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Title: The Teacher - Or, Moral Influences Employed in the Instruction and - Government of the Young
Author: Abbott, Jacob, 1803-1879
Language: English
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Chapter IX is the additional chapter on "The First Day in School"
mentioned on the title page. There is no entry in the Table of Contents
for this chapter.
* * * * *
THE TEACHER:
Instruction and Government
of the Young.
New Stereotype Edition;
With an
Additional Chapter on "The First Day in School."
* * * * *
By JACOB ABBOTT,
Late Principal of the Mt. Vernon Female School, Boston, Mass.
* * * * *
BOSTON:
PUBLISHED BY WHIPPLE AND DAMRELL,
No. 9 CORNHILL.
1839.
* * * * *
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1839, by
JACOB ABBOTT,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court
of the District of Massachusetts.
* * * * *
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.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.--INTEREST IN TEACHING.
Source of enjoyment in teaching. The boy and the steam engine. His
contrivance. His pleasure, and the source of it. Firing at the
mark. Plan of clearing the galleries in the British House Of
Commons. Pleasure of experimenting, and exercising intellectual and
moral power. The indifferent, and inactive teacher. His subsequent
experiments; means of awakening interest. Offences of pupils.
Different ways of regarding them.
Teaching really attended with peculiar trials and difficulties. 1.
Moral responsibility for the conduct of pupils. 2. Multiplicity of
the objects of attention. Page 11
CHAPTER II.--GENERAL ARRANGEMENTS.
Objects to be aimed at, in the General Arrangements. Systematising
the teacher's work. Necessity of having only one thing to attend to
at a time.
1. Whispering and leaving seats. An experiment. Method of
regulating this. Introduction of the new plan. Difficulties.
Dialogue with pupils. Study card. Construction and use.
2. Mending pens. Unnecessary trouble from this source. Degree of
importance to be attached to good pens. Plan for providing them.
3. Answering questions. Evils. Each pupil's fair proportion of
time. Questions about lessons. When the teacher should refuse to
answer them. Rendering assistance. When to be refused.
4. Hearing recitations. Regular arrangement of them. Punctuality.
Plan and schedule. General Exercises. Subjects to be attended to at
them.
General arrangements of Government. Power to be delegated to
pupils. Gardiner Lyceum. Its government. The trial. Real republican
government impracticable in schools. Delegated power. Experiment
with the writing books. Quarrel about the nail. Offices for pupils.
Cautions. Danger of insubordination. New plans to be introduced
gradually. 29
CHAPTER III.--INSTRUCTION.
The three important branches. The objects which are really most
important. Advanced scholars. Examination of school and scholars at
the outset. Acting on numbers. Extent to which it may be carried.
Recitation and Instruction.
1. Recitation. Its object. Importance of a thorough examination of
the class. Various modes. Perfect regularity and order necessary.
Example. Story of the pencils. Time wasted by too minute an
attention to individuals. Example. Answers given simultaneously to
save time. Excuses. Dangers in simultaneous recitation. Means of
avoiding them. Advantages of this mode. Examples. Written answers.
2. Instruction. Means of exciting interest. Variety. Examples.
Showing the connexion between the studies of school and the
business of life. Example, from the controversy between General and
State Governments. Mode of illustrating it. Proper way of meeting
difficulties. Leading pupils to surmount them. True way to
encourage the young to meet difficulties. The boy and the
wheelbarrow. Difficult examples in Arithmetic.
Proper way of rendering assistance. (1.) Simply analyzing intricate
subjects. Dialogue on longitude. (2.) Making previous truths
perfectly familiar. Experiment with the Multiplication table. Latin
Grammar lesson. Geometry.
3. General cautions. Doing work for the scholar. Dulness. Interest
in all the pupils. Making all alike. Faults of pupils. The
teacher's own mental habits. False pretensions. 64
CHAPTER IV.--MORAL DISCIPLINE.
First impressions. Story. Danger of devoting too much attention to
individual instances. The profane boy. Case described. Confession
of the boys. Success. The untidy desk. Measures in consequence.
Interesting the scholars in the good order of the school. Securing
a majority. Example. Reports about the desks. The new College
building. Modes of interesting the boys. The irregular class. Two
ways of remedying the evil. Boys' love of system and regularity.
Object of securing a majority, and particular means of doing it.
Making school pleasant. Discipline should generally be private. In
all cases that are brought before the school, public opinion in the
teacher's favor should be secured. Story of the rescue. Feelings of
displeasure against what is wrong. The teacher under moral
obligation, and governed, himself, by law. Description of the
_Moral Exercise_. Prejudice. The scholars' written remarks, and the
teacher's comments. The spider. List of subjects. Anonymous
writing. Specimens. Marks of a bad scholar. Consequences of being
behindhand. New scholars. A Satirical spirit. Variety.
Treatment of individual offenders. Ascertaining who they are.
Studying their characters. Securing their personal attachment.
Asking assistance. The whistle. Open, frank dealing. Example.
Dialogue with James. Communications in writing. 105
CHAPTER V.--RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE.
The American mechanic at Paris. A congregational teacher among
Quakers. Parents have the ultimate right to decide how their
children shall be educated.
Agreement in religious opinion, in this country. Principle which is to
guide the teacher on this subject. Limits and restrictions to religious
influence in school. Religious truths which are generally admitted in
this country. The existence of God. Human responsibility. Immortality of
the soul. A revelation. Nature of piety. Salvation by Christ. Teacher to
do nothing on this subject but what he may do by the common consent of
his employers. Reasons for explaining distinctly these limits.
Particular measures proposed. Opening exercises. Prayer. Singing.
Direct instruction. Mode of giving it. Example; arrangement of the
Epistles in the New Testament. Dialogue. Another example; scene in
the woods. Cautions. Affected simplicity of language. Evils of it.
Minute details. Example; motives to study. Dialogue. Mingling
religious influence with the direct discipline of the school.
Fallacious indications of piety. Sincerity of the Teacher. 152
CHAPTER VI.--MT. VERNON SCHOOL.
Reason for inserting the description. Advantage of visiting
schools; and of reading descriptions of them. Addressed to a new
scholar.
1. Her personal duty. Study card. Rule. But one rule. Cases when
this rule may be waived. 1. At the direction of teachers. 2. On
extraordinary emergencies. Reasons for the rule. Anecdote.
Punishments. Incident described. Confession.
2. Order of Daily Exercises. Opening of the school. Schedules.
Hours of study and recess. General Exercises. Business. Examples.
Sections.
3. Instruction and supervision of pupils. Classes. Organization.
Sections. Duties of superintendents.
4. Officers. Design in appointing them. Their names and duties.
Example of the operation of the system.
5. The Court. Its plan and design. A trial described.
6. Religious Instruction. Principles inculcated. Measures.
Religious exercises in school. Meeting on Saturday afternoon.
Concluding remarks. 181
CHAPTER VII.--SCHEMING.
Time lost upon fruitless schemes. Proper province of ingenuity and
enterprise. Cautions. Case supposed. The spelling class; an
experiment with it; its success and its consequences. System of
literary institutions in this country. Directions to a young
teacher on the subject of forming new plans. New institutions; new
school books. Ingenuity and enterprise very useful, within proper
limits. Ways of making known new plans. Periodicals. Family
newspapers. Teacher's meetings.
Rights of Committees, Trustees, or Patrons, in the control of the
school. Principle which ought to govern. Case supposed. Extent to
which the teacher is bound by the wishes of his employers. 221
CHAPTER VIII.--REPORTS OF CASES.
Plan of the Chapter. Hats and Bonnets. Injury to clothes. Mistakes
which are not censurable. Tardiness; plan for punishing it. Helen's
lesson. Firmness in measures united with mildness of manner.
Insincere confession: scene in a class. Court. Trial of a case.
Teacher's personal character. The way to elevate the character of
the employment. Six hours only to be devoted to school. The
Chestnut Burr. Scene in the wood. Dialogue in school. An
experiment. Series of Lessons in writing. The correspondence. Two
kinds of management. Plan of weekly reports. The shopping exercise.
Example. Artifices in Recitations. Keeping Resolutions; notes of
Teacher's Lecture. Topics. Plan and illustration of the exercise.
Introduction of music. Tabu. Mental Analysis. Scene in a class. 242
THE TEACHER.
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.
All however, should be done in a pleasant tone, and with a pleasant and
cheerful air. It should be considered by the pupils, not a reluctant
confession of guilt, for which they are to be rebuked or punished, but
the voluntary and free report of the result of an _experiment_, in which
all are interested.
Some will have been dishonest in their reports: to diminish the number
of these, the teacher may say, after the report is concluded:
"We will drop the subject here to-day. To-morrow we will make another
effort, when we shall be more successful. I have taken your reports as
you have offered them, without any inquiry, because I had no doubt, that
a great majority of this school would be honest, at all hazards. They
would not, I am confident, make a false report, even if, by a true one,
they were to bring upon themselves punishment; so that I think I may
have confidence that nearly all these reports have been faithful. Still,
it is very probable, that, among so large a number, some may have made a
report, which, they are now aware, was not perfectly fair and honest. I
do not wish to know who they are; if there are any such cases, I only
wish to say to the rest, how much pleasanter it is for you that you have
been honest and open. The business is now all ended; you have done your
duty; and though you reported a little larger number than you would, if
you had been disposed to conceal, yet you go away from school with a
quiet conscience. On the other hand, how miserable must any boy feel, if
he has any nobleness of mind whatever, to go away from school, to-day,
thinking that he has not been honest; that he has been trying to conceal
his faults, and thus to obtain a credit which he did not justly deserve.
Always be honest, let the consequence be what it may."
The reader will understand that the object of such measures is, simply
_to secure as large a majority as possible_, to make _voluntary_ efforts
to observe the rule. I do not expect that by such measures, _universal_
obedience can be exacted. The teacher must follow up the plan, after a
few days, by other measures, for those who will not yield to such
inducements as these. Upon this subject, however, I shall speak more
particularly at a future time.
In my own school, it required two or three weeks to exclude whispering
and communication by signs. The period necessary to effect the
revolution will be longer or shorter, according to the circumstances of
the school, and the dexterity of the teacher; and, after all, the
teacher must not hope _entirely_ to exclude it. Approximation to
excellence is all that we can expect; for unprincipled and deceiving
characters will perhaps always be found, and no system whatever can
prevent their existence. Proper treatment may indeed be the means of
their reformation, but before this process has arrived at a successful
result, others similar in character will have entered, so that the
teacher can never expect perfection in the operation of any of his
plans.
I found so much relief from the change which this plan introduced, that
I soon took measures for rendering it permanent; and though I am not
much in favor of efforts to bring all teachers and all schools to the
same plans, this principle of _whispering at limited and prescribed
times alone_, seems to me well suited to universal adoption.
The following simple apparatus has been used in several schools where
this principle has been adopted. A drawing and description of it is
inserted here, as by this means, some teachers, who may like to try the
course here recommended, may be saved the time and trouble of contriving
something of the kind themselves.
The figure _a a a a_ is a board, about 18 inches by 12, to which the
parts are to be attached, and which is to be nailed against the wall, at
the height of about 8 feet, _b c d c_ is a plate of tin or brass, 8
inches by 12, of the form represented in the drawing. At _c c_, the
lower extremities of the parts at the sides, the metal is bent round, so
as to clasp a wire which runs from _c_ to _c_, the ends of which wire
are bent at right angles and run into the board. The plate will
consequently turn on this axis, as on a hinge. At the top of the plate
_d_, a small projection of the tin turns inwards, and to this, one end
of the cord _m m_ is attached. This cord passes back from _d_ to _a_
small pulley at the upper part of the board, and at the tower end of it
a tassel, loaded so as to be an exact counterpoise to the card, is
attached. By raising the tassel, the plate will of course fall over
forward till it is stopped by the part _b_ striking the board, when it
will be in a horizontal position. On the other hand, by pulling down the
tassel, the plate will be raised and drawn upwards against the board, so
as to present its convex surface, with the words STUDY HOURS upon it,
distinctly to the school. In the drawing it is represented in an
inclined position, being not quite drawn up, that the parts might more
easily be seen. At _d_, there is a small projection of the tin upwards,
which touches the clapper of the bell suspended above, every time the
plate passes up or down, and thus give notice of its motions.
[Illustration]
Of course the construction may be varied very much, and it may be more
or less expensive, according to the wishes of the teacher. In the first
apparatus of this kind which I used, the plate was simply a card of
pasteboard, from which the machine took its name. This was cut out with
a penknife, and after being covered with marble paper, a strip of white
paper was pasted along the middle, with the inscription upon it. The
wire _c c_ and a similar one at the top of the plate, were passed
through a perforation in the pasteboard, and then passed into the
board. Instead of a pulley, the cord, which was a piece of twine, was
passed through a little staple made of wire and driven into the board.
The whole was made in one or two recesses in school, with such tools and
materials as I could then command. The bell was a common table bell,
with a wire passing through the handle. The whole was attached to such a
piece of pine board as I could get on the occasion. This coarse
contrivance was, for more than a year, the grand regulator of all the
movements of the school.
I afterwards had one made in a better manner. The plate is of tin,
gilded, the border and the letters of the inscription being black. A
parlor bell rope passes over a brass pulley, and then runs downward in a
groove made in the mahogany board to which the card is attached.
