LETTER XLIX.

Obiections to the Parity Books-My theory as to books for chundrenAttempt in England to revive the vid murnery huka-- Mr Point Summary -Hansen & Nursery Krymes of Enjuand-Irusungus between. Timothy and his mother—Mcher Give - I're Toad a Story— Books of instructu

MY DEAR C***..

It is not to be supposed that the annoyanovs arising from the falsitication of the name of Pari y, which I have just pointed out, have been the only obstacles which have roughened the current of my literary life. Not only the faults and imperfections of execution in my juvenile works—and no one knows them so well as myself -have been urged against them, but the whole theory on which they are four. 1ed has been often and elaborately impugned

It is quite true that when I wrote the first haldozen of Parley's Tales, I had formed no place pry upon the subject. I simply used my experience with children in addressing them. I followed no mosielą, I put on no harness of the schools, I pored over no learned examples. I imagined myself on the fir with a group of boys and girls, and I wrote to them as I would have spoken to them. At a later per: »l I had reflected on the walgeet, and en.b-ked in a few subj lines the leatog prato ple of what sev na i to me to e true art of tea lung chl iron-an. I that is, to its der that their first ideas are simple and single, and firmesi

of images of things palpable to the senses; and hence that these images are to form the staple of lessons to be communicated to them.

THE TEACHER'S LESSON.

I saw a child, some four years old,
Along a meadow stray;

Alone she went, uncheck'd, untold,
Her home not far away.

She gazed around on earth and sky,
Now paused and now proceeded;
Hill, valley, wood, she passed them by
Unmarked, perchance unheeded.

And now gay groups of roses bright
In circling thickets bound her-
Yet on she went with footsteps light,
Still gazing all around her.

And now she paused and now she stooped,
And plucked a little flower;

A simple daisy 'twas, that drooped

Within a rosy bower.

The child did kiss the little gem,

And to her bosom press'd it,
And there she placed the fragile stem,
And with soft words caressed it.

I love to read a lesson true

From nature's open book

And oft I learn a lesson new

From childhood's careless look.

Children are simple, loving, true—
'Tis God that made them so;
And would you teach them?-be so, too,
And stoop to what they know.

Begin with simple lessons, things
On which they love to look;
Flowers, pebbles, insects, birds on wings-
These are God's spelling-book!

And children know his A B C,

As bees where flowers are set:
Wouldst thou a skillful teacher bel
Learn then this alphabet.

From leaf to leaf, from page to page,
Guide thon thy pupil's look;

And when he says, with aspect sagE----

"Who made this wondrous book !”

Point thou with reverend gaze to heaven,
And kneel in earnest prayer-
That lessons thou hast humbly given
May lead thy papal there!

From this initial point I proceeded to others, and came to the conclusion that in feeding the mur 1 of children with facts, with truth, and with objective truth, we follow the evident philosophy of nature and providence, inasmuch as these had created all cl dren to be ardent lovers of things they could see ani hear and feel and know. Thus I sought to teach them history and biography and geography, and all in the way in which nature would teach them that is, by a large use of the senses, and especially by the eye-the master organ of the body as well as the soul. I selected as subjects for my books, this car pable of sensible representation, wich as fan............ar an imals, birds, trees, and of these I gave ptures, as a

LETTER XLIX.

Objections to the Parley Books-My theory as to books for childrenAttempt in England to revive the old nursery books—Mr. Felix Summerly -Hallowell's Nursery Rhymes of England-Dialogue between Timothy and his mother-Mother Goose-The Toad's Story-Books of instruction. MY DEAR C**: ***

It is not to be supposed that the annoyances arising from the falsification of the name of Parley, which I have just pointed out, have been the only obstacles which have roughened the current of my literary life. Not only the faults and imperfections of execution in my juvenile works-and no one knows them so well as myself-have been urged against them, but the whole theory on which they are founded has been often and elaborately impugned.

It is quite true that when I wrote the first halfdozen of Parley's Tales, I had formed no philosophy upon the subject. I simply used my experience with children in addressing them. I followed no models, I put on no harness of the schools, I pored over no learned examples. I imagined myself on the floor with a group of boys and girls, and I wrote to them as 1 would have spoken to them. At a later period I had reflected on the subject, and embodied in a few simple lines the leading principle of what seemed to me the true art of teaching children—and that is, to consider that their first ideas are simple and single, and formed