But what, if one should enter the teacher's calling with no definite object before him? Aimless and perhaps heartless, the results of such a teacher's work must be as uncertain as shooting in a dense fog, and as precarious as the crops of the frigid zone. Dull routine and intellectual chaos must result. In ancient Sparta, an extremely arbitrary system prevailed .Personal liberty, genius, and preference were totally disregarded. The individual was sunk in the state. To make him a sturdy soldier, able to withstand external foes and more than a match for a rebellious slave at home, was the supreme aim,-and to this end his food and his fasting, his work and his play, his knowledge and his ignorance, his religion and his marriage, nay, even the privilege of existence were subordinated. Individual tastes availed nothing when the state laid its iron hand upon the child, and parental affection was impotent to save the unfortunate weakling in a country whose only hospitals and asylums were the wolves of Mt. Taygetus. A system thus arbitrary and repressive may answer very well for a despotism, monarchical or aris tocratic, but for a free people, who must think, act, and assume responsibilities as individuals, and where the largest personal liberty is granted and the fullest opportunities for the highest development and culture, it would be manifestly unfit. How different the ideal at Athens, where music, the drama, art, oratory and literature were all encouraged, where beauty was prized for its own sake, where the highest education then to be had was obtainable, and where the liberty and nobility of the individual were recognized. Athens was the center of the world's culture for many generations, attracting Cicero and hundreds of other Roman youths who aspired to the highest education, and could find there what they could find nowhere else. How much the world is indebted to Athens to-day, it would indeed be difficult to tell. But I wish to be practical, and to come to our own times. We find our educational system resting principally on two broad and substantial foundations: first, the legislation of the several state governments, and, secondly, private benevolence. It is true that private enterprise, apart from benevolence, is doing not a little; and also that the national government, by its Bureau of Education, by its guardianship of the Smithsonian Institution, by its munificent donations to the States for the founding of agricultural colleges, by its two appropriations of one thirty-sixth of the public lands to school purposes, and by its naval and military schools, exerts no inconsiderable influence. Yet when the amount thus expended is compared with the vast sums expended by the several States and by the various churches, the result remains as stated. Now the question, What is the True Object of the School? may be discussed in behalf of the state, the church, and the pupil. The state justly seeks to provide for her own perpetuity and progress. And in the belief that intelligence and virtue are necessary to secure both these ends, as early as 1787, an ordinance was passed declaring that "religion, morality and knowledge being necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind, schools and the means of education shall forever be encouraged." The state justly seeks to prevent pauperism and crime,; to secure that general intelligence which our system of government presupposes; to develop her own resources by affording the means for acquiring skill in mining, manufacturing, chemistry, engineering and agriculture; and to provide itself with skilled officers of the army and navy for the nation's defense. These propositions contain a good deal, and I know not but they contain the reasons for some measure of compulsory education, adapted to our free institutions. The experiments now making in some of the States will, we trust, soon settle that question. The church justly hopes through her system of education to provide and qualify a sufficient number of workers, both lay and clerical, to carry on her ever-enlarging operations, and to impart to all who at tend her institutions, together with intellectual training, a due respect for, and some acquaintance with, the doctrines and practice of Christianity; and this end, it will be seen, is in perfect keeping with the original national ordinance just read. As for the pupil, for whom these benefits are immediately designed, his aims may be as multifarious as the views of the kaleidoscope. He is not competent, at his inexperienced age, to direct his education. Such frivolous motives may actuate him as love of company, love of play, fancied like or dislike of the teacher, desire to escape work, or on the other hand, a truly noble and worthy ambition. But I shall assume that at a mature age his purpose ought to be, as that of his parents, if intelligent, now is, to develop most fully his mental and moral powers, to gain a good idea of the world's work, and a practical fitness and disposition to engage in it. Now such being the ends to be attained, what objects ought the teacher, who stands at the focus of influence as representative of all the parties named, as sole executor of this important trust, to propose to himself? Evidently he must be thoroughly prepared to impart— I. Instruction. The child by nature is utterly ignorant of the mode in which it is to live and act. But its mind is endowed with an ardent desire for knowledge of external objects. Precisely at this time are its perceptive faculties wonderfully acute and sensitive. What could be more rational than that this natural instinct should be gratified, and that it should be fed with the solid nutriment of information and knowledge? Thus its curiosity is constantly rewarded and rendered still more ardent. What more stupid and absurd than to cram the child's mind with the lifeless husks of worthless and, to it, unmeaning knowledge? As with indigestible food, it can only produce distress and ultimate disgust. How many teachers could give an instructively painful experience, drawn from their own early training! I am happy to know that in all our best schools this monstrous incubus of past centuries has been abolished. Yet some still say, "Although the child can not at present understand the subject, I shall have him memorize the words now, because when older he will remember and understand them." Yes, but you imperil, by the act, the child's interest in all learning. The burdens of the horse, laid too early upon the colt, can only produce a worthless animal. Some will have their pupils forever in fairy land. Such readers are chosen, such subjects for composition assigned, such