A little reflection will, however, show the teacher that the form and
construction of the apparatus for marking the times of study and of
rest, may be greatly varied. The chief point is simply to secure the
_principle_, of whispering at definite and limited times, and at those
alone. If such an arrangement is adopted, and carried faithfully into
effect, it will be found to relieve the teacher of more than half of the
confusion and perplexity, which would otherwise be his hourly lot. I
have detailed thus particularly the method to be pursued in carrying
this principle into effect, because I am convinced of its importance,
and the incalculable assistance which such an arrangement will afford to
the teacher in all his plans. Of course, I would not be understood to
recommend its adoption, in those cases, where, teachers, from their own
experience, have devised and adopted _other_ plans, which accomplish as
effectually the same purpose. All that I mean, is to insist upon the
absolute necessity of _some_ plan, to remove this very common source of
interruption and confusion, and I recommend this mode where a better is
not known.
2. The second of the sources of interruption, as I have enumerated them,
is mending pens. This business ought, if possible, to have a specific
time assigned to it. Scholars are in general far too particular in
regard to their pens. The teacher ought to explain to them that, in the
transaction of the ordinary business of life, they cannot, always, have
exactly such a pen as they would like. They must learn to write with
various kinds of pens, and when furnished with one that the teacher
himself would consider suitable to write a letter to a friend with, he
must be content. They should understand that the _form_ of the letters
is what is important in learning to write, not the smoothness and
clearness of the hair lines; and that though writing looks better, when
executed with a perfect pen, a person may _learn_ to write, nearly as
well with one, which is not absolutely perfect. So certain is this,
though often overlooked, that a person would perhaps learn faster with
chalk upon a black board, than with the best goose-quill ever sharpened.
I do not make these remarks to show that it is of no consequence,
whether scholars have good or bad pens, but only that this subject
deserves very much less of the time and attention of the teacher,
than it usually receives. When the scholars are allowed, as they
very generally are, to come, when they please, to present their
pens, some four, five or six times in a day--breaking in upon any
business--interrupting any classes--perplexing and embarrassing the
teacher, however he may be employed,--there is a very serious
obstruction to the progress of the scholars, which is by no means
repaid by the improvement in this branch.
There are several ways by which this evil may be remedied, or at least
be very effectually curtailed. Some teachers take their pens with them,
and mend them in the evening at home. For various reasons, this cannot
always be practised. There may, however, be a time set apart in the
school specially for this purpose. But the best plan is, for the teacher
not to mend the pens himself.
Let him choose from among the older and more intelligent of his
scholars, four or five, whom he will teach. They will be very glad to
learn, and to mend every day twenty-five or fifty pens each. Very little
ingenuity will be necessary to devise some plan, by which the scholars
may be apportioned among these, so that each shall supply a given
number, and the teacher be relieved entirely.
3. Answering questions about studies. A teacher who does not adopt some
system in regard to this subject, will be always at the mercy of his
scholars. One boy will want to know how to parse a word, another where
the lesson is, another to have a sum explained, and a fourth will wish
to show his work, to see if it is right. The teacher does not like to
discourage such inquiries. Each one, as it comes up, seems necessary:
each one too is answered in a moment; but the endless number, and the
continual repetition of them consume his time and exhaust his patience.
There is another view of the subject, which ought to be taken. Perhaps
it would not be far from the truth, to estimate the average number of
scholars in the schools in our country, at fifty. At any rate, this will
be near enough for our present purpose. There are three hours in each
session, making one hundred and eighty minutes, which, divided among
fifty, give about three minutes and a half to each individual. If the
reader has, in his own school, a greater or a less number, he can easily
correct the above, so as to adapt it to his own case, and ascertain the
portion, which may justly be appropriated to each pupil. It will
probably vary from two to four minutes. Now a period of four minutes
slips away very fast while a man is looking over perplexing problems,
and if he exceeds that time at all, he is doing injustice to his other
pupils. I do not mean that a man is to confine himself, rigidly, to the
principle suggested by this calculation, of cautiously appropriating no
more time to any one of his pupils, than such a calculation would assign
to each; but simply that this is a point which should be kept in view,
and have a very strong influence in deciding how far it is right to
devote attention, exclusively, to individuals. It seems to me that it
shows very clearly, that one ought to teach his pupils, as much as
possible, _in masses_, and as little as possible, by private attention
to individual cases.
The following directions will help the teacher to carry these
principles into effect. When you assign a lesson, glance over it
yourself, and consider what difficulties are likely to arise. You know
the progress which your pupils have made, and can easily anticipate
their difficulties. Tell them all together, in the class, what their
difficulties will be, and how they may surmount them. Give them
directions how they are to act in the emergencies, which will be likely
to occur. This simple step will remove a vast number of the questions,
which would otherwise become occasions for interrupting you. With regard
to other difficulties, which cannot be foreseen and guarded against,
tell them to bring them to the class, the next recitation. Half a dozen
might, and very probably would meet with the same difficulty. If they
bring it to you one by one, you have to answer it over and over again,
whereas, when it is brought to the class, one explanation answers for
all.
As to all questions about the lesson,--where it is, and what it is, and
how long it is,--never answer them. Require each pupil to remember for
himself, and if he was absent when the lesson was assigned, let him ask
his class mate in a recess.
You may refuse to give particular individuals the private assistance
they ask for, in such a way as to discourage and irritate them, but it
is not necessary. It can be done in such a manner, that the pupil will
see the propriety of it, and acquiesce pleasantly in it.
A child comes to you, for example, and says,
"Will you tell me, sir, where the next lesson is?"
"Were you not in the class at the time?"
"Yes sir, but I have forgotten."
"Well, I have forgotten too. I have a great many classes to hear, and of
course a great many lessons to assign, and I never remember them; it is
not necessary far me to remember."
"May I speak to one of the class, to ask about it?"
"You cannot speak, you know, till the Study Card is down; you may,
then."
"But I want to get my lesson now."
"I don't know what you will do, then: I am sorry you don't remember."
"Besides," continues the teacher, looking pleasantly, however, while he
says it, "if I knew, I think I ought not to tell you."
"Why, sir?"
"Because, you know, I have said I wish the scholars to remember where
the lessons are, and not come to me. You know it would be very unwise
for me, after assigning a lesson in the class, to spend my time in
telling the individuals over again here. Now if I should tell _you_, I
should have to tell others, and thus adopt a practice, which I have
condemned."
Take another case. You assign to a class of little girls a subject of
composition, requesting them to copy their writing upon a sheet of
paper, leaving a margin an inch wide at the top, and one of half an inch
at the sides and bottom. The class take their seats, and, after a short
time, one of them comes to you, saying she does not know how long an
inch is.
"Don't you know any thing about it?"
"No sir, not much."
"Should you think _that_ is more or less than an inch?" (pointing to a
space on a piece of paper much too large.)
"More."
"Then you know something about it. Now I did not tell you to make the
margins _exactly_ an inch, and half an inch, but only as near as you
could tell."
"Would that be about right?" asks the girl, showing a distance.
"I must not tell you, because you know I never in such cases help
individuals; if that is as near as you can get it, you may make it so."
It may be well, after assigning a lesson to a class, to say that all
those who do not distinctly understand what they have to do, may remain
after the class have taken their seats, and ask: the task may then be
distinctly assigned again, and the difficulties, so far as they can be
foreseen, explained.
By such means, these sources of interruption and difficulty may, like
the others, be almost entirely removed. Perhaps not altogether, for many
cases may occur, where the teacher may choose to give a particular
class permission to come to him for help. Such permission, however,
ought never to be given, unless it is absolutely necessary, and should
never be allowed to be taken, unless it is distinctly given.
4. Hearing recitations. I am aware that many attempt to do something
else, at the same time that they are hearing a recitation, and there may
perhaps be some individuals, who can succeed in this. If the exercise,
to which the teacher is attending, consists merely in listening to the
reciting, from memory, some passage committed, it can perhaps be done. I
hope however to show, in a future chapter, that there are other and far
higher objects, which every teacher ought to have in view, and he who
understands these objects, and aims at accomplishing them,--who
endeavors to _instruct_ his class, to enlarge and elevate their ideas,
to awaken a deep and paramount interest in the subject which they are
examining, will find that his time must be his own, and his attention
uninterrupted, while he is presiding at a class. All the other exercises
and arrangements of the school are, in fact, preparatory and subsidiary
to this. Here, that is, in the classes, the real business of teaching is
to be done. Here, the teacher comes in contact with his scholars, mind
with mind, and here, consequently, he must be uninterrupted and
undisturbed. I shall speak more particularly on this subject hereafter,
under the head of instruction; all I wish to secure in this place, is
that the teacher should make such arrangements, that he can devote his
exclusive attention to his classes, while he is actually engaged with
them.
Each recitation, too, should have its specified time, which should be
adhered to, with rigid accuracy. If any thing like the plan I have
suggested for allowing rests of a minute or two, every half hour, should
be adopted, it will mark off the forenoon into parts, which ought to be
precisely and carefully observed. I was formerly accustomed to think,
that I could not limit the time for my recitations without great
inconvenience, and occasionally allowed one exercise to encroach upon
the succeeding, and this upon the next, and thus sometimes the last was
excluded altogether. But such a lax and irregular method of procedure is
ruinous to the discipline of a school. On perceiving it, at last, I put
the bell into the hands of a pupil, commissioning her to ring regularly,
having, myself, fixed the times, saying that I would show my pupils that
I could be confined myself to system, as well as they. At first, I
experienced a little inconvenience, but this soon disappeared, and at
last the hours and half hours of our artificial division, entirely
superseded, in the school-room, the divisions of the clock face.
But in order that I may be specific and definite, I will draw up a plan
for the regular division of time, for a common school, not to be
_adopted_, but to be _imitated_; i. e. I do not recommend exactly this
plan, but that some plan, precise and specific, should be determined
upon, and exhibited to the school, by a diagram like the following.
FORENOON.
IX X XI XII
+-------------+--------------------+-----------------+
| Reading. | Writing. R. G. | Arithmetic. |
+-------------+--------------------+-----------------+
| | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
+-------------+--------------------+-----------------+
AFTERNOON.
II III IV V
+-------------+--------------------+-----------------+
| Grammar. | Writing. R. G. | Geography. |
+-------------+--------------------+-----------------+
| | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
+-------------+--------------------+-----------------+
A drawing on a large sheet, made by some of the older scholars, (for a
teacher should never do any thing of this kind which his scholars can do
for him,) should be made and pasted up to view, the names of the
classes being inserted in the columns, under their respective heads. At
the double lines at ten and three, there might be a rest of two minutes;
an officer appointed for the purpose, ringing a bell at each of the
parts marked on the plan, and making the signal for the _rest_, whatever
signal might be determined upon. It is a good plan to have a bell rung
five minutes before each half hour expires, and then exactly at its
close. The first one would be to notify the teacher, or teachers, if
there are more than one in the school, that the time for their
respective recitations is drawing to a close. At the second bell the new
classes should take their places without waiting to be called for. The
scholars will thus see that the arrangements of the school are based
upon system, to which the teacher himself conforms, and not subjected to
his own varying will. They will thus not only go on more regularly, but
they will yield more easily and pleasantly to the necessary
arrangements.
The fact is, children love system and regularity. Each one is sometimes
a little uneasy under the restraint, which it imposes upon him
individually, but they all love to see its operation upon others, and
they are generally very willing to submit to its laws, if the rest of
the community are required to submit too. They show this in their love
of military parade; what allures them is chiefly the _order_ of it: and
even a little child creeping upon the floor will be pleased when he gets
his playthings in a row. A teacher may turn this principle to most
useful account, in forming his plans for his school.
It will be seen by reference to the foregoing plan, that I have marked
the time for the recesses, by the letter R. at the top. Immediately
after them, both in the forenoon and in the afternoon, twenty minutes
are left, marked G., the initial standing for General exercise. They are
intended to denote periods during which all the scholars are in their
seats with their work laid aside, ready to attend to what the teacher
has to bring before the whole. There are so many occasions, on which it
is necessary to address the whole school, that it is very desirable to
appropriate a particular time for it. In most of the best schools, I
believe this plan is adopted. I will mention some of the subjects, which
would come up at such a time.
1. There are some studies, which can be advantageously attended to by
the whole school together; such as Punctuation, and, to some extent,
Spelling.
2. Cases of discipline, which it is necessary to bring before the whole
school, ought to come up at a regularly appointed time. By attending to
them here, there will be a greater importance attached to them. Whatever
the teacher does, will seem to be more deliberate, and, in fact, _will
be_ more deliberate.
3. General remarks, bringing up classes of faults which prevail; also
general directions, which may at any time be needed: and in fact any
business relating to the general arrangements of the school.
4. Familiar lectures from the teacher, on various subjects,--very
familiar in their form, and perhaps accompanied by questions addressed
to the whole. The design of such lectures should be to extend the
_general knowledge_ of the pupils in regard to those subjects on which
they will need information in their progress through life. In regard to
each of these particulars I shall speak more particularly hereafter, in
the chapters to which they respectively belong. My only object, here, is
to show, in the general arrangements of the school, how a place is to be
found for them. My practice has been, to have two periods, of short
duration, each day, appropriated to these objects. The first to the
_business of the school_, and the second to such studies or lectures as
could be most profitably attended to at such a time.
