about it; many of them just and sensible, though almost all differing from each other. With respect to the education of boys, I think they are generally made to draw in Latin and Greek trammels too soon. It is pleasing no doubt to a parent, to see his child already in some sort a a proficient in those languages, at an age when most others are entirely ignorant of them; but hence it often happens, that a boy, who would construe a fable of Esop, at six or seven years of age, having exhausted his little stock of attention and diligence, in making that notable acquisition, grows weary of his task, conceives a dislike for study, and perhaps makes but a very indifferent progress afterwards. The mind and body have in this respect, a striking resemblance of each other. In childhood they are both nimble, but not strong; they can skip, and frisk about with wonderful agility, but hard labour spoils them both. In maturer years they become less active, but more vigorous, more capable of a fixt application, and can make themselves sport with that which a little earlier would have affected them with intolerable fatigue. I should recommend it to you therefore, (but after all you must judge for yourself) to allot the two next years of little John's scholarship, to writing and arithmetic, together with which, for variety's sake, and because it is capable of being formed into an amusement, I would mingle geography, (a science which if not attended to betimes, is seldom made an object of much consideration ;) essentially necessary to the accomplishment of a gentleman, yet (as I know by sad experience) imperfectly if at all, inculcated in the

schools. Lord Spencer's son, when he was four years of age, knew the situation of every kingdom, country, city, river, and remarkable mountain in the world. For this attainment, which I suppose his father had never made, he was indebted to a play thing; having been accustomed to amuse himself with those maps which are cut into several compartments, so as to be thrown into a heap of confusion, that they may be put together again with an exact coincidence of all their angles and bearings, so as to form a perfect whole.

If he begins Latin and Greek at eight, or even at nine years of age, it is surely soon enough. Seven years, the usual allowance for those acquisitions, are more than sufficient for that purpose, especially with his readiness in learning; for you would hardly wish to have him qualified for the university before fifteen, a period, in my mind, much too early for it, and when he could hardly be trusted there without the utmost danger to his morals. Upon the whole, you will perceive that in my judgment the difficulty, as well as the wisdom, consists more in bridling in, and keeping back, a boy of his parts, than in pushing him forward. If, therefore, at the end of the two next years, instead of putting a grammar into his hand, you should allow him to amuse himself with some agreeable writers upon the subject of natural philosophy, for another year, I think it would answer well. There is a book called Cosmotheoria Puerilis, there are Durham's Physico, and Astrotheology, together with several others in the same manner, very intelligible even to a child, and full of useful instruction.

You desire my further thoughts on the subject of education. I send you such as had for the most part occurred to me when I wrote last, but could not be comprised in a single letter. They are indeed on a different branch of this interesting theme, but not less important than the former.

I think it your happiness, and wish you to think yourself, that you are, in every respect, qualified for the task of instructing your son, and preparing him for the university, without committing him to the care of a stranger. In my judgment a domestic education deserves the preference to a public one, on an hundred accounts, which I have neither time nor room to mention. I shall only touch upon two or three that I cannot but consider as having a right to your most earnest

attention.

In a public school, or indeed any school, his morals are sure to be but little attended to, and his religion none at all. If he can catch the love of virtue from the fine things that are spoken of it in the Classics, and the love of holiness from the customary attendance upon such preaching as he is likely to hear, it will be well; but I am sure you have had too many opportunities to observe the inefficacy of such meaus, to expect any such advantage from them. In the mean time, the more powerful influence of bad example, and perhaps of bad company, will continually counter work these only preservatives he can meet with, and may possibly send him

home to you, at the end of five or six years, such as you will be sorry to see him. You escaped indeed the contagion yourself, but a few instances of happy exception from a general malady, are not sufficient warrant to conclude, that it is therefore not infectious, or may be encountered without danger.

You have seen too much of the world, and are a man of too much reflection, not to have observed, that, in proportion as the sons of a family approach to years of matarity, they lose a sense of obligations to their parents, and seem at last almost divested of that tender affection, which the nearest of all relations seem to demand from them. I have often observed it myself, and have always thought I could sufficiently account for it without laying all the blame upon the children. While they continue in their parents' house, they are every day obliged, and every day reminded how much it is their interest, as well as duty, to be obliging and affectionate in return. But at eight or nine years of age the boy goes to school. From that moment he becomes a stranger in his father's house. The course of parental kindness is interrupted. The smiles of his mother, those tender admonitions, and the solicitous care of both his parents, are no longer before his eyes-year after year he feels himself more and more detached from them, till at last he is so effectually weaned from the connection, as to find himself happier any where than in their company.

