Читать книгу: «The Teacher»

POWER PRESS OF WILLIAM S. DAMRELL

TO THE

TRUSTEES AND PATRONS

OF THE

MT. VERNON FEMALE SCHOOL, BOSTON

GENTLEMEN:

It is to efforts which you have made in the cause of education, with special regard to its moral and religious aspects, that I have been indebted for the opportunity to test by experiment, under the most pleasant and favorable circumstances, the principles which form the basis of this work. To you, therefore, it is respectfully inscribed, as one of the indirect results of your own exertions to promote the best interests of the Young.

I am very sincerely and respectfully yours,

THE AUTHOR.

PREFACE

This book is intended to detail, in a familiar and practical manner, a system of arrangements for the organization and management of a school, based on the employment, so far as is practicable, of Moral Influences, as a means of effecting the objects in view. Its design is, not to bring forward new theories or new plans, but to develope and explain, and to carry out to their practical applications, such principles as, among all skilful and experienced teachers, are generally admitted and acted upon. Of course it is not designed for the skilful and the experienced themselves; but it is intended to embody what they already know, and to present it in a practical form, for the use of those who are beginning the work and who wish to avail themselves of the experience which others have acquired.

Although moral influences, are the chief foundations on which the power of the teacher over the minds and hearts of his pupils is, according to this treatise, to rest, still it must not be imagined that the system here recommended is one of persuasion. It is a system of authority,—supreme and unlimited authority, a point essential in all plans for the supervision of the young. But it is authority secured and maintained as far as possible by moral measures. There will be no dispute about the propriety of making the most of this class of means. Whatever difference of opinion there may be, on the question whether physical force, is necessary at all, every one will agree that, if ever employed, it must be only as a last resort, and that no teacher ought to make war upon the body, unless it is proved that he cannot conquer through the medium of the mind.

In regard to the anecdotes and narratives which are very freely introduced to illustrate principles in this work, the writer ought to state, that though they are all substantially true, that is, all except those which are expressly introduced as mere suppositions, he has not hesitated to alter very freely, for obvious reasons, the unimportant circumstances connected with them. He has endeavored thus to destroy the personality of the narratives, without injuring or altering their moral effect.

From the very nature of our employment, and of the circumstances under which the preparation for it must be made, it is plain that, of the many thousands who are, in the United States, annually entering the work, a very large majority must depend for all their knowledge of the art except what they acquire from their own observation and experience, on what they can obtain from books. It is desirable that the class of works from which such knowledge can be obtained should be increased. Some excellent and highly useful specimens have already appeared, and very many more would be eagerly read by teachers, if properly prepared. It is essential however that they should be written by experienced teachers, who have for some years been actively engaged, and specially interested in the work;—that they should be written in a very practical and familiar style,—and that they should exhibit principles which are unquestionably true, and generally admitted by good teachers, and not the new theories peculiar to the writer himself. In a word, utility, and practical effect, should be the only aim.

Boston, June 20, 1833.

CHAPTER I.
INTEREST IN TEACHING

There is a most singular contrariety of opinion prevailing in the community, in regard to the pleasantness of the business of teaching. Some teachers go to their daily task, merely upon compulsion: they regard it as intolerable drudgery. Others love the work: they hover around the school-room as long as they can, and never cease to think, and seldom to talk, of their delightful labors.

Unfortunately there are too many of the former class, and the first object, which, in this work, I shall attempt to accomplish, is to show my readers, especially those who have been accustomed to look upon the business of teaching as a weary and heartless toil, how it happens, that it is, in any case, so pleasant. The human mind is always, essentially, the same. That which is tedious and joyless to one, will be so to another, if pursued in the same way, and under the same circumstances. And teaching, if it is pleasant, animating, and exciting to one, may be so to all.

I am met, however, at the outset, in my effort to show why it is that teaching is ever a pleasant work, by the want of a name for a certain faculty or capacity of the human mind, through which most of the enjoyment of teaching finds its avenue. Every mind is so constituted as to take a positive pleasure in the exercise of ingenuity in adapting means to an end, and in watching their operation;—in accomplishing by the intervention of instruments, what we could not accomplish without;—in devising, (when we see an object to be effected, which is too great for our direct and immediate power) and setting at work, some instrumentality, which may be sufficient to accomplish it.

It is said, that, when the steam engine was first put into operation, such was the imperfection of the machinery, that a boy was necessarily stationed at it, to open and shut alternately the cock, by which the steam was now admitted, and now shut out, from the cylinder. One such boy, after patiently doing his work for many days, contrived to connect this stop-cock with some of the moving parts of the engine, by a wire, in such a manner, that the engine itself did the work which had been entrusted to him; and after seeing that the whole business would go regularly forward, he left the wire in charge, and went away to play.

Such is the story. Now if it is true, how much pleasure the boy must have experienced, in devising and witnessing the successful operation of his scheme; I do not mean the pleasure of relieving himself from a dull and wearisome duty; I do not mean the pleasure of anticipated play; but I mean the strong interest he must have taken in contriving and executing his plan. When, wearied out with his dull, monotonous work, he first noticed those movements of the machinery which he thought adapted to his purpose, and the plan flashed into his mind, how must his eye have brightened, and how quick must the weary listlessness of his employment have vanished. While he was maturing his plan, and carrying it into execution;—while adjusting his wires, fitting them to the exact length, and to the exact position,—and especially, when, at last, he watches the first successful operation of his contrivance,—he must have enjoyed a pleasure, which very few, even of the joyous sports of childhood, could have supplied.

It is not, however, exactly the pleasure of exercising ingenuity in contrivance, that I refer to here; for the teacher has not, after all, a great deal of absolute contriving to do,—or rather his principal business is not contriving. The greatest and most permanent source of pleasure to the boy, in such a case as I have described, is his feeling that he is accomplishing a great effect by a slight effort of his own; the feeling of power; acting through the intervention of instrumentality, so as to multiply his power. So great would be this satisfaction, that he would almost wish to have some other similar work assigned him, that he might have another opportunity to contrive some plan for its easy accomplishment.

Looking at an object to be accomplished, or an evil to be remedied, then studying its nature and extent, and devising and executing some means for effecting the purpose desired, is, in all cases, a source of pleasure; especially when, by the process, we bring to view or to operation, new powers, or powers heretofore hidden, whether they are our own powers, or those of objects upon which we act. Experimenting has a sort of magical fascination for all. Some do not like the trouble of making preparations, but all are eager to see the results. Contrive a new machine, and every body will be interested to witness, or to hear of its operation;—develope any heretofore unknown properties of matter, or secure some new useful effect, from laws which men have not hitherto employed for their purposes, and the interest of all around you will be excited to observe your results;—and especially, you will yourself take a deep and permanent pleasure, in guiding and controlling the power you have thus obtained.

This is peculiarly the case with experiments upon mind, or experiments for producing effects through the medium of voluntary acts of the human mind, so that the contriver must take into consideration the laws of mind in forming his plans. To illustrate this by rather a childish case: I once knew a boy who was employed by his father to remove all the loose small stones, which, from the peculiar nature of the ground, had accumulated in the road before the house. He was to take them up, and throw them over into the pasture, across the way. He soon got tired of picking them up one by one, and sat down upon the bank, to try to devise some better means of accomplishing his work. He at length conceived and adopted the following plan. He set up, in the pasture, a narrow board, for a target, or as boys would call it, a mark,—and then, collecting all the boys of the neighborhood, he proposed to them an amusement, which boys are always ready for,—firing at a mark. I need not say that the stores of ammunition in the street were soon exhausted; the boys working for their leader, when they supposed they were only finding amusement for themselves.

Here now, is experimenting upon the mind;—the production of useful effect with rapidity and ease, by the intervention of proper instrumentality;—the conversion, by means of a little knowledge of human nature, of that which would have otherwise been dull and fatiguing labor, into a most animating sport, giving pleasure to twenty, instead of tedious labor to one. Now the contrivance and execution of such plans is a source of positive pleasure; it is always pleasant to bring the properties and powers of matter into requisition to promote our designs,—but there is a far higher pleasure in controlling, and guiding, and moulding to our purpose the movements of mind.

It is this which gives interest to the plans and operation of human governments. They can do little by actual force. Nearly all the power that is held, even by the most despotic executive, must be based on an adroit management of the principles of human nature, so as to lead men voluntarily to cooperate with the ruler, in his plans. Even an army could not be got into battle, in many cases, without a most ingenious arrangement, by means of which half a dozen men can drive, literally drive, as many thousands, into the very face of danger and death. The difficulty of leading men to battle must have been for a long time a very perplexing one to generals. It was at last removed by the very simple expedient of creating a greater danger behind than there is before. Without ingenuity of contrivance like this,—turning one principle of human nature against another, and making it for the momentary interest of men to act in a given way, no government could stand a year.

I know of nothing which illustrates more perfectly the way by which a knowledge of human nature is to be turned to account in managing human minds, than a plan which was adopted for clearing the galleries of the British House of Commons, as it was described to me by a gentleman who had visited London. It is well known that the gallery is appropriated to spectators, and that it sometimes becomes necessary to order them to retire, when a vote is to be taken, or private business is to be transacted. When the officer in attendance was ordered to clear the gallery, it was sometimes found to be a very troublesome and slow operation; for those who first went out, remained obstinately as close to the doors as possible, so as to secure the opportunity to come in again first, when the doors should be re-opened. The consequence was, there was so great an accumulation around the doors outside, that it was almost impossible for the crowd to get out. The whole difficulty arose from the eager desire of every one to remain as near as possible to the door, through which they were to come back again. I have been told, that, notwithstanding the utmost efforts of the officers, fifteen minutes were sometimes consumed in effecting the object, when the order was given that the spectators should retire.

The whole difficulty was removed by a very simple plan. One door only was opened when the crowd was to retire, and they were then admitted through the other. The consequence was, that as soon as the order was given to clear the galleries, every one fled as fast as possible through the open door around to the one which was closed, so as to be ready to enter first, when that, in its turn, should be opened; this was usually in a few minutes, as the purpose for which the spectators were ordered to retire was usually simply to allow time for taking a vote. Here it will be seen that by the operation of a very simple plan, the very eagerness of the crowd to get back as soon as possible, which had been the sole cause of the difficulty, was turned to account most effectually to remove it. Before, they were so eager to return, that they crowded around the door so as to prevent others going out. But by this simple plan of ejecting them by one door, and admitting them by another, that very circumstance made them clear the passage at once, and hurried every one away into the lobby, the moment the command was given.

The planner of this scheme must have taken great pleasure in seeing its successful operation; though the officer who should go steadily on, endeavoring to remove the reluctant throng by dint of mere driving, might well have found his task unpleasant. But the exercise of ingenuity in studying the nature of the difficulty with which a man has to contend, and bringing in some antagonist principle of human nature to remove it, or if not an antagonist principle, a similar principle, operating, by a peculiar arrangement of circumstances, in an antagonist manner, is always pleasant. From this source a large share of the enjoyment which men find in the active pursuits of life, has its origin.

The teacher has the whole field, which this subject opens, fully before him. He has human nature to deal with, most directly. His whole work is experimenting upon mind; and the mind which is before him to be the subject of his operation, is exactly in the state to be most easily and pleasantly operated upon. The reason now why some teachers find their work delightful, and some find it wearisomeness and tedium itself, is that some do, and some do not take this view of their work. One instructer is like the engine-boy, turning without cessation or change, his everlasting stop-cock, in the same ceaseless, mechanical, and monotonous routine. Another is like the little workman in his brighter moments, fixing his invention and watching with delight its successful and easy accomplishment of his wishes. One is like the officer, driving by vociferations and threats, and demonstrations of violence, the spectators from the galleries. The other, like the shrewd contriver, who converts the very cause which was the whole ground of the difficulty, to a most successful and efficient means of its removal.

These principles show how teaching may, in some cases, be a delightful employment, while in others, its tasteless dulness is interrupted by nothing but its perplexities and cares. The school-room is in reality, a little empire of mind. If the one who presides in it, sees it in its true light; studies the nature and tendency of the minds which he has to control; adapts his plans and his measures to the laws of human nature, and endeavors to accomplish his purposes for them, not by mere labor and force, but by ingenuity and enterprise; he will take pleasure in administering his little government. He will watch, with care and interest, the operation of the moral and intellectual causes which he sets in operation; and find, as he accomplishes his various objects with increasing facility and power, that he will derive a greater and greater pleasure from his work.

Now when a teacher thus looks upon his school as a field in which he is to exercise skill and ingenuity and enterprise; when he studies the laws of human nature, and the character of those minds upon which he has to act; when he explores deliberately the nature of the field which he has to cultivate, and of the objects which he wishes to accomplish; and applies means, judiciously and skilfully adapted to the object; he must necessarily take a strong interest in his work. But when, on the other hand, he goes to his employment, only to perform a certain regular round of daily work, undertaking nothing, and anticipating nothing but this dull and unchangeable routine; and when he looks upon his pupils merely as passive objects of his labors, whom he is to treat with simple indifference while they obey his commands, and to whom he is only to apply reproaches and punishment when they disobey; such a teacher never can take pleasure in the school. Weariness and dulness must reign in both master and scholars, when things, as he imagines, are going right; and mutual anger and crimination, when they go wrong.

Scholars never can be instructed by the power of any dull mechanical routine; nor can they be governed by the blind, naked strength of the master; such means must fail of the accomplishment of the purposes designed, and consequently the teacher who tries such a course must have constantly upon his mind the discouraging, disheartening burden of unsuccessful and almost useless labor. He is continually uneasy, dissatisfied and filled with anxious cares; and sources of vexation and perplexity continually arise. He attempts to remove evils by waging against them a useless and most vexatious warfare of threatening and punishment; and he is trying continually to drive, when he might know that neither the intellect nor the heart are capable of being driven.

I will simply state one case, to illustrate what I mean by the difference between blind force, and active ingenuity and enterprise, in the management of school. I once knew the teacher of a school, who made it his custom to have writing attended to in the afternoon. The boys were accustomed to take their places, at the appointed hour, and each one would stick up his pen in the front of his desk for the teacher to pass around and mend them. The teacher would accordingly pass around, mending the pens from desk to desk, thus enabling the boys, in succession, to begin their task. Of course each boy before he came to his desk was necessarily idle, and, almost necessarily, in mischief. Day after day the teacher went through this regular routine. He sauntered slowly and listlessly through the aisles, and among the benches of the room, wherever he saw the signal of a pen. He paid of course very little attention to the writing, now and then reproving, with an impatient tone, some extraordinary instance of carelessness, or leaving his work to suppress some rising disorder. Ordinarily, however, he seemed to be lost in vacancy of thought,—dreaming perhaps of other scenes, or inwardly repining at the eternal monotony and tedium of a teacher's life. His boys took no interest in their work, and of course made no progress. They were sometimes unnecessarily idle, and sometimes mischievous, but never usefully or pleasantly employed; for the whole hour was past before the pens could all be brought down. Wasted time, blotted books, and fretted tempers, were all the results which the system produced.

The same teacher afterwards acted on a very different principle. He looked over the field and said to himself, what are the objects I wish to accomplish in this writing exercise, and how can I best accomplish them? I wish to obtain the greatest possible amount of industrious and careful practice in writing. The first thing evidently is, to save the wasted time. He accordingly made preparation for mending the pens at a previous hour, so that all should be ready, at the appointed time, to commence the work together. This could be done quite as conveniently when the boys were engaged in studying, by requesting them to put out their pens at an appointed and previous time. He sat at his table, and the pens of a whole bench were brought to him, and, after being carefully mended, were returned, to be in readiness for the writing hour. Thus the first difficulty, the loss of time, was obviated.

"I must make them industrious while they write," was his next thought. After thinking of a variety of methods, he determined to try the following. He required all to begin together at the top of the page and write the same line, in a hand of the same size. They were all required to begin together, he himself beginning at the same time, and writing about as fast as he thought they ought to write, in order to secure the highest improvement. When he had finished his line, he ascertained how many had preceded him, and how many were behind. He requested the first to write slower, and the others faster, and by this means, after a few trials, he secured uniform, regular, systematic and industrious employment, throughout the school. Probably there were, at first, difficulties in the operation of the plan, which he had to devise ways and means to surmount: but what I mean to present particularly to the reader is, that he was interested in his experiments. While sitting in his desk, giving his command to begin line after line, and noticing the unbroken silence, and attention, and interest, which prevailed, (for each boy was interested to see how nearly with the master he could finish his work,) while presiding over such a scene, he must have been interested. He must have been pleased with the exercise of his almost military command, and to witness how effectually order and industry, and excited and pleased attention, had taken the place of listless idleness and mutual dissatisfaction.

After a few days, he appointed one of the older and more judicious scholars, to give the word for beginning and ending the lines, and he sat surveying the scene, or walking from desk to desk, noticing faults, and considering what plans he could form for securing, more and more fully, the end he had in view. He found that the great object of interest and attention among the boys was, to come out right, and that less pains were taken with the formation of the letters, than there ought to be, to secure the most rapid improvement.

But how shall he secure greater pains? By stern commands and threats? By going from desk to desk, scolding one, rapping the knuckles of another, and holding up to ridicule a third, making examples of such individuals as may chance to attract his special attention? No; he has learned that he is operating upon a little empire of mind, and that he is not to endeavor to drive them as a man drives a herd, by mere peremptory command or half angry blows. He must study the nature of the effect he is to produce, and of the materials upon which he is to work, and adopt, after mature deliberation, a plan to accomplish his purpose, founded upon the principles which ought always to regulate the action of mind upon mind, and adapted to produce the intellectual effect, which he wishes to accomplish.

In the case supposed, the teacher concluded to appeal to emulation. While I describe the measure he adopted, let it be remembered that I am now only approving of the resort to ingenuity and invention, and the employment of moral and intellectual means, for the accomplishment of his purposes, and not of the measures themselves. I do not think the plan I am going to describe a wise one; but I do think that the teacher, while trying it, must have been interested in his intellectual experiment. His business, while pursued in such a way, could not have been a mere dull and uninteresting routine.

He purchased, for three cents apiece, two long lead-pencils, an article of great value, in the opinion of the boys of country schools; and he offered them, as prizes, to the boy who would write most carefully; not to the one who should write best, but to the one whose book should exhibit most appearance of effort and care for a week. After announcing his plan, he watched, with strong interest its operation. He walked round the room while the writing was in progress, to observe the effect of his measure. He did not reprove those who were writing carelessly; he simply noticed who and how many they were. He did not commend those who were evidently making effort; he noticed who and how many they were, that he might understand how far, and upon what sort of minds, his experiment was successful, and where it failed. He was taking a lesson in human nature,—human nature as it exhibits itself in boys, and was preparing to operate more and more powerfully by future plans.

The lesson which he learned by the experiment was this, that one or two prizes will not influence the majority of a large school. A few seemed to think that the pencils were possibly within their reach, and they made vigorous efforts to secure them; but the rest wrote on as before. Thinking it certain that they should be surpassed by the others, they gave up the contest, at once, in despair.

The obvious remedy was to multiply his prizes, so as to bring one within the reach of all. He reflected too that the real prize, in such a case, is not the value of the pencil, but the honor of the victory; and as the honor of the victory might as well be coupled with an object of less, as well as with one of greater value, the next week he divided his two pencils into quarters, and offered to his pupils eight prizes instead of two. He offered one to every five scholars, as they sat on their benches, and every boy then saw, that a reward would certainly come within five of him. His chance, accordingly, instead of being one in twenty, became one in five.

Now is it possible for a teacher, after having philosophized upon the nature of the minds upon which he is operating, and surveyed the field, and ingeniously formed a plan, which plan he hopes will, through his own intrinsic power, produce certain effects,—is it possible for him when he comes, for the first day, to witness its operations, to come without feeling a strong interest in the result? It is impossible. After having formed such a plan, and made such arrangements, he will look forward, almost with impatience, to the next writing hour. He wishes to see whether he has estimated the mental capacities and tendencies of his little community aright; and when the time comes, and he surveys the scene, and observes the operation of his measure, and sees many more are reached by it, than were influenced before, he feels a strong gratification; and it is a gratification which is founded upon the noblest principles of our nature. He is tracing on a most interesting field, the operation of cause and effect. From being the mere drudge, who drives, without intellect or thought, a score or two of boys to their daily tasks, he rises to the rank of an intellectual philosopher, exploring the laws and successfully controlling the tendencies of mind.

It will be observed too, that all the time this teacher was performing these experiments, and watching, with intense interest, the results, his pupils were going on undisturbed in their pursuits. The exercises in writing were not interrupted or deranged. This is a point of fundamental importance; for, if what I should say on the subject of exercising ingenuity and contrivance in teaching, should be the means, in any case, of leading a teacher to break in upon the regular duties of his school, and destroy the steady uniformity with which the great objects of such an institution should be pursued, my remarks had better never have been written. There may be variety in methods and plan; but through all this variety, the school, and every individual pupil of it, must go steadily forward in the acquisition of that knowledge which is of greatest importance in the business of future life. In other words, the variations and changes, admitted by the teacher, ought to be mainly confined to the modes of accomplishing those permanent objects to which all the exercises and arrangements of the school ought steadily to aim. More on this subject however in another chapter.

I will mention one other circumstance, which will help to explain the difference in interest and pleasure with which teachers engage in their work. I mean the different views they take of the offences of their pupils. One class of teachers seem never to make it a part of their calculation that their pupils will do wrong, and when any misconduct occurs, they are disconcerted and irritated, and look and act as if some unexpected occurrence had broken in upon their plans. Others understand and consider all this beforehand. They seem to think a little, before they go into their school, what sort of beings boys and girls are, and any ordinary case of youthful delinquency or dulness does not surprise them. I do not mean that they treat such cases with indifference or neglect, but that they expect them, and are prepared for them. Such a teacher knows that boys and girls, are the materials he has to work upon, and he takes care to make himself acquainted with these materials, just as they are. The other class however, do not seem to know at all, what sort of beings they have to deal with, or if they know, do not consider. They expect from them what is not to be obtained, and then are disappointed and vexed at the failure. It is as if a carpenter should attempt to support an entablature by pillars of wood too small and weak for the weight, and then go on, from week to week, suffering anxiety and irritation, as he sees them swelling and splitting under the burden, and finding fault with the wood, instead of taking it to himself.

It is, of course, one essential part of a man's duty in engaging in any undertaking, whether it will lead him to act upon matter or upon mind, to become first well acquainted with the circumstances of the case,—the materials he is to act upon, and the means which he may reasonably expect to have at his command. If he underrates his difficulties, or overrates the power of his means of overcoming them, it is his mistake; a mistake for which he is fully responsible. Whatever may be the nature of the effect which he aims at accomplishing, he ought fully to understand it, and to appreciate justly the difficulties which lie in the way.

Teachers however very often overlook this. A man comes home from his school at night, perplexed and irritated by the petty misconduct which he has witnessed, and been trying to check. He does not however, look forward and try to prevent the occasions of it, adapting his measures to the nature of the material upon which he has to operate; but he stands like the carpenter at his columns, making himself miserable in looking at it, after it occurs, and wondering what to do.

"Sir," we might say to him, "what is the matter?"

"Why, I have such boys, I can do nothing with them. Were it not for their misconduct, I might have a very good school."

"Were it not for the boys? Why, is there any peculiar depravity in them which you could not have foreseen?"

"No; I suppose they are pretty much like all other boys," he replies despairingly; "they are all hair-brained and unmanageable. The plans I have formed for my school, would be excellent if my boys would only behave properly."

"Excellent plans," might we not reply, "and yet not adapted to the materials upon which they are to operate! No. It is your business to know what sort of beings boys are, and to make your calculations accordingly."

Two teachers may therefore manage their schools in totally different ways: so that one of them, may necessarily find the business a dull, mechanical routine, except as it is occasionally varied by perplexity and irritation; and the other, a prosperous and happy employment. The one goes on mechanically the same, and depends for his power on violence, or on threats and demonstrations of violence. The other brings all his ingenuity and enterprise into the field, to accomplish a steady purpose, by means ever varying, and depends for his power, on his knowledge of human nature, and on the adroit adaptation of plans to her fixed and uniform tendencies.

I am very sorry however to be obliged to say, that probably the latter class of teachers are decidedly in the minority. To practice the art in such a way as to make it an agreeable employment, is difficult, and it requires much knowledge of human nature, much attention and skill. And, after all, there are some circumstances necessarily attending the work which constitute a heavy drawback on the pleasures which it might otherwise afford. The almost universal impression that the business of teaching is attended with peculiar trials and difficulties, proves this.

There must be some cause for an impression so general. It is not right to call it a prejudice, for, although a single individual may conceive a prejudice, whole communities very seldom do, unless in some case, which is presented at once to the whole, so that looking at it, through a common medium, all judge wrong together. But the general opinion in regard to teaching is composed of a vast number of separate and independent judgments, and there must be some good ground for the universal result.

It is best therefore, if there are any real and peculiar sources of trial and difficulty in this pursuit, that they should be distinctly known and acknowledged at the outset. Count the cost before going to war. It is even better policy to overrate, than to underrate it. Let us see then what the real difficulties of teaching are.

It is not however, as is generally supposed, the confinement. A teacher is confined, it is true, but not more than men of other professions and employments; not more than a merchant, and probably not as much. A physician is confined in a different way, but more closely than a teacher: he can never leave home: he knows generally no vacation, and nothing but accidental rest.

The lawyer is confined as much. It is true, there are not throughout the year, exact hours which he must keep, but considering the imperious demands of his business, his personal liberty is probably restrained as much by it, as that of the teacher. So with all the other professions. Although the nature of the confinement may vary, it amounts to about the same in all. On the other hand the teacher enjoys, in reference to this subject of confinement, an advantage, which scarcely any other class of men does or can enjoy. I mean vacations. A man in any other business may force himself away from it, for a time, but the cares and anxieties of his business will follow him wherever he goes, and it seems to be reserved for the teacher, to enjoy alone the periodical luxury of a real and entire release from business and care. On the whole, as to confinement, it seems to me that the teacher has but little ground of complaint.

There are however some real and serious difficulties which always have, and it is to be feared, always will, cluster around this employment; and which must, for a long time, at least, lead most men to desire some other employment for the business of life. There may perhaps be some, who by their peculiar skill, can overcome, or avoid them, and perhaps the science may, at some future day, be so far improved, that all may avoid them. As I describe them however now, most of the teachers into whose hands this treatise may fall, will probably find that their own experience corresponds, in this respect, with mine.

1. The first great difficulty which the teacher feels, is a sort of moral responsibility for the conduct of others. If his pupils do wrong, he feels almost personal responsibility for it. As he walks out, some afternoon, weary with his labors, and endeavoring to forget, for a little time, all his cares, he comes upon a group of boys, in rude and noisy quarrels, or engaged in mischief of some sort, and his heart sinks within him. It is hard enough for any one to witness their bad conduct, with a spirit unruffled and undisturbed, but for their teacher, it is perhaps impossible. He feels responsible; in fact he is responsible. If his scholars are disorderly, or negligent, or idle, or quarrelsome, he feels condemned himself, almost as if he were, himself, the actual transgressor.

This difficulty is in a great degree, peculiar to a teacher. A physician is called upon to prescribe for a patient; he examines the case, and writes his prescription. When this is done, his duty is ended, and whether the patient obeys the prescription and lives, or neglects it and dies, the physician feels exonerated from all responsibility. He may, and in some cases does feel anxious concern, and may regret the infatuation by which, in some unhappy case, a valuable life may be hazarded or destroyed. But he feels no moral responsibility for another's guilt.

