behind it from that wholesome effort at expression so essential to growth, and the clear apprehension of thought. For, without doubt, an idea is more firmly grasped and retained, and becomes negotiable only, by its clear enunciation. Generally speaking, "what we know, but cannot tell," is held by a very uncertain tenure. Thus, while the pupil should be urged to make his title good by the clear expression of his thought, he should realize that the most perfect reading fails to perceive the language consciously, or to retain it, leaving the thought disembodied, as it were, until the exigencies of communication require us to clothe it.
In connection with this matter of attention, the primary school affords abundant opportunity for remark. For instance, the habit of miscalling words. From what does it arise? Supposing the thought and language to be easily within the child's comprehension, it arises in this way: His attention has been exclusively occupied with individual words, in his struggle to master them He has' failed to grasp the thought, or so much of the thought as he might have grasped up to the point of difficulty. Now, when circumstances bring the impulse to articulate a certain word, he is entirely unable to perceive whether or not the word coheres with what he has already uttered. In fact, he does not think, and cannot think, in regard to the sentiment of the sentence. His mind labors to recognize the words in their individual capacity only, and not at all in their connections. If he actually grasped the thought, although he might announce a word other than the one printed, still it would be impossible for him to announce a word which in the connection would be totally irrelevant or absurd. Now, in such a case, what is the teacher to do? To tell the child the word? To practically erase all the rest of the sentence, and to impress that individual form upon his mind? By no manner of means. This, however, is the universal practice; and from this practice partly results the abominable failure of our schools to teach our children to read fully and truly. It is the teacher's duty to get the child's mind on to the thought; to repeat the sentence, or to have it repeated, up to the point of difficulty, and to lead him by his own intellect to suggest a word, or the word, which will harmonize with the previous words. Indeed, he may not pronounce the word before his eyes, but, with any proper training, he will be far from suggesting a vocable which will present a solecism to his infantile perception. It is impossible to conceive of learning to read without miscalling words; but it is possible to conceive of a child's learning to read without pronouncing a word, among all his blunders, which his own powers are able to see is entirely absurd in the connection. Could that much be achieved, a great good would be done for us in after-life. One-half of the want of perception and attention which we now exhibit would be corrected.
Later in school-life teachers encounter this thing as a difficulty.