* * * * *
We come now to one of the most important subjects, which present
themselves to the teacher's attention, in settling the principles upon
which he shall govern his school. I mean the degree of influence which
the boys themselves shall have in the management of its affairs. Shall
the government of school be a _monarchy_ or a _republic_? To this
question, after much inquiry and many experiments, I answer, a
monarchy; an absolute, unlimited monarchy; the teacher possessing
exclusive power, as far as the pupils are concerned, though strictly
responsible to the committee, or to the trustees, under whom he holds
his office.
While, however, it is thus distinctly understood that the power of the
teacher is supreme, that all the power rests in him, and that he alone
is responsible for its exercise, there ought, to be a very free and
continual _delegation_ of power to the pupils. As much business as is
possible, should be committed to them. They should be interested as much
as possible in the affairs of the school, and led to take an active part
in carrying them forward; though they should, all the time, distinctly
understand, that it is only _delegated_ power which they exercise, and
that the teacher can, at any time, revoke what he has granted, and alter
or annul at pleasure, any of their decisions. By this plan, we have the
responsibility resting where it ought to rest, and yet the boys are
trained to business, and led to take an active interest in the welfare
of the school. Trust is reposed in them, which may be greater or less,
as they are able to bear. All the good effects of reposing trust and
confidence, and committing the management of important business to the
pupils will be secured, without the dangers which would result from the
entire surrender of the management of the institution into their hands.
There have been, in several cases, experiments made with reference to
ascertaining how far a government, strictly republican, would be
admissible in a school. A very fair experiment of this kind was made at
the Gardiner Lyceum, in Maine. At the time of its establishment, nothing
was said of the mode of government which it was intended to adopt. For
some time, the attention of the Instructers was occupied in arranging
the course of study, and attending to the other concerns of the
Institution, and in the infant state of the Lyceum, few cases of
discipline occurred, and no regular system of government was necessary.
Before long, however, complaints were made that the students at the
Lyceum were guilty of breaking windows in an old building used as a
town-house. The Principal called the students together, mentioned the
reports, and said that he did not know, and did not wish to know who
were the guilty individuals. It was necessary, however, that the thing
should be examined, and that restitution should be made; and relying on
their faithfulness and ability, he should leave them to manage the
business alone. For this purpose, he nominated one of the students as
judge, some others as jury-men, and appointed the other officers
necessary, in the same manner. He told them, that, in order to give them
time to make a thorough investigation, they were excused from farther
exercises during the day.
The Principal then left them, and they entered on the trial. The result
was, that they discovered the guilty individuals, ascertained the amount
of mischief done by each, and sent to the selectmen a message, by which
they agreed to pay a sum equal to three times the value of the injury
sustained.
The students were soon after informed that this mode of bringing
offenders to justice would, hereafter, be always pursued, and
arrangements were made for organizing a _regular republican government_,
among the young men. By this government, all laws which related to the
internal police of the Institution, were to be made, all officers were
appointed, and all criminal cases were to be tried. The students finding
the part of a judge too difficult for them to sustain, one of the
Professors was appointed to hold that office, and, for similar reasons,
another of the Professors was made President of the Legislative
assembly. The Principal was the Executive, with power to _pardon_, but
not to _sentence_, or even _accuse_.
Some time after this, a student was indicted for profane swearing; he
was tried, convicted, and punished. After this he evinced a strong
hostility to the government. He made great exertions to bring it into
contempt, and when the next trial came on, he endeavored to persuade the
witnesses that giving evidence was dishonorable, and he so far
succeeded, that the defendant was acquitted for want of evidence, when
it was generally understood that there was proof of his guilt, which
would have been satisfactory, if it could have been brought forward. For
some time after this, the prospect was rather unfavorable, though many
of the students themselves opposed with great earnestness these efforts,
and were much alarmed lest they should lose their free government,
through the perverseness of one of their number. The attorney general,
at this juncture, conceived the idea of indicting the individual alluded
to, for an attempt to overturn the government. He obtained the
approbation of the Principal, and the Grand Jury found a bill. The
Court, as the case was so important, invited some of the Trustees of the
Lyceum who were in town, to attend the trial. The parent of the
defendant was also informed of the circumstances and requested to be
present, and he accordingly attended. The prisoner was tried, found
guilty, and sentenced, if I mistake not, to an expulsion. At his earnest
request, however, to be permitted to remain in the Lyceum, and redeem
his character, he was pardoned and restored, and became perfectly
exemplary in his conduct and character. After this occurrence, the
system went on in successful operation, for some time.
The legislative power was vested in the hands of a general committee,
consisting of eight or ten, chosen by the students from their own
number. They met about once a week to transact such business as
appointing officers, making and repealing regulations, and inquiring
into the state of the Lyceum. The Instructers had a negative upon all
their proceedings, but no direct and positive power. They could pardon,
but they could assign no punishments, nor make laws inflicting any.
Now such a plan as this may succeed for a short time, and under very
favorable circumstances; and the circumstance, which it is chiefly
important should be favorable, is, that the man who is called to preside
over such an association, should possess such a share of _generalship_,
that he can really manage the institution _himself_, while the power is
_nominally_ and _apparently_ in the hands of the boys. Should this not
be the case, or should the teacher, from any cause, lose his personal
influence in the school, so that the institution should really be
surrendered into the hands of the pupils, things must be on a very
unstable footing. And accordingly where such a plan has been adopted, it
has, I believe, in every instance, been ultimately abandoned.
_Real self-government_ is an experiment sufficiently hazardous among
men; though Providence, in making a daily supply of food necessary for
every human being, has imposed a most-powerful check upon the tendency
to anarchy and confusion. Let the populace of London materially
interrupt the order, and break in upon the arrangements of the
community, and, in eight and forty hours, nearly the whole of the mighty
mass will be in the hands of the devourer, hunger; and they will be soon
brought to submission. On the other hand, a month's anarchy and
confusion in a college or an academy, would be delight to half the
students, or else times have greatly changed, since I was within college
walls.
Although it is thus evident that the important concerns of a literary
institution cannot be safely committed into the hands of the students,
very great benefits will result from calling upon them to act upon, and
to decide questions relative to the school, within such limits, and
under such restrictions, as may appear best. Such a practice will assist
the teacher very much, if he manages it with any degree of dexterity:
for it will interest his pupils in the success of the school, and
secure, to a very considerable extent, their cooperation. It will teach
them self-control and self-government, and will accustom them to submit
to the majority,--that lesson, which, of all others, it is important for
a republican to learn.
In endeavoring to interest the pupils of a school in the work of
cooperating with the teacher in its administration, no little dexterity
will be necessary, at the outset. In all probability, the formal
announcement of this principle, and the endeavor to introduce it, by a
sudden revolution, would totally fail. Boys, like men, must be gradually
prepared for power, and they must exercise it only so far as they are
prepared. This however can, very easily, be done. The teacher should
say nothing of his general design, but when some suitable opportunity
presents, he should endeavor to lead his pupils to cooperate with him,
in some particular instance.
For example, let us suppose that he has been accustomed to distribute
the writing-books with his own hand, when the writing hour arrives, and
that he concludes to delegate this simple business, first, to his
scholars. He accordingly states to them, just before the writing
exercise of the day on which he proposes the experiment, as follows.
"I have thought that time will be saved, if you will help me distribute
the books, and I will accordingly appoint four distributors, one for
each division of the seats, who may come to me, and receive the books
and distribute them, each to his own division. Are you willing to adopt
this plan?"
The boys answer, "Yes sir," and the teacher then looks carefully around
the room, and selects four pleasant and popular boys,--boys who, he
knows, would gladly assist him, and who would, at the same time, be
agreeable to their school mates. This latter point is necessary, in
order to secure the popularity and success of the plan.
Unless the boys are very different from any I have ever met with, they
will be pleased with the duty thus assigned them. They will learn system
and regularity by being taught to perform this simple duty in a proper
manner. After a week, the teacher may consider their term of service as
having expired, and thanking them, in public for the assistance they
have rendered him, he may ask the scholars, if they are willing to
continue the plan, and if the vote is in favor of it, as it
unquestionably would be, each boy probably hoping that he should be
appointed to the office, the teacher may nominate four others, including
perhaps upon the list, some boy popular among his companions, but whom
he has suspected to be not very friendly to himself or the school. I
think the most scrupulous politician would not object to securing
influence, by conferring office in such a case. If any difficulties
arise from the operation of such a measure, it can easily be dropped,
or modified. If it is successful, it may be continued, and the principle
extended, till it very considerably modifies all the arrangements, and
the whole management of the school.
Or let us imagine the following scene to have been the commencement of
the introduction of the principle of limited self-government, into a
school.
The preceptor of an academy was sitting at his desk, at the close of
school, while the pupils were putting up their books and leaving the
room; a boy came in with angry looks, and, with his hat in his hands
bruised and dusty, advanced to the master's desk, and complained that
one of his companions had thrown down his hat upon the floor, and had
almost spoilt it.
The teacher looked calmly at the mischief, and then asked how it
happened.
"I don't know sir; I hung it up on my nail, and he pulled it down."
"I wish you would ask him to come here," said the teacher. "Ask him
pleasantly."
The accused soon came in, and the two boys stood together before the
master.
"There seems to be some difficulty between you boys, about a nail to
hang your hats upon. I suppose each of you think it is your own nail."
"Yes sir," said both the boys.
"It will be more convenient for me to talk with you about this
to-morrow, than to-night, if you are willing to wait. Besides, we can
examine it more calmly, then. But if we put it off till then, you must
not talk about it in the meantime, blaming one another, and keeping up
the irritation that you feel. Are you both willing to leave it just
where it is, till to-morrow, and try to forget all about it till then? I
expect I shall find you both a little to blame."
The boys rather reluctantly consented. The next day the master heard the
case and settled it, so far as it related to the two boys. It was easily
settled in the morning, for they had had time to get calm, and were,
after sleeping away their anger, rather ashamed of the whole affair, and
very desirous to have it forgotten.
That day, when the hour for the transaction of business came, the
teacher stated to the school, that it was necessary to take some
measures to provide each boy with a nail for his hat. In order to show
that it was necessary, he related the circumstances of the quarrel which
had occurred the day before. He did this, not with such an air and
manner as to convey the impression that his object was to find fault
with the boys, or to expose their misconduct, but to show the necessity
of doing something to remedy the evil, which had been the cause of so
unpleasant an occurrence. Still, though he said nothing in the way of
reproach or reprehension, and did not name the boys, but merely gave a
cool and impartial narrative of the facts,--the effect, very evidently,
was to bring such quarrels into discredit. A calm review of misconduct,
after the excitement has gone by, will do more to bring it into
disgrace, than the most violent invectives and reproaches, directed
against the individuals guilty of it.
"Now boys," continued the master, "will you assist me in making
arrangements to prevent the recurrence of all temptations of this kind
hereafter? It is plain that every boy ought to have a nail appropriated
expressly to his use. The first thing to be done is, to ascertain
whether there are enough for all. I should like, therefore, to have two
committees appointed; one, to count and report the number of nails in
the entry, and also how much room there is for more; the other, to
ascertain the number of scholars in school. They can count all who are
here, and by observing the vacant desks, they can ascertain the number
absent. When this investigation is made, I will tell you what to do
next."
The boys seemed pleased with the plan, and the committees were
appointed, two members on each. The master took care to give the
quarrellers some share in the work, apparently forgetting, from this
time, the unpleasant occurrence which had brought up the subject.
When the boys came to tell him their results, he asked them to make a
little memorandum, in writing, as he might forget, before the time came
for reading them. They brought him presently a rough scrap of paper,
with the figures marked upon it. He told them he should forget which
was the number of nails, and which the number of scholars, unless they
wrote it down.
"It is the custom among men," said he, "to make out their report, in
such a case, fully, so that it would explain itself; and I should like
to have you, if you are willing, to make out yours a little more
distinctly."
Accordingly, after a little additional explanation, the boys made
another attempt, and presently returned, with something like the
following:
"The Committee for counting the nails report as follows:
Number of nails 35
Room for 15."
The other report was very similar, though somewhat rudely written and
expressed, and both were perfectly satisfactory to the preceptor, as he
plainly showed by the manner in which he received them.
I need not finish the description of this case, by narrating,
particularly, the reading of the reports, the appointment of a committee
to assign the nails, and to paste up the names of the scholars, one to
each. The work, in such a case, might be done in recesses, and out of
school hours, and though, at first, the teacher will find, that it is as
much trouble to accomplish business in this way, as it would be to
attend to it directly himself,--yet after a very little experience, he
will find that his pupils will acquire dexterity and readiness, and will
be able to render him very material assistance in the accomplishment of
his plans.
This, however, _the assistance rendered to the teacher_, is not the
object. The main design is to _interest the pupils_, in the management
and the welfare of the school,--to identify them, as it were, with it.
It will accomplish this object; and every teacher, who will try the
experiment, and carry it into effect, with any tolerable degree of
skill, will find that it will, in a short time, change the whole aspect
of the school, in regard to the feelings subsisting between himself and
his pupils.
Each teacher, who tries such an experiment, will find himself insensibly
repeating it, and after a time he may have quite a number of officers
and committees, who are entrusted with various departments of business.