It is so with all the other employments in life. They do indeed often bring men into collision with other men. But though sometimes vexed, and irritated by the conduct of a neighbor, a client, or a patient, they feel not half the bitterness of the solicitude and anxiety which come to the teacher through the criminality of his pupil. In ordinary cases he not only feels responsible for efforts, but for their results; and when, notwithstanding all his efforts, his pupils will do wrong, his spirit sinks, with an intensity of anxious despondency, which none but a teacher can understand.

This feeling of almost moral accountability for the guilt of other persons, is a continual burden. The teacher in the presence of the pupil never is free from it. It links him to them by a bond, which, perhaps, he ought not to sunder, and which he cannot sunder if he would. And sometimes, when those committed to his charge are idle, or faithless, or unprincipled, it wears away his spirits and his health together. I think there is nothing analogous to this moral connexion between teacher and pupil, unless it be in the case of a parent and child. And here on account of the comparative smallness of the number under the parent's care, the evil is so much diminished that it is easily borne.

2. The second great difficulty of the teacher's employments, is the immense multiplicity of the objects of his attention and care, during the time he is employed in his business. His scholars are individuals, and notwithstanding all that the most systematic can do, in the way of classification, they must be attended to in a great measure, as individuals. A merchant keeps his commodities together, and looks upon a cargo composed of ten thousand articles, and worth 100,000 dollars as one: he speaks of it as one: and there is, in many cases, no more perplexity in planning its destination, than if it were a single box of raisins. A lawyer may have a great many important cases, but he has only one at a time; that is, he attends to but one at a time. That one may be intricate,—involving many facts and requiring to be examined in many aspects and relations. But he looks at but few of these facts and regards but few of these relations at a time. The points which demand his attention come, one after another, in regular succession. His mind may thus be kept calm. He avoids confusion and perplexity. But no skill or classification will turn the poor teacher's hundred scholars into one, or enable him, except to a very limited extent, and for a very limited purpose, to regard them as one. He has a distinct, and, in many respects, a different work to do for every one of the crowd before him. Difficulties must be explained in detail; questions must be answered one by one; and each scholar's own conduct and character must be considered by itself. His work is thus made up of a thousand minute particulars, which are all crowding upon his attention at once, and which he cannot group together, or combine, or simplify. He must by some means or other attend to them in all their distracting individuality. And in a large and complicated school, the endless multiplicity and variety of objects of attention and care, impose a task under which few intellects can long stand.

I have said that this endless multiplicity and variety cannot be reduced and simplified by classification. I mean, of course, that this can be done only to a very limited extent, compared with what may be effected in the other pursuits of mankind. Were it not for the art of classification and system, no school could have more than ten scholars, as I intend hereafter to show. The great reliance of the teacher is upon this art, to reduce to some tolerable order, what would otherwise be the inextricable confusion of his business. He must be systematic. He must classify and arrange; but after he has done all that he can, he must still expect that his daily business will continue to consist of a vast multitude of minute particulars, from one to another of which the mind must turn with a rapidity, which, few of the other employments of life ever demand.

These are the essential sources of difficulty with which the teacher has to contend; but, as I shall endeavor to show in succeeding chapters, though they cannot be entirely removed, they can be so far mitigated by the appropriate means, as to render the employment a happy one. I have thought it best however, as this work will doubtless be read by many, who, when they read it, are yet to begin their labors, to describe frankly and fully to them the difficulties which beset the path they are about to enter. "The wisdom of the prudent is, to understand his way. It is often wisdom to understand it beforehand."

CHAPTER II.
GENERAL ARRANGEMENTS

The distraction and perplexity of the teacher's life are, as was explained in the last chapter, almost proverbial. There are other pressing and exhausting pursuits, which wear away the spirit by the ceaseless care which they impose, or perplex and bewilder the intellect by the multiplicity and intricacy of their details. But the business of teaching, by a pre-eminence not very enviable, stands, almost by common consent, at the head of the catalogue.

I have already alluded to this subject in the preceding chapter; and probably the greater majority of actual teachers will admit the truth of the view there presented. Some will however, doubtless say, that they do not find the business of teaching so perplexing and exhausting an employment. They take things calmly. They do one thing at a time, and that without useless solicitude and anxiety. So that teaching, with them, though it has, indeed, its solicitudes and cares, as every other responsible employment must necessarily have, is, after all, a calm and quiet pursuit, which they follow from month to month, and from year to year, without any extraordinary agitations, or any unusual burdens of anxiety and care.

There are indeed such cases, but they are exceptions; and unquestionably an immense majority, especially of those who are beginners in the work, find it such as I have described. I think it need not be so; or rather, I think the evil may be avoided to a very great degree. In this chapter I shall endeavor to show how order may be produced out of that almost inextricable mass of confusion, into which so many teachers, on commencing their labors, find themselves plunged.

The objects then, to be aimed at in the general arrangements of schools, are two-fold.

1. That the teacher may be left uninterrupted, to attend to one thing at a time.

2. That the individual scholars may have constant employment, and such an amount and such kinds of study, as shall be suited to the circumstances and capacities of each.

I shall examine each in their order.

1. The following are the principal things which, in a vast number of schools, are all the time pressing upon the teacher: or rather, they are the things which must, every where, press upon the teacher, except so far as, by the skill of his arrangements, he contrives to remove them.

1. Giving leave to whisper or to leave seats.

2. Mending pens.

3. Answering questions in regard to studies.

4. Hearing recitations.

5. Watching the behavior of the scholars.

6. Administering reproof and punishment for offences as they occur.

A pretty large number of objects of attention and care, one would say, to be pressing upon the mind of the teacher at one and the same time,—and all the time, too! Hundreds and hundreds of teachers in every part of our country, there is no doubt, have all these, crowding upon them from morning to night, with no cessation, except perhaps some accidental and momentary respite. During the winter months, while the principal common schools in our country are in operation, it is sad to reflect how many teachers come home, every evening, with bewildered and aching heads, having been vainly trying all the day, to do six things at a time, while He, who made the human mind, has determined that it shall do but one. How many become discouraged and disheartened by what they consider the unavoidable trials of a teacher's life, and give up in despair, just because their faculties will not sustain a six-fold task. There are multitudes who, in early life, attempted teaching, and, after having been worried, almost to distraction, by the simultaneous pressure of these multifarious cares, gave up the employment in disgust, and forever afterwards wonder how any body can like teaching. I know multitudes of persons to whom the above description will exactly apply.

I once heard a teacher who had been very successful, even in large schools, say that he could hear two classes recite, mend pens, and watch his school, all at the same time; and that, without any distraction of mind, or any unusual fatigue. Of course the recitations in such a case must be memoriter. There are very few minds however, which can thus perform triple or quadruple work, and probably none which can safely be tasked so severely. For my part, I can do but one thing at a time; and I have no question that the true policy for all, is, to learn, not to do every thing at once, but so to classify and arrange their work, that they shall have but one thing to do. Instead of vainly attempting to attend simultaneously to a dozen things, they should so plan their work, that only one will demand attention.

Let us then examine the various particulars above mentioned in succession, and see how each can be disposed of, so as not to be a constant source of interruption and derangement.

1. Whispering and leaving seats. In regard to this subject, there are very different methods, now in practice in different schools. In some, especially in very small schools, the teacher allows the pupils to act according to their own discretion. They whisper and leave their seats whenever they think it necessary. This plan may possibly be admissible in a very small school; that is, in one of ten or twelve pupils. I am convinced, however, that it is very bad here. No vigilant watch, which it is possible for any teacher to exert, will prevent a vast amount of mere talk, entirely foreign to the business of the school. I tried this plan very thoroughly, with high ideas of the dependence which might be placed upon conscience and a sense of duty, if these principles are properly brought out to action in an effort to sustain the system. I was told by distinguished teachers, that it would not be found to answer. But predictions of failure in such cases only prompt to greater exertions, and I persevered. But I was forced at last to give up the point, and adopt another plan. My pupils would make resolutions enough; they understood their duty well enough. They were allowed to leave their seats and whisper to their companions, whenever, in their honest judgment, it was necessary for the prosecution of their studies. I knew that it sometimes would be necessary, and I was desirous to adopt this plan to save myself the constant interruption of hearing and replying to requests. But it would not do. Whenever, from time to time, I called them to account, I found that a large majority, according to their own confession, were in the habit of holding daily and deliberate communication with each other, on subjects entirely foreign to the business of the school. A more experienced teacher would have predicted this result; but I had very high ideas of the power of cultivated conscience; and in fact, still have. But then, like most other persons who become possessed of a good idea, I could not be satisfied without carrying it to an extreme.

Still it is necessary to give pupils, sometimes, the opportunity to whisper and leave seats. Cases occur where this is unavoidable. It cannot therefore be forbidden altogether. How then, you will ask, can the teacher regulate this practice, so as to prevent the evils which will otherwise flow from it, without being continually interrupted by the request for permission?

By a very simple method. Appropriate particular times at which all this business is to be done, and forbid it altogether at every other time. It is well on other accounts to give the pupils of a school a little respite, at least every hour; and if this is done, an intermission of study for two minutes each time, will be sufficient. During this time, general permission should be given to speak or to leave seats, provided they do nothing at such a time to disturb the studies of others. This has been my plan for two or three years, and no arrangement which I have ever made, has operated for so long a time, so uninterruptedly, and so entirely to my satisfaction as this. It of course will require some little time, and no little firmness, to establish the new order of things, where a school has been accustomed to another course; but where this is once done, I know no one plan so simple and so easily put into execution, which will do so much towards relieving the teacher of the distraction and perplexity of his pursuits.

In making the change, however, it is of fundamental importance that the pupils should themselves be interested in it. Their cooperation, or rather the cooperation of the majority, which it is very easy to obtain, is absolutely essential to success. I say this is very easily obtained. Let us suppose that some teacher, who has been accustomed to require his pupils to ask and obtain permission, every time they wish to speak to a companion, is induced by these remarks to introduce this plan. He says accordingly to his school:

"You know that you are now accustomed to ask me whenever you wish to obtain permission to whisper to a companion, or to leave your seats: now I have been thinking of a plan which will be better for both you and me. By our present plan, you are sometimes obliged to wait before I can attend to your request. Sometimes I think it is unnecessary, and deny you, when perhaps I was mistaken, and it was really necessary. At other times, I think it very probable, that when it is quite desirable for you to leave your seat, you do not ask, because you think you may not obtain permission, and you do not wish to ask and be refused. Do you, or not, experience these inconveniences from our present plans?"

The boys would undoubtedly answer in the affirmative.

"I experience great inconvenience, too. I am very frequently interrupted when busily engaged, and it also occupies a great portion of my time and attention. It requires as much mental effort to consider and decide sometimes whether I ought to allow a pupil to leave his seat, as it would to decide a much more important question; therefore I do not like our plan, and I have another to propose."

The boys are all attention to know what the new plan is. It will always be of great advantage to the school, for the teacher to propose his new plans from time to time to his pupils in such a way as this. It interests them in the improvement of the school, exercises their judgment, establishes a common feeling between teacher and pupil, and in many other ways will assist very much in promoting the welfare of the school.

"My plan," continues the teacher, "is this:—to allow you all, besides the recess, a short time, two or three minutes perhaps, every hour;" (or every half hour, according to the character of the school, the age of the pupils, or other circumstances, to be judged of by the teacher,) "during which you may all whisper or leave your seats, without asking permission."

Instead of deciding the question of the frequency of this general permission, the teacher may, if he pleases, leave it to the pupils to decide. It is often useful to leave the decision of such a question to them. On this subject, however, I shall speak in another place. It is only necessary, here, to say, that this point may be safely left to them, since the time is so small which is to be thus appropriated. Even if they vote to have the general permission to whisper every half hour, it will make but eight minutes in the forenoon. There being six half hours in the forenoon, and one of them ending at the close of school, and another at the recess, only four of these rests, as a military man would call them, would be necessary; and four, of two minutes each, would make eight minutes. If the teacher thinks that evil would result from the interruption of the studies so often, he may offer the pupils three minutes rest every hour, instead of two minutes every half hour, and let them take their choice; or he may decide the case altogether himself.

Such a change, from particular permission on individual requests to general permission at stated times, would unquestionably be popular in every school, if the teacher managed the business properly. And by presenting it as an object of common interest,—an arrangement proposed for the common convenience of teacher and pupils, the latter may be much interested in carrying the plan into effect. We must not rely, however, entirely upon their interest in it. All that we can expect from such an effort to interest them, as I have described and recommended, is to get a majority on our side, so that we may have only a small minority, to deal with by other measures. Still we must calculate on having this minority, and form our plans accordingly, or we shall be sadly disappointed. I shall, however, in another place, speak of this principle of interesting the pupils in our plans, for the purpose of securing a majority in our favor, and explain the methods by which the minority is then to be governed. I only mean here to say, that, by such means, the teacher may easily interest a large proportion of the scholars, in carrying his plans into effect, and that he must expect to be prepared with other measures, for those, who will not be governed by these.

You cannot reasonably expect however, that immediately after having explained your plan, it will, at once, go into full and complete operation. Even those who are firmly determined to keep the rule, will, from inadvertence, for a day or two, make communication with each other. They must be trained, not by threatening and punishment, but by your good-humored assistance, to their new duties. When I first adopted this plan in my school, something like the following proceedings took place.

"Do you suppose that you will perfectly keep this rule, from this time?"

"No sir," was the answer.

"I suppose you will not. Some, I am afraid, may not really be determined to keep it, and others will forget. Now I wish every one would keep an exact account to day, of all the instances of speaking and leaving seats, out of the regular times, and be prepared to report them at the close of the school. Of course, I shall have no punishment for it; but it will very much assist you to watch yourselves, if you expect to make a report at the end of the forenoon. Do you like this plan?"

"Yes sir," was the answer, and all seemed to enter into it with spirit.

In order to mark more definitely the times for communication I wrote, in large letters, on a piece of pasteboard, "Study Hours," and making a hole over the centre of it, I hung it upon a nail, over my desk. At the close of each half hour, a little bell was to be struck, and this card was to be taken down. When it was up, they were, on no occasion whatever, (except some such extraordinary occurrence as sickness, or my sending one of them on a message to another, or something clearly out of the common course,) to speak to each other; but were to wait, whatever they wanted, until the Study Card, as they called it, was taken down.

"Suppose now," said I, "that a young lady has come into school, and has accidentally left her book in the entry;—the book from which she is to study during the first half hour of the school: she sits near the door, and she might, in a moment, slip out and obtain it: if she does not, she must spend the half hour in idleness, and be unprepared in her lesson. What is it her duty to do?"

"To go;" "Not to go;" answered the scholars simultaneously.

"It would be her duty not to go; but I suppose it will be very difficult for me to convince you of it."

"The reason is this," I continued; "if the one case I have supposed, were the only one, which would be likely to occur, it would undoubtedly be better for her to go; but if it is understood that, in such cases, the rule may be dispensed with, there will be many others, where it will be equally necessary to lay it aside. Scholars will differ in regard to the degree of inconvenience, which they must submit to, rather than break the rule. They will gradually do it on slighter and slighter occasions, until at last the rule will be disregarded entirely. We must, therefore, draw a precise line, and individuals must submit to a little inconvenience, sometimes, to promote the general good."

At the close of the day, I requested all in the school to rise. While they were standing, I called them to account in the following manner.

"Now it is very probable that some have, from inadvertence, or from design, omitted to keep an account of the number of transgressions of the rule, which they have committed during the day; others, perhaps, do not wish to make a report of themselves. Now as this is a common and voluntary effort, I wish to have none render assistance, who do not, of their own accord, desire to do so; all those, therefore, who are not able to make a report, from not having been correct in keeping it, and all those who are unwilling to report themselves, may sit."

A very small number hesitatingly took their seats.

"I am afraid that all do not sit, who really wish not to report themselves. Now I am honest in saying I wish you to do just as you please. If a great majority of the school really wish to assist me in accomplishing the object, why, of course, I am glad; still, I shall not call upon any for such assistance, unless it is freely and voluntarily rendered."

One or two more took their seats while these things were saying. Among such, there would generally be some, who would refuse to have any thing to do with the measure, just from a desire to thwart and impede the plans of the teacher. If so, it is best to take no notice of them. If the teacher can contrive to obtain a great majority upon his side, so as to let them see that any opposition which they can raise, is of no consequence, and is not even noticed, they will soon be ashamed of it.

The reports then of those who remained standing, were called for; first, those who had whispered only once were requested to sit; then those who had whispered more than once, and less than five times, &c. &c., until at last all were down. In such a case, the pupils might, if thought expedient, again be requested to rise, for the purpose of asking some other questions, with reference to ascertaining whether they had spoken most in the former or latter part of the forenoon. The number who had spoken inadvertently, and the number who had done it by design, might be ascertained. These inquiries accustom the pupils to render honest and faithful accounts of themselves. They become, by such means, familiarized to the practice, and by means of it, the teacher can, many times, receive most important assistance.

CHAPTER III.
INSTRUCTION

There are three kinds of human knowledge which stand strikingly distinct from all the rest. They lie at the foundation. They constitute the roots of the tree. In other words, they are the means, by which all other knowledge is acquired. I need not say, that I mean, Reading, Writing, and Calculation.

Teachers do not perhaps always consider, how entirely and essentially distinct these three are from all the rest. They are arts; the acquisition of them is not to be considered as knowledge, so much as the means, by which knowledge may be obtained. A child, who is studying Geography, or History, or Natural Science, is learning facts,—gaining information; on the other hand, the one who is learning to write, or to read, or to calculate, may be adding little or nothing to his stock of knowledge. He is acquiring skill, which, at some future time, he may make the means of increasing his knowledge, to any extent.

This distinction ought to be kept constantly in view, and the teacher should feel that these three fundamental branches stand by themselves, and stand first in importance. I do not mean to undervalue the others, but only to insist upon the superior value and importance of these. Teaching a pupil to read, before he enters upon the active business of life, is like giving a new settler an axe, as he goes to seek his new home in the forest. Teaching him a lesson in history, is, on the other hand, only cutting down a tree or two for him. A knowledge of natural history, is like a few bushels of grain, gratuitously placed in his barn; but the art of ready reckoning, is the plough, which will remain by him for years, and help him to draw out from the soil an annual treasure.

The great object, then, of the common schools in our country, is to teach the whole population to read, to write, and to calculate. In fact, so essential is it, that the accomplishment of these objects should be secured, that it is even a question whether common schools should not be confined to them. I say it is a question, for it is sometimes made so, though public opinion has decided, that some portion of attention, at least, should be paid to the acquisition of additional knowledge. But after all, the amount of knowledge, which is actually acquired at schools, is very small. It must be very small. The true policy is, to aim at making all, good readers, writers, and calculators, and to consider the other studies of the school important, chiefly as practice, in turning these arts to useful account. In other words, the scholars should be taught these arts, thoroughly, first of all, and in the other studies, the main design should be to show them how to use, and interest them in using, the arts they have thus acquired.

A great many teachers feel a much stronger interest in the one or two scholars they may have, in Surveying, or in Latin, than they do in the large classes, in the elementary branches, which fill the school. But a moment's reflection will show, that such a preference is founded on a very mistaken view. Leading forward one or two minds, from step to step, in an advanced study, is certainly far inferior, in real dignity and importance, to opening all the stores of written knowledge, to fifty or a hundred. The man who neglects the interests of his school, in these great branches, to devote his time to two or three, or half a dozen older scholars, is unjust both to his employers and to himself.

It is the duty, therefore, of every teacher, who commences a common district school, for a single season, to make, when he commences, an estimate, of the state of his pupils, in reference to these three branches. How do they all write? How do they all read? How do they calculate? It would be well if he would make a careful examination of the school, in this respect. Let them all write a specimen. Let all read; and let him make a memorandum of the manner, noticing how many read fluently, how many with difficulty, how many know only their letters, and how many are to be taught these. Let him ascertain also, what progress they have made in Arithmetic,—how many can readily perform the elementary processes, and what number need instruction in these. After thus surveying the ground, let him form his plan, and lay out his whole strength in carrying forward, as rapidly as possible, the whole school, in these studies. By this means he is acting, most directly and powerfully, on the intelligence of the whole future community in that place. He is opening to fifty or a hundred minds, stores of knowledge, which they will go on exploring, for years to come. What a descent now from such a work as this, to the mere hearing of the recitation of half a dozen boys in Surveying!

I repeat it, that a thorough and enlightened survey of the whole school should be taken, and plans formed for elevating the whole mass, in those great branches of knowledge, which are to be of immediate practical use to them in future life.

If the school is of higher order, the teacher should, in the same manner, before he forms his plans, consider well what are the great objects which he has to accomplish. He should ascertain what is the existing state of his school, both as to knowledge and character;—how long, generally, his pupils are to remain under his care,—what are to be their future stations and conditions in life, and what objects he can reasonably hope to effect for them, while they remain under his influence. By means of this forethought, and consideration, he will be enabled to work understandingly.

It is desirable, too, that what I have recommended, in reference to the whole school, should be done with each individual. Ascertain, (by other means however than formal examination,) to what stage his education has advanced, and deliberately consider what objects you can reasonably expect to effect for him, while he remains under your care. You cannot indeed always form your plans to suit, so exactly, your general views in regard to the school and to individuals, as you could wish. But these general views will, in a thousand cases, modify your plans, or affect in a greater or less degree, all your arrangements. They will keep you to a steady purpose, and your work will go on far more systematically and regularly, than it would, if, as in fact many teachers do, you were to come headlong into your school, take things just as you find them, and carry them forward at random, without end or aim.

This survey of your field being made, you are prepared to commence definite operations, and the great difficulty, in carrying your plans into effect, is, how to act more efficiently on the greatest numbers at a time. The whole business of public instruction, if it goes on at all, must go on by the teacher's skill in multiplying his power, by acting on numbers at once. In most books on education, we are taught, almost exclusively, how to operate on the individual. It is the error into which theoretic writers almost always fall. We meet, in every periodical, and in every treatise, and in fact, in almost every conversation on the subject, with remarks, which sound very well by the fire-side, but they are totally inefficient and useless in school, from their being apparently based upon the supposition, that the teacher has but one pupil to attend to at a time. The great question in the management of schools, is not, how you can take one scholar, and lead him forward, most rapidly, in a prescribed course, but how you can classify and arrange numbers, comprising every possible variety, both as to knowledge and capacity, so as to carry them all forward effectually together.

The extent to which a teacher may multiply his power, by acting on numbers at a time, is very great. In order to estimate it, we must consider carefully what it is, when carried to the greatest extent, to which it is capable of being carried, under the most favorable circumstances. Now it is possible for a teacher to speak so as to be easily heard by three hundred persons, and three hundred pupils can be easily so seated, as to see his illustrations or diagrams. Now suppose that three hundred pupils, all ignorant of the method of reducing fractions to a common denominator, and yet all old enough to learn, are collected in one room. Suppose they are all attentive and desirous of learning, it is very plain that the process may be explained to the whole at once, so that half an hour spent in that exercise, would enable a very large proportion of them to understand the subject. So, if a teacher is explaining to a class in Grammar, the difference between a noun and verb, the explanation would do as well for several hundred, as for the dozen who constitute the class, if arrangements could only be made to have the hundreds hear it. But there are, perhaps, only a hundred in the school, and of these a large part understand already the point to be explained, and another large part are too young to attend to it. I wish the object of these remarks not to be misunderstood. I do not recommend the attempt to teach on so extensive a scale; I admit that it is impracticable; I only mean to show in what the impracticability consists, namely, in the difficulty of making such arrangements as to derive the full benefit from the instructions rendered. They are, in the nature of things, available to the extent I have represented, but, in actual practice, the full benefit cannot be derived. Now, so far as we thus fall short of this full benefit, so far there is, of course, waste; and it is difficult or impossible to make such arrangements as will avoid the waste, in this manner, of a large portion of every effort, which the teacher makes.

A very small class instructed by an able teacher, is like a factory of a hundred spindles, with a water-wheel of power sufficient for a thousand. In such a case, even if the owner, from want of capital, or any other cause, cannot add the other nine hundred, he ought to know how much of his power is in fact unemployed, and make arrangements to bring it into useful exercise, as soon as he can. The teacher in the same manner, should understand what is the full beneficial effect, which it is possible, in theory, to derive from his instructions. He should understand, too, that just so far as he falls short of this full effect, there is waste. It may be unavoidable; part of it unquestionably is, like the friction of machinery, unavoidable. Still, it is waste; and it ought to be so understood, that by the gradual perfection of the machinery, it may be more and more fully prevented.

Always bear in mind then, when you are devoting your time to two or three individuals in a class, that you are losing a very large part of your labor. Your instructions are conducive to good effect, only to the one tenth or one twentieth of the extent, to which, under more favorable circumstances, they might be made available. And though you cannot always avoid this loss, you ought always to be aware of it, and so to shape your measures, as to diminish it as much as possible.

We come now to consider the particular measures to be adopted, in giving instruction.

The objects which are to be secured, in the management of classes, are twofold,

1. Recitation.

2. Instruction.

These two objects are, it is plain, entirely distinct. Under the latter, is included all the explanation, and assistance, and additional information, which the teacher may give his pupils, and, under the former, such an examination of individuals, as is necessary to secure their careful attention to their lessons. It is unsafe to neglect either of these points. If the class meetings are mere recitations, they soon become dull and mechanical: the pupils generally take little interest in their studies, and imbibe no literary spirit. Their intellectual progress will, accordingly, suddenly cease, the moment they leave school, and cease to be called upon to recite lessons. On the other hand, if instruction is all that is aimed at, and recitation, (by which I mean, as above explained, such an examination of individuals as is necessary to ascertain that they have faithfully performed the tasks assigned,) is neglected, the exercise soon becomes not much more than a lecture, to which those, and those only, will attend, who please.

The business, therefore, of a thorough examination of the class must not be omitted. I do not mean, that each individual scholar must, every day, be examined; but simply that the teacher must, in some way or other, satisfy himself, by reasonable evidence, that the whole class are really prepared. A great deal of ingenuity may be exercised, in contriving means for effecting this object, in the shortest possible time. I know of no part of the field of a teacher's labors, which may be more facilitated, by a little ingenuity, than this.

One teacher, for instance, has a spelling lesson to hear. He begins at the head of the line, and putting one word to each boy, goes regularly down, each successive pupil calculating the chances whether a word, which he can accidentally spell, will or will not come to him. If he spells it, the teacher cannot tell whether he is prepared or not. That word is only one among fifty, constituting the lesson. If he misses it, the teacher cannot decide that he was unprepared. It might have been a single accidental error.

Another teacher, hearing the same lesson, requests the boys to bring their slates, and as he dictates the words, one after another, requires all to write them. After they are all written, he calls upon the pupils to spell them aloud as they have written them, simultaneously, pausing a moment after each, to give those who are wrong, an opportunity to indicate it, by some mark opposite the word misspelled. They all count the number of errors and report them. He passes down the class, glancing his eye at the work of each one, to see that all is right, noticing particularly those slates, which, from the character of the boys, need a more careful inspection. A teacher, who had never tried this experiment, would be surprised at the rapidity with which such work will be done by a class, after a little practice.

