even beyond the Rule of Three, and making forays into the mysterious region of Vulgar Fractions. Several daring geniuses actually entered and took possession.

But after all, penmanship was Master Stebbins's great accomplishment. He had no magniloquent system; no pompous lessons upon single lines and bifid lines, and the like. The revelations of inspired copy-book makers had not then been vouchsafed to man. He could not cut an American eagle with a single flourish of a goose-quill. He was guided by good taste and native instinct, and wrote a smooth round hand, like copper-plate. His lessons from A to &, all written by himself, consisted of pithy proverbs and useful moral lessons. On every page of our writing-books he wrote the first line himself. The effect was what might have been expected-with such models, patiently enforced, nearly all became good writers.

Beyond these simple elements, the Up-town school made few pretensions. When I was there, two Webster's Grammars and one or two Dwight's Geographies were in use. The latter was without maps or illustrations, and was in fact little more than an expanded table of contents, taken from Morse's Universal Geogra phy-the mammoth monument of American learning and genius of that age and generation. The grammar was a clever book; but I have an idea that neither Master Stebbins nor his pupils ever fathomed its

depths. They floundered about in it, as if in a quagmire, and after some time came out pretty nearly where they went in, though perhaps a little obfus cated by the dim and dusky atmosphere of these labyrinths.

The fact undoubtedly is, that the art of teaching, as now understood, beyond the simplest elements, was neither known nor deemed necessary in our country schools in their day of small things. Repetition, drilling, line upon line, and precept upon precept, with here and there a little of the birch-constituted the entire system.

James G. Carter* had not then begun the series of publications, which laid the foundation of the great movement in school education, which afterward pervaded New England. "Bring up a child in the way in which he should go," was the principle; the prac tice regarded this way as straight and narrow— somewhat like a gun-barrel-and the scholar as a bullet, who was to go ahead, whether he had to encounter a pine board or an oak knot. In climbing up the steep ascent to knowledge, he was expected to rely upon his own genius; a kindly, helping hand along the rough and dubious passages, was rarely extended to him. "Do this!" said the master, with his eye bent on the ferule, and generally the pupil did it, if the matter related to the simpler school

*See note V., p. 540.

exercises. But when you came to grammar-that was quite another thing.

Let me here repeat an anecdote, which I have indeed told before, but which I had from the lips of its hero, G... H..., a clergyman of some note thirty years ago, and which well illustrates this part of my story. At a village school, not many miles from Ridgefield, he was put into Webster's Grammar. Here he read, "A noun is the name of a thing-as horse, hair, justice." Now, in his innocence, he read it thus: "A noun is the name of a thing-as horse-hair justice."

"What then," said he, ruminating deeply, "is a noun? But first I must find out what a horse-hair justice is."

Upon this he meditated for some days, but still he was as far as ever from the solution. Now his father was a man of authority in those parts, and moreover he was a justice of the peace. Withal, he was of respectable ancestry, and so there had descended to him a somewhat stately high-backed settee, covered with horse-hair. One day, as the youth came from school, pondering upon the great grammatical problem, he entered the front door of the house, and there he saw before him, his father, officiating in his legal capacity, and seated upon the old horse-hair "I have found it!" said the boy to himself, as greatly delighted as was Archimedes when he exclaimed Eureka-"my father is a horse-hair justice, and therefore a noun !"

settee.

VOL. I.-7

Nevertheless, it must be admitted that the world got on remarkably well in spite of this narrowness of the country schools. The elements of an Eng lish education were pretty well taught throughout the village seminaries of Connecticut, and I may add, of New England. The teachers were heartily devoted to their profession: they respected their calling, and were respected and encouraged by the community. They had this merit, that while they attempted but little, that, at least, was thoroughly performed.

As to the country at large, it was a day of quiet, though earnest action: Franklin's spirit was the great "schoolmaster abroad"-teaching industry, perseverance, frugality, and thrift, as the end and aim of ambition. The education of youth was suited to what was expected of them. With the simple lessons of the country schools, they moved the world immediately around them. Though I can recollect only a single case that already alluded to of Ezekiel Sanford-in which one of Master Stebbins's scholars attained any degree of literary distinction, still, quite a number of them, with no school learning beyond what he gave them, rose to a certain degree of emiHis three sons obtained situations in New York as accountants, and became distinguished in their career. At one period there were three graduates of his school, who were cashiers of banks in that city. My mind adverts now with great satisfac

nence.

tion to several names among the wealthy, honorable, and still active merchants of the great metropolis, who were my fellow-students of the Up-town school, and who there began and completed their education. I will venture to name another-Rufus H. King, of Albany, who was my competitor in every study, and my friend in every play. May I not be permit ed to add that he has ever been, and still is, my friend? As a man, he is precisely what he promised to be as Master Stebbins's pupil. I know he will excuse me for thus speaking of him in behalf of our revered old schoolmaster, to whose character and memory I can inscribe no more worthy monument than this reference to his pupils.

LETTER XII.

Horsemanship-Bige's Adventures—A Dead Shot-A Race-Academicai Honors-Charles Chatterbox-My Father's School-My Exercises in Latin -Tityre tu patulæ, etc.-Rambles-Literary Aspirations-My MotherFamily Worship-Standing and Kneeling at Prayer-Anecdotes-Our Philistine Temple.

MY DEAR C******

Permit me a few more details as to my schoolday recollections. I went steadily to the Up-town school for three winters, being occupied during the summers upon the farm, and in various minor duties.