e upper
forms, and insure their success under examination; I admit that he
should know English thoroughly, to be able to explain to them the
delicacies of the French language, and maintain good discipline in his
classes; I admit that he should be able to teach grammar, philology,
history, literature; but I maintain that he ought never to lose sight
of the most important object of the study of a living language,--the
putting of it into practice; he should, above all things, and by all
means, aim at making his pupils speak French. It is not enough that he
should speak to them in French, even in the upper forms, where he would
be perfectly understood: understanding a language and speaking it are
two very different things. Neither will he attain his end by means of
dull manuals of imaginary conversations with the butcher, the baker,
and the candlestick-maker; these will, at most, be useful in helping a
foreigner to ask for what he wants at a _table d'hote_. You will not
get grown-up, intelligent, and well-educated boys to come out of their
shells, unless you make it worth their while. Now, Englishmen, like
Americans, love argument, very often for argument's sake, and every
school-boy, in England as in America, is a member of some society or
committee, and at its meetings tries his wings, discusses, harangues,
and prepares himself for that great parliamentary life, which is the
strength of the nation.

Then, I ask, why not turn this love of discussion to account?

Start a French debating society in every school, and you will teach
your generation to speak French. Such a proposition may sound bold, but
it has been tried in several public schools, and has proved a complete
success.

What cannot a teacher do that has succeeded in winning the esteem and
affection of his pupils? First, make them respect you, then gain their
hearts, and you will lead the young by a thread.

Take twenty or thirty boys, old enough to appreciate the interest you
feel in them, and say to them, "My young friends, let us arrange to
meet once a week, and see if we cannot speak French together. We will
chat about any thing you like: politics even. Do not be afraid to open
your lips, it is only _la premiere phrase qui coute_. I am neither
a Pecksniff nor a pedant, a dotard nor a wet blanket; in your company,
I feel as young as the youngest among you. Do not imagine that I shall
bring you up for the slightest error of pronunciation you make. I
remember