brothers and sisters, masters and servants. It cements the bonds of pure and holy friendship. If in society there are those who devote themselves to the service of the sick and suffering, so are there others who labour to promote the enjoyment of their fellow creatures, by the advancement of knowledge, arts, and sciences. It also shows itself in providing for posterity, which as yet exists not, and therefore can give nothing in return. Look at the old man planting trees, which he can never see in fruit. He knows this; and yet he plants. He does so, in order to bequeath those trees to his posterity. This desire is innate in the human heart as formed by the Creator, and as described by our common language.

Disposition to Faith.

If man is born in complete ignorance, he is also born in the midst of those who have trod the path of life before him, who have learnt and who can teach him. On his own part, he comes into the world not only with the needful faculties for learning useful knowledge from others, but also with a happy disposition to belief. He hears, and he believes. The knowledge of others becomes his own, without his having the trouble of learning it by experience or reflection; so carefully has the Creator provided for the poor child whom He has called into existence. He created him ignorant; but He has placed him under those who can teach him; and especially under his father and mother, who have attained to maturity, who have long since emerged from the darkness in which they were born, and who are well inclined to impart what they know to their beloved child. He, on his part, is born with faith, which will come in aid of his ignorance; and, in the full certainty of not being deceived, he will confidently say," Papa, or Mama, says so."

The natural disposition to faith belongs to our social tendency; for it forms the first link in the chain of society, and is the foundation-stone of education. Banish faith from the heart of the child, and how will he learn? He will be no better than a little savage, who will seek food and shelter under his parents' roof, as the robin will

come to our doors for the crumbs or seeds that we scatter there.

It is by faith that we are drawn towards our fellowmen; that we question them, and listen to them. In time we become circumspect, because we make the grievous discovery that men are often deceived and sometimes deceitful. Thus faith is shaken, and with it our sociability. Lies break its precious chain; and therefore it is that the Gospel of love stigmatises lying as a crime, and denounces the severest punishments against it. Parents turn their children's faith to account in education, and so will also our course of language. But as our pupils will already have acquired some knowledge and expansion of mind, we shall first require an explanation, and then a reason for the assertions which will appear in our propositions and phrases. Thus we shall enlist reason under the banner of faith, in order to produce that reasonable faith which the Gospel requires of beings who have been endowed with the gift of intelligence.

And we shall do more, for we shall endeavour to raise the faith of our pupils towards Him who came down from heaven to teach us, and the faith we shall seek to elicit will not be a blind faith, for it will be founded on reason, as far as the conception of childhood will permit.

Disposition to Imitation.

This is another element in the social tendency which binds us to our fellows.

The child is born imitative; he observes what passes before his eyes, he feels he could do the like; he copies. Oh! that the examples around him were always worthy of imitation; for he would then advance rapidly in the right path, and education when it came to mould his young thoughts, would be greatly aided by previous good habits.

In proportion as the child developes, his imitations will become less servile; because he learns to think, to choose, and to invent. Nevertheless, the tendency to imitation as well as to belief will never forsake him altogether. He will always live more or less of a borrowed

life; and thus it is that the Creator has closely bound together beings who are to form but one large family.

The natural tendency to imitation will not remain inactive, when we place before it the model which is at once the most sublime and the most attractive-that of the Saviour of men-who was also the condescending friend of children.

Gratitude, compassion, benevolence, and the disposition to faith and imitation, are then the elements which compose our social tendency. Personal tendency takes the lead; and this priority of developement is necessary; for how should we feel for the joys and sorrows of others if we had not first obtained the consciousness of pain and pleasure ourselves?

That the excess or abuse of our personal tendency should become hurtful to society is quite conceivable; because ill-understood interests must come into collision. But it is not at first easy to understand, why the social tendency, which is love, should beget envy, jealousy, hatred, and revenge. The reason is, however, obvious; viz., that whilst espousing with blind eagerness the interests of a few, it surrenders its true nature, and falls into the vices of egotism, without being in itself egotistical.

