one of the best classes in spelling I ever had was taught only one new word a day for several months in the low eighth grade, but they were constantly reviewed. To proceed with this first spelling lesson: I write these words on the board with the syllables a little separated, like this: "news pa per," "stock ings," etc. At a given signal, pupils take position, and look at the words on the board. (It is needless to hint how necessary it is to have order and prompt obedience, as without these there can be no good results). Now, if this lesson is made interesting and pleasant, as it should be by conducting it in a sprightly, wide-awake manner, the attention can very easily be held for 10 minutes or so, and that is the length of time we take for studying. When the children all look at the words, I make sure they can pronounce these words, by pointing to them promiscuously, and letting the class merely repeat them, sometimes in concert, sometimes individually, calling upon listless or dull pupils. This takes a few seconds only. Then I deal with each word like this: Take the first word, "newspaper," as a as a sample. It is written "news pa per," as you know. I ask questions about it to excite interest. "How many parts or syllables has it?" They answer, "Three." "What is the first part?" "News." "Second part?" "pa." "Third syllable?" "per." Then I tell them to spell new and tack on an 8. What have we then? News. I ask them what sound a has in the second part, and to spell pa. I treat the third syllable in the same way. I ask them why it is called a newspaper, and how many of them read the newspapers? They like to answer such questions, and it is merely a device for fixing their minds on the word. Of course, I cannot afford to spend so much time on every word, nor is it necessary. I would select the hardest or most interesting word for this. My children are always on the alert for a surprise of this kind. After this little talk, I have them repeat slowly several times, "news pa per," without spelling, but looking at the word all the time. This makes them familiar with the appearance and sound of each syllable, thus training the eye and ear together. Short, easy words do not require so much drill, and some words which they have had in lower grades, I pass over. I suppose some of you have had trouble with the word "story,' story," in the first lesson. They put two "r's" in it. This is because they pronounce it wrong. If they were taught to say "sto-ry" several times slowly, and made to look well at "sto," it would be quite simple. Under "catchy" words I draw lines or make curves like this: "Be(lie)ve." (Please illustrate), drawing their attention to the most difficult part. Children like variety; they get tired of sameness. So, sometimes, we "build" words, suggested by such a word as "cold," in the first lesson. I write "old" several times in a vertical line, and let them give me letters to prefix to this syllable. They will readily form "bold, fold, hold, gold, mold, told and sold." Some child will be sure to say "rolled;" but I do not take it, telling them it does not belong to this family of words. Such syllables as "air," "ear," "each," etc., may be built upon profitably even in the seventh grade. This

"word-building" may be extended, and is very useful in associating words which are spelled alike, besides assisting pupils to know simple sounds. Another pleasant and interesting exercise, which I sometimes give, is in leading them to find out how some hard words are formed. Take "pleasant," for instance. They look at it, and very soon one will say, "please." Then I show them how the "e" is dropped and "ant" added. In this way they will tell how "bigger" is formed from "big;" "robber," from "rob,” Without realizing it they, from this, understand several rules for spelling. I never give such rules to be learned; but it is well to let children compare and discover for themselves. With one remark, I shall close the most important division of this subject. I never let pupils study spelling alone. I let them copy words daily, either before or after I study them with pupils, and I always spend a few minutes in overlooking slates, as it makes children more careful—a thing never to be lost sight of in teaching spelling.

This brings me to my second topic, or "Written spelling.'

We study ten minutes every afternoon. The next morning I dictate these ten words. I pronounce a word as people say it; then the class say it aloud once. I have them stop a moment to spell it to themselves, and to think how it looks; then I say, "write," and while they are writing I pronounce it again. I generally put difficult words into sentences as I dictate them. Sometimes I correct their work; but prefer to have them exchange and do it themselves, while I overlook their books or slates afterward. Having ascertained the words failed upon most, I make a list of them for future use. When the books are returned, I let them write each one mis-spelled, once, and sometimes have them spell such words orally. I do not, as a rule, keep pupils, at recess, or other times, to write wrong words correctly a great many times, as it is apt to make them careless in writing. I used to do it, but have found from experience that my better method of teaching spelling gives me more satisfactory results, and I do not need to work at recesses. You will find that from two

thirds to five-sixths of your class will get perfect on the written work by adopting this plan. It will depend somewhat on the way the class has been taught in the lower grades.

