powers of observation. The difficulty, however, is not so much to awaken a power, which is called into action from the very first hours of life, as to improve and direct it. The question is, not simply to observe, but to observe that which is worth observing. Most people have observation enough for that which interests them; women, in particular, are quick and nice observers, but, unfortunately, their observation is generally directed to points of no real value. They will note, with minute accuracy, every detail in the dress, equipage, or manner of their acquaintance, while they remain blind to changes in the spirit of the times, to the working of principles which affect, perhaps, every social relation around them. Even where observation is of a higher kind, the want of reflection often makes it useless. The consequence is, that in society we often hear women make quick and clever remarks on people and things, but seldom hear them utter a reflection which shows that their inquiry or observation has extended below the surface.

When we speak, then, of training the habit of observation, we mean in connection with a rational spirit of inquiry, and a sense of the relative importance of the points to be observed. We may refer to the clever little work by Miss Martineau, entitled, "How to observe," as showing how powerful an instrument is accurate and well-directed observation in the attainment of knowledge. Wherever our object is the collection of facts, it is evident that observation is the first and most important means of attaining it: but its value depends on what we observe. Of two people, for instance, who give an account of the same event, one will add detail to detail, till the mind of the hearer becomes confused by their multiplicity, while the other, seizing only upon the important points, those which give the character of the fact, will, in a few words, convey a clear and accurate impression of it. Just as a mere sketch or outline by a master-hand conveys more in its few characteristic touches than the finished and labored drawing of a less practised artist. There are two conditions, then, necessary to make observation useful: - 1st. That the mind be sufficiently alive and interested to observe quickly and accurately. 2d. That we have some

guiding principle to direct our observations. To say that we will observe every thing, is tantamount to saying, that we shall observe nothing. In travelling, for instance, if we have any object beyond the mere passive pleasure which arises from change of place and scene, we must know beforehand what sort of information we wish for, and to what we should direct observation, in order to attain it. The observation of the naturalist, the politician, or the artist will naturally take a dif ferent direction, according to the different class of facts they are in search of; and though we be neither naturalists, politicians, or artists, we must equally know what we want to observe, if we wish to derive any information from our observations. The next point is, that we should seek in every object or fact for its leading features, the characteristics which distinguish it specifically from other objects or facts. The power of doing this rapidly and accurately is that which constitutes a good observer, and is an important element of judgment, the soundness of which must depend on our correct appreciation of the facts before us. Such observation as this includes the exercise of two other very important faculties, namely, comparison and abstraction. The latter separates those qualities in an object which are common to it with other objects, from those which are peculiar to itself, and which, therefore, constitute its character or individuality. Comparison brings together the objects so distinguished, in order to see what relation they may bear to each other, or to some third object; and the exercise which the habit of observation gives to faculties so important constitutes its chief advantage, when viewed with reference to the cultivation of reason.

The value of acute observation to all those engaged in the labor of education, makes the proper training of this habit peculiarly important to women. The characteristics, whether bodily or mental, of children, manifest themselves by such slight indications, that they escape the eye of any but an acute observer. In the case of illness, we all know the importance of detecting the first symptoms of the disease, and the same care and vigilance are yet more important with regard to the moral health of

the child. The germs of error, nay, of vice, lie concealed under the demonstrations of childish feeling; the seeds of violent passions, of rooted prejudices, are sown at an early age, and fostered by circumstances to which an unobservant person attaches no importance; such a one will laugh at an exhibition of childish wrath or jealousy, vanity, or petty malice, in which another would read with pity and alarm a long tale of future guilt and misery. The evil which is not seen is, of course, not checked; and it silently increases, till it has gained a height which baffles the remedies applied at last, but too late.