Moral Tendency.

Whilst speaking of intellectual cultivation, we have already been obliged to trespass on the province of morals, in order to point out the essential characteristics by which we may distinguish right from wrong. For this purpose we did not begin with an abstract theory, which from its nature must be indistinct and often erroneous; but we simply appealed to inward consciousness. That teaches us that the agreement of our actions with the objects of them, is the characteristic of right, their disagreement that of wrong. Now, we must search in the human heart for what corresponds to these moral judgments. And we

shall find first

The Love of Right.

At the bare mention of a good action, or of a generous sentiment, we experience a feeling of elevated pleasure. If we hear, for example, a beautiful instance of filial piety, of patriotism, of unshaken fidelity, of innocence unsullied in the midst of temptation, of free forgiveness granted to an enemy, these anecdotes peak to our hearts, we love to listen to them, to recall them, to repeat them. Even a child will attend to them with lively interest; his eye will kindle at the recital, and not unfrequently the rising tear will start. Fictions of this kind please us as much as reality. We know that they are pure inventions; but, nevertheless, the image of what is right presents itself to our minds; it pleases and attracts us; and it even attaches us to the persons whose actions and sentiments suggest this image.

Moral evil has just the opposite effect upon us; we love it not; we hate it. "But if this be so," it will be said, "why is it that we often do what is wrong?" The answer is obvious. We have in us other and conflicting inclinations which oppose what is right, therefore we must make our option; and if, in order to gratify an evil inclination, we determine to do what is wrong, we always come to this decision reluctantly. "That man does not exist," says Seneca, "who would not readily consent to be excused from the commission of sin, if he might on these terms be allowed to reap its fruits." We dissemble with ourselves as long as we can, and when we can no longer hide our sins from our own eyes, we still endeavour to veil them from those of others.

Do you wish to judge of the effect produced upon them by right and wrong, you have but to bring the contrast before their minds. Describe, for example, the meekness of Abel, and the ferocity of his brother Cain; tell them how Joseph forgave his brothers, who sold him to strangers; speak to them of our Saviour praying for his murderers on the cross; and you will soon see how delight and grief, love and hatred, will alternately kindle in their eyes and light up their countenance.

The love of what is right is perfectly disinterested, therefore good actions please us in proportion to the selfdenial which they impose; and they acquire in our eyes the highest value when everything, even life itself, is sacrificed to them. That is the heroism of virtue; the love of what is right triumphing over every other consideration. On the other hand, whatever advantages may accrue to our family, to the public, or to our country, from what is wrong, it does not cease to be offensive to us. The robber may maintain his wife and children by his plunder, but will his occupation, therefore, cease to be odious in our eyes? A traitor may be useful to our country, by betraying his own, but will this alter our opinion of his treachery? Shall we love or respect it?

There is, in human nature, the love of what is right as well as the love of beauty and truth. What is right and what is beautiful have the same root in our thoughts, our affections, and our language; and all suggest to us the idea of a harmony which is pleasing and attractive.

Respect for what is Right.

Not only has that which is right a beauty that pleases us, but it has also an imposing dignity which commands our respect. If, for example, there is in your neighbourhood a peaceable, industrious, honest, and useful family, who, lest they should be a burden to others, dwell in a hovel, and are content with the bare necessaries of life, their food and clothing, may be, of the coarsest kind, yet you cannot see or think of such a family without feelings of respect. Nor will you accord the same respect to the rich and the great, who live in splendour and luxury, ever intent on their own gratification, while they devolve on others the cares of business and the charge of the needy. You feel no such respect for those men who have never yet risen to the dignity of human nature by lofty thoughts or generous sentiments. They may allow themselves in sins which will serve their own selfish interests, they may oppress the weak, may sacrifice them to their vanity or ambition, they may make a mock at truth and justice, they may inhabit gorgeous palaces, may walk abroad sur

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