attending to the circumstances
connected with the operation of the principle in adults.--The person who
returned for his great-coat or umbrella after having drawn the inference
from the appearance of the sky, thought only of the coming shower; and
we could easily suppose a case, where the original indication of the sky
might be totally forgotten, while the full impression that it would rain
might still continue. In like manner, the mariner, in the bustle of
preparation, thinks only of the dreaded storm, while the original
circumstance,--the knowledge from which the inference was drawn,--is now
unheeded, or entirely forgotten.

The other circumstance to which we would here solicit attention, as
proving the same thing, is one to which we formerly alluded. It is the
remarkable fact, that knowledge, of whatever kind, when it is practised,
becomes more and more familiar and useful; while that which is not acted
upon, is soon blotted from the memory and lost. Writing, arithmetic, and
spelling, not to speak of grammar, geography, and history, when not
exercised in after life, are frequently found of no avail, even at times
when they are specially required.--Why is this? They were once known.
The knowledge was communicated at a time when the mind and memory were
best fitted for receiving and retaining them. But Nature in this, as in
every other instance, has been true to herself; and the knowledge which
is not used has been blighted, and at last removed from the memory and
lost.

From all these circumstances taken together, we are led to conclude,
that Nature never conveys knowledge without intending it to be
used;--that by a principle in our constitution, which we have
denominated "common sense," Nature prompts even infants to employ their
knowledge for their own special benefit;--that this principle continues
invariably to act, till it is assisted or superseded by reason;--and
that the process consists in drawing inferences, or lessons, from known
facts, and in practically applying them to present circumstances. All
which points the Educationist directly to the conclusion, that the
communication of knowledge is one of the _means_, but not the _end_, of
education;--that the lessons derived from the knowledge communicated,
are infinitely more valuable than the knowledge itself;--and that the
great design of education is, and ought to be, to train the young to
know how to use, and to put to use, not only the knowledge communica