil's reading ability, the question, "Does he read as he talks?"

Legouvé says it would be well enough for the pupil to read as he talked if he talked well; but that the majority of us talk only indifferently. Some stammer, some hesitate, some drawl, some hurry, some speak through the nose, some are monotonous. Further, that ordinary conversation permits a negligence in utterance which would be a grave defect in reading, and that to talk as we read would usually be pedantry, while to read as we talk would often be vulgarity.

Mr. Ayres gives us his "Essentials of Elocution" in forty-two small pages. Ex-State Supt. Swett, of California, in his "School Elocution," covers with "essentials" more than two hundred and sixty pages of ordinary size.

Prof. Charles Carroll, lecturing before the students and teachers of the New York School of Acting, declares that no treatise on the art of reading has yet been written.

Such varying views concerning it, lead us to infer that the subject of reading is like a diamond---many sided-and that while one person may have caught a flash of red light from one facet, he may have failed to see the green flash from another. One man sees and states this truth, another that. Many truths may lie yet undiscovered. Therefore, while we may with much profit consider reading through the mediumship of this or that author or teacher whose methods commend themselves to reason, it may be well for us to look

directly at the subject now and then in order to see whether some hint or help which others have failed to find may not be revealed to our unaided

eyes.

Reading, as generally considered in school-work, is the mind's recognition of the ideas contained in written or printed symbols (words), and its expression of these ideas by means of an apparatus made of bone and muscle. It is an attempt to talk the thoughts of other people as they ought to be talked. It is one of the first tasks at which the child is set; and, according to the measure of success he has in mastering it, it becomes to him an invaluable servant in the acquisition of knowledge. It opens for him the vast treasurehouse of the world's thought, where from volumes of old experience he may glean such wise counsel, such illuminating instruction, and such cheering hope as may enable him to look forward to a happy and successful career.

"Teach a child to read," says Horace Mann, "teach him to read and understand such stories as the friendship of Damon and Pythias, the integrity of Aristides, the fidelity of Regulus, the purity of Washington, the invincible perseverance of Franklin, and he will think differently and act differently all the days of his remaining life."

Teach a child to read, and dispose him to read only that which is good, and you teach him "the song which can lighten, cheer, soothe and inspire" his life when few things else can. If he has wealth, reading will add to his enjoyment. If poverty be his lot, reading may not only make it endurable, it may make it enviable. Then, too, there is salvation in a love for literature. "To love worthy objects, and in a worthy manner, is the top and crown of earthly good; aye, and of heavenly good also," says Dr. Hudson. If a love of good books, which are, indeed, worthy objects, be not instilled into the personality of the child during his school-days, one chance for his salvation will have been neglected. Too much consideration, therefore, cannot be given to that phase of the subject of reading embodied in the question, "What shall the child read?"

During his earlier childhood it seems fitting that his mind should dwell upon the world's child-lore-its fairy tales-its Arabian Nights-its history of Robinson Crusoe-its legends of heroes-such stories of men and of animals as will teach him his duty toward them-simple tales of science and of travel.

During childhood, too, it will be well for him to make familiar acquaintance with the simple, strong English of "The Pilgrim's Progress," and the sinewy idioms of King James' Bible, a book which, to quote Dr. Hudson again, is in point of style incomparably superior to any in our tongue. What a wealth of illustration orators and authors have drawn from it! Apart from any question of human interpretation of certain portions of it, what a noble code of ethics it presents! Apart from any thought of its seeming inconsistencies, what a powerful personality may be built upon its precepts!

Therefore, at school as well as at home there should be familiar reference to this book in order that the child, ordinarily, may be able to distinguish. between Biblical quotations and sayings from "Poor Richard's Almanac;' that he may have command of its thoughts for his own use in illustration, and that its parables, stories, admonitions and exhortations may have a chance at least to make a permanent impression upon his moral nature. It would not be amiss to have a judicious selection from the Bible form part of a daily exercise in his school-life. It is not necessary that every chapter should be

read in rotation. It is not necessary that every part of every chapter should be publicly presented. It is not necessary that the pupils should be required to join in the reading. Doubtless, it may be wise to omit verses here and there and to supply such words as may be necessary to make the proper connection. Many of the narratives, especially those of the Old Testament, will be doubly effective when skilfully condensed. But, taking all things into consideration, it is doubtful whether any other incident of school routine has greater influence upon all who assist at it than a morning exercise which includes a short Bible reading and the Lord's prayer, conducted under the direction of a teacher whom the pupils respect and love. It is a means of culture, it quiets disorder, it strengthens the soul for labor, it persuades the mind to good thoughts, it calms the pulse of passion and banishes "the unthankful gloom of care."

