It is also here of importance to take notice of the additional benefits that arise from the multiplying of questions upon one announcement. The first question proposed from the announcement, brought the mind of the child into immediate contact with all the ideas which it contained. They are now therefore familiar to him; and he is perfectly prepared for the second, and for every succeeding question formed upon it; and he fashions the answers with readiness and zest. Every such answer is a kind of triumph to the child, which he gives with ease and pleasure, and yet every one of them, as an exercise of the mind, is equally beneficial as the first. When the teacher therefore asks, "What did Jesus do?" and afterwards, "For whom did Jesus die?" a little reflection will at once shew, that a similar mental exercise must take place at each question, in which the child has not only to reiterate the several original ideas, but must again and again compare the questions asked, with each one of them, choose out the one required, clothe it in his own language, and in this form repeat it audibly to his teacher.

Before leaving this enquiry into the nature and effects of the catechetical exercise, there are two circumstances connected with it as a school-engine, which deserve particular attention. The first is, that Nature has made this same reiteration of ideas, for the securing of which this exercise is used, the chief means of conveying knowledge to the mind; and the second is, the undissembled delight which children exhibit while under its influence, wherever it is naturally and judiciously conducted. With respect to the former of these circumstances, it falls more particularly to be considered in another chapter, and under a following head; but with respect to the latter,—the delight felt in the exercise by the children themselves,—it deserves here a more close examination.

Every one who has paid any attention to the subject must have observed the life, the energy, the enjoyment, which are observable in a class of children, while they are under the influence, and subjected to the discipline of the catechetical exercise. This will perhaps be still more remarkable, if ever they have had an opportunity of contrasting this lively scene with the death-like monotony of a school where the exercise is as yet unknown. Many can yet remember instances when it was first introduced into some of the Sabbath schools in Scotland, and the astonishment of the teachers at its instantaneous effects upon the mind and conduct of their children. The whole aspect of the school was changed; and the children, who had but a few minutes before been conspicuous only for their apathy, restlessness, or inattention, were instantly aroused to life, and energy, and delight. Similar effects in some children are still witnessed; but, happily for education, the first exhibition of it to a whole school is not so common. One striking proof of the novelty and extent of its effects upon the pupils, and of the vivid contrast it produced with that to which the teachers had at that time been accustomed, is afforded by the fact, that serious objections were sometimes made to its introduction, by well-meaning individuals, on account of its breaking in, as they said, upon the proper devotional solemnity of the children;—as if the apathy of languor and weariness was identical with reverence, and mental energy and joyous feelings were incompatible with the liveliest devotion. These opinions have now happily disappeared; and the catechetical exercise is not now, on that account, so frequently opposed. Christians now perceive, that by making these rough places smooth, and the crooked ways straight for the tottering feet of the lambs of the flock, they are following the best, as it is the appointed means, of "making ready a people prepared for the Lord."

To the teacher, especially, it must be a matter of great practical importance, to perceive clearly the cause why this exercise is so fascinating to the young, as well as so beneficial in education. The cause, when we analyze all the circumstances, is simply this, that it resembles, in all its leading characteristics, those amusements and pastimes of which children are so fond. In other words, the prosecution of the catechetical exercise with the young, produces in reality the same effects as a game would do if played with their teacher. It brings into action, and it keeps in lively operation, all those mental elements, which, in ordinary cases, constitute their play; and the effects of course are nearly similar. We shall direct the reader's attention to this curious fact for a moment.

It is easy to perceive, that the pleasure and happiness experienced by a child during his play, arise altogether from the state of his mind, to which the physical exercises and amusements only conduce. When this mental satisfaction is examined, we find it to consist chiefly of two elements,—that of active thought, and that of self-approbation. The first,—that of active thought, or the reiteration of ideas, we have before pointed out and explained, as it is illustrated in their play, and in the pleasure they take in hearing stories, reading riddles, dressing dolls, and similar acts; and it is only here necessary to add, that their desire of congregating together for amusement has its origin in a similar cause. New ideas stimulate more powerfully to active thought; and children soon find, and insensibly draw the lesson, that the aggregate of new ideas is always enlarged by an increase of the number of persons who supply them. Two children will play with the same number of toys for a longer time, without tiring, than if they were alone;—and three or four would, in the same proportion, increase the interest and prolong the season of activity. But as soon as the reiteration of the ideas suggested by their game becomes languid or difficult, their play for the time loses its charms, and the fascination is gone. That it is the cessation of active thought, which is the chief cause of their play ceasing to please, is proved from the circumstance, that if another interesting companion shall be added to their number, or if any thing shall occur to renew this operation,—the reiteration of ideas,—upon the mind, the same degree of interest, and to a corresponding extent, is immediately felt, and the play is resumed. Now, the catechetical exercise is in reality the same operation in another form. The questions of the teacher excite the pupil to the same kind of active thought as that which gives relish to his play; and, while the teacher confines himself within the limits of the announcement, the mental excitement is active, but moderate, and always successful.

