ments and temptations. Such a discipline is the safeguard of purity. Kindness.-If a child is trained to be kind in early years the habit will equalise and smooth his after-course. It will save him from offensiveness and quarrels, from litigiousness and cruelty, and the hate which these dispositions bring. The child should be taught to be civil and kind to all, to forgive injuries,* never allowed to give nicknames, never allowed to domineer over inferiors, or to injure animals. It is a hopeful index of a child's future when the death of a favourite bird or cat affects him grievously. One could have wished that the following contest had been omitted from Archbishop Whately's memoirs, still more that it had been omitted from his life. "One morning the future prelate had shot a crow. 'This,' said he, will make a capital supper for Bishop.' That, I think, was the name of his dog. Accordingly he brought the crow home, and handed it to the landlady with instructions how it was to be dressed for doggy. In due time it made its appearance, looking, I must confess, anything but tempting for a human stomach, and the dog seemed to think it as little suited to canine nature, for he turned his back on it disdainfully and slunk into a corner. Whately endeavoured to coax him into an appetite for it, and from coaxing changed his * One of the most beautiful instances of forgiveness was exhibited by a child. The Dauphin (Louis XVII.) had been imprisoned, deprived of air, exercise and wholesome food, and kept in squalid filth. His brutal gaoler said to him one day: "Capet, if the Vendeans were to succeed in delivering you and placing you on the throne, what would you do with me?". "I would pardon you," was the royal answer of the royal child. tone to that of remonstrance and rebuke, all to no purpose. It now became a contest between the will of the master and that of the animal. Whately resolved to carry his point. The dish was put away until the following day. Morning, noon, and night the same thing recurred; the more Whately laboured to induce Bishop, the more Bishop seemed determined not to yield, and the dish was remanded to yet another day. On the following morning when the dog was called, and, as before, shown the boiled crow, he paused for some minutes, eyed it with a look which deserved to be immortalised by Landseer, uttered a sharp yelp, and pouncing on the hateful mess devoured it as furiously as ever New Zealander did the flesh of his enemy, Whately all the while shouting, 'Good dog, good dog!' The victory was gained, but there was no more crow cooking.”* This un; worthy triumph is here reproduced partly to show that a word on kindness to animals is not out of place in a book for the educated classes. A pleasing contrast is found in the life of Cowper. The poet has immortalised his leverets, and his leverets have immortalisede him. He had twice nursed one of these creatures, and restored it to health. The animal on each of these two occasions, and only then, expressed its gratitude most significantly by licking his hand, first the back of it, then the parlm, then every finger separately, then between all the fingers, as if anxious to leave no part of it unsaluted.t * "Life of Archbishop Whately," i. 22. Kindness to animals is such an important element of education that the example of Bishop Heber may also be adduced. A fellow in India brought him two little leverets quite unfit to eat. The bishop reproved the man for bringing such poor little things from their mother. All the crowd of camel-drivers and camp-followers expressed great satisfaction and an entire concurrence in this censure. The bishop promised the man some money if he would take them back to the very spot where he had picked them up. Two stout waggoner's boys immediately volunteered their services to go and keep him to his contract. On another occasion the bishop was advised to take off a joint of his horse's tail. "It was known that by how much the tail was made shorter, so much the taller the horse grew." He answered, He answered, "I could not believe that God gave any animal a limb too much, or one that tended to its disadvantage, and that as He had made my horse so he should remain."* The bishop was also very kind to his elephants; had their allowance increased, and, that they might not be wronged, ordered the mahout to give them all their grain in presence of a sentry. IV. Training of the Intellect.—All education is comparatively valueless unless it imparts judgment. Even religion itself is of small account, and is apt to be contemned, if it is seen to be injudicious. We cannot prevent children from imbibing the maxims, tastes, and "This theory of the bishop is more modest than the opinion of Sir William Gull, who supposes that man has superfluous members, such as the diverticulum of the ileum."-Lancet, Feb. 3 and 10, opinions prevalent in society; but we shall do much. to counteract mischief if we teach them to exercise their judgment as a filter to their belief. Happy is the child that is thus taught to reason and judge, instead of being positively imbued with prejudices and antipathies. Even excellent and well-meaning men are apt to err in this respect. The saintly and gifted Keble affords a somewhat humiliating illustration, when he tells us how he indoctrinated his little nephew. "Tom and I set to work and gave little Tom a regular lecture in Toryism and High Churchmanship in a large folio Clarendon with prints. He snaps at all the Roundheads, and kisses all the Cavaliers."* It is wise to teach children early to judge of things by their essential reality, and not by their outward appendages. Even grown-up people judge by the outside, which they would scarcely do if they had been taught to scrutinize in youth. We might teach children an object lesson in this way. Suppose we could remove the gorgeous plumage from the bird of paradise, and dress it in a homely sparrow's feathers. What then? Why, then, our admiration dies. Conceive, in the same way, kings stripped of their crowns, dukes of their coronets, scholars of their hoods, and rich men of their wealth; then judge them. One of the most frequent fallacies consists in judging by the event. We should judge, and we should teach children to judge, of things without reference to the result. If they act imprudently, and yet the result is prosperous, they should blame themselves as much as * Life, p. 181. if they had failed; and if they act prudently, and yet the result is unfortunate, they should be almost as much satisfied as if they had succeeded. The conduct is theirs; the issue is God's. It would be of incalculable benefit to children, if they were tenderly and discreetly taught the knowledge of themselves. How often people grow up in deplorable ignorance of that which is near at home! How often do other people know us better than we know ourselves! How often is our character visible to all observers, like a brooch which every one but the wearer sees! 66 Thousands are busy training up children in the way that they should not go, and that ought to stimulate us to train ours up in the way that they should go; and we have the great encouragement of a divine promise, that 'when they are old they will not depart from it." A youth may go astray for a time; but while experiencing the emptiness of the world, the memories of the past will keep ringing in his ears. Then conscience awakens as one that had been stunned, not dead. Judgment is reinstated, and prefers the innocence of childhood to the sinfulness of youth. Under the influence of these feelings, oftentimes it happens that the wanderer imitates Noah's dove, and gladly goes back to the ark again. To Children are exposed to powerful influences, and that at a time when their nature is very susceptible; and, therefore, we who have the prerogative of choice, ought to bring them under influences that are wholesome. a great extent they will be what we make them. When we hear a man plead habit as an extenuation of a fault, we are apt to think that he is wholly responsible for |