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214 whose true value they cannot know from not having earned it, and whose power as an instrument of good they ought never to forget. Our hour for arithmetic was an exceedingly busy one, and I strove to make it interesting. Yet I could not flatter myself with universal success. Those who excelled were rather exceptions—certainly a minority. I examined myself, not without reproach. I applied the axiom, that if any study is not agreeable to scholars, the teacher is in fault. It had been a favorite science of mine from early childhood, having been inured from the age of eight to keep accounts for my father. I could not discover where the deficiency was, unless I came to the conclusion that a love of arithmetic is not indigenous in the female mind; for I was forced to admit that a class of boys of equal age, in the common district schools, would surpass most of my proficients. To add a feature of novelty, I gave, once a week, exercises in mental arithmetic, beginning simply with the multiplication of one number by itself, until the amount became as large as their memories could retain. To my surprise, they did well in these exercises, seeming scarcely conscious of their difficulty. These were at length omitted, as causing too much mental excitement.

In the Grammar of our language, so often denounced as a dry study, we were particularly fortunate. The etymology which they had from the