"The heart! What is head-learning worth, if the heart is left uneducated? As Pestalozzi used to say, The soul is the true end of all education. Religion itself is a failure, without right character." "But you wouldn't teach morals as a science, would you?" "I would train the heart to feel, and the soul to love to be just and do right, and make obedience to the moral sense the habit of life. This can best be done at the school age, and I tell you that this is the highest education. A boy who can spell all the words in the spelling-book, and bound all the countries in the world, and repeat all the dates of history, and yet who could have the heart to crush a turtle, has not been properly educated." "Then your view is that the end of education is to make a young person do right?" "No, my good friend, pardon me if I speak plain. The end of education is not to _make_ young people do right, but to train the young heart to love to do right; to make right doing the nature and habit of life." "How would you begin?" "As that boy has begun. He has made every heart on the ground feel for that broken-shelled turtle. That boy will one day become a leader among men. He has a heart. The head may make friends, but only the heart can hold them. It is the heart-power that serves and rules. The best thing that can be said of any one is, 'He is true-hearted.' I like that boy. He is true-hearted. His first client a turtle, it may not be his last. Train him well. He will honor you some day." The boys took the turtle to the pond and left him on the bank. Jasper watched them. He then turned to the backwoods teacher, and said: "That, sir, is the result of right education. First teach character; second, life; third, books. Let education begin in the heart, and everybody made to feel that right makes might." CHAPTER V. JASPER COBBLES FOR AUNT OLIVE.--HER QUEER STORIES. Aunt Olive Eastman had made herself a relative to every one living between the two Pigeon Creeks. She had formed this large acquaintance with the pioneers by attending the camp-meetings of the Methodists and the four-days' meetings of the Baptists in southern Indiana, and the school-house meetings everywhere. She was a widow, was full of rude energy and benevolence, had a sharp tongue, a kindly heart, and a measure of good sense. But she was "far from perfect," as she used to very humbly acknowledge in the many pioneer meetings that she attended. "I make mistakes sometimes," she used to say, "and it is because I am a fallible creatur'." She was an always busy woman, and the text of her life was "Work," and her practice was in harmony with her teaching. "Work, work, my friends and brethren," she once said in the log school-house meeting. "Work while the day is passin'. We's all children of the clay. To-day we're here smart as pepper-grass, and to-morrer we're gone like the cucumbers of the ground. Up, and be doin'--up, and be doin'!"