Now how different are these two methods, in their actual results! In the latter case, the whole class are thoroughly examined. In the former, not a single member of it, is. Let me not be understood to recommend exactly this method of teaching spelling, as the best one to be adopted, in all cases. I only bring it forward as an illustration of the idea, that a little machinery, a little ingenuity, in contriving ways of acting on the whole, rather than on individuals, will very much promote the teacher's designs.

In order to facilitate such plans, it is highly desirable that the classes should be trained to military precision and exactness in these manipulations. What I mean by this, may perhaps be best illustrated, by describing a case: it will show, in another branch, how much will be gained by acting upon numbers at once, instead of upon each individual in succession.

Imagine, then, that a teacher requested all the pupils of his school, who could write, to take out their slates, at the hour for a general exercise. As soon as the first bustle of opening and shutting the desks was over, he looked around the room, and saw some ruling lines across their slates, others wiping them all over on both sides, with sponges, others scribbling, or writing, or making figures.

"All those," says he, with a pleasant tone and look, "who have taken out any thing besides slates, may rise."

Several, in various parts of the room, stood up.

"All those, who have written any thing since they took out their slates, may rise too, and those who have wiped their slates."

When all were up, he said to them, though not with a frown or a scowl, as if they had committed some very great offence;

"Suppose a company of soldiers should be ordered to form a line, and instead of simply obeying that order, they should all set at work, each in his own way, doing something else. One man, at one end of the line, begins to load and fire his gun; another takes out his knapsack, and begins to eat his luncheon; a third amuses himself by going as fast as possible through the exercise; and another still, begins to march about, hither and thither, facing to the right and left, and performing all the evolutions he can think of. What should you say to such a company as that?"

The boys laughed.

"It is better," said the teacher, "when numbers are acting under the direction of one, that they should all act exactly together. In this way, we advance much faster, than we otherwise should. Be careful therefore to do exactly what I command, and nothing more."

"Provide a place, on your slates, large enough to write a single line," added the teacher, in a distinct voice. I print his orders in italics, and his remarks and explanations in Roman letter.

"Prepare to write."

"I mean by this," he continued, "that you place your slates before you, with your pencils at the place where you are to begin, so that all may commence precisely at the same instant."

The teacher who tries such an experiment as this, will find, at such a juncture, an expression of fixed and pleased attention upon every countenance in school. All will be intent; all will be interested. Boys love order and system, and acting in concert; and they will obey, with great alacrity, such commands as these, if they are good-humoredly, though decidedly expressed.

The teacher observed in one part of the room, a hand raised, indicating that the boy wished to speak to him. He gave him liberty by pronouncing his name.

"I have no pencil;" said the boy.

A dozen hands, all around him, were immediately seen fumbling in pockets and desks, and, in a few minutes, several pencils were reached out for his acceptance.

The boy looked at the pencils, and then at the teacher; he did not exactly know, whether he was to take one or not.

"All those boys," said the teacher, pleasantly, "who have taken out pencils, may rise."

"Have these boys done right, or wrong?"

"Right;" "Wrong;" "Right;" answered their companions, variously.

"Their motive was to help their classmate out of his difficulties; that is a good feeling, certainly."

"Yes sir; right;" "Right."

"But I thought you promised me a moment ago," replied the teacher, "not to do any thing, unless I commanded it. Did I ask for pencils?"

A pause.

"I do not blame these boys at all, in this case, still it is better to adhere rigidly to the principle, of exact obedience, when numbers are acting together. I thank them, therefore, for being so ready to assist a companion, but they must put their pencils away, as they were taken out without orders."

Now such a dialogue as this, if the teacher speaks in a good-humored, though decided manner, would be universally well received, in any school. Whenever strictness of discipline is unpopular, it is rendered so, simply by the ill-humored and ill-judged means, by which it is attempted to be introduced. But all children will love strict discipline, if it is pleasantly, though firmly maintained. It is a great, though very prevalent mistake, to imagine, that boys and girls like a lax and inefficient government, and dislike the pressure of steady control. What they dislike is, sour looks and irritating language, and they therefore very naturally dislike every thing introduced or sustained by their means. If, however, exactness and precision in all the operations of a class and of the school, are introduced and enforced, in the proper manner, i. e., by a firm, but mild and good-humored authority, scholars will universally be pleased with them. They like to see the uniform appearance,—the straight line,—the simultaneous movement. They like to feel the operation of system, and to realize, while they are at the school room, that they form a community, governed by fixed and steady laws, firmly but pleasantly administered. On the other hand, laxity of discipline, and the disorder which will result from it, will only lead the pupils to contemn their teacher, and to hate their school.

By introducing and maintaining such a discipline as I have described, great facilities will be secured for examining the classes. For example, to take a case different from the one before described; let us suppose that a class have been performing a number of examples in Addition. They come together to the recitation, and under one mode of managing classes, the teacher is immediately beset, by a number of the pupils, with excuses. One had no slate; another was absent when the lesson was assigned; a third performed the work, but it got rubbed out; and a fourth did not know what was to be done. The teacher stops to hear all these, and to talk about them; fretted himself, and fretting the delinquents by his impatient remarks. The rest of the class are waiting, and having nothing good to do, the temptation is almost irresistible to do something bad. One boy is drawing pictures on his slate, to make his neighbors laugh; another is whispering, and two more are at play. The disorder continues, while the teacher goes round examining slate after slate, his whole attention being engrossed by each individual, as the pupils come to him successively, while the rest are left to themselves, interrupted only by an occasional harsh or even angry, but utterly useless rebuke from him.

But under another mode of managing classes and schools, a very different result would be produced.

A boy approaches the teacher to render an excuse, the teacher replies, addressing himself, however, to the whole class, "I shall give all an opportunity to offer their excuses presently. No one must come till he is called."

The class then regularly take their places in the recitation seats; the prepared and unprepared together. The following commands are given and obeyed, promptly. They are spoken pleasantly, but still in the tone of command.

"The class may rise."

"All those, that are not fully prepared with this lesson, may sit."

A number sit, and others, doubtful whether they are prepared or not, or thinking that there is something peculiar in their cases, which they wish to state, raise their hands, or make any other signal which is customary to indicate a wish to speak. Such a signal ought always to be agreed upon, and understood in school.

The teacher shakes his head; saying "I will hear you presently. If there is, on any account whatever, any doubt whether you are prepared, you must sit."

"Those that are standing may read their answers, to No. 1. Unit figure?"

Boys. "Five."

Teacher. "Tens?"

B. "Six."

T. "Hundreds?"

B. "Seven."

While these numbers are thus reading, the teacher looks at the boys, and can easily see whether any are not reading their own answers, but only following the rest. If they have been trained to speak exactly together, his ear will also at once detect any erroneous answer, which any one may give. He takes down the figures given by the majority, on his own slate, and reads them aloud.

"This is the answer obtained by the majority: it is, undoubtedly right. Those, who have different answers may sit."

These directions, if understood and obeyed, would divide the class evidently into two portions. Those standing, have their work done, and done correctly, and those sitting, have some excuse or error to be examined. A new lesson may now be assigned, and the first portion may be dismissed; which, in a well regulated school, will be two-thirds of the class. Their slates may be slightly examined, as they pass by the teacher, on their way to their seats, to see that all is fair; but it will be safe to take it for granted, that a result, in which a majority agree, will be right. Truth is consistent with itself, but error, in such a case, never is. This, the teacher can, at any time, show, by comparing the answers that are wrong; they will always be found, not only to differ from the correct result, but to contradict each other.

The teacher may now, if be pleases, after the majority of the class have gone, hear the reasons of those who were unprepared, and look for the errors of those whose work was incorrect; but it is better to spend as little time as possible, in such a way. If a scholar is not prepared, it is not of much consequence, whether it is because he forgot his book, or mistook the lesson; or if it is ascertained that his answer is incorrect, it is, ordinarily, a mere waste of time, to search for the particular error.

"I have looked over my work, sir," says the boy, perhaps, "and I cannot find where it is wrong." He means by it, that he does not believe that it is wrong.

"It is no matter if you cannot," would be the proper reply, "since it certainly is wrong; you have made a mistake in adding, somewhere, but it is not worth while for me to spend two or three minutes apiece with all of you, to ascertain where. Try to be careful next time."

The cases of those who are unprepared at a recitation, ought, by no means, to be passed by, unnoticed, although it would be unwise to spend much time in examining each, in detail.

"It is not of much consequence," the teacher might say, "whether you have good excuses, or bad, so long as you are not prepared. In future life, you will certainly be unsuccessful, if you fail, no matter for what reason, to discharge the duties which devolve upon you. A carpenter, for instance, would certainly lose his work, if he should not perform it faithfully, and in season. Excuses, no matter how reasonable, will do him little good. So in this school. I want good recitations, not good excuses. I hope every one will be prepared to-morrow."

It is not probable, however, that every one would be prepared the next day, in such a case; but, by acting steadily on these principles, the number of delinquencies would be so much diminished, that the very few which should be left, could easily be examined in detail, and the remedies applied.

Simultaneous recitation, by which I mean the practice of addressing a question to all the class, to be answered by all together, is a practice, which has been for some years rapidly extending in our schools, and, if adopted with proper limits and restrictions, is attended with great advantage. The teacher must guard against some dangers, however, which will be likely to attend it.

1. Some will answer very eagerly, instantly after the question is completed. They wish to show their superior readiness. Let the teacher mention this, expose, kindly, the motive which leads to it, and tell them it is as irregular to answer before the rest, as after them.

2. Some will defer their answers, until they can catch those of their comrades, for a guide. Let the teacher mention this fault, expose the motive which leads to it, and tell them that, if they do not answer independently, and at once, they had better not answer at all.

3. Some will not answer at all. The teacher can tell by looking around the class who do not, for they cannot counterfeit the proper motion of the lips, with promptness and decision, unless they know what the answer is to be. He ought occasionally to say to such an one, "I perceive you do not answer;" and ask him questions individually.

4. In some cases, there is danger of confusion in the answers, from the fact that the question may be of such a nature, that the answer is long, and may, by different individuals, be differently expressed. This evil must be guarded against, by so shaping the question, as to admit of a reply in a single word. In reading large numbers, for example, each figure may be called for by itself, or they may be given one after another, the pupils keeping exact time. When it is desirable to ask a question to which the answer is necessarily long, it may be addressed to an individual, or the whole class may write their replies, which may then be read in succession.

In a great many cases where simultaneous answering is practised, after a short time, the evils above specified are allowed to grow, until at last some half dozen bright members of a class answer for all, the rest dragging after them, echoing their replies, or ceasing to take any interest in an exercise, which brings no personal and individual responsibility upon them. To prevent this the teacher should exercise double vigilance, at such a time. He should often address questions to individuals alone, especially to those most likely to be inattentive and careless, and guard against the ingress of every abuse, which might, without close vigilance, appear.

With these cautions, the method here alluded to will be found to be of very great advantage in many studies; for example, all the arithmetical tables may be recited in this way; words may be spelled, answers to sums given; columns of figures added, or numbers multiplied; and many questions in History, Geography, and other miscellaneous studies, answered, especially the general questions asked for the purpose of a review.

But besides being useful as a mode of examination, this plan of answering questions simultaneously, is a very important means of fixing in the mind, any facts, which the teacher may communicate to his pupils. If, for instance, he says some day to a class, that Vasco de Gama was the discoverer of the passage round the Cape of Good Hope, and leaves it here, in a few days, not one in twenty, will recollect the name. But let him call upon them all to spell it, simultaneously, and then to pronounce it distinctly, three or four times in concert, and the word will be very strongly impressed upon the mind. The reflecting teacher will find a thousand cases, in the instruction of his classes, and in his general exercises, in the school, in which this principle will be of great utility. It is universal in its application. What we say, we fix by the very act of saying it, in the mind. Hence reading aloud, though a slower, is a far more thorough method, than reading silently; and it is better, in almost all cases, whether in the family, or in sabbath, or common schools, when general instructions are given, to have the leading points fixed in the mind, by questions, answered simultaneously.

CHAPTER IV.
MORAL DISCIPLINE

Under the title which I have placed at the head of this chapter, I intend to discuss the methods by which the teacher is to secure a moral ascendency over his pupils, so that he may lead them to do what is right, and bring them back to duty, when they do what is wrong. I shall use, in what I have to say, a very plain and familiar style; and as very much depends, not only on the general principles by which the teacher is actuated, but also on the tone and manner in which, in cases of discipline, he addresses his pupils, I shall describe particular cases, real and imaginary, because by this method, I can better illustrate the course to be pursued. I shall also present and illustrate the various principles which I consider important, and in the order in which they occur to my mind.

1. The first duty then, of the teacher, when he enters his school, is, to beware of the danger of making an unfavorable impression, at first, upon his pupils. Many years ago, when I was a child, the teacher of the school where my early studies were performed, closed his connexion with the establishment, and, after a short vacation, another was expected. On the appointed day, the boys began to collect, some from curiosity, at an early hour, and many speculations were started, as to the character of the new instructer. We were standing near a table, with our hats on,—and our position, and the exact appearance of the group is indelibly fixed on my memory,—when a small and youthful looking man, entered the room, and walked up towards us. Supposing him to be some stranger, or rather, not making any supposition at all, we stood looking at him as he approached, and were thunder-struck at hearing him accost us with a stern voice and sterner brow, "Take off your hats. Take off your hats, and go to your seats." The conviction immediately rushed upon our minds, that this must be our new teacher. The first emotion was that of surprise, and the second was that of the ludicrous; though I believe we contrived to smother the laugh, until we got out into the open air.

So long since was this little occurrence, that I have entirely forgotten the name of the teacher, and have not the slightest recollection of any other act in his administration of the school. But this recollection of his first greeting of his pupils, and the expression of his countenance at the moment, will go with me to the end of life. So strong are first impressions.

Be careful, then, when you first see your pupils, that you meet them with a smile. I do not mean a pretended cordiality, which has no existence in the heart, but think of the relation, which you are to sustain to them, and think of the very interesting circumstances, under which, for some months at least, your destinies are to be united to theirs, until you cannot help feeling a strong interest in them. Shut your eyes, for a day or two, to their faults, if possible, and take an interest in all their pleasures and pursuits, that the first attitude, in which you exhibit yourself before them, may be one, which shall allure, not repel.

2. In endeavoring to correct the faults of your pupils, do not, as many teachers do, seize only upon those particular cases of transgression, which may happen to come under your notice. These individual instances are very few, probably, compared with the whole number of faults, against which you ought to exert an influence. And though you perhaps ought not to neglect those, which may accidentally come under your notice, yet the observing and punishing such cases, is a very small part of your duty.

You accidentally hear, I will suppose, as you are walking home from school, two of your boys in earnest conversation, and one of them uses profane language. Now, the course to be pursued in such a case, is most evidently, not to call the boy to you, the next day, and punish him, and there let the matter rest. This would perhaps be better than nothing. But the chief impression which it would make upon the individual, and upon the other scholars, would be, "I must take care how I let the master hear me use such language again." A wise teacher, who takes enlarged and extended views of his duty, in regard to the moral progress of his pupils, would act very differently. He would look at the whole subject. "Does this fault," he would say to himself, "prevail among my pupils? If so, how extensively?" It is comparatively of little consequence to punish the particular transgression. The great point is, to devise some plan to reach the whole evil, and to correct it, if possible.

In one case, where such a circumstance occurred, the teacher managed it most successfully, in the following way.

He said nothing to the boy, and in fact, the boy did not know that he was overheard. He allowed a day or two to elapse, so that the conversation might be forgotten, and then took an opportunity, one day, after school, when all things had gone on pleasantly, and the school was about to be closed, to bring forward the whole subject. He told the boys that he had something to say to them, after they had laid by their books, and were ready to go. The desks were soon closed, and every face in the room was turned towards the master, with a look of fixed attention. It was almost evening. The sun had gone down. The boys' labors were over. The day was done, and their minds were at rest, and every thing was favorable for making a deep and permanent impression.

"A few days ago," says the teacher, when all was still, "I accidentally overheard some conversation between two of the boys of this school, and one of them swore."

There was a pause.

"Perhaps you expect that I am now going to call the boy out, and punish him. Is that what I ought to do?"

There was no answer.

"I think a boy who uses bad language of any kind, does what he knows is wrong. He breaks God's commands. He does what he knows would be displeasing to his parents, and he sets a bad example. He does wrong, therefore, and justly deserves punishment."

There were, of course, many boys, who felt that they were in danger. Every one, who had used profane language, was aware that he might be the one, who had been overheard, and, of course, all were deeply interested in what the teacher was saying.

"He might, I say," continued the teacher, "justly be punished, but I am not going to punish him; for if I should, I am afraid that it would only make him a little more careful hereafter, not to commit this sin when I could possibly be within hearing, instead of persuading him, as I wish to, to avoid such a sin, in future, altogether. I am satisfied that that boy would be far happier, even in this world, if he would make it a principle always to do his duty, and never, in any case, to do wrong. And then when I think how soon he, and all of us will be in another world, where we shall all be judged for what we do here, I feel strongly desirous of persuading him to abandon entirely this practice. I am afraid that punishing him now, would not do that."

"Besides," continues the teacher, "I think it very probable that there are many other boys in this school, who are sometimes guilty of this fault, and I have thought that it would be a great deal better and happier for us all, if, instead of punishing this particular boy, whom I have accidentally overheard, and who probably is not more to blame than many other boys in school, I should bring up the whole subject, and endeavor to persuade all to reform."

I am aware that there are, unfortunately, in our country, a great many teachers, from whose lips, such an appeal as this, would be wholly in vain. The man who is accustomed to scold, and storm, and punish, with unsparing severity, every transgression, under the influence of irritation and anger, must not expect that he can win over his pupils to confidence in him, and to the principles of duty, by a word. But such an appeal will not be lost, when it comes from a man, whose daily and habitual management corresponds with it. But to return to the story:

The teacher made some farther remarks, explaining the nature of the sin, not in the language of execration, and affected abhorrence, but calmly, temperately, and without any disposition to make the worst of the occurrence which had taken place. In concluding what he said, he addressed the boys as follows:

"Now boys, the question is, do you wish to abandon this habit, or not; if you do, all is well. I shall immediately forget all the past, and will do all I can to help you resist and overcome temptation in future. But all I can do, is, only to help you; and the first thing to be done, if you wish to engage in this work of reform, is, to acknowledge your fault; and I should like to know how many are willing to do this."

"I wish all those who are willing to tell me whether they use profane language, would rise."

Every individual but one, rose.

"I am very glad to see so large a number," said the teacher; "and I hope you will find that the work of confessing and forsaking your faults, is, on the whole, pleasant, not painful business. Now those who can truly and honestly say, that they never do use profane language, of any kind, may take their seats."

Three only, of the whole number, which consisted of not far from 20, sat down. It was in a sea-port town, where the temptation to yield to this vice is even greater, than would be, in the interior of our country, supposed possible.

"Those who are now standing," pursued the teacher, "admit that they do, sometimes at least, commit this sin. I suppose all, however, are determined to reform; for I do not know what else should induce you to rise and acknowledge it here, unless it is a desire, hereafter to break yourselves of the habit. But do you suppose that it will be enough for you merely to resolve here, that you will reform?"

"No sir," said the boys.

"Why? If you now sincerely determine never more to use a profane word, will you not easily avoid it?"

The boys were silent. Some said faintly, "No sir."

"It will not be easy for you to avoid the sin hereafter," continued the teacher, "even if you do now, sincerely and resolutely, determine to do so. You have formed the habit of sin, and the habit will not be easily overcome. But I have detained you long enough now. I will try to devise some method, by which you may carry your plan into effect, and to-morrow I wilt tell you what it is."

So they were dismissed for the day. The pleasant countenance and cheerful tone of the teacher conveying to them the impression, that they were engaging in the common effort to accomplish a most desirable purpose, in which they were to receive the teacher's help; not that he was pursuing them, with threatening and punishment, into the forbidden practice into which they had wickedly strayed. Great caution is however, in such a case, necessary, to guard against the danger, that the teacher, in attempting to avoid the tones of irritation and anger, should so speak of the sin, as to blunt their sense of its guilt, and lull their consciences into a slumber.

At the appointed time, on the following day, the subject was again brought before the school, and some plans proposed, by which the resolutions now formed, might be more certainly kept. These plans were readily and cheerfully adopted by the boys, and in a short time, the vice of profaneness was, in a great degree, banished from the school. This whole account is substantially fact.

I hope the reader will keep in mind the object of the above illustration, which is to show, that it is the true policy of the teacher, not to waste his time and strength, in contending against such accidental instances of transgression, as may chance to fall under his notice, but to take an enlarged and extended view of the whole ground, endeavoring to remove whole classes of faults,—to elevate and improve multitudes, together.

By these means, his labors will not only be more effectual, but far more pleasant. You cannot come into collision with an individual scholar, to punish him for a mischievous spirit, or even to rebuke him for some single act, by which he has given you trouble, without an uncomfortable and uneasy feeling, which makes, in ordinary cases, the discipline of a school, the most unpleasant part of a teacher's duty. But you can plan a campaign against a whole class of faults, and put into operation a system of measures to correct them, and watch from day to day the operation of that system, with all the spirit and interest of a game. It is in fact a game, where your ingenuity and moral power are brought into the field, in opposition to the evil tendencies of the hearts which are under your influence. You will notice the success or the failure of the means you may put into operation, with all the interest with which the experimental philosopher observes the curious processes he guides; though your interest may be much purer and higher; for he works upon matter, but you are experimenting upon mind.

Remember then, as, for the first time you take your new station, that it is not your duty, simply to watch with an eagle eye for those accidental instances of transgression, which may chance to fall under your notice; you are to look over the whole ground; you are to make yourself acquainted, as soon as possible, with the classes of character, and classes of faults, which may prevail in your dominions, and to form deliberate and well digested plans, for improving the one and correcting the other.

And this is to be the course pursued, not only with great delinquencies, such as those to which I have already alluded, but to every little transgression against the rules of order and propriety. You can correct them far more easily and pleasantly in the mass, than in detail.

To illustrate this principle by another case. A teacher, who takes the course I am condemning, approaches the seat of one of his pupils, and asks to see one of his books. As the boy opens his desk, the teacher observes that it is in complete disorder. Books, maps, papers, playthings, are there in promiscuous confusion; and from the impulse of the moment, the displeased teacher pours out upon the poor boy a torrent of reproach.

"What a looking desk! Why, John! I am really ashamed of you. Look," continues he, holding up the lid, so that the boys in the neighborhood can look in; "see what a mass of disorder and confusion. If ever I see your desk in such a state again, I shall most certainly punish you."

The boys around laugh; very equivocally, however, for with the feeling of amusement, there is mingled the fear that the angry master may take it into his head to inspect their dominions. The boy accidentally exposed, looks sullen, and begins to throw his books into some sort of arrangement, just enough to shield himself from the charge of absolutely disobeying, and there the matter ends.

Another teacher takes no apparent notice of the confusion he thus accidentally witnesses. "I must take up," thinks he to himself, "the subject of order, before the whole school. I have not yet spoken of it." He thanks the boy for the book he borrowed, and goes away. He makes a memorandum of the subject, and the boy does not know that the condition of his desk was noticed; perhaps he does not even know that there was any thing amiss.

A day or two after, at a time regularly appropriated to such subjects, he addresses the boys as follows:

"In our efforts to improve the school as much as possible, there is one subject, which we must not forget. I mean the order of the desks."

The boys all begin to open their desk lids.

"You may stop a moment," says the teacher. "I shall give you all an opportunity to examine your desks presently."

"I do not know what the condition of your desks is. I have not examined them, and have not, in fact, seen the inside of more than one or two. As I have not brought up this subject before, I presume that there are a great many, which can be arranged better than they are. Will you all now look into your desks, and see whether you consider them in good order. Stop a moment however. Let me tell you what good order is. All those things which are alike, should be arranged together. Books should be in one place, papers in another, and thus every thing should be classified. Again, every thing should be so placed that it can be taken out without disturbing other things. There is another principle also, which I will mention, the various articles should have constant places,—that is, they should not be changed from day to day. By this means, you soon remember where every thing belongs, and you can put away your things much more easily every night, than if you had every night to arrange them in a new way. Now will you look into your desks, and tell me whether they are, on these three principles, well arranged."

The boys of most schools, where this subject had not been regularly attended to, would nearly all answer in the negative.

"I will allow you then, some time to-day, fifteen minutes to arrange them, and I hope you will try to keep them in good order hereafter. A few days hence, I shall examine them. If any of you wish for assistance or advice from me, in putting them in order, I shall be happy to render it."

By such a plan, which will occupy but little more time than the irritating and useless scolding, which I supposed in the other case, how much more will be accomplished. Such an address would, of itself, probably, be the means of putting in order, and keeping in order, at least one half; and following up the plan in the same manner, and in the same spirit, with which it was begun, would secure the rest.

I repeat it, therefore, make it a principle in all cases, to aim as much as possible at the correction of those faults which are likely to be general, by general measures. You avoid by this means, a vast amount of irritation and impatience, both on your own part, and on the part of your scholars, and you produce at least twenty times the useful effect.

3. The next principle which occurs to me, as deserving the teacher's attention in the outset of his course, is this:

Interest your scholars in doing something themselves to elevate the moral character of the school, so as to secure a decided majority, who will, of their own accord, co-operate with you.

Let your pupils understand, not by any formal speech you make to that effect, but by the manner in which, from time to time, you incidentally allude to the subject, that you consider the school, when you commence it, as at par, so to speak,—that is, on a level with other schools, and that your various plans for improving and amending it, are not to be considered in the light of finding fault, and punishing transgressions, and controlling evil propensities, so as just to keep things in a tolerable state; but as efforts to improve and carry forward, to a state of excellence not yet attained, all the affairs of the institution. Such is the tone and manner of some teachers, that they never appear to be more than merely satisfied. When the scholars do right, nothing is said about it. The teacher seems to consider that a matter of course. It does not appear to interest or please him at all. Nothing arouses him, but when they do wrong, and that only excites him to anger and frowns. Now, in such a case, there can of course be no stimulus to effort on the part of the pupils, but the cold and heartless stimulus of fear.

Now, it is wrong for the teacher to expect that things will go right in his school, as a matter of course. All that he can expect, as a matter of course, is, that things should go on as well as they do ordinarily in schools,—the ordinary amount of idleness,—the ordinary amount of misconduct. This is the most that he can expect to come as a matter of course; he should feel this, and then, all he can gain which will be better than this, will be a source of positive pleasure; a pleasure which his pupils have procured for him, and which consequently they should share. They should understand that the teacher is engaged in various plans for improving the school, in which they should be invited to engage, not from the selfish desire of thereby saving him trouble, but because it will really be happy employment for them to engage in such an enterprise, and because, by such efforts, their own moral powers will be exerted and strengthened in the best possible way.

In another chapter, I have explained to what extent, and in what manner, the assistance of the pupils may be usefully and successfully employed, in carrying forward the general arrangements of the school. The same principles will apply here, though perhaps a little more careful and delicate management is necessary, in interesting them in subjects which relate to moral discipline.

One important method of doing this, is, to present these plans before the minds of the scholars, as experiments,—moral experiments, whose commencement, progress, and results, they may take a great interest in witnessing. Let us take, for example, the case alluded to under the last head,—the plan of effecting a reform in regard to keeping desks in order. Suppose the teacher were to say, when the time had arrived, at which he had promised to give them an opportunity to put them in order,

"I think it would be a good plan to keep some account of our efforts for improving the school in this respect. We might make a record of what we do to-day, noting the day of the month, and the number of desks which may be found to be disorderly. Then at the end of any time you may propose, we will have the desks examined again, and see how many are disorderly. We can then see how much improvement has been made, in that time. Should you like to adopt the plan?"