I should have been glad of a frank for this letter, for I have said but little of what I could say upon the subject, and perhaps I may not be able to catch it by the

end

To the Rev. William Unwin. My dear friend, Oct. 5, 1780. Now for the sequel.-You have anticipated one of my arguments in favour of a private education, therefore I need say but little about it. The folly of supposing that the mother tongue, in some respects the most difficult of all tongues, may be acquired without a teacher, is predominant in all the public schools that I have heard of. To pronounce it well, to speak and to write it with fluency and elegance, are no easy attainments; not one in fifty of those who pass through Westminster and Eton, arrive at any remarkable proficiency in these accomplishments; and they that do, are more indebted to their own study and application for it, than to any instruction received there. In general, there is nothing so pedantic as the style of a school-boy, if he aims at any style at all, and if he does not, he is of course inele gant, and perhaps ungrammatical. A defect no doubt in great mea. sure owing to a want of cultiva tion, for the same lad that is often commended for his Latin, frequently would deserve to be whipped for his English, if the fault were not more his master's than his own. I know not where this evil is so likely to be prevented as at home-supposing always, nevertheless (which is the case in your instance) that the boy's parents, and their acquaintance, are persons of elegance and taste themselves. For to converse with those who converse with propriety, and to be directed to such

authors, as have refined and improved the language by their productions, are advantages which he cannot elsewhere enjoy in an equal degree. And though it requires some time to regulate the taste, and fix the judgment, and these effects must be gradually wrought even upon the best understanding, yet I suppose much less time will be necessary for the purpose, than could at first be imagined, because the opportunities of improvement are continual.

A public education is often recommended as the most effectual remedy for that bashful and awkward restraint, so epidemical among the youth of our country. But I verily believe, that instead of being a cure, it is often the cause of it. For seven or eight years of life, the boy has hardly seen or conversed with a man, or woman, except the maids at his boarding house. A gentleman, or a lady, are consequently such novelties to him, that he is perfectly at a loss to know what sort of behaviour he should preserve before them. He plays with his buttons, or the strings of his hat; he blows his nose, and hangs down his head, is conscious of his own deficiency to a degree, that makes him quite unhappy, and trembles lest any one should speak to him, because that would quite overwhelm him. Is not all this miserable shyness the effect of his education? To me it appears to be so. If he saw good company every day, he would not be terrified at the sight of it, and a room full of ladies and gentlemen, would alarm him no more than the chairs they sit on. Such is the effect of custom.

I need add nothing more on this subject, because I believe little

true clue to guide you, in the maxim you lay down in your letter to me, namely, that the use of learning is, to render a man more wise and virtuous; not merely to make him more learned. Macte tuá virtute; go on, my dear boy, by this golden rule, and you cannot fail to become every thing your generous heart prompts you to wish to be, and that mine most affectionately wishes for you. There is but one danger in your way; and that is perhaps natural enough to your age, the love of pleasure, or the fear of close application and laborious diligence. With the last there is nothing you may not conquer: and the first is sure to conquer and enslave whoever does not strenuously and generously resist the first allurements of it, lest, by small indulgencies, he fall under the yoke of irresistible habit. Vitanda est improba sineu, desidia, I desire, may be affixed to the curtains of your bed, and to the walls of your chambers. If you do not rise early, you never can make any progress worth talking of; and another rule is, if you do not set apart your hours of reading, and never suffer yourself or any one else to break in upon them, your days will slip through your hands unprofitably and frivolously; unpraised by all you wish to please, and really unenjoyable to yourself. Be assured, whatever you take from pleasure, amusements, or indolence for these first few years of your life, will repay you a hundred fold in the pleasures, honors, and advantages of all the remainder of your days. My heart is so full of the most earnest desire that you should do well, that I find my letter has run into some length, which you will, I know, be so good to excuse. There remains

now nothing to trouble you with, but a little plan for the beginning of your studies, which I desire in a particular manner may be exactly followed in every tittle. You are to qualify yourself for the part in society to which your birth and estate call you. You are to be a gentleman of such learning and qualifications, as may distinguish you in the service of your country hereafter; not a pedant, who reads only to be called learned, instead of considering learning as an instrument only for action. Give me leave therefore, my dear nephew, who have gone before you, to point out to you the dangers in your road; to guard you against such things as I experience my own defects to arise from; and, at the same time, if I have had any little successes in the world, to guide you to what I have drawn many helps from. I have not the pleasure of knowing the gentleman who is your tutor, but I dare say he is every way equal to` the charge, which I think no small one. You will communicate this letter to him, and I hope he will be so good to concur with me, as to the course of study I desire you may begin with; and that such books, and such only as I have pointed out, may be read. They are as follow: Euclid; a course of logic; a course of experimental philosophy; Locke's Conduct of the Understanding; his Treatise, also, on the Understanding; his Treatise on Government, and Letters on Toleration. I desire, for the present, no books of poetry but Horace and Virgil: of Horace, the Odes, but above all, the Epistles and Ars Poetica. These parts, Nocturna Versate Manu. Versate Diurnâ, Tully de Officiis, de Amicitia, de Senectute. His Catilinarian Orations, and Philippics