Now, the third topic, or "Oral spelling," is not very important, as the true test of a child's knowledge is in his ability to write correctly. So I generally devote only five or ten minutes daily to hearing children spell such words as they mis-spell most in the preceding written lesson and review words. Once in two weeks, on Friday afternoons, I have a spelling match for about twenty minutes. Children always enjoy this. In oral spelling, I insist on their pronouncing the word first; then in spelling it in a clear, distinct, and not too loud a voice, stopping a moment after each syllable, but not pronouncing the syllable. I tell the pupils to spell themselves every word. I dictate with the one who is spelling. Of course, I cannot tell that they always do this, but sometimes I make believe I do by the looks of their eyes. Oral spelling is chiefly valuable in making children open

their mouths to be heard, and in fixing sounds. To recapitulate: ten minutes to copying words, ten minutes for showing them how to study, twenty minutes for written spelling (including correcting), and ten minutes for oral spelling, make about fifty minutes a day to spelling proper. Once a month I give a written examination, consisting of words, dictation, or sentence making. And now I have a few things so say about my last topic, "Dictation."

Some times we get seventh grade classes that are not prepared to take dictations alone. They cannot copy even the simplest sentence without such careless mistakes as the following: "n's" for "m's,,

for "w's," "1" for "b" or "h," "lj" for "ly," "less" for "ness." In writing words they leave off final "e" in such words as "have," "are," and "were." How often do we see "d-o-s-e" for "does," "t-h-o-e-s" for "those," "saw" for "was," and others with which you are too well acquainted. This is the result of careless copying, or no copying at all in the lower grades, and is a great oversight, not to say grievous error, on the part of the teacher. So I generally find it urgent, on taking a seventh grade, to spend as much or more time in copying words, sentences and short paragraphs than in dictation exercises. During the first quarter I spent about fifteen minutes daily on this exercise, and I find it invaluable. Dictation should at first be very short and carefully corrected. I begin with one sentence. Sentence-making and simple compositions we have often, and they greatly assist in spelling. When a child asks for a word which he needs and has never had, I put it on the the board for him to copy. I do this, even if he asks for "bicycle" or "elephant." I think children should be taught such words as they need to express themselves in speaking or writing, as this seems to me more practical. There are many words in the second reader which a child in the seventh grade never uses. I can think of a fewsought, cherished, lightsome, doth, cheerly, sleet, droll, slumber, lull, thou, hovels, effects, and a number of others, which I feel like omitting, and giving more common-sense, practical ones instead. But we must teach those because they are in the book, to the neglect of more necessary ones, for lack of time. I hope I have made my method plain, as I am sure it will benefit other teachers as it has me.

San Francisco.

KATE M. HICKEY.

THE EARLY CULTURE OF CHILDHOOD.

"To fashion himself, to fashion the world which God created, is the task of humanity as well as of the individual."

In treating this subject of early moral culture we will take it for granted that the unfolding of the child in the first two years of his life is more or less like the swelling of the bud in the plant in which every part predicts fullness, strength and beauty without showing

