interior of the house. Metaphors are not always sound arguments, and they sometimes delude by fancied analogies. The one in question will not, perhaps, be deemed conclusive by the disciples of the short-cut system, for a question still arises as to the object which the aspirant has in view. For some purposes it is obvious that the shortest way of getting into the house de facto whether by the window or up the staircase, is the best; and for others it may be of more importance to take into view the collateral advantages attending particular steps of the progress, such as what the passenger may see, admire or learn on his way, and what sort of a figure he is to cut when he has made good his admission. In this way it seems to us that the question stands for preliminary discussion as to education. It is obvious, that there may be two distinct classes of scholars; first, those who want to learn thoroughly, and who, in so learning, regard not so much the mere matter to be acquired as the mental discipline involved in the process; and, secondly, another class, whose only object it may be to acquire by rote, for a given purpose, with the least possible expense of time and mental labour, the greatest number of words, (as, in fact, a child does in a foreign land,) without caring in the least for any collateral objects. The establishment, therefore, of any system, as an expeditious mode of teaching either lazy men, idle boys, or parrots, a given number of words, would be very far, even if effected, from settling the question, whether the present system of education, judiciously applied, is bad, or the Hamiltonian scheme, as adapted to the exigencies of a school-boy, any thing better than a mischievous quackery.

The basis of the argument for subverting the old system of induction and investigation, rests on the assumption, that in education (without distinction as to the subjects of it) the object in view is the acquirement of the Latin and Greek, or whatever else is to be learnt, in the quickest mauner and with the least labour. We humbly conceive this to be a gross fallacy. In the education of a boy, (whom, of course, we assume to have the proper time and means before him,) habits of attention and industry are to be acquired, and a long course of mental discipline patiently cultivated. For this purpose some species of severe study must be assumed. Experience and common consent have pointed out the learned languages, not only as being useful as means for the purposes of culture and discipline, but as being in themselves worthy of attainment as ends. Whether, however, the latter part of the proposition were true or not, and if these languages were not per se objects worthy of the pains to be taken in their acquirement, it would be difficult to divine a branch of study in which the gymnastics of the mind could have better scope: it is fortunate that the two objects coalesce so well as they do; and that we should have the consolation of reflecting, that, in going through a laborious process, a valuable store of great and excellent materials is acquired, and indelibly fixed in the mind. If this be so, the question is not how Greek and Latin are to be packed into the memory fastest, but how that Greek or Latin, or whatever else we take for the basis of our training process, is to be acquired in the manner most conducive to the primary object of discipline and invigoration. The Hamiltonians assume labour, analysis and induction to be in themselves bad-we call them the good of the process. We look to the labour of the first ascent as bracing the sinews for further exertions. Beautifully has Milton said, "I shall straight conduct you to a hill-side, where I will point you the right path of a virtuous and noble education; laborious, indeed, at first ascent, but else so smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospects, and melodious sounds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus was not more charming.”—“ The chief object," Dr. Jones

observes, "is the developement of mind in the learner; and it is clear that that end is most effectually answered, not by what is done for him in a literal version, but by what general rules and habits of analysis enable him to do for himself.”

It is said, however, that, though it may be necessary, in order to acquire a scholar-like proficiency, that the learned languages should be studied by a slow and somewhat painful process, yet that in so doing we sacrifice other more important objects; that, in short, on the present plan every thing else is given up to the acquirement of these languages as the single end and object of education. We answer, that if it be so, there is no necessity for it; that because one thing is done well, it does not follow that every thing, or that any thing else, should be done ill; on the contrary, that doing one thing well lays a foundation for proficiency in others. A youth well taught and disciplined in his main pursuit is notoriously the one who, with the least difficulty and most success turns to another, when he comes to an age to do so with any beneficial effect. If the tutor or parent is so stupid as to sacrifice the end to the means, and to think that when the foundation is well laid there is no need of a superstructure, he must be left to his own folly. The truth is, that it is only in modern days that a theory has been industriously propagated by minds seeking an apology for laziness and slovenliness, that an excuse may be found for the neglect of the rudiments of sound education in an assumption that, if the latter had been duly cultivated, the more showy (or, as they are pleased to call them, the more useful) acquirements must have been sacrificed. We should be glad to be informed what pursuits there are which can be usefully substituted as the basis, as the principal employment of the hours of study, between the ages say of 8 or 9 and 15 or 16, for those which form the usual basis of education; and we would also inquire, with what objects which can be cultivated to much purpose during those ages, the pursuit of classical studies needs to clash? It seems to us, that there are none of the scientific or physical facts proposed to be thrust by the hot-bed system into a boy's head, which he will not acquire without the least difficulty, when he has spent his early years in habits of industry and precision. There are still left to him hours and years of study in which he may acquire whatever his taste, inclination or ultimate calling may dictate. If he is intended for a learned profession, has the time really necessary for a sound acquaintance with the classics trenched an hour upon whatever time could be at all usefully directed in those years towards the more peculiar studies of his future profession? What pretence is there for our theologians, for instance, endeavouring to excuse a disgraceful ignorance of the rudiments of all sound education, by pretending that they have been better employing their time, when the truth must almost always be, that those years which ought to have been sedulously employed in pursuits properly adapted to them have been thrown away? Our standard of education has, so far as regards the severer studies, become too low-far lower than it was, for instance, among the Dissenters a century ago, notwithstanding our increased facilities. Theologians of old regarded the learned languages as the tools of their trade, the first acquisition to be made, without which they would not have considered themselves competent to commence. They not only read but wrote with facility in the learned languages, and would never have expected to see men, ignorant of their very elements, set up for theologians, and cover their deficiencies under the pretext of regard for higher objects, which it is quite time enough to begin upon, when the master-key has been