If the boys should appear not much interested in the proposal, the teacher might, at his own discretion, waive it. In all probability, however, they would like it, and would indicate their interest by their countenances, or perhaps by a response. If so, the teacher might proceed.

"You may all examine your desks then, and decide whether they are in order, or not. I do not know, however, but that we ought to appoint a committee to examine them; for perhaps all the boys would not be honest, and report their desks as they really are."

"Yes sir;" "Yes sir;" say the boys.

"Do you mean that you will be honest, or that you would like to have a committee appointed?"

There was a confused murmur. Some answer one, and some the other.

"I think," proceeds the teacher, "the boys will be honest, and report their desks just as they are. At any rate, the number of dishonest boys in this school, cannot be so large as materially to affect the result. I think we had better take your own statements. As soon as the desks are all examined, those who have found theirs in a condition which does not satisfy them, are requested to rise and be counted."

The teacher then looks around the room, and selecting some intelligent boy who has influence among his companions, and whose influence he is particularly desirous of enlisting on the side of good order, says, "Shall I nominate some one to keep an account of this plan?"

"Yes sir," say the boys.

"Well, I nominate William Jones. How many are in favor of requesting William Jones to perform this duty?"

"It is a vote. William, I will thank you to write upon a piece of paper, that on the 8th of December, the subject of order in the desks was brought up, and that the boys resolved on making an effort to improve the school in this respect. Then say, that the boys reported all their desks which they thought were disorderly, and that the number was 35; and that after a week or two, the desks are to be examined again, and the disorderly ones counted, that we may see how much we have improved. After you have written it, you may bring it to me, and I will: tell you whether it is right."

"How many desks do you think will be found to be disorderly, when we come to make the examination?"

The boys hesitate.

The teacher names successively several numbers, and asks, whether they think the real number will be greater or less. He notices their votes upon them, and at last fixes upon one, which seems to be about the general sense of the school. Then the teacher, himself mentions the number, which he supposes will be found to be disorderly. His estimate will ordinarily be larger than that of the scholars; because he knows better how easily resolutions are broken. This number too, is recorded, and then the whole subject is dismissed.

Now, of course, no reader of these remarks, will understand me to be recommending, by this imaginary dialogue, (for the whole of it is imaginary,) a particular course to be taken in regard to this subject, far less the particular language to be used. All I mean is, to show by a familiar illustration, how the teacher is to endeavor to enlist the interest, and to excite the curiosity of his pupils, in his plans for the improvement of his school, by presenting them as moral experiments, which they are to assist him in trying,—experiments, whose progress they are to watch, and whose results they are to predict. If the precise steps which I have described, should actually be taken, although it would occupy but a few minutes, and would cause no thought, and no perplexing care, yet it would undoubtedly be the means of awakening a very general interest in the subject of order, throughout the school. All would be interested in the work of arrangement.

All would watch, too, with interest, the progress and the result of the experiment; and if, a few days after, the teacher should accidentally, in recess, see a disorderly desk, a pleasant remark, made with a smile, to the bystanders, "I suspect my prediction will turn out the correct one," would have far more effect, than the most severe reproaches, or the tingling of a rap over the knuckles with a rattan.

I know, from experience, that scholars of every kind, can be led, by such measures as these, or rather by such a spirit as this, to take an active interest, and to exert a most powerful influence, in regard to the whole condition of the institution. I have seen the experiment successful in boys' schools, and in girls' schools; among very little children, and among the seniors and juniors at college.

In one of the colleges of New England, a new and beautiful edifice was erected. The lecture rooms were fitted up in handsome style, and the officers, when the time for the occupation of the building approached, were anticipating with regret, what seemed to be the unavoidable defacing, and cutting, and marking of the seats and walls. It was however thought, that if the subject was properly presented to the students, they would take an interest in preserving the property from injury. They were accordingly addressed somewhat as follows:

"It seems, young gentlemen, to be generally the custom in colleges, for the students to ornament the walls and benches of their recitation rooms, with various inscriptions and carricatures, so that after the premises have been for a short time in the possession of a class, every thing within reach, which will take an impression from a penknife, or a trace from a pencil, is covered with names, and dates, and heads, and inscriptions of every kind. The faculty do not know what you wish in this respect, in regard to the new accommodations which the Trustees have now provided for you, and which you are soon to enter. They have had them fitted up for you handsomely, and if you wish to have them kept in good order, we will assist you. If the students think proper to express by a vote, or in any other way, their wish to keep them in good order, we will engage to have such incidental injuries, as may from time to time occur, immediately repaired. Such injuries will, of course, be done; for whatever may be the wish and general opinion of the whole, it is not to be expected that every individual, in so large a community, will be careful. If, however, as a body, you wish to have the building preserved in its present state, and will, as a body, take the necessary precautions, we will do our part."

The students responded to this appeal most heartily. They passed a vote, expressing a desire to preserve the premises in order, and for many years, and for ought I know, to the present hour, the whole is kept as a room occupied by gentlemen should be kept. At some other colleges, and those, too, sustaining the very highest rank among the institutions of the country, the doors of the public buildings are sometimes studded with nails, as thick as they can possibly be driven, and then covered with a thick coat of sand, dried into the paint, as a protection from the knives of the students!!

The particular methods, by which the teacher is to interest his pupils in his various plans for their improvement, cannot be very fully described here. In fact, it does not depend so much on the methods he adopts, as upon the view which he himself takes of these plans, and the tone and manner in which he speaks of them to his pupils.

A teacher, for example, perhaps on the first day of his labors in a new school, calls a class to read. They pretend to form a line, but it crooks in every direction. One boy is leaning back against a desk; another comes forward as far as possible, to get near the fire; the rest lounge in every position and in every attitude. John is holding up his book high before his face, to conceal an apple, from which he is endeavoring to secure an enormous bite. James is by the same sagacious device, concealing a whisper, which he is addressing to his next neighbor, and Moses is seeking amusement by crowding and elbowing the little boy who is unluckily standing next him.

"What a spectacle!" says the master to himself, as he looks at this sad display. "What shall I do?" The first impulse is, to break forth upon them at once, with all the artillery of reproof, and threatening, and punishment. I have seen, in such a case, a scolding and frowning master walk up and down before such a class, with a stern and angry air, commanding this one to stand back, and that to come forward, ordering one boy to put down his book, and scolding at a second for having lost his place, and knocking the knees of another with his rule, because he was out of the line. The boys scowl at their teacher, and, with ill-natured reluctance, they obey, just enough to escape punishment.

CHAPTER V.
RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE

In consequence of the unexampled religious liberty enjoyed in this country, for which it is happily distinguished above all other countries on the globe, there necessarily results a vast variety of religious sentiment and action. We cannot enjoy the blessings without the inconveniences of freedom. Where every man is allowed to believe as he pleases, some will undoubtedly believe wrong, and others will be divided, by embracing views of a subject which are different, though perhaps equally consistent with truth. Hence, we have among us, every shade and every variety of religious opinion, and in many cases, contention and strife, resulting from hopeless efforts to produce uniformity.

A stranger who should come among us, would suppose from the tone of our religious journals, and from the general aspect of society on the subject of religion, that the whole community was divided into a thousand contending sects, who hold nothing in common, and whose sole objects are, the annoyance and destruction of each other. But if we leave out of view some hundreds, or if you please, some thousands of theological controversialists, who manage the public discussions, and say and do all that really comes before the public on this subject, it will be found, that there is vastly more religious truth admitted by common consent, among the people of New England, than is generally supposed. This common ground, I shall endeavor briefly to describe. For it is very plain, that the teacher must, in ordinary cases, confine himself to it. By common consent, however, I do not mean the consent of every body; I mean that of the great majority of serious, thinking men.

But let us examine, first, for a moment, what right any member of the community has to express and to disseminate his opinions, with a view to the inquiry, whether the teacher is really bound to confine himself to what he can do, on this subject, with the common consent of his employers.

The French nation has been, for some time, as is well known, strongly agitated with questions of politics. It is with difficulty that public tranquillity is preserved. Every man takes sides. Now in this state of things, a wealthy gentleman, opposed to the revolutionary projects so constantly growing up there, and from principle and feeling, strongly attached to a monarchial government, wishes to bring up his children, with the same feelings which he himself cherishes. He has a right to do so. No matter if his opinions are wrong. He ought, it will be generally supposed in this country, to be republican. I suppose him to adopt opinions, which will generally, by my readers, be considered wrong, that I may bring more distinctly to view the right he has to educate his children as he thinks it proper that they should be educated. He may be wrong to form such opinions. But the opinions once formed, he has a right, with which no human power can justly interfere, to educate his children in conformity with those opinions. It is alike the law of God and nature, that the father should control, as he alone is responsible, the education of his child.

Now under these circumstances, he employs an American mechanic, who is residing in Paris, to come to his house and teach his children the use of the lathe. After some time, he comes into their little workshop, and is astonished to find the lathe standing still, and the boys gathered round the republican turner, who is telling them stories of the tyranny of kings, the happiness of republicans, and the glory of war. The parent remonstrates. The mechanic defends himself.

"I am a republican," he says, "upon principle, and wherever I go, I must exert all the influence in my power, to promote free principles, and to expose the usurpations and the tyranny of kings."

To this the Frenchman might very properly reply,

"In your efforts to promote your principles, you are limited, or you ought to be limited to modes that are proper and honorable. I employ you for a distinct and specific purpose, which has nothing to do with questions of government; and you ought not to allow your love of republican principles, to lead you to take advantage of the position in which I place you, and interfere with my plans for the political education of my children."

Now for the parallel case. A member of a Congregational Society, is employed to teach a school, in a district, occupied exclusively by Quakers,—a case not uncommon. He is employed there, not as a religious teacher, but for another specific and well-defined object. It is for the purpose of teaching the children of that district, reading, writing, and calculation, and for such other purposes, analogous to this, as the law, providing for the establishment of district schools, contemplated. Now when he is placed in such a situation, with such a trust confided to him, and such duties to discharge, it is not right for him, to make use of the influence, which this official station gives him, over the minds of the children committed to his care, for the accomplishment of any other purposes whatever, which the parents would disapprove. It would not be considered right, by men of the world, to attempt to accomplish any other purposes, in such a case; and are the pure and holy principles of piety, to be extended by methods more exceptionable, than those by which political and party contests are managed?

There is a very great and obvious distinction between the general influence which the teacher exerts as a member of the community, and that which he can employ in his school room as teacher. He has unquestionably a right to exert upon the community, by such means as he shares in common with every other citizen, as much influence as he can command, for the dissemination of his own political, or religious, or scientific opinions. But the strong ascendency, which, in consequence of his official station, he has obtained over the minds of his pupils, is sacred. He has no right to use it for any purpose foreign to the specific objects for which he is employed, unless by the consent, expressed or implied, of those by whom he is entrusted with his charge. The parents who send their children to him, to be taught to read, to write and to calculate, may have erroneous views of their duty, as parents, in other respects. He may know that their views are erroneous. They may be taking a course, which the teacher knows is wrong. But he has not, on this account, a right to step in between the parent and the child, to guide the latter according to his own opinions, and to violate the wishes and thwart the plans of the former.

God has constituted the relation between the parent and the child, and according to any view, which a rational man can take of this relation, the parent is alone responsible for the guidance he gives to that mind, so entirely in his power. He is responsible to God; and where our opinions, in regard to the manner in which any of the duties, arising from the relation, are to be performed, differ from his, we have no right to interfere, without his consent, to rectify what we thus imagine to be wrong. I know of but one exception, which any man whatever would be inclined to make, to this principle; and that is, where the parent would, if left to himself, take such a course, as would ultimately make his children unsafe members of society. The community have a right to interfere, in such a case, as they in fact do by requiring every man to provide for the instruction of his children, and in some other ways which need not now be specified. Beyond this, however, no interference contrary to the parent's consent, is justifiable. Where parents will do wrong, notwithstanding any persuasions which we can address to them, we must not violate the principles of an arrangement, which God has himself made, but submit patiently to the awful consequences, which will, in some cases, occur,—reflecting that the responsibility for these consequences, is on the head of those who neglect their duty, and that the being who makes them liable, will settle the account.

Whatever, then, the teacher attempts to do, beyond the specific and defined duties, which are included among the objects for which he is employed, must be done by permission,—by the voluntary consent, whether tacit, or openly expressed, of those by whom he is employed. This of course confines him to what is, generally, common ground, among his particular employers. In a republican country, where all his patrons are republican, he may without impropriety, explain and commend to his pupils, as occasion may occur, the principles of free governments, and the blessings which may be expected to flow from them. But it would not be justifiable for him to do this, under a monarchy, or in a community divided in regard to this subject, because this question does not come within the objects, for the promotion of which, his patrons have associated, and employed him,—and consequently, he has no right, while continuing their teacher, to go into it, without their consent. In the same manner, an Episcopal teacher, in a private school, formed and supported by Episcopalians, may use and commend forms of prayer, and explain the various usages of that church, exhibiting their excellence, and their adaptation to the purposes for which they are intended. He may properly do this, because in the case supposed, the patrons of the school are united on this subject, and their tacit consent may be supposed to be given. But place the same teacher over a school of Quaker children, whose parents dislike forms and ceremonies of every kind, in religion, and his duty would be changed altogether. So, if a Roman Catholic is entrusted with the instruction of a common district school, in a community composed of many Protestant denominations, it would be plainly his duty to avoid all influence, direct or indirect, over the minds of his pupils, except in those religious sentiments and opinions which are common to himself and all his employers. I repeat the principle. He is employed for a specific purpose, and he has no right to wander from that purpose, except as far as he can go, with the common consent of his employers.

Now, the common ground, on religious subjects, in this country, is very broad. There are indeed, many principles, which are, in my view, essential parts of Christianity, which are subjects of active discussion among us. But setting these aside, there are other principles equally essential, in regard to which the whole community are agreed; or at least, if there is a dissenting minority, it is so small, that it is hardly to be considered. Let us look at some of these principles.

1. Our community is agreed that there is a God. There is probably not a school in our country, where the parents of the scholars would not wish to have the teacher, in his conversation with his pupils, take this for granted, and allude reverently and judiciously to that great Being, with the design of leading them to realize his existence, and to feel his authority.

2. Our community are agreed, that we are responsible to God for all our conduct. Though some persons absurdly pretend to believe, that the Being who formed this world, if indeed they think there is any such Being, has left it and its inhabitants to themselves, not inspecting their conduct, and never intending to call them to account, they are too few among us to need consideration. A difference of opinion on this subject, might embarrass the teacher in France, and in other countries in Europe, but not here. However negligent men may be in obeying God's commands, they do almost universally in our country, admit in theory, the authority from which they come; and believing this, the parent, even if he is aware that he himself does not obey these commands, chooses to have his children taught to respect them. The teacher will thus be acting with the consent of his employers, in almost any part of our country, in endeavoring to influence his pupils to perform moral duties, not merely from worldly motives, nor from mere abstract principles of right and wrong, but from regard to the authority of God.

3. The community are agreed, too, in the belief of the immortality of the soul. They believe, almost without exception, that there is a future state of being, to which this is introductory and preparatory, and almost every father and mother in our country, wish to have their children keep this in mind, and to be influenced by it, in all their conduct.

4. The community are agreed, that we have a revelation from heaven. I believe there are very few instances where the parents would not be glad to have the Bible read from time to time, its geographical and historical meanings illustrated, and its moral lessons brought to bear upon the hearts and lives of their children. Of course, if the teacher is so unwise as to make such a privilege, if it were allowed him, the occasion of exerting an influence, upon one side or the other of some question which divides the community around him, he must expect to excite jealousy and distrust, and to be excluded from a privilege, which he might otherwise have been permitted freely to enjoy. There may, alas! be some cases, where the use of the Scriptures is altogether forbidden in school. But probably in almost every such case, it would be found, that it is from fear of its perversion to sect or party purposes, and not from any unwillingness to have the Bible used in the way I have described.

5. The community are agreed in theory, that personal attachment to the Supreme Being, is the duty of every human soul; and every parent, with exceptions so few that they are not worth naming, wishes that his children should cherish that affection, and yield their hearts to its influence. He is willing therefore that the teacher, of course without interfering with the regular duties for the performance of which he holds his office, should, from time to time, so speak of this duty,—of God's goodness to men,—of his daily protection,—and his promised favors, as to awaken, if possible, this attachment, in the hearts of his children. Of course, it is very easy for the teacher, if he is so disposed, to abuse this privilege also. He can, under pretence of awakening and cherishing the spirit of piety in the hearts of his pupils, present the subject in such aspects and relations, as to arouse the sectarian or denominational feelings of some of his employers. But I believe if this was honestly and fully avoided, there are few, if any, parents, in our country, who would not be gratified to have the great principle of love to God, manifest itself in the instructions of the school-room, and showing itself, by its genuine indications in the hearts and conduct of their children.

6. The community are agreed, not only in believing that piety consists primarily, in love to God, but that the life of piety is to be commenced by penitence for past sins, and forgiveness, in some way or other, through a Saviour. I am aware that one class of theological writers, in the heat of controversy, charge the other with believing that Jesus Christ was nothing more nor less than a teacher of religion, and there are unquestionably, individuals, who take this view. But these individuals are few. There are very few in our community, who do not in some sense, look upon Jesus Christ as our Saviour,—our Redeemer; who do not feel themselves in some way, indebted to him, for the offer of pardon. There may be, here and there, a theological student, or a contributor to the columns of a polemical magazine, who ranks Jesus Christ with Moses and with Paul. But the great mass of the fathers and mothers, of every name and denomination through all the ranks of society, look up to the Saviour of sinners, with something at least of the feeling, that he is the object of extraordinary affection and reverence. I am aware however, that I am approaching the limit, which, in many parts of our country, ought to bound the religious influence of the teacher in a public school; and on this subject, as on every other, he ought to do nothing directly or indirectly, which would be displeasing to those who have entrusted children to his care.

So much ground, it seems, the teacher may occupy, by common consent, in New-England, and it certainly is a great deal. It may be doubted whether, after all our disputes, there is a country in the world, whose inhabitants have so much in common, in regard to religious belief. There is, perhaps, no country in the world, where the teacher may be allowed to do so much, towards leading his pupils to fear God, and to obey his commands, with the cordial consent of parents, as he can here.²

The ground which I have been laying out, is common, all over our country; in particular places, there will be, even much more, that is common. Of course, the teacher, in such cases, will be at much greater liberty. If a Roman Catholic community establish a school, and appoint a Roman Catholic teacher, he may properly, in his intercourse with his scholars, allude, with commendation, to the opinions and practices of that church. If a college is established by the Methodist denomination, the teacher of that institution may, of course, explain and enforce there, the views of that society. Each teacher is confined only to those views which are common to the founders and supporters of the particular institution, to which he is attached.

I trust the principle which I have been attempting to enforce, is fully before the reader's mind, namely, that moral and religious instruction in a school, being in a great degree extra-official, in its nature, must be carried no farther than the teacher can go with the common consent, either expressed or implied, of those who have founded, and who support his school. Of course, if those founders forbid it altogether, they have a right to do so, and the teacher must submit. The only question that can justly arise, is, whether, he will remain in such a situation, or seek employment, where a door of usefulness, here closed against him, will be opened. While he remains, he must honestly and fully submit to the wishes of those, in whose hands Providence has placed the ultimate responsibility of training up the children of his school. It is only for a partial and specific purpose, that they are placed under his care.

The religious reader may inquire, why I am so anxious to restrain, rather than to urge on, the exercise of religious influence in schools. "There is far too little," some one will say, "instead of too much, and teachers need to be encouraged and led on in this duty, not to be restrained from it." There is, indeed, far too little religious influence exerted in common schools. What I have said, has been intended to prepare the way for an increase of it. My view of it is this:

If teachers do universally confine themselves to limits, which I have been attempting to define, they may accomplish within these limits, a vast amount of good. By attempting however, to exceed them, the confidence of parents is destroyed or weakened, and the door is closed. In this way, injury to a very great extent has been done in many parts of our country. Parents are led to associate with the very idea of religion, indirect and perhaps secret efforts to influence their children, in a way which they themselves would disapprove. They transfer to the cause of piety itself, the dislike which was first awakened by exceptionable means to promote it; and other teachers, seeing these evil effects, are deterred from attempting what they might easily and pleasantly accomplish. Before therefore, attempting to enforce the duty, and to explain the methods of exerting religious influence in school, I thought proper, distinctly to state, with what restrictions, and within what limits, the work is to be done.

There are many teachers who profess to cherish the spirit, and to entertain the hopes of piety, who yet make no effort whatever to extend its influence to the hearts of their pupils. Others appeal sometimes to religious truth, merely to assist them in the government of the school. They perhaps bring it before the minds of disobedient pupils, in a vain effort to make an impression upon the conscience of one who has done wrong, and who cannot by other means be brought to submission. But the pupil, in such cases, understands, or at least he believes, that the teacher applies to religious truth, only to eke out his own authority, and of course, it produces no effect. Another teacher thinks he must, to discharge his duty, give a certain amount weekly, of what he considers religious instruction. He accordingly appropriates a regular portion of time to a formal lecture or exhortation, which he delivers without regard to the mental habits of thought and feeling which prevail among his charge. He forgets that the heart must be led, not driven, to piety, and that unless his efforts are adapted to the nature of the minds he is acting upon, and suited to influence them, he must as certainly fail of success, as when there is a want of adaptedness between the means and the end in any other undertaking whatever.

The arrangement which seems to me as well calculated as any for the religious exercises of a school, is this:

1. In the morning open the school with a very short prayer, resembling in its object and length, the opening prayer in the morning, at Congregational churches. The posture, which from four years' experience, I would recommend at this exercise, is sitting, with the heads reclined upon the desks. The prayer, besides being short, should be simple in its language, and specific in its petitions. A degree of particularity and familiarity, which might be improper elsewhere, is not only allowable here, but necessary to the production of the proper effect. That the reader may understand to what extent I mean to be understood to recommend this, I will subjoin a form, such as in spirit I suppose such a prayer ought to be.

"Our Father in heaven, who has kindly preserved the pupils and the teacher of this school during the past night, come and grant us a continuance of thy protection and blessing during this day. We cannot spend the day prosperously and happily without thee. Come then, and be in this school-room during this day, and help us all to be faithful and successful in duty.

"Guide the teacher in all that he may do. Give him wisdom and patience, and faithfulness. May he treat all his pupils with kindness; and if any of them should do any thing that is wrong, wilt thou help him, gently but firmly to endeavor to bring him back to duty. May he sympathize with the difficulties and trials of all, and promote the present happiness, as well as the intellectual progress, of all who are committed to his care.

"Take care of the pupils too. May they spend the day pleasantly and happily together. Wilt thou who didst originally give us all our powers, direct and assist us all, this day, in the use and improvement of them. Remove difficulties from our path, and give us all, fidelity and patience in every duty. Let no one of us destroy our peace and happiness this day, by breaking any of thy commands,—or encouraging our companions, in sins—or neglecting, in any respect, our duty. We ask all in the name of our great Redeemer Amen."

Of course the prayer of each day will be varied, unless, in special cases, the teacher prefers to read some form like the above. But let every one be minute and particular, relating especially to school,—to school temptations, and trials, and difficulties. Let every one be filled with expressions relating to school, so that it will bear upon every sentence, the impression, that it is the petition of a teacher and his pupils, at the throne of grace.

2. If the pupils can sing, there may be a single verse, or sometimes two verses of some well known hymn, sung after the prayer, at the opening of the school. Teachers will find it much easier to introduce this practice, than it would at first be supposed. In almost every school, there are enough who can sing to begin, especially if the first experiment is made in a recess, or before or after school; and the beginning once made, the difficulty is over. If but few tunes are sung, a very large proportion of the scholars will soon learn them.

3. Let there be no other regular exercise until the close of the afternoon school. When that hour has arrived, let the teacher devote a very short period, five minutes perhaps, to religious instruction, given in various ways. At one time, he may explain and illustrate some important truth. At another, read, and comment upon, a very short portion of Scripture. At another, relate an anecdote, or fact, which will tend to interest the scholars in the performance of duty. The teacher should be very careful not to imitate on these occasions, the formal style of exhortation from the pulpit. Let him use no cant and hackneyed phrases, and never approach the subject of personal piety,—i. e. such feelings as penitence for sin, trust in God, and love for the Saviour,—unless his own heart is really, at the time, warmed by the emotions which he wishes to awaken in others. Children very easily detect hypocrisy. They know very well, when a parent or teacher is talking to them on religious subjects, merely as a matter of course, for the sake of effect; and such constrained and formal efforts never do any good.

Let then every thing which you do, in reference to this subject, be done with proper regard to the character and condition of the youthful mind, and in such a way as shall be calculated to interest, as well as to instruct. A cold and formal exhortation, or even an apparently earnest one, delivered in a tone of affected solemnity, will produce no good effect. Perhaps I ought not to say it will produce no good effect: for good does sometimes result, as a sort of accidental consequence, from almost any thing. I mean it will have no effectual tendency to do good. You must vary your method too, in order to interest your pupils. Watch their countenances when you are addressing them, and see if they look interested. If they do not, be assured that there is something wrong, or at least something ill-judged, or inefficient, in your manner of explaining the truths which you wish to have produce an effect upon their minds.

That you may be prepared to bring moral and religious truths before their minds in the way I have described, your own mind must take a strong interest in this class of truths. You must habituate yourself to look at the moral and religious aspects and relations of all that you see and hear. When you are reading, notice such facts, and remember such narratives, as you can turn to good account, in this way. In the same way, treasure up in mind such occurrences as may come under your own personal observation, when travelling, or when mixing with society.

That the spirit and manner of these religious exercises, may be the more distinctly understood, I will give some examples.

Let us suppose then that the hour for closing school has come. The books are laid aside; the room is still; the boys expect the few words which the teacher is accustomed to address to them, and looking up to him, they listen to hear what he has to say.

"You may take your Bibles."

The boys, by a simultaneous movement, open their desks, and take from them their copies of the sacred volume.

"What is the first book of the New Testament?"

"Matthew:" they all answer, at once.

"The second?" "Mark." "The third?" "Luke."

"The next?" "John." "The next?" "The Acts."

"The next?"

Many answer, "Romans."

"The next?"

A few voices say, faintly and with hesitation, "First of Corinthians."

"I perceive your answers become fainter and fainter. Do you know what is the last book of the New Testament?"

The boys answer promptly, "Revelations."

"Do you know what books are between the Acts and the book of Revelation?"

Some say, "No sir;" some begin to enumerate such books as occur to them, and some perhaps begin to name them promptly, and in their regular order.

"I do not mean," interrupts the teacher, "the names of the books, but the kinds of books."

The boys hesitate.

"They are epistles or letters. Do you know who wrote the letters?"

"Paul," "Peter," answer many voices at once.

"Yes, there were several writers. Now the point which I wish to bring before you is this; do you know in what order, I mean on what principles, the books are arranged?"

"No sir;" is the universal reply.