He will have a secretary, chosen by ballot, by the scholars, to keep a
record of all the important transactions in the school, for each day. At
first, he will dictate to the secretary, telling him precisely what to
say, or even writing it for him, and merely requiring him to copy it
into the book provided for the purpose. Afterwards he will give him less
and less assistance, till he can keep the record properly himself. The
record of each day will be read on the succeeding, at the hour for
business. He will have a committee of one or two to take care of the
fire, and another to see that the room is constantly in good order. He
will have distributors for each division of seats, to distribute books,
and compositions, and pens, and to collect votes. And thus, in a short
time, his school will become _regularly organized, as a society_, or
_legislative assembly_. The boys will learn submission to the majority,
in such unimportant things as may be committed to them: they will learn
system and regularity; and every thing else that belongs to the science
of political self government.
There are dangers, however. What useful practice has not its dangers?
One of these is, that the teacher will allow these arrangements to take
up too much time. He must guard against this. I have found from
experience that fifteen minutes each day, with a school of 135, is
enough. This ought never to be exceeded.
Another danger is, that the boys will be so engaged in the duties of
their _offices_, as to neglect their _studies_. This would be, and ought
to be, fatal to the whole plan. Avoid it in this manner. State publicly
that you will not appoint any to office, who are not good scholars,
always punctual, and always prepared; and when any boy, who holds an
office, is going behind hand in his studies, say to him kindly, "You
have not time to get your lessons, and I am afraid it is owing to the
time you spend in helping me. Now if you wish to resign your office, so
as to have a little more time for your lessons, you can. In fact, I
think you ought to do it. You may try it for a day or two, and I will
notice how you recite, and then we can decide."
Such a communication will generally be found to have a powerful effect.
If it does not remedy the evil, the resignation must be insisted on. A
few decided cases of this kind, will effectually remove the evil I am
considering.
* * * * *
Another difficulty, which is likely to attend the plan of allowing the
pupils of the school to decide some of the cases which occur, is, that
it may tend to make them insubordinate; so that they will, in many
instances, submit, with less good humor, to such decisions as you may
consider necessary. I do not mean that this will be the case with all,
but that there will be a few, who will be ungenerous enough, if you
allow them to decide, sometimes, to endeavor to make trouble, or at
least to show symptoms of impatience and vexation, because you do not
allow them to decide always.
Sometimes this feeling may show itself by the discontented looks, or
gestures, or even words, with which some unwelcome decision will be
received. Such a spirit should be immediately and decidedly checked. It
will not be difficult to check, and even entirely to remove it. On one
occasion, when, after learning the wishes of the scholars on some
subject which had been brought before them, I decided contrary to it,
there arose a murmur of discontent, all over the room. This was the more
distinct, because I have always accustomed my pupils to answer questions
asked, and to express their wishes and feelings on any subject I may
present to them, with great freedom.
I asked all those, who had expressed their dissatisfaction, to rise.
About one third of the scholars arose.
"Perhaps you understood, that when I put the question to vote, I meant
to abide by your decision, and that, consequently, I ought not to have
reversed it, as I did, afterwards?"
"Yes sir;" "yes sir;" they replied.
"Do you suppose it would be safe to leave the decision of important
questions to the scholars in this school?"
"Yes sir;" "No sir." The majority were, however, in the affirmative.
Thus far, only those who were standing, had answered. I told them, that
as they were divided in opinion, they might sit, and I would put the
question to the whole school.
"You know," I continued, addressing the whole, "what sort of persons the
girls, who compose this school are. You know about how many are
governed, habitually, by steady principle, and how many by impulse and
feeling. You know too, what proportion have judgment and foresight
necessary to consider and decide independently, such questions as
continually arise in the management of a school. Now suppose I should
resign the school into your own hands, as to its management, and only
come in to give instruction to the classes, leaving all general control
of its arrangements with you; would it go on safely or not?"
As might have been foreseen, there was, when the question was fairly
proposed, scarcely a solitary vote in favor of government by scholars.
They seemed to see clearly the absurdity of such a scheme.
"Besides," I continued, "the Trustees of this school have committed it
to my charge; they hold me responsible; the public hold me responsible,
not you. Now if I should surrender it into your hands, and you, from any
cause, should manage the trust unfaithfully, or unskilfully, I should
necessarily be held accountable. I could never shift the responsibility
upon you. Now it plainly is not just or right, that one party should
hold the power, and another be held accountable for its exercise. It is
clear, therefore, in every view of the subject, that I should retain the
management of this school in my own hands. Are you not satisfied that it
is?"
The scholars universally answered, "Yes sir." They seemed satisfied; and
doubtless were.
It was then stated to them, that the object in asking them to vote, was,
in some cases, to obtain an expression of their opinion or their wishes,
in order to help _me_ decide; and only in those cases where it was
expressly stated, did I mean to give the final decision to them.
Still, however, if cases are often referred to them, the feeling will
gradually creep in, that the school is managed on republican principles,
as they call it; and they will, unless this point is specially guarded,
gradually lose that spirit of entire and cordial subordination, so
necessary for the success of any school. It should often be distinctly
explained to them, that a republican government is one, where the power
essentially resides in the community, and is exercised by a ruler, only
so far as the community delegates it to him; whereas in the school, the
government is based on the principle, that the power, primarily and
essentially, resides in the teacher, the scholars exercising only such
as he may delegate to them.
With these limitations and restrictions, and with this express
understanding, in regard to what is, in all cases, the ultimate
authority, I think there will be no danger in throwing a very large
share of the business which will, from time to time, come up in the
school, upon the scholars, for decision. In my own experience, this plan
has been adopted with the happiest results. A small red morocco wrapper
lies constantly on a little shelf, accessible to all. By its side, is a
little pile of papers, about one inch by six, on which any one may write
her motion, or her _proposition_, as they call it, whatever it may be,
and when written, it is enclosed in the wrapper, to be brought to me at
the appointed time for attending to the general business of the school.
Through this wrapper, all questions are asked, all complaints entered,
all proposals made. Is there discontent in the school? It shows itself
by "_propositions_" in the wrapper. Is any body aggrieved or injured? I
learn it through the wrapper. In fact it is a little safety valve, which
lets off, what, if confined, might threaten explosion,--an index,--a
thermometer, which reveals to me, from day to day, more of the state of
public opinion in the little community, than any thing beside.
These propositions are generally read aloud; some cases are referred to
the scholars for decision; some I decide myself; others are laid aside
without notice of any kind; others still, merely suggest remarks on the
subjects to which they allude.
The principles, then, which this chapter has been intended to establish,
are simply these: in making your general arrangements, look carefully
over your ground, consider all the objects which you have to accomplish,
and the proper degree of time and attention, which each deserves. Then
act upon system. Let the mass of particulars which would otherwise crowd
upon you in promiscuous confusion, be arranged and classified. Let each
be assigned to its proper time and place; that your time may be your
own,--under your own command,--and not, as is too often the case, at the
mercy of the thousand accidental circumstances, which may occur.
In government, be yourself supreme, and let your supremacy be that of
_authority_. But delegate power, as freely as possible, to those under
your care. Show them that you are desirous of reposing trust in them,
just so far as they show themselves capable of exercising it. Thus
interest them in your plans, and make them feel, that they participate
in the honor or the disgrace of success or failure.
I have gone much into detail in this chapter, proposing definite
measures by which the principles I have recommended, may be carried into
effect. I wish, however, that it may be distinctly understood, that all
I contend for, is the _principles_ themselves; no matter what the
particular measures are, by which they are secured. Every good school
must be systematic; but they need not all be on precisely the same
system. As this work is intended almost exclusively for beginners, much
detail has been admitted, and many of the specific measures here
proposed, may perhaps be safely adopted, where no others are
established. There may also perhaps be cases, where teachers, whose
schools are already in successful operation, may engraft, upon their own
plans, some things which are here proposed. If they should attempt it,
it must be done cautiously and gradually. There is no other way by which
they can be safely introduced or even introduced at all. This is a point
of so much importance, that I must devote a paragraph to it, before
closing the chapter.
Let a teacher propose to his pupils, formally, from his desk, the plan
of writing propositions, for example, and procure his wrapper, and put
it in its place;--and what would be the result? Why, not a single
paper, probably, could he get, from one end of the week to the other.
But let him, on the other hand, when a boy comes to him to ask some
question, the answer to which many in the school would equally wish to
hear, say to the inquirer:
"Will you be so good as to write that question, and put it on my desk,
and then, at the regular time, I will answer it to all the school."
When he reads it, let him state, that it was written at his request, and
give the other boys permission to leave their proposals or questions on
his desk, in the same way. In a few days, he will have another, and thus
the plan may be gently and gradually introduced.
So with officers. They should be appointed among the scholars, only _as
fast as they are actually needed_, and the plan should thus be
cautiously carried only so far as it proves good on trial. Be always
cautious about innovations and changes. Make no rash experiments on a
large scale, but always test your principle in the small way, and then,
if it proves good, gradually extend its operation, as circumstances seem
to require.
By thus cautiously and slowly introducing plans, founded on the
systematic principles here brought to view, a very considerable degree
of quiet, and order, and regularity may be introduced into the largest
and most miscellaneous schools. And this order and quiet are absolutely
necessary, to enable the teacher to find that interest and enjoyment in
his work, which were exhibited in the last chapter; the pleasure of
_directing and controlling mind_, and doing it, not by useless and
anxious complaints, or stern threats and painful punishments; but by
regarding the scene of labor in its true light, as a community of
intellectual and moral beings, and governing it by moral and
intellectual power. It is, in fact, the pleasure of exercising power. I
do not mean arbitrary, personal authority, but the power to produce, by
successful but quiet contrivance, extensive and happy results;--the
pleasure of calmly considering every difficulty, and without irritation
or anger, devising the proper moral means to remedy the moral evil: and
then the interest and pleasure of witnessing its effects.
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.
But we are wandering a little from our subject; which is, in this part
of our chapter, the methods of _examining_ a class, not of giving or
fixing instructions.
Another mode of examining classes, which it is important to describe,
consists in requiring _written answers_ to the questions asked. The form
and manner, in which this plan may be adopted, is various. The class may
bring their slates to the recitation, and the teacher may propose
questions successively, the answers to which all the class may write,
numbering them carefully. After a dozen answers are written, the teacher
may call, at random, for them; or he may repeat a question, and ask
each pupil to read the answer he had written; or he may examine the
slates. Perhaps this method may be very successfully employed in
reviews, by dictating to the class, a list of questions, relating to the
ground they have gone over, for a week, and to which they are to prepare
answers, written out at length, and to be brought in at the next
exercise. This method may be made more formal still, by requiring a
class to write a full and regular abstract of all they have learned,
during a specified time. The practice of thus reducing to writing what
has been learned, will be attended with many advantages, so obvious that
they need not be described.
It will be perceived that three methods of examining classes have now
been named, and these will afford the teacher the means of introducing a
very great variety, in his mode of conducting his recitations, while he
still carries his class forward steadily in their prescribed course.
Each is attended with its peculiar advantages. The _single replies_,
coming from individuals specially addressed, are more rigid, and more to
be relied upon;--but they consume a great deal of time, and while one is
questioned, it requires much skill, to keep up interest in the rest. The
_simultaneous answers_ of a class awaken more general interest, but it
is difficult, without special care, to secure, by this means, a thorough
examination of all. The _written replies_, are more thorough, but they
require more time, and attention, and while they habituate the pupil to
express his thoughts in writing, they would, if exclusively adopted,
fail to accustom him to an equally important practice, that of the oral
communication of his thoughts. A constant variety, of which these three
methods should be the elements, is unquestionably the best mode. We not
only, by this means, secure in a great degree the advantages which each
is fitted to produce, but we gain, also, the additional advantage and
interest of variety.
By these, and perhaps by other means, it is the duty of the teacher to
satisfy himself that his pupils are really attentive to their duties. It
is not perhaps necessary, that every individual should be, every day,
minutely examined; this is, in many cases, impossible. But the system of
examination should be so framed, and so administered, as to be daily
felt by all, and to bring upon every one, a daily responsibility.
* * * * *
We come now to consider the second general head, which was to be
discussed in this chapter.
The study of books alone, is insufficient to give knowledge to the
young. In the first stage, learning to read, a book is of no use
whatever, without the voice of the living teacher. The child cannot take
a step alone. As the pupil, however, advances in his course, his
dependence upon his teacher for guidance and help, continually
diminishes, until, at last, the scholar sits in his solitary study, with
no companion but his books, and desiring, for a solution of every
difficulty, nothing but a larger library. In schools, however, the
pupils have made so little progress in this course, that they all need
more or less of this oral assistance. Difficulties must be explained;
questions must be answered; the path must be smoothed, and the way
pointed out, by a guide, who has travelled it before, or it will be
impossible for the pupil to go on. This is the part of our subject,
which we now approach.