attained by that patient industry which can alone lay the foundation of permanent excellence.

But supposing the old and more severe course of study to be the best for ensuring real proficiency, it will still be said, that there may be (and no doubt there are) many persons to whom speedy acquisition is the end in view, and who cannot take into consideration collateral objects. This particularly applies to modern languages. These persons would never, perhaps, think of, and indeed could not afford, the patient drudgery with which a school-boy, who has all his full course before him, must wade through difficulties that gradually vanish away. An older and stronger mind shrinks from these difficulties; it seeks a quicker path, and it may often find it. But it should be remarked, that experience shews attainments so made to be always of an imperfect character. This class of scholars, who have borne the title of us, are proverbially below the level of real proficiency, but to persons so situated this may be all they can afford to reach. To them the Hamiltonians should peculiarly direct their anti-attrition system for smoothing the jarring ruggednesses of the road to knowledge.

It appears, indeed, to us à priori in the highest degree probable that for such persons, as well as for certain classes of schools for those boys, who cannot go through a more complete course, a readier and more expeditious plan than the old one may in many points be adopted. In this view it becomes important to consider the merits of the Hamiltonian or any other process that may profess to give those who can afford only a limited time a more extended quantum of knowledge. This is in truth a matter of calcula tion and experiment. Even here the sturdy advocates of old ways would, perhaps, contend that the slow plan of learning a few words thoroughly in the given time, is more useful in the end than packing a great many into the memory imperfectly. Supposing that in a given time at the commencement less was actually learned on the old than on the new plan, it might be said, that it is by no means clear that the old plan may not improve the capacity more than the new, so as to facilitate the result of future experiments by those habits which a severer course of discipline will excite and cultivate.

On this part of the subject we shall quote Dr. Jones's summary of the Hamiltonian system, with the opening of his vigorous attack upon its fundamental principles, addressed to the Edinburgh Reviewer:

"Mr. Hamilton's system, as far as it is peculiar, consists in three things: first, in excluding the use of the grammar and dictionary; secondly, in affixing to each term one undeviating signification, however differently applied; and thirdly, in prescribing to the pupils a Key, containing a closely literal version. On each of these heads I shall make a few brief remarks. And with regard to the first, I observe that the Latin and Greek Grammars furnish systems of general principles as necessary to construe the simplest sentence, as the knowledge of the letters is for reading. I here suppose the attention of the learner to be at first directed solely to general principles; such as the declensions of nouns, adjectives, pronouns, and the conjugations of verbs, without dwelling on exceptions or technical rules of syntax, until he shall have made some progress in construing.

Mr. Hamilton professes to teach ten thousand words in ten lessons of one hour each; and this vast multitude of words he finds in the Gospel of John. This circumstance at once falsifies the assertion. The Gospel of John is the simplest of all narratives, and consists not of many words, but of the same words, and those the most common, repeated some more or less in every verse from beginning to end. Exclude the indeclinable particles, such as the

pre

positions and conjunctions, and the aggregate of all the terms will hardly amount to ten thousand. Here, then, we discover the grossest imposture. Reduce the repetition of every word, and the variety of terminations under which each appears, to one, and the ten thousand dwindle down to a few hundreds. The Iliad and Odyssey of Homer exceed sixty thousand verses; each of these on an average contains six words. All the words in these poems then amount to three hundred and sixty thousand; and at the rate of ten thousand in ten lessons, or one thousand in one lesson, a pupil of Mr. Hamilton will learn three hundred and sixty thousand words in three hundred and sixty lessons or three hundred and sixty hours!

"This immense volume of words must be learnt by mere dint of memory, without any aid from the understanding, unassisted by analogy or any general principle whatever: and yet, for the honour of his consistency, Mr. Hamilton asserts that nothing is learnt by rote in his establishment!!"