definitely in what form it may come to the sunlight. But the next year or two will determine whether the envelope encloses a thriving vine, a brilliant fragrant flower or a storm-defying oak; and during this important formative stage it should be a matter of the most earnest thought as to how we are to treat this individuality which slumbers in every human bud awaiting its development. How very important, then, it is that we should study and endeavor to employ the right means to call forth that treasure which lies hidden in every soul. If teachers rightly understood the nature and disposition of the child, and applied the knowledge with love and fidelity, the foundation would be laid in very early life for the later and fuller development of all those charming graces and noble virtues which make a true and beautiful life the most glorious thing in the universe of God. Is, then, intellectual without moral worth conceivable? Experience answers in the affirmative. However reluctant we may be to admit the existence of knowledge without a corresponding moral elevation, yet the life of man shows that even those with the highest intellectual gifts often deny and disregard the demands of morality. We are, therefore, compelled to take into consideration the moral training of childhood, and, indeed, it seems to us who are guardians of these children that the moral aim of education is the absolute one-all others are merely relative. The public mind has been so long accustomed to associate education exclusively with the idea of intellectual training, and parents in general are so apt to attach comparatively little value to the influence of good training in the formation of character, that I cannot help reiterating that the advantages of kindergarten culture, or the habitual society of other children all trying to lead a busy yet unselfish life, cannot be overestimated in the development and regulation of the higher part of the child's nature as well as the more practical side. Our best affections and purest emotions are only called out in their fullness by other human beings and in solitude would never be aroused. To develop the powers which God has given us, and turn them to purposes conducive to our happiness as well as that of others, we must associate with our fellows, and in our intercourse with them practice habitually justice, kindness, affection and forbearance. On the other hand, selfishness thrives in solitude, for the various faculties have for their incentives self alone, and the beings on whom we should pour out kindness and affection, and toward whom we should exercise patience and forbearance, being absent, all that is highest and most disinterested in us is necessarily deprived of its exercise and enjoyment. If our kindergartens were managed by a set of men who mistake dogmas and creeds for true religion, and many in our midst indulge in that curious impression, then they would simply be converted into seminaries for theological teaching and the inculcation of abtruse points of faith which no child could understand or practice. Such a course is too palpably in opposition to the development of the human faculties to succeed in affecting its aim, however worthy that of implanting religion in a child's mind at the earliest

age possible. Were the subjects to be inculcated any other than religious would we not act very differently and more naturally? Suppose the happiness of a man's life depended, not on his religious character but on the extent of his mathematical knowledge and the success of his applying it to the regulation of his conduct, the question would be, How can we educate him so as to secure to the greatest possible extent the knowledge so indispensable to his welfare? Ought we to begin in infancy to repeat the theorems in geometry and the propositions of Euclid? No; we should follow the more natural and healthy course that of developing the mind step by step; leading him from simple to complex, and teaching him to observe and analyze the familiar objects around him, and proceeding to the study of higher mathematics as he becomes developed and can appreciate them. And just the same rule should be applied to the moral and religious training of children. I feel, indeed, and that most deeply, the necessity of imprinting upon the young child's mind, at the earliest age possible, a feeling of its dependence upon God; but, considering the undeveloped state of the intellect and the activity of the feelings, it seems to me a hopeless task to render a child religious by teaching him to repeat theological dogmas which he cannot understand. But if we follow the order of nature the result will be quite different-we must begin with the training of the feelings and affections and delay till a mature age any points which address themselves to the intellect. True religion addresses itself to our highest and purest emotions. The obligations to love father and mother, to forgive injuries, to abstain from evil, are as integral parts of religion as the worship of the true and living God-indeed, they are a "living out" of that worship. of that worship. When we reflect upon the peculiar constitution of the mind, and the many possibilities which lie hidden in every little soul, and that they are just as much as we -aye, more-children of God, wandering spirits on their way to immortality and eternal life, we should almost shrink from the task of even trying to force them into what should be spontaneous. Hitherto the children of the masses have generally been neglected at the period when they needed most care and instruction. They have been allowed to do, to think, to act as they pleased until five or six years of age. ("Henry is not old enough to behave yet," the indulgent mother murmurs; "he will go to school next year.") They have been permitted to associate and play in groups; to exercise bad passions, to lie, even to swear, and then it has been thought time to send them to school. They have learned all the evil possible before they begin to learn any good. What time would have been saved if they had been instructed at the proper age, and all this sad state of things prevented, or at least lessened. The long and tedious process of improving bad passions, subduing evil dispositions and overruling the evil propensities to falsehood would have been saved, and the same amount of valuable time could have been devoted to moral and mental culture. It is of great importance. that firmness and kindness should be united in the discipline of