The great principle which is to guide the teacher, in this part of his
duty, is this; _Assist your pupils, in such a way, as to lead them, as
soon as possible, to do without assistance_. This is fundamental. In a
short time they will be away from your reach; they will have no teacher
to consult; and unless you teach them how to understand books
themselves, they must necessarily stop suddenly in their course, the
moment you cease to help them forward. I shall proceed, therefore, to
consider the subject, in the following plan:--
1. Means of exciting interest in study.
2. The kind and degree of assistance to be rendered.
3. Miscellaneous suggestions.
1. Interesting the pupils in their studies. There are various principles
of human nature, which may be of great avail, in accomplishing this
object. Making intellectual effort, and acquiring knowledge, are always
pleasant to the human mind, unless some peculiar circumstances render
them otherwise. The teacher has, therefore, only to remove obstructions,
and sources of pain, and the employment of his pupils will be, of
itself, a pleasure.
"I am going to give you a new exercise to-day," said a teacher to a
class of boys, in Latin. "I am going to have you parse your whole
lesson, in writing. It will be difficult, but I think you may be able to
accomplish it."
The class looked surprised. They did not know what _parsing in writing_
could be.
"You may first, when you take your seats, and are ready to prepare the
lesson, write upon your slates, a list of the ten first nouns, arranging
them in a column. Do you understand so far?"
"Yes sir."
"Then rule lines for another column, just beyond this. In parsing nouns,
what is the first particular to be named?"
"What the noun is from."
"Yes; that is, its nominative. Now you may write, at the head of the
first column, the word _Nouns_, and at the head of the second, _Nom._,
for nominative. Then rule a line for the third column. What shall this
contain?" "The declension." "Yes; and the fourth?" "Gender." "The
fifth?" "Number."
In the same manner the other columns were designated; the sixth, was to
contain case; the seventh, the word, with which the noun was connected,
in construction; and the eighth, a reference to the rule.
"Now I wish you," continued the teacher, "to fill up such a table as
this, with _ten_ nouns. Do you understand how I mean?"
"Yes sir;" "No sir;" they answered, variously.
"All who do understand may take their seats; as I wish to give as little
explanation, as possible. The more you can depend upon yourselves, the
better."
Those who saw clearly what was to be done, left the class, and the
teacher continued his explanation to those who were left behind. He made
the plan perfectly clear to them, by taking a particular noun, and
running it through the table, showing what should be written opposite
to the word, in all the columns; and then dismissed them.
The class separated, as every class would, in such a case, with strong
interest in the work before them. It was not so difficult as to perplex
them, and yet it required attention and care. They were interested and
pleased;--pleased with the effort which it required them to make, and
they anticipated, with interest and pleasure, the time of coming again
to the class, to report and compare their work.
When the time for the class came, the teacher addressed them somewhat as
follows:
"Before looking at your slates, I am going to predict what the faults
are. I have not seen any of your work, but shall judge altogether from
my general knowledge of school-boys, and the difficulties I know they
meet with Do you think I shall succeed?"
The scholars made no reply, and an unskilful teacher would imagine, that
time spent in such remarks, would be wholly wasted. By no means. The
influence of it was to awaken universal interest in the approaching
examination of the slates. Every scholar would be intent, watching, with
eager interest, to see whether the imagined faults would be found upon
his work. The class was, by that single pleasant remark, put into the
best possible state, for receiving the criticisms of the teacher.
"The first fault, which I suppose will be found, is, that some are
unfinished."
The scholars looked surprised. They did not expect to have that called a
fault.
"How many plead guilty to it?"
A few raised their hands, and the teacher continued.
"I suppose that some will be found partly effaced. The slates were not
laid away carefully, or they were not clean, so that the writing is not
distinct. How many find this the case with their work?"
"I suppose that, in some cases, the lines will not be perpendicular, but
will slant, probably towards the left, like writing."
"I suppose also, that, in some cases, the writing will be careless, so
that I cannot easily read it. How many plead guilty to this?"
After mentioning such other faults as occurred to him, relating chiefly
to the form of the table, and the mere mechanical execution of the work,
he said:
"I think I shall not look at your slates to-day. You can all see, I have
no doubt, how you can considerably improve them, in mechanical
execution, in your next lesson; and I suppose you would a little prefer
that I should not see your first imperfect efforts. In fact, I should
rather not see them. At the next recitation, they probably will be much
better."
One important means by which the teacher may make his scholars careful
of their reputation, is to show them, thus, that he is careful of it
himself.
Now, in such a case as this, for it is, except in the principles which
it is intended to illustrate, imaginary, a very strong interest would be
awakened in the class, in the work assigned them. Intellectual effort,
in new and constantly varied modes, is in itself a pleasure, and this
pleasure the teacher may deepen and increase very easily, by a little
dexterous management, designed to awaken curiosity, and concentrate
attention. It ought, however, to be constantly borne in mind, that this
variety should be confined, to the modes of pursuing an object, which is
permanent, and constant, and steadily pursued. For instance, if a little
class are to be taught simple addition, after the process is once
explained, which may be done, perhaps, in two or three lessons, they
will need many days of patient practice, to render it familiar, to
impress it firmly in their recollection, and to enable them to work with
rapidity. Now this object must be steadily pursued. It would be very
unwise for the teacher to say to himself; my class are tired of
addition, I must carry them on to subtraction, or give them some other
study. It would be equally unwise, to keep them many days performing
example after example, in monotonous succession, each lesson a mere
repetition of the last. He must steadily pursue his object, of
familiarizing them fully with this elementary process, but he may give
variety and spirit to the work, by changing occasionally the modes. One
week he may dictate examples to them, and let them come together to
compare their results; one of the class being appointed to keep a list
of all who are correct, each day. At another time, each one may write an
example, which he may read aloud to all the others, to be performed and
brought in at the next time. Again, he may let them work on paper, with
pen and ink, that he may see how few mistakes they make, as mistakes in
ink, cannot be easily removed. He may excite interest by devising
ingenious examples, such as finding out how much all the numbers from
one to fifty will make, when added together, or the amount of the ages
of the whole class; or any such example, the result of which they might
feel a little interest in learning. Thus the object is steadily pursued,
though the means of pursuing it, are constantly changing. We have the
advantage of regular progress in the acquisition of knowledge truly
valuable, while this progress is made, with all the spirit and interest
which variety can give.
The necessity of making such efforts as this, however, to keep up the
interest of the class in their work, and to make it pleasant to them,
will depend altogether upon circumstances; or rather, it will vary much
with circumstances. A class of pupils somewhat advanced in their
studies, and understanding and feeling the value of knowledge, will need
very little of such effort as this; while young and giddy children, who
have been accustomed to dislike books and school, and every thing
connected with them, will need more. It ought, however, in all cases, to
be made a means, not an end;--the means to lead on a pupil to an
_interest in progress in knowledge itself_, which is, after all, the
great motive, which ought to be brought, as soon and as extensively as
possible, to operate in the school-room.
Another way to awaken interest in the studies of the school, is to bring
out as frequently, and as distinctly, as possible, the connexion between
these studies and the practical business of life. The events which are
occurring around you, and which interest the community in which you are
placed, may, by a little ingenuity, be connected, in a thousand ways,
with the studies of the school. If the practice, which has been already
repeatedly recommended, of appropriating a quarter of an hour, each day,
to a general exercise, should be adopted, it will afford great
facilities for doing this.
Suppose, for example, while the question between the General Government
and the State of South Carolina, was pending, and agitating the whole
country, almost every one looking, with anxious interest, every day, for
intelligence from the scene of the conflict, that the teacher of a
school, had brought up the subject, at such a general exercise as has
been mentioned. He describes, in a few words, the nature of the
question, and, in such a manner, as to awaken, throughout the school, a
strong interest in the result of the contest. He then says,
"I wish now to make you all more fully acquainted with this case, and
the best way of doing it, which occurs to me, is as follows:
"There are several studies in school, which throw light upon this
controversy; especially History, Geography, and Political Economy. Now,
I shall take the classes in these studies, for a day or two, out of
their regular course, and assign them lessons which relate to this
subject, and then hear them recite in the General Exercise, that you may
all hear. The first class in Geography may take therefore, for their
next lesson, the State of South Carolina; to-morrow they will recite in
the hearing of the whole school, when I shall make such additional
explanations, as will occur to me. The next day, I shall assign to the
class in History, a passage giving an account of the formation of this
government; and afterwards lessons will be recited from the Political
Class Book, explaining the mode of collecting money for the use of our
government, by duties, and the relative powers of the General and State
Governments. After hearing all these lessons recited, with my remarks in
addition, you will be the better able to understand the subject, and
then I shall bring in a newspaper now and then, and keep you acquainted
with the progress of the affair."
Now the propriety of taking up the particular subject, which I have
here introduced, by way of illustration, in such a way, would depend
altogether upon the character and standing of the school; the age and
mental maturity of the scholars, and their capacity to understand the
circumstances of such a case, and to appreciate those considerations
which give interest to it. The principle however, is applicable to all;
and one such experiment, dexterously carried through, will do more
towards giving boys and girls, clear and practical ideas of the reason
why they go to school, and of the importance of acquiring knowledge,
than the best lecture on such a subject, which ever was delivered.
There is no branch of study attended to in school, which may, by
judicious efforts, be made more effectual in accomplishing this
object,--leading the pupils to see the practical utility, and the value
of knowledge, than composition. If such subjects as are suitable themes
for _moral essays_, are assigned, the scholars will indeed dislike the
work of writing, and derive little benefit from it. The mass of pupils
in our schools, are not to be writers of moral essays or orations, and
they do not need to form that style of empty, florid, verbose
declamation, which the practice of writing composition in our schools,
as it is too frequently managed, tends to form. Assign practical
subjects,--subjects relating to the business of the school,--or the
events taking place around you. Is there a question before the
community, on the subject of the location of a new school-house? Assign
it to your pupils, as a question for discussion, and direct them not to
write empty declamation, but to obtain, from their parents, the real
arguments in the case, and to present them, distinctly and clearly, and
in simple language, to their companions. Was a building burnt by
lightning in the neighborhood? Let those who saw the scene, describe it;
their productions to be read by the teacher aloud; and let them see that
clear descriptions please, and that good legible writing can be read
fluently, and that correct spelling, and punctuation, and grammar, make
the article go smoothly and pleasantly, and enable it to produce its
full effect. Is a public building going forward in the neighborhood of
your school? You can make it a very fruitful source of subjects and
questions, to give interest and impulse to the studies of the
school-room. Your classes in geometry may measure,--your arithmeticians
may calculate, and make estimates,--your writers may describe its
progress, from week to week, and anticipate the scenes, which it will in
future years exhibit.
By such means, the practical bearings and relations of the studies of
the school-room, may he constantly kept in view; but I ought to guard
the teacher, while on this subject, most distinctly, against the danger
of making the school-room a scene of literary amusement, instead of
study. These means of awakening interest, and relieving the tedium of
the uninterrupted and monotonous study of text books, must not encroach
on the regular duties of the school. They must be brought forward with
judgment and moderation, and made subordinate and subservient to these
regular duties. Their design is, to give spirit, and interest, and a
feeling of practical utility, to what the pupils are doing, and if
resorted to, with these restrictions, and within these limits, they will
produce powerful, but safe results.
Another way to excite interest, and that of the right kind in school, is
not to _remove_ difficulties, but to teach the pupils how to _surmount_
them. A text book so contrived as to make study mere play, and to
dispense with thought and effort, is the worst text book that can be
made, and the surest to be, in the end, a dull one. The great source of
literary enjoyment, which is the successful exercise of intellectual
power, is, by such a mode of presenting a subject, cut off. Secure
therefore severe study. Let the pupil see that you are aiming to secure
it, and that the pleasure which you expect that they will receive, is
that of firmly and patiently encountering and overcoming difficulty; of
penetrating, by steady and persevering effort, into regions, from which
the idle and the inefficient are debarred; and that it is your province
to lead them forward, not to carry them. They will soon understand this,
and like it.
Never underrate the difficulties which your pupils will have to
encounter, or try to persuade them that what you assign is _easy_. Doing
easy things is generally dull work, and it is especially discouraging
and disheartening for a pupil to spend his strength in doing what is
really difficult for him, when his instructer, by calling his work easy,
gives him no credit, for what may have been severe and protracted labor.
If a thing is really hard for the pupil, his teacher ought to know it,
and admit it. The child then feels that he has some sympathy.
It is astonishing how great an influence may be exerted over a child, by
his simply knowing that his efforts are observed and appreciated. You
pass a boy in the street, wheeling a heavy load, in a barrow; now simply
stop to look at him, with a countenance which says, "that is a heavy
load; I should not think that boy could wheel it;" and how quick will
your look give fresh strength and vigor to his efforts. On the other
hand, when, in such a case, the boy is faltering under his load, try the
effect of telling him, "Why, that is not heavy; you can wheel it easily
enough; trundle it along." The poor boy will drop his load, disheartened
and discouraged, and sit down upon it, in despair. No, even if the work
you are assigning to a class is easy, do not tell them so, unless you
wish to destroy all their spirit and interest in doing it; and if you
wish to excite their spirit and interest, make your work difficult, and
let them see that you know it is so. Not so difficult as to tax their
powers too heavily, but enough so, to require a vigorous and persevering
effort. Let them distinctly understand too, that you know it is
difficult,--that you mean to make it so,--but that they have your
sympathy and encouragement, in the efforts which it calls them to make.
You may satisfy yourself that human nature is, in this respect, what I
have described, by some such experiment as the following:--Select two
classes, not very familiar with elementary arithmetic, and offer to each
of them the following example in Addition:--
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 1
3 4 5 6 7 8 9 1 2
&c. &c.