As the child advances in the ability to understand and enjoy, the simpler English classics should occupy some portion of his thought. By the time he is eleven or twelve years old he should be able to read clearly, intelligently, and with reasonably good expression, anything which is likely to be put into his way. His chief difficulties in learning to recognize the contents of blackletter forms should now be over. Henceforth his reading should partake of the nature of an intellectual delight. He should begin to apply to the text such principles of expression as his mind can grasp; he should be continually adding to his stock of understood words, and his constant drills in languagework should show him that words are merely instruments usable for certain ends, and that he, as well as another, can gain the power to combine them with effect.

For the culture of his power of observation, and of all the powers which can help him to become an acceptable reader, none, in these days of lessonlearning, is more apt to grow weak from want of use. "The Young Wide Awake," a little monthly reader, which he can master only when he is wideawake, will be found very useful. "Train the child to observe, OBSERVE, OBSERVE," says a successful teacher. "The Young Wide Awake" compels him to observe, if he would read at all. The pupil of the fourth, fifth or sixth grade, hails it with delight, and is loath to let it go out of his hands when the lesson-hour is over. He enjoys the stories; he enjoys the languagework. He becomes shrewd in detecting errors in print and in speech. He especially enjoys his own growing ability to get along without help, and is usually much more anxious to see if he cannot study out a puzzling sentence than he is to have it told him.

For the cultivation of memory, he is questioned concerning what he has read; is asked to repeat some of the stories in words of his own choosing, to "cap verses;" to tell in what lesson this or that expression is to be found; to commit worthy selections of poetry and prose, and sometimes to declaim for criticism before his class.

There is little doubt as to the value of the last named exercise. It has been the delight of all cultured races. Its abuse consists in leading the pupil to think chiefly of "showing off." Its helpfulness arises from the probable growth in right directions of the mental and moral parts of the being by means of the thoughts assimilated, and the positive improvement of the physical powers as agents of expression. The best results are obtained when the pupil declaims before his own class only, the class, under the guidance of a judicious teacher, freely criticising. Public exercises should be considered as

a means whereby pupils may entertain friends and influence them in favor of the school. They should be the outgrowth of work done in class, and should not consume much extra time in preparation. They should be only so long as to make the audience wish that they were longer. They should include good places for dull pupils, as well as for those whose efforts are always satisfactory, and, by the observance of "authors' days" and the customary festivals of the year, they should lead both pupils and patrons to a better appreciation of literature, a heartier good-fellowship, and a stronger patriotism.

Before we think much further of what the child shall read, we must consider his "reader," the book with which he is usually most familiar, and which, taking all things into account, he usually prefers to anything else as a text for the study of reading. The "reader" should be a book of selections pleasing to the child at the age of ten or twelve, and of sufficient value to be remembered by him with satisfaction during his whole life. It should be a book not too simple to be useful-one which is graded down to the pupil's entire comprehension and so burdened with notes and vocabularies as to repress all inclination to exert the mind's activities in personal research. "It should be," says Ex-Supt. John D. Philbrick, "a book which, according to its grade, comprises selections best calculated to develop the sentiment of the beautiful, the true, the good. Every piece within its covers should be a gem of poetry or of artistic prose. The child could not become too familiar with such a reader. Proper instructions in it, such drill upon it as shall weave the substance of its thought into the very fibre of his mind, would far surpass in value the instruction given in any other branch of study included in the school curriculum."

Supplementary reading may be wisely illustrated with "notes; " but the reader proper should present to the pupil a comparatively clean text. If there are no vocabularies, he will learn to use the dictionary. If there are no "notes," he will learn to hunt up references and ask questions at home and elsewhere which will interest others in his work. If there are no "language lessons" his teacher will be quite likely to find some for him in the text, and he will see that language lessons belong to language and are not like grammar which, according to his view, is a thing apart, partaking somewhat of the nature of the study of a foreign tongue.

In a word, his reader should be his study-room, his supplementary readingbooks his play-ground. Until the subject-matter has been gone over once at least, his supplementary reader, unless the work in it is like that which he is described as doing with "Young Wide Awake," should be interrupted only by such criticism as may spontaneously arise. The free influx of the author's thought and feeling, the free expression of the pupil's conception of the same, should be unhindered by the looking up of words and references. This reading should be the test of the pupil's ability. It should be sight-reading always. In his reader he reads for profit. Let him here read for pure pleasure if he will; for, if the subject-matter be worthy, and he reads it with "zest and the spirit of honest delight," you may know that he is "drinking in the author's soul-power, and that what he is drinking is going to the right

spot."

The work done in the "reader" should partake of this character. The easier selections only, should be read until the mind and soul expand to the conquest of the harder ones. Let us have no "book-gluttony and lesson