"I will tell you. First come all Paul's epistles. If you turn over the leaves of the Testament, you will see that Paul's letters are all put together, after the book of the Acts; and what I wish you to notice is, that they are arranged in the order of their length. The longest comes first, and then the next; and so on to the shortest, which is the epistle to Philemon. This of course, comes last—No;—I am wrong in saying it is the last of Paul's Epistles, there is one more,—to the Hebrews; and this comes after all the others, for there has been a good deal of dispute whether it was really written by Paul. You will see that his name is not at the beginning of it, as it is in his other epistles: so it was put last."

"Then comes the epistle of James. Will you see whether it is longer than any that come after it?" The boys, after a minute's examination, answer, "Yes sir," "Yes sir."

"What comes next?"

"The epistles of Peter."

"Yes; and you will see that the longest of Peter's epistles is next in length to that of James': And indeed all his are arranged in the order of their length."

"Yes sir."

"What comes next?"

"John's."

"Yes, and they arranged in the order of their length. Do you now understand the principles of the arrangement of the epistles?"

"Yes sir."

"I should like to have any of you who are interested in it, try to express this principle in a few sentences, on paper, and lay it on my desk to-morrow, and I will read what you write. You will find it very difficult to express it. Now you may lay aside your books. It will be pleasanter for you if you do it silently."

CHAPTER VI.
THE MT. VERNON SCHOOL

There is perhaps no way, by which teachers can, in a given time, do more to acquire a knowledge of their art, and an interest in it, than by visiting each others schools.

It is not always the case, that any thing is observed by the visiter, which he can directly and wholly introduce into his own school; but what he sees, suggests to him modifications or changes, and it gives him, at any rate, renewed strength and resolution in his work, to see how similar objects are accomplished, or similar difficulties removed, by others. I have often thought, that there ought on this account, to be far greater freedom and frequency in the interchange of visits, than there is.

Next, however, to a visit to a school, comes the reading of a vivid description of it. I do not mean a cold, theoretical exposition of the general principles of its management and instruction, for these are essentially the same, in all good schools. I mean a minute account of the plans and arrangements by which these general principles are applied. Suppose twenty, of the most successful teachers in New England would write such a description, each of his own school, how valuable would be the volume which should contain them!

With these views, I have concluded to devote one chapter to a description of the school which has been for four years under my care. The account was originally prepared and printed, but not published, for the purpose of distribution among the scholars, simply because this seemed to be the easiest and surest method of making them, on their admission to the school, acquainted with its arrangements and plans. It is addressed, therefore, throughout, to a pupil, and I preserve its original form, as, by its being addressed to pupils, and intended to influence them, it is an example of the mode of address, and the kind of influence recommended in this work. It was chiefly designed for new scholars; a copy of it was presented to each, on the day of her admission to the school, and it was made her first duty to read it attentively.

The system which it describes is one, which gradually grew up in the institution under the writer's care. The school was commenced with a small number of pupils, and without any system or plan whatever, and the one here described, was formed insensibly and by slow degrees, through the influence of various and accidental circumstances. I have no idea that it is superior to the plans of government and instruction adopted in many other schools. It is true that there must necessarily be some system in every large school; but various instructers will fall upon different principles of organization, which will naturally be such as are adapted to the habits of thought and manner of instruction of their respective authors, and consequently each will be best for its own place. While, therefore, some system,—some methodical arrangement, is necessary in all schools, it is not necessary that it should be the same in all. It is not even desirable that it should be. I consider this plan, as only one among a multitude of others, each of which will be successful, not by the power of its intrinsic qualities, but just in proportion to the ability and faithfulness with which it is carried into effect.

There may be features of this plan, which teachers who may read it, may be inclined to adopt. In other cases suggestions may occur to the mind of the reader, which may modify in some degree his present plans. Others may merely be interested in seeing how others effect, what they, by easy methods, are equally successful in effecting.

It is in these, and similar ways, that I have often myself been highly benefited in visiting schools, and in reading descriptions of them; and it is for such purposes, that I insert the account here.

TO A NEW SCHOLAR, ON HER ADMISSION TO THE MT. VERNON SCHOOL

As a large school is necessarily somewhat complicated in its plan, and as new scholars usually find that it requires some time, and gives them no little trouble, to understand the arrangements they find in operation here, I have concluded to write a brief description of these arrangements, by help of which, you will, I hope, the sooner feel at home in your new place of duty. That I may be more distinct and specific, I shall class what I have to say, under separate heads.

I. Your personal duty

Your first anxiety as you come into the school-room, and take your seat among the busy multitude, if you are conscientiously desirous of doing your duty, will be, lest, ignorant as you are of the whole plan and of all the regulations of the institution, you should inadvertently do what will be considered wrong. I wish first then to put you at rest on this score. There is but one rule of this school. That you can easily keep.

You will observe on one side of my desk a clock upon the wall, and upon the other a piece of apparatus that is probably new to you. It is a metallic plate upon which are marked in gilded letters, the words "Study Hours." This is upright, but it is so attached by its lower edge to its support, by means of a hinge, that it can fall over from above, and thus be in a horizontal position; or it will rest in an inclined position,—half down, as it is called. It is drawn up and let down by a cord passing over a pulley. When it passes either way, its upper part touches a bell, which gives all in the room notice of its motion.

Now when this "Study Card"³ as the scholars call it, is up so that the words "Study Hours" are presented to the view of the school, it is the signal for silence and study. There is then to be no communication and no leaving of seats except at the direction of teachers.

When it is half down, each scholar may leave her seat and whisper, but she must do nothing which will disturb others. When it is down, all the duties of school are suspended and scholars are left entirely to their liberty.

As this is the only rule of the school, it deserves a little more full explanation; for not only your progress in study, but your influence in promoting the welfare of the school, and consequently your peace and happiness while you are a member of it, will depend upon the strictness with which you observe it.

Whenever, then, the study card goes up, and you hear the sound of its little bell, immediately and instantaneously stop, whatever you are saying. If you are away from your seat go directly to it, and there remain, and forget in your own silent and solitary studies, so far as you can, all that are around you. You will remember that all communication is forbidden. Whispering, making signs, writing upon paper or a slate, bowing to any one,—and in fact, every possible way, by which one person may have any sort of mental intercourse with another, is wrong. A large number of the scholars take a pride and pleasure in carrying this rule into as perfect an observance as possible. They say, that as this is the only rule with which I trouble them, they ought certainly to observe this faithfully. I myself however put it upon other ground. I am satisfied, that it is better and pleasanter for you to observe it most rigidly, if it is attempted to be enforced at all.

You will ask, "Cannot we obtain permission of you or of the teachers to leave our seats or to whisper, if it is necessary?" The answer is, "No." You must never ask permission of me or of the teachers. You can leave seats or speak at the direction of the teachers, i. e. when they of their own accord, ask you to do it, but you are never to ask their permission. If you should, and if any teachers should give you permission, it would be of no avail. I have never given them authority to grant any permissions of the kind.

You will then say, are we never on any occasion whatever to leave our seats in study hours? Yes you are. There are two ways.

1. At the direction of teachers. Going to and from recitations, is considered as at the direction of teachers. So if a person is requested by a teacher to transact any business, or is elected to a public office, or appointed upon a committee,—leaving seats or speaking, so far as is really necessary for the accomplishing such a purpose, is considered as at the direction of teachers, and is consequently right. In the same manner, if a teacher should ask you individually, or give general notice to the members of class to come to her seat for private instruction, or to go to any part of the school-room for her, it would be right to do it. The distinction, you observe, is this. The teacher may of her own accord, direct any leaving of seats which she may think necessary to accomplish the objects of the school. She must not however, at the request of an individual for the sake of her mere private convenience, give her permission to speak or to leave her seat. If for example a teacher should say to you in your class, "As soon as you have performed a certain work you may bring it to me,"—you would in bringing it, be acting under her direction and would consequently do right. If however you should want a pencil and should ask her to give you leave to borrow it, even if she should give you leave, you would do wrong to go, for you would not be acting at her direction, but simply by her consent, and she has no authority to grant consent.

2. The second case in which you may leave your seat is when some very uncommon occurrence takes place which is sufficient reason for suspending all rules. If your neighbor is faint, you may speak to her and if necessary lead her out. If your mother or some other friend should come into the school-room you can go and sit with her upon the sofa, and talk about the school. And so in many other similar cases. Be very careful not to abuse this privilege, and make slight causes the grounds of your exceptions. It ought to be a very clear case. If a young lady is unwell in a trifling degree, so as to need no assistance, you would evidently do wrong to talk to her. The rule, in fact, is very similar to that which all well bred people observe at church. They never speak or leave their seats unless some really important cause, such as sickness, requires them to break over all rules and go out. You have in the same manner, in really important cases, such as serious sickness in your own case or in that of your companions, or the coming in of a stranger, or any thing else equally extraordinary, power to lay aside any rule and to act as the emergency may require. In using this discretion however, be sure to be on the safe side; in such cases never ask permission. You must act on your own responsibility.

Reasons for this rule. When the school was first established, there was no absolute prohibition of whispering. Each scholar was allowed to whisper in relation to her studies. They were often, very often, enjoined to be conscientious and faithful, but as might have been anticipated, the experiment failed. It was almost universally the practice to whisper more or less about subjects entirely foreign to the business of the school. This they all repeatedly acknowledged; and the scholars almost unanimously admitted, that the good of the school required the prohibition of all communication during certain hours. I gave them their choice, either always to ask permission when they wished to speak, or to have a certain time allowed for the purpose, during which free inter-communication might be allowed to all the school;—with the understanding, however, that out of this time, no permission should ever be asked or granted. They very wisely chose the latter plan, and the study card was constructed and put up to mark the times of free communication, and of silent study. The card was at first down every half hour for one or two minutes. The scholars afterwards thinking, that their intellectual habits would be improved and the welfare of the school promoted, by their having a longer time for uninterrupted study, of their own accord, without any influence from me, proposed that the card should be down only once an hour. This plan was adopted by them, by vote. I wish it to be understood that it was not my plan, but theirs, and that I am at any time willing to have the study card down once in half an hour, whenever a majority of the scholars, voting by ballot, desire it.

You will find that this system of having a distinct time for whispering, when all may whisper freely, all communication being entirely excluded at other times, will at first give you some trouble. It will be hard for you, if you are not accustomed to it, to learn conscientiously and faithfully to comply. Besides, at first you will often need some little information, or an article which you might obtain in a moment, but which you cannot innocently ask for till the card is down, and this might keep you waiting an hour. You will, however, after a few such instances, soon learn to make your preparations before hand, and if you are a girl of enlarged views and elevated feelings, you will good humoredly acquiesce in suffering a little inconvenience yourself, for the sake of helping to preserve those distinct and well defined lines, by which all boundaries must be marked, in a large establishment, if order and system are to be preserved at all.

Though at first you may experience a little inconvenience, you will soon take pleasure in the scientific strictness of the plan. It will gratify you to observe the profound stillness of the room where a hundred are studying. You will take pleasure in observing the sudden transition from the silence of study hours to the joyful sounds, and the animating activity of recess, when the Study Card goes down; and then when it rises again at the close of the recess, you will be gratified to observe how suddenly the sounds which have filled the air and made the room so lively a scene are hushed into silence by the single and almost inaudible touch of that little bell. You will take pleasure in this, for young and old always take pleasure in the strict and rigid operation of system, rather than in laxity and disorder. I am convinced also that the scholars do like the operation of this plan for I do not have to make any efforts to sustain it. With the exception that occasionally, usually not oftener than once in several months, I allude to the subject, and that chiefly on account of a few careless and unfaithful individuals, I have little to say or to do to maintain the authority of the study card. Most of the scholars obey it of their own accord, implicitly and cordially. And I believe they consider this faithful monitor, not only one of the most useful, but one of the most agreeable friends they have. We should not only regret its services, but miss its company, if it should be taken away.

This regulation then, viz., to abstain from all communication with one another, and from all leaving of seats, at certain times which are marked by the position of the Study Card, is the only one which can properly be called a rule of the school. There are a great many arrangements and plans relating to the instruction of the pupils, but no other specific rules relating to their conduct. You are, of course, while in the school, under the same moral obligations which rest upon you elsewhere. You must be kind to one another, respectful to superiors, and quiet and orderly in your deportment. You must do nothing to encroach upon another's rights, or to interrupt and disturb your companions in their pursuits. You must not produce disorder, or be wasteful of the public property, or do any thing else which you might know is in itself wrong. But you are to avoid these things, not because there are any rules in this school against them, for there are none;—but because they are in themselves wrong;—in all places and under all circumstances, wrong. The universal and unchangeable principles of duty are the same here as elsewhere. I do not make rules pointing them out, but expect that you will, through your own conscience and moral principle, discover and obey them.

Such a case as this, for example, once occurred. A number of little girls began to amuse themselves in recess with running about among the desks in pursuit of one another, and they told me, in excuse for it, that they did not know that it was "against the rule."

"It is not against the rule;" said I, "I have never made any rule against running about among the desks."

"Then," asked they, "did we do wrong?"

"Do you think it would be a good plan," I inquired, "to have it a common amusement in the recess, for the girls to hunt each other among the desks?"

"No sir," they replied simultaneously.

"Why not? There are some reasons I do not know, however whether you will have the ingenuity to think of them."

"We may start the desks from their places," said one.

"Yes," said I, "they are fastened down very slightly, so that I may easily alter their position."

"We might upset the inkstands," said another.

"Sometimes," added a third, "we run against the scholars who are sitting in their seats."

"It seems then you have ingenuity enough to discover the reasons. Why did not these reasons prevent your doing it."

"We did not think of them before."

"True; that is the exact state of the case. Now when persons are so eager to promote their own enjoyment, as to forget the rights and the comforts of others, it is selfishness. Now is there any rule in this school against selfishness."

"No sir."

"You are right. There is not. But selfishness is wrong,—very wrong, in whatever form it appears,—here, and every where else; and that, whether I make any rules against it or not."

You will see from this anecdote that though there is but one rule of the school, I by no means intend to say that there is only one way of doing wrong here. That would be very absurd. You must not do any thing which you may know, by proper reflection, to be in itself wrong. This however is an universal principle of duty, not a rule of the Mt. Vernon School. If I should attempt to make rules which would specify and prohibit every possible way by which you might do wrong, my laws would be innumerable. And even then I should fail of securing my object, unless you had the disposition to do your duty. No legislation can enact laws as fast as a perverted ingenuity can find means to evade them.

You will perhaps ask what will be the consequence if we transgress, either the single rule of the school, or any of the great principles of duty. In other words what are the punishments which are resorted to in the Mt. Vernon School? The answer is there are no punishments. I do not say that I should not, in case all other means should fail, resort to the most decisive measures to secure obedience and subordination. Most certainly, I should do so, as it would plainly be my duty to do it. If you should at any time be so unhappy as to violate your obligations to yourself, to your companions, or to me,—should you misimprove your time, or exhibit an unkind or a selfish spirit, or be disrespectful or insubordinate to your teachers,—I should go frankly and openly, but kindly to you, and endeavor to convince you of your fault. I should very probably do this by addressing a note to you, as I suppose this should be less unpleasant to you than a conversation. In such a case, I shall hope that you will as frankly and openly reply; telling me whether you admit your fault and are determined to amend, or else informing me of the contrary. I shall wish you to be sincere, and then I shall know what course to take next. But as to the consequences which may result to you if you should persist in what is wrong, it is not necessary that you should know them before hand. They who wander from duty, always plunge themselves into troubles they do not anticipate; and if you do what, at the time you are doing it, you know to be wrong, it will not be unjust that you should suffer the consequences, even if they were not beforehand understood and expected. This will be the case with you all through life, and it will be the case here.

I say it will be the case here; I ought rather to say that it will be the case, should you be so unhappy as to do wrong and to persist in it. Such cases however never occur. At least they occur so seldom, and at intervals so great, that every thing of the nature of punishment, that is, the depriving a pupil of any enjoyment, or subjecting her to any disgrace, or giving her pain in any way in consequence of her faults, except the simple pain of awakening conscience in her bosom is almost entirely unknown. I hope that you will always be ready to confess and forsake your faults, and endeavor while you remain in school, to improve in character, and attain as far as possible, every moral excellence.

I ought to remark before dismissing this topic, that I place very great confidence in the scholars in regard to their moral conduct and deportment, and they fully deserve it. I have no care and no trouble in what is commonly called the government of the school. Neither myself nor any one else is employed in any way in watching the scholars, or keeping any sort of account of them. I should not at any time hesitate to call all the teachers in an adjoining room, leaving the school alone for half an hour, and I should be confident, that at such a time order, and stillness, and attention to study would prevail as much as ever. The scholars would not look to see whether I was in my desk, but whether the Study Card was up. The school was left in this way, half an hour every day, during a quarter, that we might have a teachers' meeting, and the school went on, generally quite as well, to say the least, as when the teachers were present. One or two instances of irregular conduct occurred. I do not now recollect precisely what they were. They were however, fully acknowledged and not repeated, and I believe the scholars were generally more scrupulous and faithful then than at other times. They would not betray the confidence reposed in them. This plan was continued until it was found more convenient to have the teachers' meeting in the afternoons.

When any thing wrong is done in school, I generally state the case and request the individuals who have done it to let me know who they are. They do it sometimes by notes and sometimes in conversation,—but they always do it. The plan always succeeds. The scholars all know that there is nothing to be feared from confessing faults to me;—but that on the other hand, it is a most direct and certain way to secure returning peace and happiness.

I can illustrate this by describing a case which actually occurred. Though the description is not to be considered so much an accurate account of what occurred in a particular case, as an illustration of the general spirit and manner in which such cases are disposed of. I accidentally understood, that some of the younger scholars were in the habit, during recesses and after school, of ringing the door bell and then running away to amuse themselves with the perplexity of their companions, who should go to the door and find no one there. I explained in a few words, one day, to the school, that this was wrong.

"How many," I then asked, "have ever been put to the trouble to go to the door, when the bell has thus been rung? They may rise."

A very large number of scholars stood up. Those who had done the mischief were evidently surprised at the extent of the trouble they had occasioned.

"Now," I continued, "I think all will be convinced that the trouble which this practice has occasioned to the fifty or sixty young ladies, who cannot be expected to find amusement in such a way, is far greater than the pleasure it can have given to the few who are young enough to have enjoyed it. Therefore it was wrong. Do you think the girls who rang the bell might have known this, by proper reflection?"

"Yes sir," the school generally answered.

"I do not mean," said I, "if they had set themselves formally at work to think about the subject; but with such a degree of reflection as ought reasonably to be expected of little girls, in the hilarity of recess and of play.

"Yes sir," was still the reply, but fainter than before.

"There is one way by which I might ascertain whether you were old enough to know that this was wrong, and that is by asking those who have refrained from doing this, because they supposed it would be wrong, to rise. Then if some of the youngest scholars in school should stand up, as I have no doubt they would, it would prove that all might have known, if they had been equally conscientious. But if I ask those to rise who have not rung the bell, I shall make known to the whole school who they are that have done it, and I wish that the exposure of faults should be private, unless it is necessary that it should be public. I will therefore not do it. I have myself however, no doubt that all might have known that it was wrong."

"There is," continued I, "another injury which must grow out of such a practice. This I should not have expected the little girls could think of. In fact, I doubt whether any in school will think of it. Can any one tell what it is?"

No one replied.

"I should suppose that it would lead you to disregard the bell when it rings, and that consequently a gentleman or lady might sometimes ring in vain; the scholars near the door, saying, 'Oh it is only the little girls.'"

"Yes sir," was heard from all parts of the room.

I found from farther inquiry that this had been the case, and I closed by saying,

"I am satisfied, that those who have inadvertently fallen into this practice are sorry for it, and that if I should leave it here, no more cases of it would occur, and this is all I wish. At the same time, they who have done this, will feel more effectually relieved from the pain which having done wrong must necessarily give them, if they individually acknowledge it to me. I wish therefore that all who have done so, would write me notes stating the facts. If any one does not do it, she will punish herself severely, for she will feel for many days to come, that while her companions were willing to acknowledge their faults, she wished to conceal and cover hers. Conscience will reproach her bitterly for her insincerity, and whenever she hears the sound of the door bell, it will remind her not only of her fault, but of what is far worse her willingness to appear innocent when she was really guilty."

Before the close of the school I had eight or ten notes acknowledging the fault, describing the circumstances of each case, and expressing promises to do so no more.

It is by such methods as this, rather than by threatening and punishment, that I manage the cases of discipline which from time to time occur, but even such as this, slight as it is, occur very seldom. Weeks and weeks sometimes elapse without one. When they do occur they are always easily settled by confession and reform. Sometimes I am asked to forgive the offence. But I never forgive. I have no power to forgive. God must forgive you when you do wrong, or the burden must remain. My duty is, to take measures to prevent future transgression, and to lead those who have been guilty of it, to God for pardon. If they do not go to him, though they may satisfy me, as principal of a school, by not repeating the offence,—they must remain unforgiven. I can forget, and I do forget. For example, in this last case, I have not the slightest recollection of any individual who was engaged in it. The evil was entirely removed, and had it not afforded me a convenient illustration here, perhaps I should never have thought of it again,—still it may not yet be forgiven. It may seem strange that I should speak so seriously of God's forgiveness for such a trifle as that. Does he notice a child's ringing a door bell in play? He notices when a child is willing to yield to temptation, to do what she knows to be wrong, and to act, even in the slightest trifle, from a selfish disregard for the convenience of others. This spirit he always notices, and though I may stop any particular form of its exhibition, it is for Him alone to forgive it and to purify the heart from its power. But I shall speak more particularly on this subject under the head of Religious Instruction.

II. ORDER OF DAILY EXERCISES

There will be given you when you enter the school a blank schedule, in which the divisions of each forenoon for one week are marked, and in which your own employments for every half hour are to be written. A copy of this is inserted on page 196.

This schedule, when filled up, forms a sort of a map of the week, in which you can readily find what are your duties for any particular time. The following description will enable you better to understand it.

Opening of the School

The first thing which will call your attention as the hour for the commencement of the school approaches in the morning, is the ringing of a bell, five minutes before the time arrives, by the regulator, who sits at the curtained desk before the Study Card. One minute before the time, the bell is rung again, which is the signal for all to take their seats and prepare for the opening of the school. When the precise moment arrives, the Study Card is drawn up, and at the sound of its little bell, all the scholars recline their heads upon their desks and unite with me in a very short prayer for God's protection and blessing during the day. I adopted the plan of allowing the scholars to sit, because I thought it would be pleasanter for them, and they have in return been generally, so far as I know, faithful in complying with my wish that they would all assume the posture proposed, so that the school may present the uniform and serious aspect which is proper, when we are engaged in so solemn a duty. If you move your chair back a little, you will find the posture not inconvenient, but the only reward you will have for faithfully complying with the general custom is the pleasure of doing your duty, for no one watches you, and you would not be called to account should you neglect to conform.

After the prayer we sing one or two verses of a hymn. The music is led by the piano; and we wish all to join in it who can sing. The exercises which follow are exhibited to the eye by the following diagram.

MOUNT VERNON SCHOOL

SCHEDULE OF STUDIES.                                      1833

Miss

First Hour.—Evening Lessons

(See plan; page 196.)

We then, as you will see by the schedule, commence the first hour of the day. It is marked evening lessons, because most, though not all, of the studies are intended to be prepared out of school. These studies are miscellaneous in their character, comprising Geography, History, Natural and Intellectual Philosophy, and Natural History. This hour, like all the other hours for study, is divided into two equal parts, some classes reciting in the first part, and others in the second. A bell is always rung five minutes before the time for closing the recitation, to give the teachers notice that their time is nearly expired, and then again at the time, to give notice to new classes to take their places. Thus you will observe that five minutes before the half hour expires, the bell will ring; soon after which the classes in recitation will take their seats. Precisely at the end of the half hour, it will ring again, when new classes will take their places. In the same manner notice is given five minutes before the second half of the hour expires, and so in all the other three hours.

At the end of the first hour, the Study Card will be let half down, five minutes, and you will perceive that the sound of its bell will immediately produce a decided change in the whole aspect of the room. It is the signal, as has been before explained, for universal permission to whisper, and to leave seats, though not for loud talking or play, so that those who wish to continue their studies may do so without interruption. When the five minutes has expired, the Card goes up again, and its sound immediately restores silence and order.

Second Hour.—Languages

(See plan.)

We then commence the second hour of the school. This is devoted to the study of the Languages. The Latin, French, and English classes recite at this time. By English classes I mean those studying the English as a language, i. e. classes in Grammar, Rhetoric, and Composition. The hour is divided as the first hour is, and the bell is rung in the same way, i. e. at the close of each half hour, and also five minutes before the close, to give the classes notice that the time for recitation is about to expire.

First General Exercise

(See Plan.)

You will observe then, that there follows upon the schedule, a quarter of an hour marked G. That initial stands for General Exercise, and when it arrives each pupil is to lay aside her work, and attend to any exercise which may be proposed. This quarter of an hour is appropriated to a great variety of purposes. Sometimes I give a short and familiar lecture on some useful subject connected with science or art, or the principles of duty. Sometimes we have a general reading lesson. Sometimes we turn the school into a Bible class. Again the time is occupied in attending to some general business of the school. The bell is rung one minute before the close of the time, and when the period appropriated to this purpose has actually expired, the Study Card, for the first time in the morning, is let entirely down, and the room is at once suddenly transformed into a scene of life and motion and gaiety.

First Recess

(See plan.)

The time for the recess is a quarter of an hour, and as you will see, it is marked R. on the schedule. We have various modes of amusing ourselves and finding exercise and recreation in recesses. Sometimes the girls bring their battledoors to school. Sometimes they have a large number of soft balls, with which they amuse themselves. A more common amusement is marching to the music of the piano. For this purpose, a set of signals by the whistle has been devised, by which commands are communicated to the school.

In these and similar amusements the recess passes away, and one minute before it expires the bell is rung, to give notice of the approach of study hours.

At this signal the scholars begin to prepare for a return to the ordinary duties of school, and when at the full expiration of the recess, the Study Card again goes up, silence, and attention, and order is immediately restored.

Third Hour—Mathematics

(See plan.)

There follows next, as you will see by reference to the schedule, an hour marked Mathematics. It is time for studying and reciting Arithmetic, Algebra, Geometry and similar studies. It is divided as the previous hours were, into two equal parts, and the bell is rung as has been described, five minutes before the close, and precisely at the close of each half hour.

Second General Exercise.—Business

(See plan.)

Then follows two quarter hours, appropriated like those heretofore described, the first to a General Exercise, the second to a Recess. At the first of these, the general business of the school is transacted. As this business will probably appear new to you, and will attract your attention, I will describe its nature and design.

At first you will observe a young lady rise at the secretary's desk, to read a journal of what was done the day before. The notices which I gave, the arrangements I made,—the subjects discussed and decided,—and in fact every thing important and interesting in the business or occurrences of the preceding day—is recorded by the secretary of the school, and read at this time. This journal ought not to be a mere dry record of votes and business, but as far as possible, an interesting description in a narrative style, of the occurrences of the day. The Secretary must keep a memorandum, and ascertain that every thing important really finds a place in the record, but she may employ any good writer in school to prepare, from her minutes, the full account.

After the record is read, you will observe me take from a little red morocco wrapper, which has been brought to my desk, a number of narrow slips of paper, which I am to read aloud. In most assemblies it is customary for any person wishing it, to rise in his place, and propose any plan, or as it is called, "make any motion" that he pleases. It would be unpleasant for a young lady to do this, in presence of a hundred companions, and we have consequently resorted to another plan. The red wrapper is placed in a part of the room, accessible to all, and any one who pleases, writes upon a narrow slip of paper anything she wishes to lay before the school, and deposits it there, and at the appointed time, the whole are brought to me. These propositions are of various kinds. I can perhaps best give you an idea of them, by such specimens as occur to me.