The numbers may be continued, according to the obvious law regulating
the above, until each one of the nine digits has commenced the line. Or,
if you choose Multiplication, let the example be this:--
Multiply 123456789
by 123456789
---------
Now, when you bring the example to one of the classes, address the
pupils as follows:
"I have contrived for you a very difficult sum. It is the most difficult
one that can be made, with the number of figures contained in it, and I
do not think that any of you can do it, but you may try. I shall not be
surprised if every answer should contain mistakes."
To the other class, say as follows:--
"I have prepared an example for you, which I wish you to be very careful
to perform correctly. It is a little longer than those you have had
heretofore, but it is to be performed upon the same principles, and you
can all do it correctly, if you really try."
Now under such circumstances the first class will go to their seats with
ardor and alacrity; determined to show you that they can do work, even
if it is difficult. And if they succeed, they come to the class the next
day, with pride and pleasure. They have accomplished something, which
you admit it was not easy to accomplish. On the other hand, the second
class will go to their seats, with murmuring looks and words; and with a
hearty dislike of the task you have assigned them. They know that they
have something to do, which, however easy it may be to the teacher, is
really difficult for them, and they have to be perplexed and wearied
with the work, without having at last, even the little satisfaction of
knowing that the teacher appreciates the difficulties with which they
had to contend.
2. We now come to consider the subject of rendering assistance to the
pupil, which is one of the most important and delicate parts of a
teacher's work. The great difference, which exists among teachers, in
regard to the skill they possess in this part of their duty, is so
striking that it is very often noticed by others; and perhaps skill here
is of more avail, in deciding the question of success or failure, than
any thing besides. The first great principle, is, however, simple and
effectual.
(1.) _Divide and subdivide a difficult process, until your steps are so
short, that the pupil can easily take them._
Most teachers forget the difference between the pupil's capacity and
their own, and they pass rapidly forward, through a difficult train of
thought, in their own ordinary gait, their unfortunate followers vainly
trying to keep up with them. The case is precisely analagous to that of
the father, who walks with the step of a man, while his little son is by
his side, wearying and exhausting himself, with fruitless efforts to
reach his feet as far, and to move them as rapidly, as a full gown man.
But to show what I mean by subdividing a difficult process, so as to
make each step simple, I will take a case which may serve as an example.
I will suppose that the teacher of a common school, undertakes to show
his boys, who, we will suppose, are acquainted with nothing but
elementary arithmetic, how longitude is ascertained, by means of the
eclipses of Jupiter's satellites; not a very simple question, (as it
would, at first view, strike one,) but still one which, like all others,
may be, merely by the power of the subdivision alluded to, easily
explained. I will suppose that the subject has come up at a general
exercise,--perhaps the question was asked in writing, by one of the
older boys. I will present the explanation, chiefly in the form of
question and answer, that it may be seen, that the steps are so short,
that the boys may take them themselves.
"Which way," asks the teacher, "are the Rocky Mountains from us?"
"West," answer two or three of the boys.
In such cases as this, it is very desirable that the answers should be
general, so that throughout the school, there should be a spirited
interest in the questions and replies. This will never be the case, if a
small number of the boys only take part in the answers; and many
teachers complain, that, when they try this experiment, they can seldom
induce many of the pupils to take a part.
The reason ordinarily is, that they say that _any_ of the boys may
answer, instead of that _all_ of them may. The boys do not get the idea
that it is wished that an universal reply should come from all parts of
the room in which every one's voice should be heard. If the answers were
feeble, in the instance we are supposing, the teacher would perhaps say;
"I only heard one or two answers: do not more of you know where the
Rocky Mountains are? Will you all think, and answer together? Which way
are they from us?"
"West," answer a large number of boys.
"You do not answer fully enough yet; I do not think more than forty
answered, and there are about sixty here. I should like to have _every
one in the room_ answer, and all precisely together."
He then repeats the question, and obtains a full response. A similar
effort will always succeed.
"Now, does the sun, in going round the earth, pass over the Rocky
Mountains, or over us, first?"
To this question, the teacher hears a confused answer. Some do not
reply; some say, "Over the Rocky Mountains;" others, "Over us;" and
others still, "The sun does not move at all."
"It is true that the sun, strictly speaking, does not move; the earth
turns round, presenting the various countries, in succession, to the
sun, but the effect is precisely the same as it would be, if the sun
moved, and accordingly I use that language. Now, how long does it take
the sun to pass round the earth?"
"Twenty four hours."
"Does he go towards the west, or towards the east, from us?"
"Towards the west."
But it is not necessary to give the replies; the questions alone will be
sufficient. The reader will observe that they inevitably lead the pupil,
by short and simple steps, to a clear understanding of the point to be
explained.
"Will the sun go towards, or from, the Rocky Mountains, after leaving
us?"
"How long did you say it takes the sun to go round the globe, and come
to us again?"
"How long to go half round?" "Quarter round?"
"How long will it take him to go to the Rocky Mountains?"
No answer.
"You cannot tell. It would depend upon the distance. Suppose then the
Rocky Mountains were half round the globe, how long would it take the
sun to go to them?" "Suppose they were quarter round?"
"The whole distance is divided into portions called degrees; 360 in all.
How many will the sun pass, in going half round? In going quarter
round?"
"Ninety degrees then make one quarter of the circumference of the globe.
This you have already said will take six hours. In one hour then, how
many degrees will the sun pass over?"
Perhaps no answer. If so, the teacher will subdivide the question, on
the principle we are explaining, so as to make the steps such that the
pupils _can_ take them.
"How many degrees will the sun pass over in three hours?"
"Forty-five."
"How large a part of that, then, will he pass, in one hour?"
"One third of it."
"And what is one third of forty-five?"
The boys would readily answer fifteen, and the teacher would then dwell
for a moment, on the general truth, thus deduced, that the sun, in
passing round the earth, passes over fifteen degrees every hour.
"Suppose then it takes the sun one hour to go from us to the river
Mississippi, how many degrees west of us, would the river be?"
Having thus familiarized the pupils to the fact, that the motion of the
sun is a proper measure of the difference of longitude between two
places, the teacher must dismiss the subject, for a day, and when the
next opportunity of bringing it forward occurs, he would perhaps take
up the subject of the sun's motion as a measure of _time_.
"Is the sun ever exactly over our heads?"
"Is he ever exactly south of us?"
"When he is exactly south of us, or in other words, exactly opposite to
us, in his course round the earth, he is said to be in our meridian. For
the word meridian means a line drawn exactly north or south from any
place."
There is no limit to the simplicity which may be imparted, even to the
most difficult subjects, by subdividing the steps. This point for
instance, the meaning of meridian, may be the subject, if it were
necessary, of many questions, which would render it simple to the
youngest child. The teacher may point to the various articles in the
room, or buildings, or other objects without, and ask if they are or are
not in his meridian. But to proceed:
"When the sun is exactly opposite to us, in the south, at the highest
point to which he rises, what o'clock is it?"
"When the sun is exactly opposite to us, can he be opposite to the Rocky
Mountains?"
"Does he get opposite to the Rocky Mountains, before, or after, he is
opposite to us?"
"When he is opposite to the Rocky Mountains, what o'clock is it there?"
"Is it twelve o'clock here, then, before, or after it is twelve o'clock
there?"
"Suppose the river Mississippi is fifteen degrees from us, how long is
it twelve o'clock here, before it is twelve o'clock there?"
"When it is twelve o'clock here then, what time will it be there?"
Some will probably answer "one," and some "eleven." If so, the step is
too long, and may be subdivided thus:
"When it is noon here, is the sun going towards the Mississippi, or has
he passed it?"
"Then has noon gone by, at that river, or has it not yet come?"
"Then will it be one hour before, or one hour after noon?"
"Then will it be eleven, or one?"
Such minuteness and simplicity would, in ordinary cases, not be
necessary. I go into it here, merely to show, how, by simply subdividing
the steps, a subject ordinarily perplexing, may be made plain. The
reader will observe that in the above, there are no explanations by the
teacher, there are not even leading questions; that is, there are no
questions whose form suggests the answers desired. The pupil goes on
from step to step, simply because he has but one short step to take at a
time.
"Can it be noon, then," continues the teacher, "here and at a place
fifteen degrees west of us, at the same time?"
"Can it be noon here, and at a place ten miles west of us, at the same
time?"
It is unnecessary to continue the illustration, for it will be very
evident to every reader, that by going forward in this way, the whole
subject may be laid out before the pupils, so that they shall perfectly
understand it. They can, by a series of questions like the above, be led
to see by their own reasoning, that time, as denoted by the clock, must
differ in every two places, not upon the same meridian, and that the
difference must be exactly proportional to the difference of longitude.
So that a watch, which is right in one place, cannot, strictly speaking,
be right in any other place, east or west of the first: and that, if the
time of day, at two places, can be compared, either by taking a
chronometer from one to another, or by observing some celestial
phenomenon, like the eclipses of Jupiter's satellites, and ascertaining
precisely the time of their occurrence, according to the reckoning at
both; the distances east or west, by degrees, may be determined. The
reader will observe, too, that the method by which this explanation is
made, is strictly in accordance with the principle I am
illustrating,--which is by simply _dividing the process into short
steps_. There is no ingenious reasoning on the part of the teacher, no
happy illustrations; no apparatus, no diagrams. It is a pure process of
mathematical reasoning, made clear and easy by _simple analysis_.
In applying this method, however, the teacher should be very careful not
to subdivide too much. It is best that the pupils should walk as fast as
they can. The object of the teacher should be to smooth the path, not
much more than barely enough to enable the pupil to go on. He should not
endeavor to make it very easy.
(2.) Truths must not only be taught to the pupils, but they must be
_fixed_, and _made familiar_. This is a point which seems to be very
generally overlooked.
"Can you say the Multiplication Table?" said a teacher, to a boy, who
was standing before him, in his class.
"Yes sir."
"Well, I should like to have you say the line beginning nine times one."
The boy repeated it slowly, but correctly.
"Now I should like to have you try again, and I will, at the same time,
say another line, to see if I can put you out."
The boy looked surprised. The idea of his teacher's trying to perplex
and embarrass him, was entirely new.
"You must not be afraid," said the teacher; "you will undoubtedly not
succeed in getting through, but you will not be to blame for the
failure. I only try it, as a sort of intellectual experiment."
The boy accordingly began again, but was soon completely confused by the
teacher's accompaniment; he stopped in the middle of his line saying,
"I could say it, only you put me out."
"Well, now try to say the Alphabet, and let me see if I can put you out
there."
As might have been expected the teacher failed. The boy went regularly
onward to the end.
"You see now," said the teacher to the class which had witnessed the
experiment, "that this boy knows his Alphabet, in a different sense,
from that in which he knows his Multiplication table. In the latter, his
knowledge is only imperfectly his own; he can make use of it only under
favorable circumstances. In the former it is entirely his own;
circumstances have no control over him."
A child has a lesson in Latin Grammar to recite. She hesitates and
stammers, miscalls the cases, and then corrects herself, and if she gets
through at last, she considers herself as having recited well; and very
many teachers would consider it well too. If she hesitates a little
longer than usual, in trying to summon to her recollection a particular
word, she says, perhaps, "Don't tell me," and if she happens at last to
guess right, she takes her book with a countenance beaming with
satisfaction.
"Suppose you had the care of an infant school," might the instructer say
to such a scholar; "and were endeavoring to teach a little child to
count, and she should recite her lesson to you in this way; 'One, two,
four, no, three;--one, two, three,-- -- stop, don't tell me,--five--no
four--four--, five,-- -- -- I shall think in a minute,--six--is that
right? five, six, &c.' Should you call that reciting well?"
Nothing is more common than for pupils to say, when they fail of
reciting their lesson, that they could say it at their seats, but that
they cannot now say it, before the class. When such a thing is said for
the first time, it should not be severely reproved, because nine
children in ten honestly think, that if the lesson was learned so that
it could be recited any where, their duty is discharged. But it should
be kindly, though distinctly explained to them, that, in the business of
life, they must have their knowledge so much at command, that they can
use it, at all times, and in all circumstances, or it will do them
little good.
One of the most common causes of difficulty in pursuing mathematical
studies, or studies of any kind, where the succeeding lessons depend
upon those which precede, is the fact that the pupil, though he may
understand what precedes, is not _familiar_ with it. This is very
strikingly the case with Geometry. The class study the definitions, and
the teacher supposes they fully understand them; in fact, they do
_understand_ them, but the name and the thing are so feebly connected in
their minds, that a direct effort, and a short pause, are necessary to
recall the idea, when they hear or see the word. When they come on
therefore to the demonstrations, which, in themselves, would be
difficult enough, they have double duty to perform. The words used do
not readily suggest the idea, and the connexion of the ideas requires
careful study. Under this double burden, many a young geometrician sinks
discouraged.
A class should go on slowly, and dwell on details, so long as to fix
firmly, and make perfectly familiar, whatever they undertake to learn.
In this manner, the knowledge they acquire will become their own. It
will be incorporated, as it were, into their very minds, and they cannot
afterwards be deprived of it.
The exercises which have for their object this rendering familiar what
has been learned, may be so varied as to interest the pupil very much,
instead of being tiresome, as it might, at first be supposed.
