Note W, p. 321.—Children generally delight in music, and seldom weary in its exercise. It forms therefore, when judiciously managed, a most useful exercise in a school for the purposes of relaxation and variety, and for invigorating their minds after a lengthened engagement in drier studies. It thus not only becomes desirable to teach music in the seminary as a branch of education for after life, but for the purposes of present expediency.

That music may be taught to the young in a manner much more simple than it has yet generally been done, is now matter of experience. The notes are only seven, and these are each as precise and definite in proportion to the key note as any letter in the alphabet. There is obviously no difficulty in teaching a child seven figures,—and there is in reality as little difficulty in teaching him seven notes; so that, having the key note, he will, in reading a tune, sound each in its order when presented to him, as readily and accurately as he would read so many figures.

To render this exercise more simple to children, and more convenient in a school, the notes have been represented by figures, 1 being the key note. The other notes rise in the common gradation from 1 to 8, which is the key note in alt. By this means, the teacher by writing on the common black board a few figures, gives the children the tune, which a very little practice enables them to read as readily as they would the words to which they adapt it.

For particulars as to time, &c. see "Shorter Catechism Hymn Book," p. 23 and 24.

Note X, p. 264.—There is perhaps no department in the family economy which ought to be so cautiously filled up as the nursery maid; and yet we generally find, that the duties of this office are frequently handed over to any thoughtless giddy girl, whose appearance is "shewy," although she be without education, without experience, and often without principle. Why there has been as yet no regular seminary for the training of young persons of good principles, for the responsible duties of the nursery, is not a little remarkable. Not one of the many valuable institutions for particular classes is so much wanted, and which, if properly conducted, would be a greater blessing to families and to society generally. One of the most beautiful features in our infant schools is the circumstance, that they have tended greatly to lessen this evil, and in some measure to supply the desideratum.

Note Y, p. 268.—The question of rewards and punishments in a public school is a difficult one; and although there has of late been an obvious improvement in this respect, we are afraid that the principles which ought to regulate them are not yet very clearly understood. Hence the contrariety of sentiments on the subject, with little more than mere opinions offered to support them. The following few crude thoughts on the subject, may perhaps lead others better qualified to consider it more extensively.

We can all readily enough distinguish the difference between physical efforts, intellectual efforts, and moral efforts; but we are very ready to confound the rewards which, we think, Nature has pointed out as most appropriate to each. For physical exertions, such as the race, or the wrestling match, physical returns appear natural and appropriate enough; and therefore, money, decorations, or other physical honours, are the ordinary rewards for excelling in any of them. But to desire money as a return for intellectual excellence, appears to every well constituted mind as sordid and unseemly. The reward for the exertion of intellect must partake of intellectual dignity; and hence it is, that esteem, applause, or admiration,—the incense of the mind,—appears to be the natural return for such exertions. In proof of this, we may instance the sensible degradation which is felt, when the reward proffered for mental efforts, even in children, takes the form of food, or clothing, or money;—and the kind of estimation in which students hold their medals, books, and other prizes, acquired at their several seminaries. These are never valued for their intrinsic worth, but only as permanent signs of approbation, or admiration,—feelings which are purely intellectual in their character, and perfectly distinct from the grossness of physical rewards on the one hand, and the affections—the moral incense of the heart,—on the other.

All this appears pretty evident; and it obviously leads us to the next and concluding step, which is, that the natural and proper reward for moral actions, ought to partake of the moral character. It is the love and affection of those we serve, or who are called on to estimate, or to decide on the character of our actions,—that is the proper, the natural, the desirable return. A little consideration, we think, will shew us, that this, as a general principle, is really correct; and that applause, admiration, or wonder, when they are afforded without affection, do not satisfy the heart, that in the exercise of love, seeks love in return.—It is the friendship, the fellowship, the affections of those whom we aim at pleasing, that alone can approve itself to our minds as the appropriate returns for moral actions.

Note Z, p. 299.—The following are a few specimens of the paraphrastic exercise, as employed upon different subjects:—

"But Martha was [cumbered] [about much serving,] and came to [him,] and said, Lord, [dost thou not care] that my sister hath left me to [serve] alone? [bid] her, therefore, that she [help] me."