enough; an exception, of course, must be made of those who are intended for a learned profession, and especially of those whose life is to be spent in instructing others. Clergymen and schoolmasters must be well instructed, or they can not teach. A certain number of scholars and men of science are necessary, but it is not necessary that any of us should attempt the acquisition of universal knowledge. It is not possible, nor desirable, if it were possible, that all should become Bentleys or Porsons. Education does enough if it puts into the hands of youth the key of knowledge, and teaches how to use it. It does too much if it exhausts the brain, and burdens the memory with an immense number of facts which can not be permanently retained with sufficient accuracy to be useful, and which as frequently dwarf as enlarge the intellect by checking its tendency to originate. The creative faculties of the mind are its noblest part, and what encouragement to them is given by the system of modern education? An original opinion expressed in an essay may run counter to the prejudices and hurt the feelings of the examiner, who promptly revenges himself by depriving the examinee of the marks to which he is fairly entitled. This is no imaginary case, but it can be corroborated by many an unlucky victim of this Chinese system, who has not comprehended that we have imported with it the Celestial habit of close imitation, and that we must now not only read but think in a groove, and follow, as closely as we are able to discover them, the peculiarities of the examiner's mind, after the manner of the Chinese tailor who, being directed to make a European coat on the model of an old one supplied to him, reproduced it in fac-simile, patches and all. Fortunately, most of these professors have written books; it is, therefore, in most cases easy enough to win their good graces by a slavish imitation, which is said to be the most delicate and seductive kind of flattery. Thus both are ingeniously demoralized, and learning certainly is not advanced. But are not the advantages of education, even of the best, greatly over-rated? One spark of genius is worth all that was ever taught in schools. Who are the men who have enlightened and transformed the world? Certainly not the most highly educated. It might almost be maintained that those who have done most have learned least from others. Alexander the Great, indeed, was highly educated for his time, but, as he began active life at sixteen, when he commanded a wing of his father's army at the battle of Chæronea, he had not leisure to acquire much; and it may safely be affirmed that it was not the precepts of Aristotle which showed him how to overthrow the Persian Empire, and leave a name which will be remembered as long as the world shall last. His acute intellect, his daring spirit, his boundless ambition, resistless and untiring energy, and his iron will were his instructors, and made him the master of the world. "Sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child," did not acquire the power to warble "his native wood-notes wild" at the village school, which yet prepared
