child is anxious to know how a squirrel
climbs a tree or cracks a nut; where it stores its winter food, its
nest and manner of life in winter. Why is it that a mole can burrow
and live under ground? How is it possible for a fish to breathe in
water? _Esthetic_ interest is awakened by what is beautiful, grand,
and harmonious in nature or art. The first glance at great overhanging
masses of rock, oppresses us with a feeling of awe. The wings of an
insect, with their delicate tracery and bright hues, are attractive,
and stir us with pleasure. The graceful ferns beside the brooks and
moss-stained rocks suggest fairy-land.

But stronger even than these interests which attach us to the things of
nature, are the interests of _humanity_. The concern felt for others
in joy or sorrow is based upon our interest in them individually, and
is _sympathetic_. In this lies the charm of biography and the novel.
Take away the personal interest we have in Ivanhoe, Quenten Durward,
etc., and Scott's glory would quickly depart. What empty and
spiritless annals would the life of Frederic the Great and Patrick
Henry furnish! _Social_ interest is the regard for the good or evil
fortune of societies and nations. Upon this depends our concern for
the progress of liberty and the struggle for free institutions in
England and other countries. On a smaller scale clubs, fraternities,
and local societies of all kinds are based on the social interest.
_Religious_ interest finally reveals our consciousness of man's
littleness and weakness, and of God's providence. As Pestalozzi says,
"God is the nearest resource of humanity." As individuals or nations
pass away their fate lies in His hand.

The _sources_ of interest therefore are varied and productive. Any one
of the six is unlimited in extent and variety. Together they
constitute a boundless field for a proper cultivation of the emotional
as well as intellectual nature of man. A study of these sources of
genuine interest and a partial view of their breadth and depth, reveals
to teachers what our present school courses tend strongly to make them
forget, namely, that the right kind of knowledge contains in itself the
stimulus and the germs to great mental exertion. The dull drill upon
grammar, arithmetic, reading, spelling, and writing, which are regarded
as so important as to exclude almost everything else, has convinced
many a child that school is veritably a dull place. And many a t