"A. B. resigns her office of copyist, as she is about to leave school."

"Proposed, that a class in Botany be formed. There are many who would like to join it."

"When will vacation commence?"

"Proposed, that a music committee be appointed, so that we can have some marching in recess."

"Proposed that school begin at nine o'clock."

"Mr. Abbott. Will you have the goodness to explain to us what is meant by the Veto Message."

"Proposed that we have locks upon our desks."

You see that the variety is very great, and there are usually from four or five to ten or fifteen of such papers daily. You will be at liberty to make in this way, any suggestion or inquiry, or to propose any change you please in any part of the instruction or administration of the school. If any thing dissatisfies you, you ought not to murmur at it in private, or complain of it to your companions; thus injuring, to no purpose, both your own peace and happiness and theirs,—but you ought immediately to bring up the subject in the way above described, that the evil may be removed. I receive some of the most valuable suggestions in this way, from the older and more reflecting pupils. These suggestions are read. Sometimes I decide myself. Sometimes I say the pupils may decide. Sometimes I ask their opinion and wishes, and then, after taking them into consideration, come to a conclusion.

For example, I will insert a few of these propositions, as these papers are called, describing the way in which they would be disposed of. Most of them are real cases.

"Mr. Abbott. The first class in Geography is so large that we have not room in the recitation seats. Cannot we have another place?"

After reading this, I should perhaps say,

"The class in Geography may rise and be counted."

They rise. Those in each division are counted by the proper officer, as will hereafter be explained, and the numbers are reported aloud to me. It is all done in a moment.

"How many of you think you need better accommodations?"

If a majority of hands are raised, I say,

"I wish the teacher of that class would ascertain whether any other place of recitation is vacant, or occupied by a smaller class at that time, and report the case to me."

"Proposed, that we be allowed to walk upon the common in the recesses."

"I should like to have some plan formed, by which you can walk on the common in recesses, but there are difficulties. If all should go out together, it is probable that some would be rude and noisy, and that others would come back tardy and out of breath. Besides, as the recess is short, so many would be in haste to prepare to go out, that there would be a great crowd and much confusion in the Ante-room and passage ways. I do not mention these as insuperable objections, but only as difficulties which there must be some plan to avoid. Perhaps, however, they cannot be avoided. Do any of you think of any plan?"

I see perhaps two or three hands raised, and call upon the individuals by name, and they express their opinions. One says that a part can go out at a time. Another proposes that those who are tardy one day should not go out again, &c.

"I think it possible that a plan can be formed on these or some such principles. If you will appoint a committee who will prepare a plan, and mature its details, and take charge of the execution of it, you may try the experiment. I will allow it to go on as long as you avoid the evils I have above alluded to."

A committee is then raised to report in writing at the business hour of the following day.

"Proposed, that the Study Card be down every half hour."

"You may decide this question yourselves. That you may vote more freely, I wish you to vote by ballot. The boxes will be open during the next recess. The Vote-Receivers will write the question, and place it upon the boxes. All who feel interested in the subject, may carry in their votes, Ay or Nay. When the result is reported to me I will read it to the school."

In this and similar ways the various business brought up is disposed of. This custom is useful to the scholars, for it exercises and strengthens their judgment and their reflecting powers more than almost any thing besides; so that if interesting them in this way in the management of the school, were of no benefit to me, I should retain the practice, as most valuable to them. But it is most useful to me and to the school. I think nothing has contributed more to its prosperity than the active interest which the scholars have always taken in its concerns, and the assistance they have rendered me in carrying my plans into effect.

You will observe that in transacting this business, very little is actually done by myself, except making the ultimate decision. All the details of business are assigned to teachers, or to officers and committees appointed for the purpose. By this means we despatch business very rapidly. The system of offices will be explained in another place; but I may say here that all appointments and elections are made in this quarter hour, and by means of the assistance of these officers the transaction of business is so facilitated that much more can sometimes be accomplished than you would suppose possible. I consider this period as one the most important in the whole morning.

Second Recess

(See plan.)

After the expiration of the quarter hour above described, the study card is dropped, and a recess succeeds.

Fourth Hour.—Sections

(See plan.)

In all the former part of the day the scholars are divided into classes, according to their proficiency in particular branches of study, and they resort to their recitations for instruction. They now are divided into six sections as we call them, and placed under the care of superintendents not for instruction, but for what may be called supervision. Teaching a pupil is not all that is necessary to be done for her in school. There are many other things, to be attended to—such as supplying her with the various articles necessary for her use,—seeing that her desk is convenient,—that her time is well arranged,—that she has not too much to do, nor too little,—and that no difficulty which can be removed, obstructs her progress in study, or her happiness in school. The last hour is appropriated to this purpose, with the understanding, however, that such a portion of it as is not wanted by the superintendent, is to be spent in study. You will see then, when the last hour arrives, that all the scholars go in various directions, to the meetings of their respective sections. Here they remain as long as the superintendent retains them. Sometimes they adjourn almost immediately; perhaps after having simply attended to the distribution of pens for the next day; at other times they remain during the hour, attending to such exercises as the superintendent may plan. The design, however, and nature of this whole arrangement, I shall explain more fully in another place.

Close of the School

As the end of the hour approaches, five minutes notice is given by the bell, and when the time arrives, the study card is half dropped for a moment before the closing exercises. When it rises again the room is restored to silence and order. We then sing a verse or two of a hymn, and commend ourselves to God's protection in a short prayer. As the scholars raise their heads from the posture of reverence they have assumed, they pause a moment till the regulator lets down the study card, and the sound of its bell is the signal that our duties at school are ended for the day.

III. INSTRUCTION AND SUPERVISION OF PUPILS

For the instruction of the pupils, the school is divided into classes, and for their general supervision, into sections, as has been intimated in the preceding chapter. The head of a class is called a Teacher, and the head of a section a Superintendent. The same individual may be both the Teacher of a class, and the Superintendent of a section. The two offices are, however, entirely distinct in their nature and design. As you will perceive by recalling to mind the daily order of exercises, the classes meet and recite during the first three hours of the school, and the sections assemble on the fourth and last. We shall give each a separate description.

1. CLASSES

The object of the division into classes is instruction. Whenever it is desirable that several individuals should pursue a particular study, a list of their names is made out, a book selected, a time for recitation assigned, a teacher appointed, and the exercises begin. In this way a large number of classes have been formed, and the wishes of parents or the opinion of the Principal, and in many cases that of the pupil, determines how many and what shall be assigned to each individual. A list of these classes, with the average age of the members, the name of the teacher, and the time of recitation, is posted in a conspicuous place, and public notice is given whenever a new class is formed. You will therefore have the opportunity to know all the arrangements of school in this respect, and I wish you to exercise your own judgment and discretion a great deal, in regard to your studies. I do not mean I expect you to decide, but to reflect upon them. Look at the list, and consider what am most useful for you. Propose to me or to your parents, changes, whenever you think any are necessary; and when you finish one study, reflect carefully, yourself, on the question what you shall next commence.

The scholars prepare their lessons when they please. They are expected to be present and prepared at the time of recitation, but they make the preparation when it is most convenient. The more methodical and systematic of the young ladies, mark the times of study as well as of recitation upon their schedules, so that the employment of their whole time at school is regulated by a systematic plan. You will observe too, that by this plan of having a great many classes reciting through the first three hours of the morning, every pupil can be employed as much or as little as her parents please. In a case of ill health, she may, as has often been done in such cases at the request of parents, join one or two classes only, and occupy the whole forenoon in preparing for them, and be entirely free from school duties at home. Or she may, as is much more frequently the case, choose to join a great many classes, so as to fill up, perhaps, her whole schedule with recitations, in which case she must prepare all her lessons at home. It is the duty of teachers to take care, however, when a pupil pleads want of time as a reason for being unprepared in any lesson, that the case is fully examined, that it may be ascertained whether the individual has joined too many classes, in which case some one should be dropped, and thus the time and the employments of each individual should be so adjusted as to give her constant occupation in school, and as much more as her parents may desire. By this plan of the classes, each scholar goes on just as rapidly in her studies, as her time, and talents, and health will allow. No one is kept back by the rest. Each class goes on regularly and systematically, all its members keeping exactly together in that study, but the various members of it will have joined a greater or less number of other classes, according to their age, or abilities, or progress in study, so that all will or may have full employment for their time.

When you first enter the school, you will, for a day or two, be assigned to but few classes, for your mind will be distracted by the excitement of new scenes and pursuits, and the intellectual effort necessary for joining a class is greater than that requisite for going on with it, after being once under way. After a few days you will come to me and say, perhaps, (for this is ordinarily the process:)

"Mr. Abbott, I think I have time for some more studies."

"I will thank you to bring me your schedule," I say in reply, "so that I can see what you have now to do."

By glancing my eye over the schedule in such a case, I see in a moment what duties have been already assigned you, and from my general schedule, containing all the studies of the school, I select what would be most suitable for you, after conferring with you about your past pursuits, and your own wishes or those of your parents in regard to your future course. Additions are thus made, until your time is fully occupied.

The manner of recitation in the classes, is almost boundlessly varied. The design is not to have you commit to memory what the book contains, but to understand and digest it,—to incorporate it fully into your own mind, that it may come up in future life, in such a form as you wish it for use. Do not then, in ordinary cases, endeavor to fix words, but ideas in your minds. Conceive clearly,—paint distinctly to your imagination what is described,—contemplate facts in all their bearings and relations, and thus endeavor to exercise the judgment and the thinking and reasoning powers, rather than the mere memory, upon the subjects which will come before you.

2. SECTIONS

In describing the order of daily exercises, I alluded to the sections which assemble in the last hour of the school. It is necessary that I should fully describe the system of sections, as it constitutes a very important part of the plan of the school.

Besides giving the scholars the necessary intellectual instruction, there are, as I have already remarked, a great many other points which must receive attention, in order to promote their progress, and to secure the regular operation and general welfare of the school. These various points have something common in their nature, but it is difficult to give them a common name. They are such as supplying the pupils with pens and paper, and stationary of other kinds,—becoming acquainted with each individual, ascertaining that she has enough, and not too much to do,—arranging her work so that no one of her duties shall interfere with another,—assisting her to discover and to correct her faults,—and removing any sources of difficulty or causes of discontent, which may gradually come in her way. These, and a multitude of similar points constituting what may be called the general administration of the school, become, when the number of pupils is large, a most important branch of the teacher's duty.

To accomplish these objects more effectually, the school is divided into SIX SECTIONS, arranged not according to proficiency in particular studies, as the several classes are, but according to age and general maturity of mind. Each one of these sections is assigned to the care of a Superintendent. These Superintendents, it is true, during most of school hours are also Teachers. Their duties however as Teachers, and as Superintendents are entirely distinct. I shall briefly enumerate the duties which devolve upon her in the latter capacity.

1. A Superintendent ought to prepare an exact list of the members of her section, and to become intimately acquainted with them, so as to be as far as possible their friend and confidant, and to feel a stronger interest in their progress in study and their happiness in school, and a greater personal attachment to them than to any other scholars.

2. She is to superintend the preparation of their schedules,—to see that each one has enough and not too much to do, by making known to me the necessity of a change where such necessity exists;—to see that the schedules are submitted to the parents, and that their opinion, or suggestions if they wish to make any, are reported to me.

3. She is to take care that all the daily wants of her section are supplied,—that all have pens and paper, and desks of suitable height. If any are new scholars, she ought to interest herself in assisting them to become acquainted in school,—if they are friendless and alone, to find companions for them, and to endeavor in every way, to make their time pass pleasantly and happily.

4. To watch the characters of the members of her section. To inquire of their several teachers as to the progress they make in study, and the faithfulness and punctuality with which they prepare their lessons. She ought to ascertain whether they are punctual at school, and regular in their habits,—whether their desks are neat and well arranged, and their exercises carefully executed. She ought to correct, through her own influence, any evils of this kind she may find, or else immediately to refer the cases where this cannot be done, to me.

The better and the more pleasantly to accomplish the object of exerting a favorable influence upon the characters of the members of their sections, the Superintendents ought often to bring up subjects connected with moral and religious duty in section meetings. This may be done in the form of subjects assigned for composition, or proposed for free discussion in writing or conversation, or, the Superintendents may write themselves, and read to the section the instructions they wish to give.

5. Though the Superintendents as such, have necessarily speaking, no teaching to do, still they ought particularly to secure the progress of every pupil in what may be called the essential studies, such as reading, writing, and spelling. For this purpose they either see that their pupils are going on successfully in classes in school, in these branches, or they may attend to them in the Section, provided that they never allow such instruction to interfere with their more appropriate and important duties.

In a word, the Superintendents are to consider the members of their Sections as pupils confided to their care, and they are not merely to discharge mechanically any mere routine of duty, such as can be here pointed out, but to exert all their powers,—their ingenuity, their knowledge of human character, their judgment and discretion in every way, to secure for each of those committed to their care, the highest benefits which the institution to which they belong can afford. They are to keep a careful and faithful record of their plans and of the history of their respective Sections, and to endeavor, as faithfully and as diligently, to advance the interests of the members of them, as if the Sections were separate and independent schools of their own.

A great responsibility is thus evidently intrusted to them, but not a great deal of power. They ought not to make changes, except in very plain cases, without referring the subject to me. They ought not to make rash experiments, or even to try many new plans without first obtaining my approval of them. They ought to refer all cases which they cannot easily manage, to my care. They ought to understand the distinction between seeing that a thing is done, and doing it. For example, if a Superintendent thinks that one of her Section is in too high a class in Arithmetic, her duty is not to undertake, by her own authority, to remove her to a lower one, for, as Superintendent, she has no authority over Arithmetic classes; nor should she go the opposite extreme of saying, "I have no authority over Arithmetic classes, and therefore I have nothing to do with this case." She ought to go to the teacher of the class to which her pupil had been unwisely assigned, converse with her, obtain her opinion, then find some other class more suited to her attainments, and after fully ascertaining all the facts in the case, bring them to me, that I may make the change. This is superintendence;—looking over the condition and progress of the scholar. The Superintendents have thus great responsibility, and yet comparatively little power. They accomplish a great deal of good, and in its ordinary course it is by their direct personal efforts; but in making changes and remedying defects and evils, they act generally in a different way.

The last hour of school is devoted to the Sections. No classes recite then, but the Sections meet, if the Superintendents wish, and attend to such exercises as they provide. Each Section has its own organization, its own officers and plans. These arrangements of course, vary in their character according to the ingenuity and enterprise of the Superintendents, and more especially according to the talents and intellectual ardor of the members of the Section.

The two upper Sections are called Senior, the next two Middle, and the two younger Junior. The senior Sections are distinguished by using paper for Section purposes, with a light blue tinge. To the middle Sections is assigned a light straw color; and to the junior, pink. These colors are used for the schedules of the members, and for the records, and other documents of the Section.

This account, though it is brief, will be sufficient to explain to you the general principles of the plan. You will soon become acquainted with the exercises and arrangements of the particular Section to which you will be assigned, and by taking an active interest in them, and endeavoring to co-operate with the Superintendent in all her measures, and to comply with her wishes, you will very materially add to her happiness, and do your part towards elevating the character of the circle to which you will belong.

IV. OFFICERS

In consequence of the disposition early manifested by the scholars, to render me every assistance in their power in carrying into effect the plans of the school, and promoting its prosperity, I gradually adopted the plan of assigning to various officers and committees, a number of specific duties, relating to the general business of the school. These offices have gradually multiplied as the school has increased, and as business has accumulated. The system has, from time to time, been revised, condensed, and simplified, and at the present time it is thus arranged. The particular duties of each officer, are minutely described to the individuals themselves at the time of their election; all I intend here is to give a general view of the plan, such as is necessary for the scholars at large.

There are then, five departments of business entrusted to officers of the school, the names of the officers, and a brief exposition of their duties are as follows.

[I omit the particular explanation of the duties of the officers, as the arrangement must vary in different schools, and the details of any one plan can only be useful in the school-room to which it belongs. It will be sufficient to name the officers of each department with their duties in general terms.]

1. Regulators. To assist in the ordinary routine of business in school—ringing the bells—managing the study card—distributing and collecting papers—counting votes, &c.

2. Secretaries. Keeping the records and executing writing of various kinds.

3. Accountants. Keeping a register of the scholars, and various other duties connected with the accounts.

4. Librarians. To take charge of books and stationary.

5. Curators. To secure neatness and good order in the apartments.

The Secretaries and Accountants are appointed by the Principal, and will generally be chosen from the teachers. The first in each of the other departments are chosen by ballot, by the scholars. Each one thus chosen nominates the second in her department, and they two, the assistants. These nominations must be approved at a teacher's meeting, for if a scholar is inattentive to her studies, disorderly in her desk, or careless and troublesome in her manners, she evidently ought not to be appointed to public office. No person can hold an office in two of these departments. She can, if she pleases, however, resign one to accept another. Each of these departments ought often to assemble and consult together, and form plans for carrying into effect with greater efficiency, the objects entrusted to them. They are to keep a record of all their proceedings, the head of the department acting as secretary for this purpose.

The following may be given as an example of the manner in which business is transacted by means of these officers. On the day that the above description of their duties was written, I wished for a sort of directory, to assist the collector employed to receive payments for the bills; and, to obtain it, I took the following steps.

At the business quarter hour, I issued the following order.

"Before the close of school I wish the distributors to leave upon each of the desks, a piece of paper," (the size I described.) "It is for a purpose which I shall then explain."

Accordingly at any leisure moment, before the close of school, each one went with her box to the stationary shelves, which you will see in the corners of the room, where a supply of paper, of all the various sizes, used in school, is kept, and taking out a sufficient number, they supplied all the desks in their respective divisions.

When the time for closing school arrived, I requested each young lady to write the name of her parent or guardian upon the paper, and opposite to it, his place of business. This was done in a minute or two.

"All those whose parent's or guardian's name begins with a letter above m. may rise."

They rose.

"The distributors may collect the papers."

The officers then passed round in regular order, each through her own division, and collected the papers.

"Deliver them at the Accountant's desk."

They were accordingly carried there, and received by the Accountants.

In the same manner the others were collected and received by the Accountants, but kept separate.

"I wish now the second Accountant would copy these in a little book I have prepared for the purpose, arranging them alphabetically, referring all doubtful cases again to me."

The second Accountant then arranged the papers, and prepared them to go into the book, and the writer who belongs to the department copied them fairly.

I describe this case, because it was one which occurred at the time I was writing the above description, and not because there is any thing otherwise peculiar in it. Such cases are continually taking place, and by the division of labor above illustrated, I am very much assisted in a great many of the duties, which would otherwise consume a great portion of my time.

Any of the scholars may, at any time, make suggestions in writing, to any of these officers, or to the whole school. And if an officer should be partial, or unfaithful, or negligent in her duty, any scholar may propose her impeachment. After hearing what she chooses to write in her defence, a vote is taken on sustaining the impeachment. If it is sustained, she is deprived of the office and another appointed to fill her place.

V. THE COURT

I have already described how all serious cases of doing wrong or neglect of duty are managed in the school. I manage them myself, by coming as directly and as openly as I can, to the heart and conscience of the offender. There are, however, a number of little transgressions, too small to be individually worthy of serious attention, but which are yet troublesome to the community, when frequently repeated. These relate chiefly to order in the school rooms. These misdemeanors are tried, half in jest, and half in earnest, by a sort of court, whose forms of process might make a legal gentleman smile. They however fully answer our purpose. I can best give you an idea of the court, by describing an actual trial. I ought however first to say, that any young lady, who chooses to be free from the jurisdiction of the court, can signify that wish to me, and she is safe from it. This however is never done. They all see the useful influence of it, and wish to sustain it.

Near the close of school, I find perhaps on my desk a paper of which the following may be considered a copy. It is called the indictment.

We accuse Miss A. B. of having waste papers in the aisle opposite her desk, at 11 o'clock, on Friday, Oct. 12.

I give notice after school that a case is to be tried. Those interested, twenty or thirty perhaps, gather around my desk, while the sheriff goes to summon the accused and the witnesses. A certain space is marked off as the precincts of the court, within which no one must enter in the slightest degree, on pain of imprisonment, i. e. confinement to her seat until the court adjourns.

"Miss A. B.; you are accused of having an untidy floor about your desk. Have you any objection to the indictment?"

While she is looking over the indictment, to discover a misspelled word, or an error in the date, or some other latent flaw, I appoint any two of the bystanders, jury. The jury come forward to listen to the cause.

The accused returns the indictment, saying, she has no objection, and the witnesses are called upon to present their testimony.

Perhaps the prisoner alleges in defence that the papers were out in the aisle, not under her desk, or that she did not put them there, or that they were too few, or too small, to deserve attention.

My charge to the jury would be somewhat as follows.

"You are to consider and decide whether she was guilty of disorder; taking into view the testimony of the witnesses, and also her defence. It is considered here that each young lady is responsible not only for the appearance of the carpet under her desk, but also for the aisle opposite to it, so that her first ground of defence must be abandoned. So also with the second, that she did not put them there. She ought not to have them there. Each scholar must keep her own place in a proper condition;—so that if disorder is found there, no matter who made it, she is responsible, if she only had time to remove it. As to the third, you must judge whether enough has been proved by the witnesses to make out real disorder." The jury write guilty or not guilty upon the paper, and it is returned to me. If sentence is pronounced it is usually confinement to the seat, during a recess, or part of a recess, or something that requires slight effort or sacrifice, for the public good. The sentence is always something real, though always slight, and the court has a great deal of influence in a double way; making amusement, and preserving order.

The cases tried are very various, but none of the serious business of the school is entrusted to it. Its sessions are always held out of school hours; and in fact it is hardly considered by the scholars as a constituent part of the arrangements of the school. So much so, that I hesitated much about inserting an account of it in this description.

VI. RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION

In giving you this account, brief as it is, I ought not to omit to speak of one feature of our plan, which we have always intended should be one of the most prominent and distinctive characteristics of the school. The gentlemen who originally interested themselves in its establishment, had mainly in view the exertion, by the Principal, of a decided moral and religious influence over the hearts of the pupils. Knowing, as they did, how much more dutiful and affectionate at home you would be, how much more successful in your studies at school, how much happier in your intercourse with each other, and in your prospects for the future both here and hereafter, if your hearts could be brought under the influence of Christian principle, they were strongly desirous that the school should be so conducted, that its religious influence, though gentle and alluring in its character, should be frank, and open, and decided. I need not say that I myself entered very cordially into these views. It has been my constant effort, and one of the greatest sources of my enjoyment, to try to win my pupils to piety, and to create such an atmosphere in school, that conscience, and moral principle, and affection for the unseen Jehovah, should reign here. You can easily see hew much pleasanter it is for me to have the school controlled by such an influence, than if it were necessary for we to hire you to diligence in duty, by prizes or rewards, or to deter you from neglect or from transgression, by reproaches, and threatenings, and punishments.

The influence which the school has thus exerted has always been cordially welcomed by my pupils, and approved, so far as I have known, by their parents, though four or five denominations, and fifteen or twenty different congregations have been, from time to time, represented in the school. There are few parents who would not like to have their children Christians;—sincerely and practically so;—for every thing which a parent can desire in a child is promoted, just in proportion as she opens her heart to the influence of the spirit of piety. But that you may understand what course is taken, I shall describe, first what I wish to effect in the hearts of my pupils, and then what means I take to accomplish the object.

1. A large number of young persons of your age, and in circumstances similar to those in which you are placed perform with some fidelity their various outward duties, but maintain no habitual and daily communion with God. It is very wrong for them to live thus without God, but they do not see,—or rather do not feel the guilt of it. They only think of their accountability to human beings like themselves, for example their parents, teachers, brothers and sisters, and friends. Consequently they think most of their external conduct, which is all that human beings can see. Their hearts are neglected and become very impure,—full of evil thoughts, and desires, and passions, which are not repented of, and consequently not forgiven. Now what I wish to accomplish in regard to all my pupils is, that they should begin to feel their accountability to God, and to act according to it. That they should explore their hearts and ask God's forgiveness for all their past sins, through Jesus Christ, who died for them that they might be forgiven; and that they should from this time, try to live near to God, feel his presence, and enjoy that solid peace and happiness which flows from a sense of his protection. When such a change takes place, it relieves the mind from that constant and irritating uneasiness, which the great mass of mankind feel as a constant burden; the ceaseless forebodings of a troubled conscience, reproaching them for their past accumulated guilt, and warning them of a judgment to come. The change which I endeavor to promote, relieves the heart-both of the present suffering and of the future danger.

After endeavoring to induce you to begin to act from Christian principle, I wish to explain to you, your various duties to yourselves, your parents, and to God.

2. The measures to which I resort to accomplish these objects are three.

First. Religious Exercises in School. We open and close the school with a very short prayer, and one or two verses of a hymn. Sometimes I occupy ten or fifteen minutes at one of the general exercises, or at the close of the school, in giving instruction upon practical religious duty. The subjects are sometimes suggested by a passage of scripture read for the purpose, but more commonly in another way.

You will observe often at the close of the school or at an appointed general exercise, that a scholar will bring to my desk a dark-colored morocco wrapper, containing several small strips of paper upon which questions relating to moral or religious duty, or subjects for remarks from me, or anecdotes, or short statements of facts, giving rise to inquiries of various kinds, are written. This wrapper is deposited in a place accessible to all the scholars, and any one who pleases, deposits in it any question or suggestion on religious subjects which may occur to her. You can, at any time, do this yourself, thus presenting any doubt, or difficulty, or inquiry, which may at any time occur to you.

Second. Religious Exercise on Saturday afternoon. In order to bring up more distinctly and systematically the subject of religious duty, I established a long time ago, a religious meeting on Saturday afternoon. It is intended for those who feel interested in receiving such instruction, and who can conveniently attend at that time. If you have not other engagements, and if your parents approve of it, I should be happy to have you attend. There will be very little to interest you except the subject itself, for I make all the instructions which I give there as plain, direct, and practical as is in my power. A considerable number of the scholars usually attend, and frequently bring with them many of their female friends. You can at any time invite any one whom you please, to come to the meeting. It commences at half past three and continues about half an hour.

Third. Personal religious instruction. In consequence of the large number of my pupils, and the constant occupation of my time in school, I have scarcely any opportunity of religious conversation with them, even with those who particularly desire it. The practice has therefore arisen, and gradually extended itself almost universally in school, of writing to me on the subject. These communications are usually brief notes, expressing the writer's interest in the duties of piety, or bringing forward her own peculiar practical difficulties, or making specific inquiries, or asking particular instruction in regard to some branch of religious duty. I answer in a similar way,—very briefly and concisely however,—for the number of notes of this kind which I receive, is very large, and the time which I can devote to such a correspondence necessarily limited. I should like to receive such communications from all my pupils; for advice or instruction communicated in reply, being directly personal, is far more likely to produce effect. Besides my remarks being in writing, can be read a second time, and be more attentively considered and re-considered, than when words are merely spoken. These communications must always be begun by the pupil. I never, (unless there may be occasional exceptions in some few very peculiar cases) commence. I am prevented from doing this both by my unwillingness to obtrude such a subject personally upon those who might not welcome it, and by want of time. I have scarcely time to write to all those who are willing first to write to me. Many cases have occurred where individuals have strongly desired some private communication with me, but have hesitated long, and shrunk reluctantly from the first step. I hope it will not be so with you. Should you ever wish to receive from me any direct religious instruction, I hope you will write immediately and freely. I shall very probably not even notice that it is the first time I have received such a communication from you. So numerous and so frequent are these communications that I seldom observe, when I receive one from any individual for the first time, that it comes from one who has not written me before.