The indications of peculiar talent are in the same manner perceptible only to the observing, and hence we daily see children tied down to studies repulsive to their tastes and inclinations, while strictly debarred from others for which they have natural dispositions. It is true, that where there is real genius,

it breaks through all restraints. Parental blindness could not prevent Petrarch from earning immortal fame as a poet, nor Pascal from taking the rank nature had assigned him among mathematicians; but more ordinary talents are more easily stifled; and we are inclined to attribute much of the mediocrity which afflicts the world to the want of intelligent observation in parents and teachers, owing to which the natural talents of children are crushed or misdirected.

THE office of observation is to supply us with information with regard to external objects, and to observe well necessarily implies a certain exercise of attention. But attention requires a more continued effort of the mind; it does not pass, like observation, from object to object, but chooses one on which to fix itself, to the exclusion of all others. Children begin to observe in early infancy, but it is not till much later that they are capable of continued attention. Nor is it to outward objects only that attention can be directed; it may be turned inward to the operations of the mind and the succession of thought. Reflec

tion is an act of continued attention, keeping certain points before the mind, just as certain objects are kept before the eyes, till our purpose in detaining them is fulfilled. This is the highest effort of attention. Outward objects force themselves on our notice, and easily arrest it; in reading, the forms of the letters, the visible images of thought, help to fix the wandering mind; but to call up thought, unassisted by sight or sound, to arrest its rapid course, or turn it into a different channel, to shut out the world of sensation in order to examine the workings of the world within, requires a mental effort which long practice can alone make easy. The results, however, are worth the labor they cost, for without this power of continued attention we are incapable of reflection, of connected thought, and therefore of reasoning.

In every attempt at education, attention is necessarily trained up to a certain point. The first lesson he learns teaches the child that without attention he can accomplish nothing; but the mental effort required of him is often unwillingly made, and the consequence is, that unless the teacher can find means, by exciting his interest, to make him give a willing attention, he will exercise the faculty only under the pressure of external constraint, and no habit will be formed in his mind. In later years, when the external restraint is removed, the mind, unused to voluntary exertion, accustomed to follow the impulse of the moment, and yield to each impression given to the current of thought by external objects, cannot exercise the self-control needful to concentrate its attention for more than a few moments, and after hours of reading and apparent study, it will be found that those short moments are all that have been really spent to any purpose.

Without by any means assenting to the common theory that whatever is seriously attended to will remain impressed on the memory, we may boldly affirm the converse proposition, that nothing which has not excited attention can be remembered. This fact is so obvious, that most people conscious of habits of inattention feel the necessity of correcting them, though they may not set to work with sufficient vigor or a good choice of

means.

But besides the intellectual deficiencies it entails, there is in inattention a want of earnestness of purpose, which, if allowed to become habitual, even in trifling things, is hurtful to the mind. We are inattentive only because we are uninterested, and we should augur ill of the moral state of any one who is habitually uninterested. Attention is a kind of intellectual sincerity; it proves that we are in earnest in what we undertake, and its absence may therefore be regarded as an indication of more serious defects.

In speaking of method, we have shown how important it is to those who, like women, are liable to constant interruptions from domestic matters requiring immediate attention, to have the power of turning the latter at once, and completely, from one subject to another. This habit is of great value, not only as facilitating pursuits which without it could not be carried on, but as aiding us to gain that control over our own faculties which is an essential element of presence of mind, and insures the free and undisturbed use of reason whenever it may be required. Great concentration of thought, producing abstraction, will make this habit very difficult to acquire; but there are few who can plead such an excuse for not possessing it, and the more general causes of its deficiency are sluggishness of mind and absence of self-control.

The first step towards gaining command over our attention is to acquire the habit of steady application to whatever matter we have in hand. Some studies are in this respect preferable to others; arithmetic or geometry, for instance, to history; and, generally, whatever gives something to do, something which forces the mind to act, instead of leaving it to follow passively the narrative or reasonings of others. We must watch and check the habit of inattention in ourselves, as we should in a child we were teaching; questioning and examining ourselves as to the progress we have made, and testing it by the power of giving, in words or writing, the results of the day's study, or at least of some definite portion of the day's study.* Different

* See the Chapter on Study.