[Literary Qualifications.—Some of the teachers possess a very limited knowledge of the branches usually taught in our common schools. This is true even of a portion of those who have bestowed considerable attention upon some of the higher branches of study. There is in our common schools, and indeed in our higher schools, an undue anxiety to advance rapidly. A score of persons may be heard speaking of the number of their recitations, of their rapid progress, and perhaps of skipping difficulties, while hardly one will speak of progressing understandingly, and comprehending every principle as he proceeds. When students speak of their progress in study, their first qualifying word should be thorough, after which, if they please, they may add rapid.

The following circumstances, that have occurred in classes of both ladies and gentlemen who have presented themselves for examination as candidates for teaching, illustrate the nature and extent of the evil. I have more than once received, in answer to the question "What is language?" the following reply: "Language is an unlimited sense." I have met with some experienced teachers, holding two or three town certificates, who did not know one half of the marks and pauses used in writing. They could, indeed, generally recite the answers in the spelling-book with some degree of accuracy; but when the marks have been pointed out, and their names and use have been asked, teachers in service have sometimes mistaken the note of interrogation for a parenthesis, and made other as gross errors. In answer to the question "What is arithmetic?" I have several times received the following reply: "It is the art of science," etc. Sometimes this constitutes the entire reply. In one instance four fifths of the class united in this answer. The terms sum, remainder, product, and quotient are frequently applied indiscriminately in the four ground rules of arithmetic. There are, hence, three chances for them to be used erroneously where there is one chance for them to be correctly applied. The following expressions are common: Add up and set down the remainder; subtract and set down the quotient; multiply and write down the sum; divide and write down the product, etc.: never so much as thinking that sum belongs to addition; remainder, to subtraction; product, to multiplication; and quotient, to division. In attending the examination of such teachers, any person of discernment will soon become satisfied that with them "language is an unlimited sense;" that "arithmetic is the art of science;" and that grammar, too, is "the art of science;" for the same answer has been given to the question, "What is grammar?" I introduce these things, not for the purpose of ridiculing any portion of our teachers, but to exemplify the extent of the evil under consideration.

The majority of teachers manifest a tolerable familiarity with the branches usually taught in our common schools. They have not, however, generally studied more than one author on the same subject.

A portion of our teachers, it gives me pleasure to add, are not only superior scholars in the common English branches, but they have made respectable attainments in philosophy, astronomy, chemistry, algebra, Latin, etc. All of these branches are successfully taught in a few of our schools.

School Government.—There is, perhaps, as wide a difference in the administration of government in our common schools as in any other particular connected with them. Good government requires the healthful exercise of a rare combination of good qualities. But this can not reasonably be expected in inexperienced youth, who, instead of being guided by enlightened moral sentiment, have not only never subjected themselves to government, but are totally unacquainted with the principles upon which it should be administered. About one third of our schools are tolerably well governed. A portion of them are under a wise and parental supervision, the government being uniformly mild, and at the same time efficient. But indecision, rashness, and inefficiency are far more common. Sometimes teachers resolve to have no whispering, leaving seats, asking questions, etc., among any of the scholars, and severely punish every detected offender. Soon a portion of the patrons justly manifest dissatisfaction. Then all attempts to govern the school are unwisely given up. Many teachers thus rashly fly from one extreme of government to the other, without stopping to test the "golden mean," or even appearing to bestow a single thought upon the subject.

Again: the feelings of the teacher have been outraged by having frequently witnessed severity, and even cruelty, in government; and, in studiously avoiding them, he has inadvertently adopted a lax government, if government it may be called. The latter may be the more amiable extreme, but it is hardly the less fatal. I have heard scholars say in the presence of such a teacher, "We have a good teacher, who gives us all the good advice we need, and then lets us do as we please;" and then I have witnessed whispering, talking, chewing gum and throwing it about the house, passing from seat to seat, playing with tops and whirls, tossing wads of wet paper about the house and to the ceiling, cutting images upon the desks, imitating the practice of botanic physicians, exhibiting and passing from one to another roots and herbs, and discoursing upon their properties, chasing mice about the house, and in some instances slaying them, and practicing sundry other antics too numerous to be mentioned. Good advice was freely given, but it was disregarded with impunity.

Government in school, as elsewhere, should be mild but efficient. The teacher should speak kindly, but with authority. Every request should meet with a ready compliance. The scholars will not only fear to disobey such a teacher, but will, at the same time, respect, and even love him. This is not only good theory, but is susceptible of being reduced to practice. It is, indeed, exemplified in many of our schools, as a visit to them will clearly manifest. I know of no one thing in school government more mischievous in its tendency than the habit of speaking several times without being obeyed.

Mode of Instruction.—In some schools the instruction is thorough and systematic. In them the scholars generally learn principles, and understand, and are able to explain, all that they pass over. But this is the case in comparatively few schools. Scholars generally are poorly instructed, and understand very imperfectly what they profess to have learned. I will give a few illustrations:

First. Scholars are frequently introduced to the twenty-six letters of the alphabet four times a day for several weeks in succession, without making a single acquaintance. They occasionally become so familiar with their names and order as to repeat them down and back, as well without the book as with it, before learning a single letter.

This method of instruction is as unphilosophical as it is unsuccessful. Were I to be introduced to twenty-six strangers, and were my introducer to pronounce their names in rapid succession down and back, giving me merely an opportunity of pronouncing them after him, I should hardly expect to form a single acquaintance with twenty-six introductions. But were he to introduce me to one, and give me an opportunity of shaking hands with him, of conversing with him, of observing his features, etc.; and were he then to introduce me to another, in like manner, with the privilege of shaking hands again with the first, before my introduction to the third; and were he thus to introduce me to them all successively, I might form twenty-six acquaintances with one introduction.