Such are the means to which I resort in endeavoring to lead my pupils to God and to duty. And you will observe that the whole design of them is to win and to allure, not to compel. The regular devotional exercises of school, are all which you will necessarily witness. These are very short, occupying much less time than many of the pupils think desirable. The rest is all private and voluntary. I never make any effort to urge any one to attend the Saturday meeting, nor do I, except in a few rare and peculiar cases, ever address any one personally, unless she desires to be so addressed. You will be left therefore in this school unmolested,—to choose your own way. If you should choose to neglect religious duty, and to wander away from God, I shall still do all in my power to make you happy in school, and to secure for you in future life, such a measure of enjoyment, as can fall to the share of one, over whose prospects in another world there hangs so gloomy a cloud. I shall never reproach you, and perhaps may not even know what your choice is. Should you on the other hand prefer the peace and happiness of piety, and be willing to begin to walk in its paths, you will find many both among the teachers and pupils of the Mt. Vernon School to sympathize with you, and to encourage and help you on your way.

CHAPTER VII.
SCHEMING

The best teachers in our country, or rather those who might be the best, lose a great deal of their time, and endanger, or perhaps entirely destroy their hopes of success, by a scheming spirit, which is always reaching forward to something new. One has in his mind some new school book, by which Arithmetic, Grammar, or Geography are to be taught with unexampled rapidity, and his own purse to be filled, in a much more easy way, than by waiting for the rewards of patient industry. Another has the plan of a school, bringing into operation new principles of management or instruction, which he is to establish on some favored spot, and which is to become in a few years a second Hofwyl. Another has some royal road to learning, and though he is trammeled and held down by what he calls the ignorance and stupidity of his Trustees or his School Committee, yet if he could fairly put his principles and methods to the test, he is certain of advancing the science of Education half a century at least, at a single leap.

Ingenuity in devising new ways, and enterprise in following them, are among the happiest characteristics of a new country rapidly filling with a thriving population. Without these qualities there could be no advance; society must be stationary; and from a stationary to a retrograde condition, the progress is inevitable. The disposition to make improvements and changes may however be too great. If so, it must he checked. On the other hand a slavish attachment to old established practices may prevail. Then the spirit of enterprise and experiment must be awakened and encouraged. Which of these two is to be the duty of a writer at any time, will of course depend upon the situation of the community at the time he writes, and of the class of readers for which he takes his pen. Now at the present time, it is undoubtedly true, that, while among the great mass of teachers there may be too little originality and enterprise, there is still among many a spirit of innovation and change, to which a caution ought to be addressed. But before I proceed, let me protect myself from misconception by one or two remarks.

1. There are a few individuals in various parts of our country, who by ingenuity and enterprise, have made real and important improvements in many departments of our science, and are still making them. The science is to be carried forward by such men. Let them not therefore understand that any thing which I shall say, applies at all to those real improvements which are from time to time, brought before the public. As examples of this there might easily be mentioned, were it necessary, several new modes of study, and new text books, and literary institutions on new plans, which have been brought forward within a few years, and proved, on actual trial, to be of real and permanent value.

These are, or rather they were, when first conceived by the original projectors, new schemes; and the result has proved that they were good ones. Every teacher too must hope that such improvements will continue to be made. Let nothing therefore which shall be said on the subject of scheming in this chapter, be interpreted as intended to condemn real improvements of this kind, or to check those which may now be in progress, by men of age or experience, or of sound judgment, who are capable of distinguishing between a real improvement and a whimsical innovation, which can never live any longer than it is sustained by the enthusiasm of the original inventor.

2. There are a great many teachers in our country, who make their business a mere dull and formal routine, through which they plod on, month after month, and year after year, without variety or change, and who are inclined to stigmatize with the appellation of idle scheming, all plans, of whatever kind, to give variety or interest to the exercises of the school. Now whatever may be said in this chapter against unnecessary innovation and change, does not apply to efforts to secure variety in the details of daily study, while the great leading objects are steadily pursued. This subject has already been discussed in the chapter on Instruction, where it has been shown that every wise teacher, while he pursues the same great object, and adopts in substance the same leading measures at all times, will exercise all the ingenuity he possesses, and bring all his inventive powers into requisition to give variety and interest to the minute details.

To explain now what is meant by such scheming as is to be condemned, let us suppose a case, which is not very uncommon. A young man, while preparing for college, takes a school. When he first enters upon the duties of his office, he is diffident and timid, and walks cautiously in the steps which precedent has marked out for him. Distrusting himself, he seeks guidance in the example which others have set for him, and very probably he imitates precisely, though it may be insensibly and involuntarily, the manners and the plans of his own last teacher. This servitude soon however, if he is a man of natural abilities, passes away: he learns to try one experiment after another, until he insensibly finds that a plan may succeed, even if it was not pursued by his former teacher. So far it is well. He throws greater interest into his school, and into all its exercises by the spirit with which he conducts them. He is successful. After the period of his services has expired, he returns to the pursuit of his studies, encouraged by his success, and anticipating further triumphs in his subsequent attempts.

He goes on through college we will suppose, teaching from time to time in the vacations, as opportunity occurs, taking more and more interest in the employment, and meeting with greater and greater success. This success is owing in a very great degree to the freedom of his practice, that is to his escape from the thraldom of imitation. So long as he leaves the great objects of the school untouched, and the great features of its organization unchanged, his many plans for accomplishing these objects in new and various ways, awaken interest and spirit both in himself and in his scholars, and all goes on well.

Now in such a case as this, a young teacher philosophizing upon his success and the causes of it, will almost invariably make this mistake; viz., he will attribute to something essentially excellent in his plans, the success which, in fact results from the novelty of them.

When he proposes something new to a class, they all take an interest in it, because it is new. He takes, too, a special interest in it because it is an experiment which he is trying, and he feels a sort of pride and pleasure in securing its success. The new method which he adopts, may not be, in itself, in the least degree better than old methods. Yet it may succeed vastly better in his hands, than any old method he had tried before. And why? Why because it is new. It awakens interest in his class, because it offers them variety, and it awakens interest in him, because it is a plan which he has devised, and for whose success therefore he feels that his credit is at stake. Either of these circumstances is abundantly sufficient to account for its success. Either of these would secure success, unless the plan was a very bad one indeed.

This may easily be illustrated by supposing a particular case. The teacher has, we will imagine, been accustomed to teach spelling in the usual way, by assigning a lesson in the spelling book, which the scholars have studied in their seats, and then they have recited by having the words put to them individually in the class. After sometime, he finds that one class has lost its interest in this study. He can make them get the lesson it is true, but he perceives perhaps that it is a weary task to them. Of course they proceed with less alacrity, and consequently with less rapidity and success. He thinks, very justly, that it is highly desirable to secure cheerful, not forced, reluctant efforts from his pupils, and he thinks of trying some new plan. Accordingly he says to them,

"Boys, I am going to try a new plan for this class."

The mere annunciation of a new plan awakens universal attention. The boys all look up, wondering what it is to be.

"Instead of having you study your lessons in your seats, as heretofore, I am going to let you all go together into one corner of the room, and choose some one to read the lesson to you, spelling all the words aloud. You will all listen and endeavor to remember how the difficult ones are spelled. Do you think you can remember?"

"Yes, sir," say the boys. Children always think they can do every thing which is proposed to them as a new plan or experiment, though they are very often inclined to think they cannot do what is required of them as a task.

"You may have," continues the teacher, "the words read to you once, or twice, just as you please. Only if you have them read but once, you must take a shorter lesson."

He pauses and looks round upon the class. Some say, "Once," some, "Twice."

"I am willing that you should decide this question. How many are in favor of having shorter lessons, and having them read but once?–How many prefer longer lessons, and having them read twice?"

After comparing the numbers, it is decided according to the majority, and the teacher assigns, or allows them to assign a lesson.

"Now," he proceeds, "I am not only going to have you study in a different way, but recite in a different way too. You may take your slates with you, and after you have had time to hear the lesson read slowly and carefully twice, I shall come and dictate to you the words aloud, and you will all write them from my dictation. Then I shall examine your slates, and see how many mistakes are made."

Any class of boys now would be exceedingly interested in such a proposal as this, especially if the master's ordinary principles of government and instruction had been such, as to interest the pupils in the welfare of the school, and in their own progress in study. They will come together in the place assigned, and listen to the one who is appointed to read the words to them, with every faculty aroused, and their whole souls engrossed in the new duties assigned them. The teacher, too, feels a special interest in his experiment. Whatever else be may be employed about, his eye turns instinctively to this group, with an intensity of interest, which an experienced teacher who has long been in the field, and who has tried experiments of this sort a hundred times, can scarcely conceive. For let it be remembered that I am describing the acts and feelings of a new beginner; of one who is commencing his work, with a feeble and trembling step, and perhaps this is his first step from the beaten path in which he has been accustomed to walk.

This new plan is continued, we will suppose, a week, during which time the interest of the pupils continues. They get longer lessons, and make fewer mistakes than they did by the old method. Now in speculating on this subject, the teacher reasons very justly, that it is of no consequence whether the pupil receives his knowledge through the eye, or through the ear; whether they study in solitude or in company. The point is to secure their progress in learning to spell the words of the English language, and as this point is secured far more rapidly and effectually by his new method, the inference is to his mind very obvious, that he has made a great improvement,—one of real and permanent value. Perhaps he will consider it an extraordinary discovery.

But it would not be right for him, after his employer should have gone away, to say to himself, with a feeling of resentment at the imaginary interference; "I shall not follow any such directions; I understand my own trade and shall receive no instructions in it from him;" and then disobeying all directions, go on and do the work contrary to the orders of his employer, who alone has a right to decide.

And yet a great many teachers take a course as absurd and unjustifiable as this would be. Whenever the parents, or the committee, or the trustees express, however mildly and properly, their wishes in regard to the manner in which they desire to have their own work performed, their pride is at once aroused. They seem to feel it an indignity, to act in any other way, than just in accordance with their own will and pleasure; and they absolutely refuse to comply, resenting the interference as an insult. Or else, if they apparently yield, it is with mere cold civility, and entirely without any honest desires to carry the wishes thus expressed, into actual effect.

Parents may, indeed, often misjudge. A good teacher will, however, soon secure their confidence, and they will acquiesce in his opinion. But they ought to be watchful; and the teacher ought to feel and acknowledge their authority, on all questions connected with the education of their children. They have originally entire power in regard to the course which is to be pursued with them. Providence has made the parents responsible and wholly responsible for the manner in which their children are prepared for the duties of this life, and it is interesting to observe, how very cautious the laws of society are, about interfering with the parent's wishes, in regard to the education of the child. There are many cases, in which enlightened governments might make arrangements which would be better than those made by the parents, if they are left to themselves. But they will not do it; they ought not to do it. God has placed the responsibility in the hands of the father and mother, and unless the manner in which it is exercised is calculated to endanger or to injure the community, there can rightfully be no interference except that of argument and persuasion.

It ought also to be considered that upon the parents will come the consequences of the good or bad education of their children, and not upon the teacher, and consequently it is right that they should direct. The teacher remains, perhaps, a few months with his charge, and then goes to other places, and perhaps hears of them no more. He has thus very little at stake. The parent has every thing at stake, and it is manifestly unjust to give one man the power of deciding, while he escapes all the consequences of his mistakes, if he makes any, and to take away all the power from those, upon whose heads, all the suffering, which will follow an abuse of the power, must descend.

CHAPTER VIII.
REPORTS OF CASES

There is perhaps no way, by which a writer can more effectually explain his views on the subject of education, than by presenting a great variety of actual cases, whether real or imaginary, and describing particularly the course of treatment he would recommend in each. This method of communicating knowledge is very extensively resorted to in the medical profession, where writers detail particular cases, and report the symptoms and the treatment for each succeeding day, so that the reader may almost fancy himself actually a visiter at the sick bed, and the nature and effects of the various prescriptions become fixed in the mind, with almost as much distinctness and permanency as actual experience would give.

This principle has been kept in view, the reader may perhaps think, too closely, in all the chapters of this volume; almost every point brought up, having been illustrated by anecdotes and narratives. I propose, however, devoting one chapter now, to presenting a number of miscellaneous cases, without any attempt to arrange them. Sometimes the case will be merely stated, the reader being left to draw the inference; at others, such remarks will be added as the case suggests. All will however be intended to answer some useful purpose, either to exhibit good or bad management and its consequences, or to bring to view some trait of human nature, as it exhibits itself in children, which it may be desirable for the teacher to know. Let it be understood, however, that these cases are not selected with reference to their being strange, or extraordinary. They are rather chosen because they are common, i. e. they, or cases similar, will be constantly occurring to the teacher, and reading such a chapter will be the best substitute for experience which the teacher can have. Some are descriptions of literary exercises or plans which the reader can adopt in classes, or with a whole school; others are cases of discipline,—good or bad management, which the teacher can imitate or avoid. The stories are from various sources, and are the results of the experience of several individuals.

1. Hats and Bonnets. The master of a district school was accidentally looking out of the window one day, and he saw one of the boys throwing stones at a hat, which was put up for that purpose upon the fence. He said nothing about it at the time, but made a memorandum of the occurrence, that he might bring it before the school, at the proper time. When the hour, set apart for attending to the general business of the school, had arrived, and all were still, he said,

"I saw one of the boys throwing stones at a hat to-day, did he do right or wrong?"

There were one or two faint murmurs which sounded like "Wrong," but the boys generally made no answer.

"Perhaps it depends a little upon the question whose hat it was. Do you think it does depend upon that?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, suppose then it was not his own hat, and he was throwing stones at it without the owner's consent, would it be plain in that case, whether he was doing right or wrong?"

"Yes sir; wrong," was the universal reply.

"Suppose it was his own hat, would he have been right? Has a boy a right to do what he pleases with his own hat?"

"Yes sir," "Yes sir," "No sir," "No sir," answered the boys confusedly.

"I do not know whose hat it was. If the boy who did it is willing to rise and tell me, it will help us to decide this question."

The boy knowing that a severe punishment was not in such a case to be anticipated, and in fact, apparently pleased with the idea of exonerating himself from the blame of wilfully injuring the property of another, rose and said,

"I suppose it was I, sir, who did it, and it was my own hat?"

"Well," said the master, "I am glad you are willing to tell frankly how it was; but let us look at this case. There are two senses in which a hat may be said to belong to any person. It may belong to him because he bought it and paid for it, or it may belong to him because it fits him, and he wears it. In other words a person may have a hat, as his property, or he may have it only as a part of his dress. Now you see, that according to the first of these senses, all the hats in this school, belong to your fathers. There is not in fact a single boy in this school who has a hat of his own."

The boys laughed.

"Is not this the fact?"

"Yes sir."

"It certainly is so, though I suppose James did not consider it. Your fathers bought your hats. They worked for them, and paid for them. You are only the wearers, and consequently every generous boy, and in fact every honest boy, will be careful of the property which is intrusted to him, but which strictly speaking is not his own."

2. Mistakes. A wide difference must always be made between mistakes arising from carelessness, and those resulting from circumstances beyond control; such as want of sufficient data, &c. The former are always censurable; the latter never; for they may be the result of correct reasoning from insufficient data, and it is the reasoning only for which the child is responsible.

"What do you suppose a prophet is?" said an instructer to a class of little boys. The word occurred in their reading lesson.

The scholars all hesitated; at last one ventured to reply:

"If a man should sell a yoke of oxen, and get more for them than they are worth, he would be a prophet."

"Yes," said the instructer, "that is right, that is one kind of profit, but this is another and a little different," and he proceeded to explain the word, and the difference of the spelling.

This child had, without doubt, heard of some transaction of the kind which he described, and had observed that the word profit was applied to it. Now the care which he had exercised in attending to it at the time, and remembering it when the same word, (for the difference in the spelling he of course knew nothing about,) occurred again, was really commendable. The fact, which is a mere accident, that we affix very different significations to the same sound, was unknown. The fault, if anywhere, was in the language and not in him; for he reasoned correctly from the data he possessed, and he deserved credit for it.

3. Tardiness. "My duty to this school," said a teacher to his pupils, "demands, as I suppose you all admit, that I should require you all to be here punctually at the time appointed for the commencement of the school. I have done nothing on this subject yet, for I wished to see whether you would not come early, on principle. I wish now however to inquire in regard to this subject, and to ascertain how many have been tardy, and to consider what must be done hereafter."

He made the inquiries and ascertained pretty nearly how many had been tardy, and how often within a week.

The number was found to be so great, that the scholars admitted that something ought to be done.

"What shall I do?" asked he. "Can any one propose a plan which will remedy the difficulty?"

There was no answer.

Footnote:

The footnote anchor for the following footnote is missing in the text.

[D] The above, and one or two of the succeeding articles have been before published, in periodicals.

"The easiest and pleasantest way to secure punctuality, is for the scholars to come early of their own accord, upon principle. It is evident from the reports, that many of you do so; but some do not. Now there is no other plan which will not be attended with very serious difficulty, but I am willing to adopt the one which will be pleasantest to yourselves, if it will be likely to accomplish the object. Has any one any plan to propose."

There was a pause.

"It would evidently," continued the teacher, "be the easiest for me to leave this subject, and do nothing about it. It is of no personal consequence to me, whether you come early or not, but as long as I hold this office, I must be faithful, and I have no doubt the school committee, if they knew how many of you were tardy, would think I ought to do something to diminish the evil.

"The best plan I can think of, is that all who are tardy should lose their recess."

The boys looked rather anxiously at one another, but continued silent.

"There is a great objection to this plan from the fact that a boy is sometimes necessarily absent, and by this rule he will lose his recess with the rest, so that the innocent will be punished with the guilty."

"I should think, sir," said William, "that those who are necessarily tardy, might be excused."

"Yes, I should be very glad to excuse them, if I could find out who they are."

The boys seemed to be surprised at this remark, as if they thought it would not be a difficult matter to decide.

"How can I tell?" asked the master.

"You can hear their excuses, and then decide."

"Yes," said the teacher, "but here are fifteen or twenty boys tardy this morning; now how long would it take me to hear their excuses, and understand each case thoroughly, so that I could really tell whether they were tardy from good reasons or not?"

No answer.

"Should you not think it would take a minute apiece?"

"Yes sir."

"It would undoubtedly, and even then I could not in many cases tell. It would take fifteen minutes at least. I cannot do this in school-hours, for I have not time, and if I do it in recess, it will consume the whole of every recess. Now I need the rest of a recess, as well as you, and it does not seem to me to be just that I should lose the whole of mine, every day, and spend it in a most unpleasant business, when I take pains, myself, to come punctually every morning. Would it be just?"

"No sir."

"I think it would be less unjust to deprive all of their recess who are tardy, for then the loss of a recess by a boy who had not been to blame, would not be very common, and the evil would be divided among the whole, but in the plan of my hearing the excuses, it would all come upon one."

After a short pause one of the boys said that they might be required to bring written excuses.

"Yes that is another plan," said the teacher, "but there are objections to it. Can any of you think what they are? I suppose you have all been, either at this school, or at some other, required to bring written excuses, so that you have seen the plan tried; now have you never noticed any objection to it?"

One boy said that it gave the parents a great deal of trouble at home.

"Yes," said the teacher, "this is a great objection; it is often very inconvenient to write. But that is not the greatest difficulty; can any of you think of any other?"

There was a pause.

"Do you think that these written excuses are, after all, a fair test of the real reasons for tardiness? I understand that sometimes boys will tease their fathers or mothers for an excuse, when they do not deserve it, 'Yes sir,' and sometimes they will loiter about when sent of an errand before school, knowing that they can get a written excuse when they might easily have been punctual."

"Yes sir, Yes sir," said the boys.

"Well, now, if we adopt this plan, some unprincipled boy would always contrive to have an excuse, whether necessarily tardy or not; and besides, each parent would have a different principle and a different opinion as to what was a reasonable excuse, so that there would be no uniformity, and consequently no justice in the operation of the system."

The boys admitted the truth of this, and as no other plan was presented, the rule was adopted of requiring all those who were tardy, to remain in their seats during the recess, whether they were necessarily tardy or not. The plan very soon diminished the number of loiterers.

4. Helen's Lesson. The possibility of being inflexibly firm in measures, and at the same time gentle and mild in manners and language, is happily illustrated in the following description, which is based on an incident narrated by Mrs. Sherwood.

"Mrs. M. had observed even during the few days that Helen had been under her care, that she was totally unaccustomed to habits of diligence and application. After making all due allowance for long indulged habits of indolence and inattention, she one morning assigned an easy lesson to her pupil, informing her at the same time, that she should hear it immediately before dinner. Helen made no objections to the plan, but she silently resolved not to perform the required task. Being in some measure a stranger, she thought her aunt would not insist upon perfect obedience, and besides in her estimation, she was too old to be treated like a child.

"During the whole morning, Helen exerted herself to be mild and obliging; her conduct towards her aunt was uncommonly affectionate. By these, and various other artifices, she endeavored to gain her first victory. Meanwhile, Mrs. M. quietly pursued her various avocations, without apparently noticing Helen's conduct. At length dinner hour arrived; the lesson was called for, and found unprepared. Mrs. M. told Helen she was sorry she had not got the lesson, and went on to explain one or two sentences more fully, and concluded, by saying that she hoped it would be learned before tea-time.

"Helen, finding she was not to come to the table, began to be a little alarmed. She was acquainted in some measure with the character of her aunt, still she hoped to be allowed to partake of the dessert as she had been accustomed to on similar occasions at home, and soon regained her wonted composure. But the dinner cloth was removed, and there sat Helen, suffering not a little from hunger; still she would not complain; she meant to convince her aunt that she was not moved by trifles.

"A walk had been proposed for the afternoon, and as the hour drew near, Helen made preparations to accompany the party. Mrs. M. reminded her of her lesson, but she just noticed the remark by a toss of the head, and was soon in the green fields, apparently the gayest of the gay. After her return from the excursion, she complained of a head-ache which in fact she had; she threw herself languidly on the sofa, sighed deeply, and took up her History.

"Tea was now on the table, and most tempting looked the white loaf. Mrs. M. again heard the pupil recite, but was sorry to find the lesson still imperfectly prepared. She left her, saying she thought an half hour's study would conquer all the difficulties she found in the lesson.

"During all this time, Mrs. M. appeared so perfectly calm, composed, and even kind, and so regardless of sighs and doleful exclamations, that Helen entirely lost her equanimity and let her tears flow freely and abundantly. Her mother was always moved by her tears, and would not her aunt relent? No. Mrs. M. quietly performed the duties of the table, and ordered the tea-equipage to be removed. This latter movement brought Helen to reflection. It is useless to resist, thought she, indeed why should I wish to. Nothing too much has been required of me. How ridiculous I have made myself appear, in the eyes of my aunt, and even of the domestics.

"In less than an hour, she had the satisfaction of reciting her lesson perfectly; her aunt made no comments on the occasion, but assigned her the next lesson, and went on sewing. Helen did not expect this; she had anticipated a refreshing cup of tea, after the long siege. She had expected that even something nicer than usual would be necessary to compensate her for past sufferings. At length, worn out by long continued watching and fasting, she went to the closet, provided herself with a cracker, and retired to bed to muse deliberately on the strange character of her aunt.

"Teachers not unfrequently threaten their pupils with some proper punishment, but when obliged to put the threat into execution, contrive in some indirect way, to abate its rigor and thus destroy all its effects. For example, a mother was in the habit, when her little boy ran beyond his proscribed play-ground, of putting him into solitary confinement. On such occasions, she was very careful to have some amusing book, or diverting plaything in a conspicuous part of the room, and not unfrequently a piece of gingerbread was given to solace the runaway. The mother thought it very strange her little boy should so often transgress, when he knew what to expect from such a course of conduct. The boy was wiser than the mother; he knew perfectly well how to manage. He could play with the boys beyond the garden gate, and if detected, to be sure he was obliged to spend a quiet hour in the pleasant parlor. But this was not intolerable as long as he could expect a paper of sugar-plums, a cake, or at least something amply to compensate him for the loss of a game at marbles."

5. Complaints of Long Lessons. A college officer assigned lessons which the idle and ignorant members of the class thought too long. They murmured for a time, and at last openly complained. The other members of the class could say nothing in behalf of the professor, awed by the greatest of all fears to a collegian, the fear of being called a "fisher," or a "blueskin." The professor paid no attention to the petitions and complaints which were poured in upon him, and which, though originated by the idle, all were compelled to vote for. He coldly, and with uncompromising dignity, went on the excitement in the class increased, and what is called a college rebellion, with all its disastrous consequences to the infatuated rebels, ensued.

Another professor had the dexterity to manage in a different way. After hearing that there was dissatisfaction, he brought up the subject as follows:—

"I understand, gentlemen, that you consider your lessons too long. Perhaps I have overrated the abilities of the class, but I have not intended to assign you more than you can accomplish. I feel no other interest in the subject, than the pride and pleasure it would give me, to have my class stand high, in respect to the amount of ground it has gone over, when you come to examination. I propose, therefore, that you appoint a committee in whose abilities and judgment you can confide, and let them examine this subject and report. They might ascertain how much other classes have done, and how much is expedient for this class to attempt; and then, by estimating the number of recitations assigned to this study, they can easily determine what should be the length of the lessons."

The plan was adopted, and the report put an end to the difficulty.

6. English Composition. The great prevailing fault of writers in this country, is an affectation of eloquence. It is almost universally the fashion to aim not at striking thoughts, simply and clearly expressed, but at splendid language, glowing imagery, and magnificent periods. It arises, perhaps, from the fact that public speaking is the almost universal object of ambition, and consequently, both at school and at college, nothing is thought of but oratory. Vain attempts at oratory, result in nine cases out of ten, in grandiloquence and empty verbiage;—common thoughts expressed in pompous periods.

The teacher should guard against this, and assign to children such subjects as are within the field of childish observation. A little skill on his part will soon determine the question which kind of writing shall prevail in his school. The following specimens, both written with some skill, will illustrate the two kinds of writing alluded to. Both were written by pupils of the same age, twelve; one a boy, the other a girl. The subjects were assigned by the teacher. I need not say that the following was the writer's first attempt at composition, and that it is printed without alteration.

The Pains of a Sailor's Life.

The joyful sailor embarks on board of his ship, the sails are spread to catch the playful gale, swift as an arrow he cuts the rolling wave. A few days thus sporting on the briny wave, when suddenly the sky is overspread with clouds, the rain descends in torrents, the sails are lowered, the gale begins, the vessel is carried with great velocity, and the shrouds unable to support the tottering mast, gives way to the furious tempest; the vessel is drove among the rocks, is sprung aleak, the sailor works at the pumps, till, faint and weary, is heard from below, six feet of water in the hold, the boats are got ready, but before they are into them, the vessel dashed against a reef of rocks, some in despair throw themselves into the sea, others get on the rocks without any clothes or provisions, and linger a few days, perhaps weeks or months, living on shell fish or perhaps taken up by some ship. Others get on pieces of the wreck, and perhaps be cast on some foreign country, where perhaps he may be taken by the natives, and sold into slavery where he never more returns.