Suppose, for instance, a teacher has explained to a large class in
grammar, the difference between an adjective and an adverb: if he leave
it here, in a fortnight, one half would have forgotten the distinction,
but by dwelling upon it, a few lessons, he may fix it for ever. The
first lesson might be to write twenty short sentences containing only
adjectives. The second to write twenty, containing only adverbs. The
third, to write sentences in two forms, one containing the adjective,
and the other expressing the same idea by means of the adverb, arranging
them in two columns, thus,
He writes well. | His writing is good.
Again, they may make out a list of adjectives, with the adverbs derived
from each, in another column. Then they may classify adverbs on the
principle of their meaning, or according to their termination. The
exercise may be infinitely varied, and yet the object of the whole may
be, to make _perfectly familiar_, and to fix for ever in the mind, the
distinction explained.
These two points seem to me to be fundamental, so far as assisting
pupils through the difficulties which lie in their way, is concerned.
Diminish the difficulties as far as is necessary, by merely shortening
and simplifying the steps, and make thorough work as you go on. These
principles carried steadily into practice, will be effectual, in
leading any mind through any difficulties which may occur. And though
they cannot perhaps be fully applied to every mind, in a large school,
yet they can be so far acted upon, in reference to the whole mass, as to
accomplish the object for a very large majority.
3. _General cautions._ A few miscellaneous suggestions, which we shall
include under this head, will conclude this chapter.
(1.) Never do any thing _for_ a scholar, but teach him to do it for
himself. How many cases occur, in the schools of our country, where the
boy brings his slate to the teacher, saying he cannot do a certain sum.
The teacher takes the slate and pencil,--performs the work in
silence,--brings the result,--and returns the slate to the hands of his
pupil, who walks off to his seat, and goes to work on the next example;
perfectly satisfied with the manner in which he is passing on. A man who
has not done this a hundred times himself, will hardly believe it
possible that such a practice can prevail. It is so evidently a waste of
time, both for master and scholar.
(2.) Never get out of patience with dulness. Perhaps I ought to say,
never get out of patience with any thing. That would perhaps be the
wisest rule. But above all things, remember that dulness and stupidity,
and you will certainly find them in every school, are the very last
things to get out of patience with. If the Creator has so formed the
mind of a boy, that he must go through life slowly and with difficulty,
impeded by obstructions which others do not feel, and depressed by
discouragements which others never know, his lot is surely hard enough,
without having you to add to it the trials and suffering, which sarcasm
and reproach from you, can heap upon him. Look over your school-room,
therefore, and wherever you find one, whom you perceive the Creator to
have endued with less intellectual power than others, fix your eye upon
him with an expression of kindness and sympathy. Such a boy will have
suffering enough from the selfish tyranny of his companions; he ought to
find in you, a protector and friend. One of the greatest pleasures which
a teacher's life affords, is, the interest of seeking out such an one,
bowed down with burdens of depression and discouragement,--unaccustomed
to sympathy and kindness, and expecting nothing for the future, but a
weary continuation of the cheerless toils, which have imbittered the
past;--and the pleasure of taking off the burden, of surprising the
timid disheartened sufferer by kind words and cheering looks, and of
seeing, in his countenance, the expression of ease and even of
happiness, gradually returning.
(3.)The teacher should be interested in _all_ his scholars, and aim
equally to secure the progress of all. Let there be no neglected ones in
the school room. We should always remember that, however unpleasant in
countenance and manners that bashful boy, in the corner, may be, or
however repulsive in appearance, or unhappy in disposition, that girl,
seeming to be interested in nobody, and nobody appearing interested in
her, they still have, each of them, a mother, who loves her own child,
and takes a deep and constant interest in its history. Those mothers
have a right too, that their children should receive their full share of
attention, in a school which has been established for the common and
equal benefit of all.
(4.) Do not hope or attempt to make all your pupils alike. Providence
has determined that human minds should differ from each other, for the
very purpose of giving variety and interest to this busy scene of life.
Now if it were possible for a teacher, so to plan his operations, as to
send his pupils forth upon the community, formed on the same model, as
if they were made by machinery, he would do so much, towards spoiling
one of the wisest of the plans which the Almighty has formed, for making
this world a happy scene. Let it be the teacher's aim to cooperate with,
not vainly to attempt to thwart the designs of Providence. We should
bring out those powers with which the Creator has endued the minds
placed under our control. We must open our garden to such influences as
shall bring forward all the plants, each, in a way corresponding to its
own nature. It is impossible, if it were wise, and it would be foolish,
if it were possible, to stimulate, by artificial means, the rose, in
hope of its reaching the size and magnitude of the apple-tree, or to
try to cultivate the fig and the orange, where wheat only will grow. No;
it should be the teacher's main design, to shelter his pupils from every
deleterious influence, and to bring every thing to bear upon the
community of minds before him, which will encourage, in each one, the
developement of its own native powers. For the rest, he must remember
that his province is to cultivate, not to create.
Error on this point, is very common. Many teachers, even among those who
have taken high rank, through the success with which they have labored
in this field, have wasted much time, in attempting to do what can never
be done; to form the character of those brought under their influence,
after a certain uniform model, which they have conceived as the standard
of excellence. Their pupils must write just such a hand, they must
compose in just such a style, they must be similar in sentiment and
feeling, and their manners must be formed according to a fixed and
uniform model; and when, in such a case, a pupil comes under their
charge whom Providence has designed to be entirely different from the
beau ideal adopted as the standard, more time and pains, and anxious
solicitude is wasted in vain attempts to produce the desired conformity,
than half the school require beside.
(5.) Do not allow the faults or obliquities of character, or the
intellectual or moral wants, of any individual, of your pupils, to
engross a disproportionate share of your time. I have already said, that
those who are peculiarly in need of sympathy or help, should receive the
special attention they seem to require; what I mean to say now, is, do
not carry this to an extreme. When a parent sends you a pupil, who, in
consequence of neglect or mismanagement, at home, has become wild and
ungovernable, and full of all sorts of wickedness, he has no right to
expect, that you shall turn your attention away from the wide field,
which, in your whole school-room, lies before you, to spend your time,
and exhaust your spirits and strength, in endeavoring to repair the
injuries which his own neglect has occasioned. When you open a school,
you do not engage, either openly or tacitly, to make every pupil who
may be sent to you, a learned or a virtuous man. You do engage to give
them all faithful instruction, and to bestow upon each such a degree of
attention, as is consistent with the claims of the rest. But it is both
unwise and unjust, to neglect the many trees in your nursery, which by
ordinary attention, may be made to grow straight and tall, and to bear
good fruit, that you may waste your labor upon a crooked stick, from
which all your toil can secure very little beauty or fruitfulness.
Let no one now understand me to say, that such cases are to be
neglected. I admit the propriety, and in fact, have urged the duty, of
paying to them a little more than their due share of attention. What I
now condemn is the practice, of which all teachers are in danger, of
devoting such a disproportionate and unreasonable degree of attention to
them, as to encroach upon their duties to others. The school, the whole
school, is your field, the elevation _of the mass_, in knowledge and
virtue, and no individual instance, either of dulness or precocity,
should draw you away from its steady pursuit.
(6.) The teacher should guard against unnecessarily imbibing those
faulty mental habits, to which his station and employment expose him.
Accustomed to command, and to hold intercourse with minds which are
immature and feeble, compared with our own, we gradually acquire habits,
that the rough collisions and the friction of active life, prevent from
gathering around other men. Narrowminded prejudices and prepossessions
are imbibed, through the facility, with which, in our own little
community, we adopt and maintain opinions. A too strong confidence in
our own views on every subject, almost inevitably comes, from never
hearing our opinions contradicted or called in question; and we express
those opinions in a tone of authority and even sometimes of arrogance,
which we acquire in the school-room, for there, when we speak, nobody
can reply.
These peculiarities show themselves first, and in fact, most commonly,
in the school-room; and the opinions thus formed, very often relate to
the studies and management of the school. One has a peculiar mode of
teaching spelling, which is successful almost entirely through the
magic influence of his interest in it, and he thinks no other mode of
teaching this branch, is even tolerable. Another must have all his
pupils write on the angular system, or the anti-angular system, and he
enters with all the zeal into a controversy on the subject, as if the
destiny of the whole rising generation, depended upon its decision. Tell
him that all that is of any consequence in any handwriting, is, that it
should be legible, rapid, and uniform, and that, for the rest, it would
be better that every human being should write a different hand, and he
looks upon you with astonishment, wondering that you cannot see the
vital importance of the question, whether the vertex of an o should be
pointed or round. So in every thing. He has _his way_ in every minute
particular,--a way from which he cannot deviate, and to which he wishes
every one else to conform.
This set, formal mannerism is entirely inconsistent with that
commanding, intellectual influence, which the teacher should exert in
the administration of his school. He should work, with what an artist
calls boldness and freedom of touch. Activity and enterprise of mind
should characterize all his measures, if he wishes to make bold,
original, and efficient men.
(7.) Assume no false appearances, in your school, either as to knowledge
or character. Perhaps it may justly be said to be the common practice of
teachers in this country, to affect dignity of deportment in the
presence of their pupils, which, in other cases, is laid aside; and to
pretend to superiority in knowledge, and an infallibility of judgment,
which no sensible man would claim before other sensible men, but which
an absurd fashion seems to require of the teacher. It can however
scarcely be said to be a fashion, for the temptation is almost
exclusively confined to the young and the ignorant, who think they must
make up by appearance, what they want in reality. Very few of the older,
and more experienced, and successful instructers in our country, fall
into it at all. But some young beginner, whose knowledge is very
limited, and who, in manner and habits, has only just ceased to be a
boy, walks into his school-room with a countenance of forced gravity,
and with a dignified and solemn step, which is ludicrous even to
himself. I describe accurately, for I describe from recollection. This
unnatural, and forced, and ludicrous dignity, cleaves to him like
disease, through the whole period of his duty. In the presence of his
scholars, he is always under restraint,--assuming a stiff, and formal
dignity, which is as ridiculous as it is unnatural. He is also obliged
to resort to arts which are certainly not very honorable, to conceal his
ignorance.
A scholar, for example, brings him a sum in arithmetic, which he does
not know how to perform. This may be the case with a most excellent
teacher,--and one well qualified for his business. In order to be
successful as a teacher, it is not necessary to understand every thing.
Instead, however, of saying frankly, I do not understand that example, I
will look at it and examine it, he looks at it embarrassed and
perplexed, not knowing how he shall escape the exposure of his
ignorance. His first thought is, to give some general directions to the
pupil, and send him to his seat to make a new experiment, hoping that in
some way or other, he scarcely knows how, he will get through; and, at
any rate, if he does not, the teacher at least gains time by
manoeuvre, and is glad to postpone his trouble, though he knows it
must soon return.
All efforts to conceal ignorance, and all affectation of knowledge not
possessed, are as unwise as they are dishonest. If a scholar asks a
question which you cannot answer, or brings you a difficulty which you
cannot solve, say frankly, "I do not know." It is the only way to avoid
continual anxiety and irritation, and the surest means of securing real
respect. Let the scholars understand that the superiority of the teacher
does not consist in his infallibility, or in his universal acquisitions,
but in a well balanced mind, where the boundary between knowledge and
ignorance is distinctly marked; in a strong desire to go forward, in
mental improvement; and in fixed principles of action, and systematic
habits. You may even take up in school, a study entirely new to you, and
have it understood at the outset, that you know no more of it than the
class commencing, but that you can be their guide, on account of the
superior maturity and discipline of your powers, and the comparative
ease with which you can meet and overcome difficulties. This is the
understanding which ought always to exist between master and scholars.
The fact that the teacher does not know every thing, cannot long be
concealed, if he tries to conceal it; and in this, as in every other
case, HONESTY IS THE BEST POLICY.
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.
Another teacher looks calmly at the scene, and says to himself, "What
shall I do to remove effectually these evils? If I can but interest the
boys in reform, it will be far more easy to effect it, than if I attempt
to accomplish it by the mere exercise of my authority."
In the meantime, things go on, during the reading, in their own way. The
teacher simply _observes_. He is in no haste to commence his operations.
He looks for the faults; watches, without seeming to watch, the
movements which he is attempting to control. He studies the materials
with which he is to work, and lets their true character develope itself.
He tries to find something to approve in the exercise, as it proceeds,
and endeavors to interest the class, by narrating some fact, connected
with the reading, or making some explanation which interests the boys.
At the end of the exercise, he addresses them, perhaps, as follows:
"I have observed, boys, in some military companies, that the officers
are very strict, requiring implicit and precise obedience. The men are
required to form a precise line." (Here there is a sort of involuntary
movement all along the line, by which, it is very sensibly
straightened.) "They make all the men stand erect," (At this word, heads
go up, and straggling feet draw in, all along the class,) "in the true
military posture. They allow nothing to be done in the ranks, but to
attend to the exercise," (John hastily crowds his apple into his
pocket,) "and thus they regulate every thing, in exact and steady
discipline, so that all things go on in a most systematic and scientific
manner. This discipline is so admirable in some countries, especially in
Europe, where much greater attention is paid to military tactics than in
our country, that I have heard it said by travellers, that some of the
soldiers who mount guard at public places, look as much like statues, as
they do like living men.
"Other commanders act differently. They let the men do pretty much as
they please. So you will see such a company lounging into a line, when
the drum beats, as if they took little interest in what was going on.
