supposes such and such things to be correct, which was my own case; but twelve months only of practical effort very soon convinced me I was wrong.  How frequently, for instance, may we find children, ten or twelve years of age, who cannot answer the most simple question, and who, nevertheless, have been to school for several years.  To give the children correct notions, is a part of education seldom thought of:  but if we really wish to form the character of the rising generation, and to improve the condition of society generally, the utmost attention must be given to this object.  Little, I should think, need be said to prove, that few ideas are given in dame-schools.  There may be a few as to which an exception should be made; but, generally speaking, where the children of mechanics are usually sent before the age of seven years, no such thing is thought of.  The mind of a child is compared by Mr. Locke to a sheet of blank paper, and if it be the business of a tutor to inscribe valuable lessons on the mind, it will require much patience, gentleness, perseverance, self-possession, energy, knowledge of human nature, and, above all, piety,—­simple, sincere, and practical piety,—­to accomplish so great a work with propriety and success.

Whoever is in possession of these requisites, with the addition of a lively temper, pleasing countenance, and some knowledge of music, may be considered as a proper person to manage an infant school; and whoever has charge of such an institution will find numerous opportunities of displaying each and all of these qualifications.  It would be almost useless to attempt to cure the bad tempers of children, if the master should encourage and manifest such evil tempers in his own conduct; for children are not indifferent to what they see in others:  they certainly take notice of all our movements, and consequently the greatest caution is necessary.  It will be of little purpose to endeavour to inculcate suitable precepts in the minds of the children, unless they see them shine forth in the conduct of the teacher.

How strangely it would sound, if, when a teacher was explaining to his pupils the sin of swearing, a child should say, “Please, sir, I heard you swear;” and it is just the same as to those faults which some may consider of minor importance,—­such as the indulgence of angry passions,—­in the presence of children.  It must always be understood, that the essence of the plan is to allow the children to speak,—­not what they do not feel and think, which has been but too general,—­but what they do think and feel.  This children will always do if rightly trained.  Yes, with modesty and decorum, but with power!  What will the old class of pedagogues say to this?  What! allow pupils to tell you of your faults!  Certainly; they know them; at least, those committed in their presence.  They talk of them to themselves, why not to us?  Some of the best lessons I ever got were under similar circumstances.