they had just heard, and also to name its opposite, and to think whether they discovered it in themselves, and so on. Much that was excellent and worthy of reflection was thus brought forward, and the whole was calculated for the child's development. Many a word of dewy, primeval freshness proceeded from those childish lips, but also much that was childish and unsatisfactory both from child and teacher. In any case, this is a method which, though it would not answer in schools of any extent, is one which every mother ought to reflect upon.
“What was there in your soul, in your heart?” What might not loving lips call forth in the child's consciousness, to the child's memory, by these words, spoken in the evening after the day's schooling, work, play, sorrow, and joy!
When Alcott was gone, Emerson came and remained a good hour with me. He is iron, even as the other is water. And yet, nevertheless, his world floats in an element of disintegration, and has no firm unwavering shapes. Wonderful is it how so powerful and concrete a nature as his can be satisfied with such disintegrated views. I can find fault with Emerson's mode of thought, but I must bow before his spirit and his nature. He was now on his way to New York, where he was invited to give a course of lectures. He has promised, when he returns again, to visit me. I must sometime have a more thorough conversation with him, as well on religious subjects as on the future prospects of America. I feel also a little desire for combat with him. For I never see a lion in human form without feeling my lion-heart beat. And a combat with a spirit like that is always a pleasure even if one wins no victory.
As regards Alcott, I do not know what spirit of contradiction makes me continually excited by him, as well as to amuse myself with him. I sincerely appreciate, however, the beautiful aims of the excellent idealist, and