In regard to the following specimen, it should be stated that when the subject was assigned, the pupil was directed to see how precisely she could imitate the language and conversation which two little children really lost in the woods would use. While writing, therefore, her mind was in pursuit of the natural, and the simple, not of the eloquent.

Two Children lost in the Woods.

Emily. Look here! see how many berries I've got. I don't believe you've got so many.

Charles. Yes, I'm sure I have. My basket's most full; and if we hurry, we shall get ever so many before we go home. So pick away as fast as you can, Emily.

Emily. There mine is full. Now we'll go and find some flowers for mother. You know somebody told us there were some red ones, close to that rock.

Charles. Well, so we will. We'll leave our baskets here, and come back and get them.

Emily. But if we can't find our way back, what shall we do?

Charles. Poh! I can find the way back. I only want a quarter to seven years old, and I shan't lose myself, I know.

Emily. Well! we've got flowers enough, and now I'm tired and want to go home.

Charles. I don't, but if you are tired we'll go and find our baskets.

Emily. Where do you think they are? We've been looking a great while for them. I know we are lost, for when we went after the flowers we only turned once, and coming back, we have turned three times.

Charles. Have we? Well never mind, I guess we shall find them.

Emily. I'm afraid we shan't. Do let's run

Charles. Well so do. Oh, Emily! here's a brook, and I am sure we didn't pass any brook, going.

Emily. Oh, dear! we must be lost. Hark! Charles! didn't you hear that dreadful noise just now? Wasn't it a bear?

Charles. Poh! I should love to see a bear here. I guess if he should come near me, I would give him one good slap that would make him feel pretty bad. I could kill him at the first hit.

Emily. I should like to see you taking hold of a bear. Why didn't you know bears were stronger than men? But only see how dark it grows; we shan't see Ma' to-night, I'm afraid.

Charles. So am I: do let's run some more.

Emily. O Charles, do you believe we shall ever find the way out of this dreadful long wood?

Charles. Let's scream, and see if somebody wont come.

Emily. Well, (screaming) Ma'! Ma'!

Charles. (screaming also) Pa'! Pa'!

Emily. Oh, dear! there's the sun setting. It will be dreadfully dark by and by, won't it?

We have given enough for a specimen. The composition though faulty in many respects, illustrates the point we had in view.

7. Insincere Confession. An assistant in a school informed the Principal that she had some difficulty in preserving order in a certain class, composed of small children. The Principal accordingly went into the class, and something like the following dialogue ensued.

"Your teacher informs me," said the Principal, "that there is not perfect order in this class. Now if you are satisfied that there has not been order, and wish to help me discover and correct the fault, we can do it very easily. If, on the other hand, you do not wish to co-operate with me, it will be a little more difficult for me to correct it, and I must take a different course. Now I wish to know, at the outset, whether you do or do not wish to help me."

A faint "Yes sir," was murmured through the class.

"I do not wish you to assist me, unless you really and honestly desire it yourselves; and if you undertake to do it, you must do it honestly. The first thing which will be necessary, will be an open and thorough exposure of all which has been wrong, and this you know will be unpleasant. But I will put the question to vote, by asking how many are willing that I should know, entirely and fully, all that they have done in this class, that has been wrong."

Very nearly all the hands were raised at once, promptly, and the others were gradually brought up, though with more or less of hesitation.

"Are you willing, not only to tell me yourselves what you have done, but also, in case any one has forgotten something which she has done, that others should tell me of it?"

The hands were all raised.

After obtaining thus from the class a distinct and universal expression of willingness that all the facts should be made known, the Principal called upon all those who had any thing to state, to raise their hands, and those who raised them, had opportunity to say what they wished. A great number of very trifling incidents were mentioned, such as could not have produced any difficulty in the class, and consequently could not have been the real instances of disorder alluded to. Or at least, it was evident if they were, that in the statement, they must have been so palliated and softened, that a really honest confession had not been made. This result might in such a case, have been expected. Such is human nature, that in nine cases out of ten, unless such a result had been particularly guarded against, it would have inevitably followed.

Not only will such a result follow in individual cases like this, but unless the teacher watches and guards against it, it will grow into a habit. I mean boys will get a sort of an idea that it is a fine thing to confess their faults, and by a show of humility and frankness will deceive their teacher, and perhaps themselves, by a sort of acknowledgement, which in fact exposes nothing of the guilt which the transgressor professes to expose. A great many cases occur, where teachers are pleased with the confession of faults, and scholars perceive it, and the latter get into the habit of coming to the teacher, when they have done something which they think may get them into difficulty, and make a sort of half confession, which, by bringing forward every palliating circumstance, and suppressing every thing of different character, keeps entirely out of view all the real guilt of the transgression. The criminal is praised by the teacher for the frankness and honesty of the confession, and his fault is freely forgiven. He goes away therefore well satisfied with himself, when in fact he has been only submitting to a little mortification, voluntarily, to avoid the danger of a greater; much in the same spirit with that which leads a man to receive the small-pox by inoculation, to avoid the danger of taking it in the natural way.

The teacher who accustoms his pupils to confess their faults, voluntarily, ought to guard carefully against this danger. When such a case as the one just described occurs, it will afford a favorable opportunity of showing distinctly to pupils the difference between an honest and an hypocritical confession. In this instance; the teacher proceeded thus;

The reason then, that some of the class add so slowly, is not probably because they want skill and rapidity of execution, but became they work to a great disadvantage, by working in the wrong way. I have often been surprised at the dexterity and speed with which some scholars can count with their fingers, when adding, and yet they could not get through the sum very, quick—at least they would have done it in half the time, if the same effort had been made in travelling on a shorter road. We will therefore study the addition table now, in the class, before we go on any farther."

The foregoing narratives, it is hoped, may induce some of the readers of this book to keep journals of their own experiments, and of the incidents which may, from time to time come under their notice, illustrating the principles of education, or simply the characteristics and tendencies of the youthful mind. The business of teaching will excite interest and afford pleasure, just in proportion to the degree in which it is conducted by operations of mind upon mind, and the means of making it most fully so, are, careful practice, based upon, and regulated by, the results of careful observation. Every teacher then should make observations and experiments upon mind a part of his daily duty, and nothing will more facilitate this, than keeping a record of results. There can be no opportunity for studying human nature, more favorable than the teacher enjoys. The materials are all before him; his very business, from day to day, brings him to act directly upon them; and the study of the powers and tendencies of the human mind is not only the most interesting and the noblest that can engage human attention, but every step of progress he makes in it, imparts an interest and charm, to what would otherwise be a weary toil. It at once relieves his labors, while it doubles their efficiency and success.

CHAPTER IX.
THE TEACHER'S FIRST DAY

The teacher enters upon the duties of his office by a much more sudden transition than is common in the other avocations and employments of life. In ordinary cases, business comes at first by slow degrees, and the beginner is introduced to the labors and responsibilities of his employment, in a very gradual manner. The young teacher, however, enters, by a single step, into the very midst of his labors. Having, perhaps, never even heard a class recite before, he takes a short walk some winter morning, and suddenly finds himself instated at the desk,—his fifty scholars all around, looking him in the face, all waiting to be employed. Everything comes upon him at once. He can do nothing until the day and the hour for opening the school arrives,—then he has everything to do.

Under these circumstances it is not surprising that the young teacher should look forward with unusual solicitude to his first day in school; and he desires, ordinarily, special instructions in respect to this occasion. Some such special instructions we propose to give in this chapter. The experienced teacher may think some of them too minute and trivial. But he must remember that they are intended for the youngest beginner in the humblest school; and if he recalls to mind his own feverish solicitude on the morning when he went to take his first command in the district school, he will pardon the seeming minuteness of detail.

1. It will be well for the young teacher to take opportunity, between the time of his engaging his school and that of his commencing it,—to acquire as much information in respect to it, beforehand, as possible,—so as to be somewhat acquainted with the scene of his labors before entering upon it. Ascertain the names and the characters of the principal families in the district, their ideas and wishes in respect to the government of the school, the kind of management adopted by one or two of the last teachers, the difficulties they fell into, the nature of the complaints made against them, if any, and the families with whom difficulty has usually arisen. This information must of course be obtained in private conversation; a good deal of it must be, from its very nature, highly confidential; but it is very important that the teacher should be possessed of it. He will necessarily become possessed of it by degrees, in the course of his administration, when, however, it may be too late to be of any service to him. But by judicious and proper efforts to acquire it beforehand, he will enter upon the discharge of his duties with great advantage. It is like a navigator's becoming acquainted beforehand with the nature and the dangers of the sea over which he is about to sail.

Such inquiries as these will, in ordinary cases, bring to the teacher's knowledge, in most districts in our country, some cases of peculiarly troublesome scholars, or unreasonable and complaining parents,—and stories of their unjustifiable conduct on former occasions, will come to him; exaggerated by the jealousy of rival neighbours. There is danger that his resentment may be roused a little, and that his mind will assume a hostile attitude at once towards such individuals; so that he will enter upon his work rather with a desire to seek a collision with them, or at least with secret feelings of defiance towards them,—feelings which will lead to that kind of unbending perpendicularity in his demeanour towards them which will almost inevitably lead to a collision. Now this is wrong. There is indeed a point where firm resistance to unreasonable demands becomes a duty. But as a general principle it is most unquestionably true, that it is the teacher's duty to accommodate himself to the character and expectations of his employers, not to face and brave them. Those italicized words may be understood to mean something which would be entirely wrong; but in the sense in which I mean to use them, there can be no question that they indicate the proper path for one employed by others to do work for them, in all cases, to pursue. If therefore the teacher finds by his inquiries into the state of his district that there are some peculiar difficulties and dangers there, let him not cherish a disposition to face and resist them, but to avoid them. Let him go with an intention to soothe rather than to irritate feelings which have been wounded before,—to comply with the wishes of all so far as he can, even if they are not entirely reasonable,—and while he endeavours to elevate the standard and correct the opinions prevailing among his employers, by any means in his power, to aim at doing it gently; and in a tone and manner suitable to the relation he sustains;—in a word, let him skilfully avoid the dangers of his navigation, not obstinately run his ship against a rock on purpose, on the ground that the rock has no business to be there.

This is the spirit then with which these preliminary inquiries, in regard to the patrons of the school, ought to be made. We come now to a second point.

2. It will assist the young teacher very much in his first day's labors, if he takes measures for seeing and conversing with some of the older or more intelligent scholars, on the day or evening before he begins his school, with a view of obtaining from them some acquaintance with the internal arrangements and customs of the school. The object of this is to obtain the same kind of information with respect to the interior of the school, that was recommended in respect to the district, under the former head. He may call upon a few families, especially those which furnish a large number of scholars for the school, and make as many minute inquiries of them, as he can, respecting all the interior arrangements to which they have been accustomed; what reading books and other text books have been used,—what are the principal classes in all the several departments of instruction,—and what is the system of discipline, and of rewards and punishments to which the school has been accustomed.

If in such conversations the teacher should find a few intelligent and communicative scholars, he might learn a great deal about the past habits and condition of the school, which would be of great service to him. Not, by any means, that he will adopt and continue these methods as a matter of course,—but only that a knowledge of them will render him very important aid in marking out his own course. The more minute and full the information of this sort is which he thus obtains, the better. If practicable, it would be well to make out a catalogue of all the principal classes, with the names of those individuals belonging to them, who will probably attend the new school, and the order in which they were usually called upon to read or recite. The conversation which would be necessary to accomplish this, would of itself be of great service. It would bring the teacher into an acquaintance with several important families and groups of children, under the most favorable circumstances. The parents would see and be pleased with the kind of interest they would see the teacher taking in his new duties. The children would be pleased to be able to render their new instructer some service, and would go to the school-room on the next morning with a feeling of acquaintance with him, and a predisposition to be pleased. And if by chance any family should be thus called upon, that had heretofore been captious or complaining, or disposed to be jealous of the higher importance or influence of other families,—that spirit would be entirely softened and subdued by such an interview with their new instructer at their own fireside, on the evening preceding the commencement of his labors. The great object, however, which the teacher would have in view, in such inquiries, should be the value of the information itself. As to the use which he will make of it, we shall speak hereafter.

3. It is desirable that the young teacher should meet his scholars first in an unofficial capacity. For this purpose repair to the school-room, on the first day, at an early hour, so as to see and become acquainted with the scholars as they come in, one by one. The intercourse between teacher and pupil should be like that between parents and children, where the utmost freedom is united with the most perfect respect. The father who is most firm and decisive in his family government, can mingle most freely in the conversation and sports of his children without any derogation of his authority, or diminution of the respect they owe. Young teachers, however, are prone to forget this, and to imagine that they must assume an appearance of stern authority, always, when in the presence of their scholars, if they wish to be respected or obeyed. This they call keeping up their dignity. Accordingly they wait, on the morning of their induction into office, until their new subjects are all assembled, and then walk in with an air of the highest dignity, and with the step of a king. And sometimes a formidable instrument of discipline is carried in the hand to heighten the impression. Now there is no question that it is of great importance that scholars should have a high idea of the teacher's firmness and inflexible decision in maintaining his authority and repressing all disorder of every kind. But this impression should be created by their seeing how he acts, in the various emergencies which will spontaneously occur, and not by assumed airs of importance or dignity, feigned for effect. In other words, their respect for him should be based on real traits of character, as they see them brought out into natural action, and not on appearances assumed for the occasion.

It seems to me, therefore, that it is best for the teacher first to meet his scholars with the air and tone of free and familiar intercourse, and he will find his opportunity more favorable for doing this, if he goes early, on the first morning of his labors, and converses freely with those whom he finds there, and with others as they come in. He may take an interest with them in all the little arrangements connected with the opening of the school. The building of the fire, the paths through the snow, the arrangements of seats, calling upon them for information or aid, asking their names, and, in a word, entering fully and freely into conversation with them, just as a parent, under similar circumstances, would do with his children. All the children thus addressed will be pleased with the gentleness and affability of the teacher. Even a rough and ill-natured boy, who has perhaps come to the school with the express determination of attempting to make mischief, will be completely disarmed, by being asked pleasantly to help the teacher fix the fire, or alter the position of his desk. Thus by means of the half hour during which the scholars are coming together, and of the visits made in the preceding evening, as described under the last head, the teacher will find, when he calls upon the children to take their seats, that he has made a very large number of them his personal friends. Many of these will have communicated their first impressions to the others, so that he will find himself possessed, at the outset, of that which is of vital consequence in the opening of any administration,—a strong party in his favor.

4. The time for calling the school to order, and commencing exercises of some sort, will at length arrive, though if the work of making personal acquaintances is going on pleasantly, it may perhaps be delayed a little beyond the usual hour. When, however, the time arrives, we would strongly recommend that the first service by which the regular duties of the school are commenced should be an act of religious worship. There are many reasons why the exercises of the school should every day be thus commenced, and there are special reasons for it on the first day.

There are very few districts where parents would have any objection to this. They might indeed, in some cases, if the subject were to be brought up formally before them as a matter of doubt, anticipate some difficulties, or create imaginary ones, growing out of the supposed sensitiveness of contending sects. But if the teacher were, of his own accord, to commence the plain, faithful, and honest discharge of this duty as a matter of course, very few would think of making any objection to it; and almost all would be satisfied and pleased with its actual operation. If, however, the teacher should, in any case, have reason to believe that such a practice would be contrary to the wishes of his employers, it would, according to views we have presented in another chapter, be wrong for him to attempt to introduce it. He might, if he should see fit, make such an objection a reason for declining to take the school; but he ought not, if he takes it, to act counter to the known wishes of his employers, in so important a point. But if, on the other hand, no such objections are made known to him, he need not raise the question himself at all, but take it for granted that in a Christian land there will be no objection to imploring the divine protection and blessing at the opening of a daily school.

If this practice is adopted, it will have a most powerful influence upon the moral condition of the school. It must be so. Though many will be inattentive, and many utterly unconcerned,—yet it is not possible to bring children, even in form, into the presence of God every day, and to utter in their hearing the petitions, which they ought to present, without bringing a powerful element of moral influence to bear upon their hearts. The good will be made better,—the conscientious more conscientious still,—and the rude and savage will be subdued and softened by the daily attempt to lead them to the throne of their Creator. To secure this effect, the devotional service must be an honest one. There must be nothing feigned or hypocritical; no hackneyed phrases used without meaning, or intonations of assumed solemnity. It must be honest, heartfelt, simple prayer; the plain and direct expression of such sentiments as children ought to feel, and of such petitions as they ought to offer. We shall speak presently of the mode of avoiding some abuses to which this exercise is liable; but if these sources of abuse are avoided, and the duty is performed in that plain, simple, direct, and honest manner, in which it certainly will be, if it springs from the heart, it must have a great influence on the moral progress of the children, and in fact in all respects on the prosperity of the school.

But then independently of the advantages which may be expected to result from the practice of daily prayer in school,—it would seem to be the imperious duty of the teacher to adopt it. So many human minds committed thus to the guidance of one,—at a period when the character receives so easily and so permanently its shape and direction,—and in a world of probation like this, is an occasion which seems to demand the open recognition of the hand of God on the part of any individual to whom such a trust is committed. The duty springs so directly out of the attitude in which the teacher and pupil stand in respect to each other, and the relation they together bear to the Supreme, that it would seem impossible for any one to hesitate to admit the duty, without denying altogether the existence of a God.

How vast the responsibility of giving form and character to the human soul! How mighty the influence of which the unformed minds of a group of children are susceptible! How much their daily teacher must inevitably exert upon them! If we admit the existence of God at all, and that he exerts any agency whatever in the moral world which he has produced, here seems to be one of the strongest cases in which his intervention should be sought. And then when we reflect upon the influence which would be exerted upon the future religious character of this nation, by having the millions of children training up in the schools, accustomed, through all the years of early life, to being brought daily into the presence of the Supreme, with thanksgiving, confession, and prayer, it can hardly seem possible that the teacher who wishes to be faithful in his duties, should hesitate in regard to this. Some teacher may, perhaps, say that he cannot perform it because he is not a religious man;—he makes no pretensions to piety. But this can surely be no reason. He ought to be a religious man, and his first prayer offered in school may be the first act by which he becomes so. Entering the service of Jehovah is a work which requires no preliminary steps. It is to be done at once, by sincere confession, and an honest prayer for forgiveness for the past, and strength for time to come. A daily religious service in school may be, therefore, the outward act by which he, who has long lived without God, may return to his duty.

If, from such considerations, the teacher purposes to have a daily religious service in his school, he should by all means begin on the first day,—and when he first calls his school to order. He should mention to his pupils the great and obvious duty of imploring God's guidance and blessing in all their ways, and then read a short portion of Scripture, with an occasional word or two of simple explanation, and offer, himself, a short and simple prayer. In some cases, teachers are disposed to postpone this duty a day or two, from timidity or other causes, hoping that after becoming acquainted a little with the school, and having completed their more important arrangements, they shall find it easier to begin. But this is a sad mistake. The longer it is postponed, the more difficult and trying it will be. And then the moral impressions will be altogether more strong and salutary, if an act of solemn religious worship is made the first opening act of the school.

Where the teacher has not sufficient confidence that the general sense of propriety among his pupils will preserve good order and decorum during the exercise, it may be better for him to read a prayer, selected from books of devotion, or prepared by himself expressly for the occasion. By this plan his school will be, during the exercise, under his own observation as at other times. It may, in some schools, where the number is small, or the prevailing habits of seriousness and order are good, be well to allow the older scholars to read the prayer in rotation, taking especial care that it does not degenerate into a mere reading exercise; but that it is understood, both by readers and hearers, to be a solemn act of religious worship. In a word, if the teacher is really honest and sincere in his wish to lead his pupils to the worship of God, he will find no serious difficulty in preventing the abuses and avoiding the dangers which some might fear, and in accomplishing vast good, both in promoting the prosperity of the school, and in the formation of the highest and best traits a individual character.

We have dwelt, perhaps, longer on this subject than we ought to have done in this place; but its importance, when viewed in its bearings on the thousands of children daily assembling in our district schools, must be our apology. The embarrassments and difficulties arising from the extreme sensitiveness which exists among the various denominations of Christians in our land, threaten to interfere very seriously with giving a proper degree of religious instruction to the mass of the youthful population. But we must not, because we have no national church, cease to have a national religion. All our institutions ought to be so administered as openly to recognise the hand of God, and to seek his protection and blessing; and in regard to none is it more imperiously necessary than in respect to our common schools.

5. After the school is thus opened, the teacher will find himself brought to the great difficulty which embarrasses the beginning of his labors, i. e. how to find immediate employment at once, for the thirty or forty children who all look up to him waiting for their orders. I say thirty or forty, for the young teacher's first school will usually be a small one. His object, I think, should be, in all ordinary cases, for the first few days, twofold. First, to revive and restore, in the main, the general routine of classes and exercises pursued by his predecessor in the same school. And secondly, while doing this, to become as fully acquainted with his scholars as possible.

It is best then, ordinarily, for the teacher to begin the school as his predecessor closed it, and make the transition to his own perhaps more improved method, a gradual one. In some cases a different course is wise undoubtedly,—as, for example, where a teacher is commencing a private school, on a previously well-digested plan of his own,—or where one who has had experience, and has confidence in his power to bring his new pupils promptly and at once into the system of classification and instruction which he prefers. It is difficult however to do this, and requires a good deal of address and decision; it is far easier and safer, and in almost all cases, better in every respect for a young teacher to revive and restore the former arrangements in the main, and take his departure from them. He may afterwards make changes, as he may find them necessary or desirable, and even bring the school soon into a very different state from that in which he finds it; but it will generally be more pleasant for himself, and better for the school, to avoid the shock of a sudden and entire revolution.

The first thing then, when the scholars are ready to be employed, is to set them at work, in classes or upon lessons, as they would have been employed had the former teacher continued in charge of the school. To illustrate clearly how this may be done, we may give the following dialogue.

Teacher. "Can any one of the boys inform me what was the first lesson that the former master used to hear in the morning?"

The boys are silent, looking to one another.

Teacher. "Did he hear any recitation immediately after school began?"

Boys;—faintly and with hesitation. "No sir."

Teacher. "How long was it before he began to hear lessons?"

Several boys simultaneously. "About half an hour." "A little while." "Quarter of an hour."

"What did he do at this time?"

"Mended pens." "Set copies." "Looked over sums," and various other answers are perhaps given.

The teacher then makes a memorandum of this, and then inquires;

"And what lesson came after this?"

"Geography."

"All the boys in this school who studied geography may rise."

A considerable number rise.

"Did you all recite together?"

"No sir."

"There are two classes then?"

"Yes sir." "Yes sir." "More than two."

"All who belong to the class that recites first in the morning may remain standing; the rest may sit."

The boys obey, and eight or ten of them remain standing. The teacher calls upon one of them to produce his book, and assigns them a lesson, in regular course. He then requests some one of the number to write out, in the course of the day, a list of the class, and to bring it with him to the recitation the next morning.

"Are there any other scholars in the school who think it would be well for them to join this class?"

In answer to this question probably some new scholars might perhaps rise, or some hitherto belonging to other classes, who might be of suitable age and qualifications to be transferred. If these individuals should appear to be of the proper standing and character, they might at once be joined to the class in question, and directed to take the same lesson.

In the same manner the other classes would pass in review before the teacher; and he would obtain a memorandum of the usual order of exercises, and in a short time set all his pupils at work preparing for the lessons of the next day. He would be much aided in this by the previous knowledge which he would have obtained by private conversation, as recommended under a former head. Some individual cases would require a little special attention, such as new scholars; small children, &c.; but he would be able, before a great while, to look around him and see his whole school busy with the work he had assigned them, and his own time for the rest of the morning, in a great degree, at his own command.

I ought to say, however, that it is not probable that he would long continue these arrangements unaltered. In hearing the different classes, he would watch for opportunities for combining them, or discontinuing those where the number was small,—he would alter the times of recitation, and group individual scholars into classes, so as to bring the school, in a very short time, into a condition corresponding more nearly with his own views. All this can be done very easily and pleasantly when the wheels are once in motion; for a school is like a ship in one respect,—most easily steered in the right direction, when under sail.

By this plan also the teacher obtains what is almost absolutely necessary at the commencement of his labors, time for observation. It is of the first importance that he should become acquainted, as early as possible, with the characters of the boys, especially to learn who those are which are most likely to be troublesome. There always will be a few, who will require special watch and care, and generally there will be only a few. A great deal depends on finding these individuals out, in good season, and bringing the pressure of a proper authority to bear upon them soon. By the plan I have recommended, of not attempting to remodel the school wholly at once, the teacher obtains time for noticing the pupils, and learning something about their individual characters. In fact, so important is this, that it is the plan of some teachers, whenever they commence a new school, to let the boys have their own way, almost entirely, for a few days, in order to find out fully who the idle and mischievous are. This is perhaps going a little too far; but it is certainly desirable to enjoy as many opportunities for observation as can be secured on the first few days of the school.

6. Make it then a special object of attention, during the first day or two, to discover who the idle and mischievous individuals are. They will have generally seated themselves together in little knots, for as they are aware that the new teacher does not know them, they will imagine that, though perhaps separated before, they can now slip together again, without any trouble. It is best to avoid, if possible, an open collision with any of them at once, in order that they may be the better observed. Whenever, therefore, you see idleness or play, endeavour to remedy the evil for the time, by giving the individual something special to do, or by some other measure, without however seeming to notice the misconduct. Continue thus adroitly to stop every thing disorderly, while at the same time you notice and remember where the tendencies to disorder exist.

By this means the individuals who would cause most of the trouble and difficulty in the discipline of the school will soon betray themselves, and those too, whose fidelity and good behaviour can be relied upon, will also be known. The names of the former should be among the first which the teacher learns, and their characters should be among the first which he studies. The most prominent among them, those apparently most likely to make trouble, he should note particularly, and make inquiries out of school respecting them,—their characters,—their education at home, &c., so as to become acquainted with them as early and as fully as possible;—for he must have this full acquaintance with them before he is prepared to commence any decided course of discipline with them. The teacher often does irreparable injury by rash action at the outset. He sees, for instance, a boy secretly eating an apple which he has concealed in his hand, and which he bites, with his book before his mouth, or his head under the lid of his desk. It is perhaps the first day of the school, and the teacher thinks he had better make an example at the outset, and calls the boy out, knowing nothing about his general character, and inflicts some painful or degrading punishment before all the school. A little afterwards, as he becomes gradually acquainted with the boy, he finds that he is of mild, gentle disposition, generally obedient and harmless, and that his offence was only an act of momentary thoughtlessness, arising from some circumstances of peculiar temptation at the time, a boy in the next seat perhaps had just before handed him the apple. The teacher regrets, when too late, the hasty punishment. He perceives that instead of having the influence of salutary example upon the other boys, it must have shocked their sense of justice, and excited dislike towards a teacher so quick and severe, rather than of fear of doing wrong themselves. It would be safer to postpone such decided measures a little,—to avoid all open collisions if possible for a few days. In such a case as the above, the boy might be kindly spoken to in an under-tone, in such a way as to show both the teacher's sense of the impropriety of disorder, and also his desire to avoid giving pain to the boy. If it then turns out that the individual is ordinarily a well-disposed boy, all is right, and if he proves to be habitually disobedient and troublesome, the lenity and forbearance exercised at first, will facilitate the effect aimed at by subsequent measures. Avoid then, for the few first days, all open collision with any of your pupils, that you may have opportunity for minute and thorough observation.