stories told, as merely stimulate the imagination without leaving a grain of truth behind. This is not instruction, it is mental dissipation. Let the noble faculty of imagination be used for the lofty purpose of wafting truth on silken wings to the mind, but let it not revel in aimless wantonness. Others are constantly presenting knowledge to their pupils in the form which is most palatable to their own minds. The same metaphysical, mathematical and linguistic puzzles which engage their own thoughts, far from interesting, may only weary and disgust their pupils. We too often forget that knowledge, like food, is relative: it must be adapted to the recipient in both quantity and quality, to be beneficial. Why should not every exercise of the school, even when amusing, be instructive and convey some useful knowledge? Doubtless there might be some drill and discipline afforded in counting a million, but life is too short tor such unprofitable exercises. There is absolutely no limit to the really interesting and profitable truth in science, morals, history and literature, that may be presented; and as truth is the natural aliment of the mind, no exercise can be more congenial to both teacher and pupil. But the mind is more than a receptacle, and proper instruction will lead to II. Education or development. The true teacher not only instructs, he educates. He is delighted to see the mental powers of his pupils expand, and is sometimes astonished at the advancement of some. Truly the mind is greater than its knowledge, and many emergencies in life arise, that demand a clear and decisive judgment which no mere instruction can give. I am happy that better ideas prevail as to mental discipline, than formerly. What a wretched hobby it has been made, to carry a huge mass of intellectual lumber, chiefly valuable for the time and labor it has cost. The idea is fast disappearing that all knowledge, however remote or unpractical, is equally beneficial to the child, and that any mental exercises, however little they enlist the interest or engage the reason, are profitable. And our best colleges, I think I say it with due respect-modifying their courses as they are, to adapt themselves more fully to the age, have some adjustments yet to make before they afford the best training for the world in which we now live. But not only will the true teacher seek to impart instruction and to secure a true education, but also to giveIII. Inspiration and to develop character. This is the crowning grace, without which all else will fail. This was the chief excellence of the famous Dr. Arnold, of Rugby; this the magic chord which rivited the attention of Garfield's students upon him. Others, no doubt, have taught with more technical correctness, who did not effect one-half. the good. The beaming eye, the animated countenance, the mind fully alert in all the class,—these tell their own story. If, then, the teacher is possessed of a noble, lofty soul, of high moral, Christian purpose, the good accomplished is incalculable. Many receive such an intellectual and moral uplifting that from common drones and plodders, they are transformed and almost re-created.. How often, alas! have we seen instruction enough, but no inspiration! A cold, cheerless manner, a metallic tone, a snappish disposition, have destroyed all the good that might else have been done. Indeed the poet's words might be changed so as to say of their unfortunate scholars : "Chill petulance repressed their noble rage, Fellow-teachers, if we would discharge fully our responsible trust, if we would enshrine our memory in the love and gratitude of our pupils, let us instruct thoroughly and wisely; but more, preeminently more, let us seek to inspire them with a love of all that is true, beautiful and good. A kind word has given courage to more than one despondent heart; and, struck by a cruel word, more than one gentle spirit has sobbed itself into the grave.-Dr. Mears. CROSS-QUESTIONING. BY H. L. PECK, BARNESVILLE, OHIO. Not "cross" questioning, but cross-questioning. In suits at law the cross-examination is considered, from one point of view, more important than the direct. It is in cross-examination that the truth or falsity of the witness's story is made more apparent. The direct examination is ordinarily a simple and easy affair for him. He tells his story, usually in his own way, in language previously well considered, under the guidance of an examiner who is desirous of making the situation the easiest possible for him. No difficulties are thrown in the way; but on the contrary, so far as the rules of evidence will permit, the way is smoothed, and the character of the desired answer indicated. On the other hand, the purpose of the cross-examiner is to test the quality of the witness's knowledge, to ascertain the grounds upon which it is based, and to determine the accuracy and truthfulness of his statements; to ascertain whether he is rehearsing a well-learned tale in support of a theory, or speaking truth for truth's sake-truth which he knows to be truth. A fact is always consistent with every other fact. There are no quarrels, clashings or contradictions between facts. Hence it requires no art, no coaching, no guarding against surprises, to speak the truth. It is the lying witness, or the witness who states supposition, opinion, or hear-say for fact, who must needs be on guard against surprise at the hands of the cross-examiner, and whose fabric falls before the warm and well-directed fire of skillful cross-examination. No amount of cross-examination can demolish the story of a witness who knows what he attempts to tell, and who confines himself strictly to the line of facts. He knows whereof he speaks, and regardless of all attempts to trap him into making statements contradictory of his original ones, he adheres to them with the constancy and tenacity of truth itself, and all attempts to break him down serve but to render the truth and harmony of his testimony more apparent. No lawyer can become a skillful trial-lawyer until he is an artist in this branch of his profession; and I believe the statement is equally true of the teacher. To repeat the questions too often found in our textbooks, or to frame those which may be directly answered in the language of the text, is an extremely simple matter; any one can do that. To construct questions which, like the surgeon's lance, with one quick, incisive thrust, shall go straight through a wordy inflation and reveal its emptiness; to put questions which, like the pruning-knife, shall clip here a little and there a little from the tree of the pupil's supposed knowledge until nothing remains but |