This leads us to observe the influence which the catechetical exercise exerts in affording means for that self-approbation, or sense of merit, which constitutes another element of delight to a child during his play. All must have observed the beneficial effects of this principle in children, as an incitement to emulation and good conduct. It is not only perceptible in the love of approbation from their superiors, but in their desire to excel at all times. We see it in the pleasure felt by the child when he outstrips his fellows in the race,—when he catches his companion at "hide and seek,"—when he finds the hidden article at "seek and find,"—in winning a game, expounding a riddle, or gaining a place in his class. In all these instances there is a feeling of pure satisfaction and delight;—a feeling of self-estimation, which is at once the guardian and the reward of virtue. Now, when the catechetical exercise is conducted in its purity,—that is, when the teacher keeps strictly to the announcement, without wandering where the child cannot follow him,—the answers are invariably within the limits of the child's capacity;—they are answered successfully; and every answer is a subject of triumph. He has a delightful consciousness of having overcome a difficulty, deserved approbation, and made an advance in the pathway of merit. When properly conducted, therefore, the catechetical exercise becomes to the pupils a succession of victories; and it imparts all that delight, softened and purified, which he experiences in excelling his companion, or in winning a game.—These are the reasons why the catechetical exercise is so much relished by the young, and why it has succeeded so powerfully, not only in smoothing the pathway of education, but also in shortening it.

From a careful consideration of all these circumstances, we are led to conclude, that the catechetical exercise does, in a superior degree, fulfil all the stipulations required for imitating Nature, in exciting to the reiteration of ideas by children, and thus disciplining and cultivating the powers of their minds. We might also have remarked, that another advantage arising from persevering in this exercise, is the arresting of the attention of the children, and successfully training them to hear and understand through life the oral communications of others;—but we hasten to consider the time and the order in which this exercise should be made use of in schools.

Nature intends, that the cultivation and strengthening of the powers of the mind shall in every case precede those exercises in which their strength is to be tried. In infants and young children we perceive this cultivation and invigorating of the mind going on, long before these powers are to be taxed even for their own preservation. The child is no doubt putting them to use; but in every such case it is voluntary, and not compulsory,—a matter of choice on the part of the child, and not of necessity. The infant, or even the child, is never required to take care of itself, to clothe itself, to wash itself, or even to feed itself. To require it to do so before the mind could comprehend the nature and the design of the particular duty, would be both unreasonable and cruel. This being the case, the exercises of the nursery and the school must be regulated in a similar manner, and follow the same law. The due cultivation of the mind, like the due preparation of the soil, must always precede the sowing of the seed. If this principle in Nature be duly attended to, the seeds of knowledge afterwards cast into the soil thus broken up and prepared, will be readily received and nourished to perfection; but if the soil be neglected, both the seed and the labour will be lost, the anticipations of the spring and summer will end in delusion, and the folly of the whole proceeding will be shewn by a succession of noxious weeds, and at last by an unproductive harvest.

The evils which must necessarily result from thus running counter to Nature in this first part of her educational proceedings, may be aptly illustrated by the very common custom of beginning a child's education by teaching it to read. It would perhaps be difficult to convince many that this custom is either unnatural or improper. We shall not attempt here to argue the matter, but shall merely state a fact which they cannot deny, and which will answer the purpose we think much better than an argument.—To teach the art of reading was wont to require the labour of several months, sometimes years, before the perusal of a book could be managed by the child with any degree of ease,—and even then, without any thing approaching to satisfaction or pleasure. And even yet, although the error has in some measure been perceived of late years, yet the art of reading by the young, still requires several months' attendance at school, with corresponding labour to the teacher, and great irritation and unhappiness to the child. But experience has established the fact, that, by acting on the principle of previous preparation which we are here enforcing, and by calling into operation the principle of individuation formerly explained, the whole drudgery of teaching a child to read is got over in a week,—sometimes in a day; and this with much more ease and satisfaction, than could have been done by a thousand lessons while his mind was unprepared.[11]

The accumulation of labour, and the loss of precious time by this non-observance of the dictates of Nature, are in themselves serious evils; but they are not by any means so great as some others which almost invariably accompany this unnatural mode of proceeding with the young. Many who have nominally been taught to read, are still quite unable to understand by reading. Those who have heard chapters read by families in the country, "verse about," will at once understand what we here mean; and even in towns and cities where newspapers and low-priced books are more numerous and more tempting, it often requires long practice before the emancipated child can read these publications so readily and intelligently as they are intended to be. It is another, and an entirely different course of learning to which he subjects himself, when he labours to acquire the capacity of understanding the words that he reads, as readily as the words that he hears. Where the inducements to this are sufficiently powerful, the ability is no doubt at last acquired;—but where these stimulants are awanting, the difficulty of understanding by reading has by the previous habit become so great, that reading is gradually disused, and at last forgotten.