"But after the pupil has made some progress in the knowledge of words, 'a grammar,' says Mr. Hamilton, containing the declensions and conjuga tions, and printed specially for my classes, is then put into the pupil's hands, (not to be got by heart,-nothing is ever got by rote on this system,) but that he may comprehend more readily his teacher on grammar generally, but especially on the verbs.' This paragraph, if it contain any truth, is a tacit acknowledgment that his own system turns out impracticable, and he is obliged, after abusing the confidence and misapplying the talents of his pupils, to return to the established method of learning the grammar. He finds his scholars sinking on one hand under the difficulty of retaining in their minds a mass of words half learnt and half barbarous, and incapable on the other of mastering the still greater mass that lies before them, and he slily retreats with the pupils in his train to teach that at last which he ought to have taught from the beginning,-the inflexions of nouns and verbs. These inflexions after all are not to be got by heart,-nothing is to be got by rote on this system; no, a knowledge of a comparatively few terminations which would reduce a million of words into a few thousands, and of thousands into a few hundreds, is not to be got by heart. This is said in the same breath where the pupils are said to have learnt ten thousand words, and that by the exertion of the memory, What drudgery can be more painful than this? What abuse of time, what trouble on the part of well-disposed young men can be more gross and more fruitless? And what more stupid, more wanton and inconsistent on the side

of the master?

"A child in his fifth year learns the names, figures and powers of the letters, puts them together so as to form syllables, and is thus enabled to read. A person starts up and professes to have invented a system which supersedes all this trouble, and he teaches to read without the necessity of learning the alphabet. He takes a child for his pupil yet not knowing his letters, and he points his attention to some such sentence as the following: The God who made me is great and good.' The master puts his pencil on the first word, directing him to look at it, and teaching him to utter the sound the. This he repeats in connexion with the figure, till the child can distinguish and enunciate it, wherever he discovers it in the page. He leads his pupil through the same process in regard to the succeeding words, till he acquires the whole sentence: in the course of a fortnight he extends, by continued attention, the acquisition of his little scholar over several pages. The master then takes the child to his parents; and he fills them with surprise and delight. Unable to contain the important discovery, they tell their neighbours of a wonderful art invented by a certain clever man, of reading without the trouble of learning the alphabet. He again resumes his charge; but, as he proceeds, he finds the task increasing in difficulty, till it becomes impracticable. He returns, therefore, to the first elements; and his pupil, after much labour lost, and after being raised in his own conceit far above the letters, has now the mortification to find that he must after all learn them. The cheat is then discovered,

and the professor is laughed to scorn.-This will be found the exact parallel of Mr. Hamilton.

"I now proceed to the second head of his system, thus contained in his own words: I have said that each word is translated by its one sole, undeviating meaning, assuming as an incontrovertible principle in all languages, that, with very few exceptions, each word has one meaning only, and can usually be rendered correctly into another by one word only, which one word should serve for its representative at all times and all occasions.'

"You found it necessary, Sir, to disguise the strange doctrine advanced by the author in this paragraph. Mr. Hamilton,' you say, has expressed himself loosely but he, perhaps, means no more than to say that in school translations, the metaphysical meaning should never be adopted, when the word can be rendered by its primary signification.' If you thought proper to dispense critical justice with impartiality on this occasion, you would have remarked that the man who could advance a position so absurd, must be a total stranger to the theory of language, and never could have submitted in English or Greek a single sentence to a correct analysis.

"The meaning of words depends on the association of ideas; and to say that each word has but one sole idea, is to say that the idea at first annexed to a term cannot be altered by subsequent associations. All associations are in continued flux; and the same word, as it is associated with different words in different connexions, must hence borrow a new shade which modifies its primary signification."-Pp. 4-7.

After enumerating several striking instances in which the Hamiltonian plan imprints nonsense on the mind, with as much labour as need be used to give sound and rational impressions, Dr. Jones proceeds:

"Remarks like these might be much further pursued: I give them as specimens of what an intelligent master would furnish his pupils, as they proceed in construing Greek. They form a criterion whereby to judge of Mr. Hamilton's translation; and they warrant the three following conclusions: first, that to form a Key like his, no other qualification is necessary than an ability, by means of a dictionary or by the help of the common version, to annex an English word to the corresponding word in the Greek Testament; -secondly, that Mr. Hamilton's plan is improperly called a system: he should rather have called it an anti-system, as it is constructed on the absence of every general principle, which renders the study of language rational, instructive and agreeable. It appears, indeed, from his own words, that he considers language as not founded in reason: and he has done all that he could, instead of calling forth, to extinguish the rational faculties in the acquisition of it.

"My third conclusion is, that while Mr. Hamilton's method exercises the memony alone, he has, by studied perversion, rendered what is to be stored in the memory most irksome and repulsive. If he thought fit to present his scholars in the form of a Key with a jargon at once uncouth, ungrammatical, and scarcely intelligible, he ought as a competent master to have supplied them with some intermediate ideas, by which they might convert it into sense and grammar."-Pp. 14, 15.

He thence proceeds to discuss some of the positions of the Edinburgh Reviewers, whose object it appears to be "to discourage the use of the dictionary as a wretched waste of time, and to recommend literal translations as a great saving of time;" not, however, espousing the cause of Mr. Hamilton's versions. After observing upon the use and abuse of a dictionary under a judicious instructor, and the necessity of teaching a boy to follow the significations of a word from its primitive, through its various derivative senses, as an exercise for his inductive and reasoning faculties, he adds,

"I will now suppose the Tyro, of whom I speak, to begin Greek, and have,