While the captain is giving his commands, one is eating his luncheon;
another is talking with his next neighbor. Part are out of the line;
part lounge on one foot; they hold their guns in every position; and on
the whole, present a very disorderly and unsoldier-like appearance.
"I have observed, too, that boys very generally prefer to _see_ the
strict companies, but perhaps they would prefer to _belong_ to the lax
ones."
"No sir;" "No sir;" say the boys.
"Suppose you all had your choice either to belong to a company like the
first one I described, where the captain was strict in all his
requirements, or to one like the latter, where you could do pretty much
as you pleased, which should you prefer?"
Unless I entirely mistaken in my idea of the inclinations of boys, it
would be very difficult to get a single honest expression of preference
for the latter. They would say with one voice,
"The first."
"I suppose it would be so. You would be put to some inconvenience by the
strict commands of the captain, but then you would be more than paid by
the beauty of regularity and order, which you would all witness. There
is nothing so pleasant as regularity, and nobody likes regularity more
than boys do. To show this, I should like to have you now form a line as
exact as you can."
After some unnecessary shoving and pushing, increased by the disorderly
conduct of a few bad boys, a line is formed. Most of the class are
pleased with the experiment, and the teacher takes no notice of the few
exceptions. The time to attend to _them_, will come by and by.
"Hands down." The boys obey.
"Shoulders back."
"There;--there is a very perfect line."
"Do you stand easily in that position?"
"Yes sir."
"I believe your position is the military one, now, pretty nearly; and
military men study the postures of the human body, for the sake of
finding the one most easy; for they wish to preserve as much as possible
of the soldiers' strength, for the time of battle. I should like to try
the experiment of your standing thus, at the next lesson. It is a very
great improvement upon your common mode. Are you willing to do it?"
"Yes sir;" say the boys.
"You will get tired, I have no doubt. In fact, I do not expect you will
succeed, the first day, very well. You will probably become restless and
uneasy, before the end of the lesson, especially the smaller boys. I
must excuse it, I suppose, if you do, as it will be the first time."
By such methods as these, the teacher will certainly secure a majority
in favor of all his plans. But perhaps some experienced teacher, who
knows from his own repeated difficulties with bad boys, what sort of
spirits the teacher of district schools has sometimes to deal with, may
ask, as he reads this,
"Do you expect that such a method as this, will succeed in keeping your
school in order? Why, there are boys in almost every school, whom you
would no more coax into obedience and order in this way, than you would
persuade the northeast wind to change its course by reasoning."
I know there are. And my readers are requested to bear in mind, that my
object is not now to show, how the whole government of the school may be
secured, but how one important advantage may be gained, which will
assist in accomplishing the object. All I should expect or hope for, by
such measures as these, is _to interest and gain over to our side, the
majority_. What is to be done with those who cannot be reached by such
kinds of influence, I shall endeavor presently to show. The object now
is, simply to gain the _majority_,--to awaken a general interest, which
you can make effectual in promoting your plans, and thus to narrow the
field of discipline, by getting those right, who can be got right by
such measures.
Thus securing a majority to be on your side in the general
administration of the school, is absolutely indispensable to success. A
teacher may, by the force of mere authority, so control his pupils, as
to preserve order in the school-room, and secure a tolerable progress in
study, but the heart will not be in it. The progress in knowledge must
accordingly be, in ordinary cases, slow, and the cultivation of moral
principle must be, in such a case, entirely neglected. The principles of
duty cannot be inculcated by fear; and though pain and terror must, in
many instances, be called in to coerce an individual offender, whom
milder measures will not reach, yet these agents, and others like them,
can never be successfully employed, as the ordinary motives to action.
They cannot produce any thing but mere external and heartless obedience
in the presence of the teacher, with an inclination to throw off all
restraint, when the pressure of stern authority is removed.
We should all remember that our pupils are, but a very short time, under
our direct control. Even when they are in school, the most untiring
vigilance will not enable us to watch, except for a very small portion
of the time, any individual. Many hours of the day, too, they are
entirely removed from our inspection, and a few months will take them
away from us altogether. Subjecting them then to mere external
restraint, is a very inadequate remedy for the moral evil, to which they
are exposed. What we aim at, is to bring forward and strengthen an
internal principle, which will act, when both parent and teacher are
away, and control where external circumstances are all unfavorable.
I have thus far under this head, been endeavoring to show the importance
of securing, by gentle measures, a majority of the scholars, to
co-operate with the teacher in his plans. The methods of doing this,
demand a little attention.
(1.) The teacher should study human nature as it exhibits itself in the
school-room, by taking an interest in the sports and enjoyments of the
pupils, and connecting, as much as possible, what is interesting and
agreeable, with the pursuits of the school, so as to lead the scholars
to like the place. An attachment to the institution and to the duties of
it, will give the teacher a very strong hold upon the community of mind
which exists there.
(2.) Every thing which is unpleasant in the discipline of the school
should be attended to, as far as possible, privately. Sometimes it is
necessary to bring a case forward in public, for reproof or punishment,
but this is seldom. In some schools, it is the custom to postpone cases
of discipline, till the close of the day, and then, just before the boys
are dismissed at night, all the difficulties are settled. Thus, day
after day, the impression which is last made upon their minds, is
received from a season of suffering, and terror, and tears.
Now such a practice may be attended with many advantages, but it seems
to be, on the whole, unwise. Awing the pupils, by showing them the
consequences of doing wrong, should be very seldom resorted to. It is
far better to allure them, by showing them the pleasures of doing right.
Doing right is pleasant to every body, and no persons are so easily
convinced of this, or rather so easily led to see it, as children. Now
the true policy is, to let them experience the pleasure of doing their
duty, and they will easily be allured to it.
In many cases, where a fault has been publicly committed, it seems, at
first view, to be necessary that it should be publicly punished; but the
end will, in most cases, be answered, if it is noticed publicly, so that
the pupils may know that it received attention, and then the ultimate
disposal of the case, may be made a private affair, between the teacher
and the individual concerned. If, however, every case of disobedience,
or idleness, or disorder, is brought out publicly before the school, so
that all witness the teacher's displeasure, and feel the effects of it,
(for to witness it, is to feel its most unpleasant effects,) the school
becomes, in a short time, hardened to such scenes. Unpleasant
associations become connected with the management of the school, and the
scholars are prepared to do wrong with less reluctance, since the
consequence is only a repetition of what they are obliged to see every
day.
Besides, if a boy does something wrong, and you severely reprove him in
the presence of his class, you punish the class, almost as much as you
do him. In fact, in many cases, you punish them more; for I believe it
is almost invariably more unpleasant for a good boy to stand by and
listen to rebukes, than for a bad boy to take them. Keep these things,
therefore, as much as possible, out of sight. Never bring forward cases
of discipline, except on mature deliberation, and for a distinct and
well-defined purpose.
(3.) Never bring forward a case of discipline of this kind, unless you
are sure that public opinion will go in your favor. If a case comes up,
in which the sympathy of the scholars is excited for the criminal, in
such a way as to be against yourself, it will always do more harm than
good. Now this, unless there is great caution, will often be the case.
In fact, it is probable that a very large proportion of the punishments
which are ordinarily inflicted in schools, only prepare the way for more
offences.
It is, however, possible to bring forward individual cases in such a
way, as to produce a very strong moral effect, of the right kind. This
is to be done by seizing upon those peculiar emergencies, which will
arise in the course of the administration of a school, and which each
teacher must watch for, and discover himself. They cannot be pointed
out. I may, however, give a clearer idea of what is meant, by such
emergencies, by an example. It is a case which actually occurred, as
here narrated.
In a school where nearly all the pupils were faithful and docile, there
were one or two boys, who were determined to find amusement in those
mischievous tricks, so common in schools and colleges. There was one boy
in particular, who was the life and soul of all these plans. Devoid of
principle, idle as a scholar, morose and sullen in his manners, he was,
in every respect, a true specimen of the whole class of mischief-makers,
wherever they are to be found. His mischief consisted, as usual, in such
exploits as stopping up the keyhole, upsetting the teacher's inkstand,
or fixing something to his desk to make a noise, and interrupt the
school.
It so happened, that there was a standing feud between the boys of his
neighborhood, and those of another, situated a mile or two from it. By
his malicious activity, he had stimulated this quarrel to a high pitch,
and was very obnoxious to the boys of the other party. One day, when
taking a walk, the teacher observed a number of boys with excited looks,
and armed with sticks and stones, standing around a shoe-maker's shop,
to which his poor pupil had gone for refuge from them. They had got him
completely within their power, and were going to wait until he should be
wearied with his confinement, and come out, when they were going to
inflict upon him the punishment they thought he deserved.
The teacher interfered, and by the united influence of authority,
management, and persuasion, succeeded in effecting a rescue. The boy
would probably have preferred to owe his safety to any one else, than to
the teacher, whom he had so often tried to tease; but he was glad to
escape in any way. The teacher said nothing about the subject, and the
boy soon supposed it was entirely forgotten.
But it was not forgotten. The teacher knew perfectly well that the boy
would, before long, be at his old tricks again, and was reserving this
story as the means of turning the whole current of public opinion
against such tricks should they again occur.
One day he came to school, in the afternoon, and found the room filled
with smoke; the doors and windows were all closed, though, as soon as he
came in, some of the boys opened them. He knew by this circumstance,
that it was roguery, not accident, which caused the smoke. He appeared
not to notice it, however, said he was sorry it smoked, and asked the
mischievous boy, for he was sure to be always near in such a case, to
help him fix the fire. The boy supposed it was understood to be
accidental, and perhaps secretly laughed at the dulness of his master.
In the course of the afternoon, the teacher ascertained, by private
inquiries, that his suspicions were correct, as to the author of the
mischief. At the close of school, when the studies were ended, and the
books laid away, he told the scholars that he wanted to tell them a
story.
He then, with a pleasant tone and manner, gave a very minute, and, to
the boys, a very interesting narrative of his adventure, two or three
weeks before, when he rescued this boy from his danger. He called him,
however, simply _a boy_, without mentioning his name, or even hinting
that he was a member of the school. No narrative could excite a stronger
interest among an audience of school-boys, than such an one as this; and
no act of kindness from a teacher, would make as vivid an impression, as
interfering to rescue a trembling captive, from such a situation as the
one this boy had been in.
The scholars listened with profound interest and attention, and though
the teacher said little about his share in the affair, and spoke of what
he did, as if it were a matter of course, that he should thus befriend a
boy in distress, an impression, very favorable to himself, must have
been made. After he had finished his narrative, he said,
"Now should you like to know who this boy was?"
"Yes sir;" "Yes sir;" said they, eagerly.
"It was a boy that you all know."
The boys looked around upon one another. Who could it be?
"He is a member of this school."
There was an expression of fixed, and eager, and increasing interest, on
every face in the room.
"He is here now," said the teacher, winding up the interest and
curiosity of the scholars, by these words, to the highest pitch.
"But I cannot tell you his name; for what return do you think he made to
me? To be sure it was no very great favor that I did him; I should have
been unworthy the name of teacher, if I had not done it for him, or for
any boy in my school. But at any rate, it showed my good wishes for
him,--it showed that I was his friend, and what return do you think he
made me for it? Why, to-day he spent his time between schools in filling
the room with smoke, that he might torment his companions here, and give
me trouble, and anxiety and suffering, when I should come. If I should
tell you his name, the whole school would turn against him for his
ingratitude."
The business ended here, and it put a stop, a final stop to all
malicious tricks in the school. Now it is not very often that so fine an
opportunity occurs, to kill, by a single blow, the disposition to do
wilful, wanton injury, as this circumstance afforded; but the principle
illustrated by it,--bringing forward individual cases of transgression,
in a public manner, only for the sake of the general effect, and so
arranging what is said and done as to produce the desired effect upon
the public mind, in the highest degree, may very frequently be acted
upon. Cases are continually occurring, and if the teacher will keep it
constantly in mind, that when a particular case comes before the whole
school, the object is an influence upon the whole, and not the
punishment or reform of the guilty individual, he will insensibly so
shape his measures, as to produce the desired result.
(4.) There should be a great difference made between the _measures you
take_ to prevent wrong, and the _feelings of displeasure_ against wrong,
when it is done. The former should be strict, authoritative, unbending;
the latter should be mild and gentle. Your measures, if uniform and
systematic will never give offence, however powerfully you may restrain
and control. It is the morose look, the harsh expression, the tone of
irritation and fretfulness which is so unpopular in school. The sins of
childhood are by nine tenths of mankind enormously overrated, and
perhaps none overrate them, more extravagantly, than teachers. We
confound the trouble they give us, with their real moral turpitude, and
measure the one by the other. Now if a fault prevails in school, one
teacher will scold and fret himself about it, day after day, until his
scholars are tired both of school and of him: and yet he will do nothing
effectual to remove it. Another will take efficient and decided
measures, and yet say very little on the subject, and the whole evil
will be removed, without suspending for a moment, the good humor, and
pleasant feeling, which should prevail in school.
The expression of your displeasure on account of any thing that is
wrong, will seldom or never do any good. The scholars consider it
scolding; it is scolding, and though it may, in many cases, contain many
sound arguments and eloquent expostulations, it operates simply as a
punishment. It is unpleasant to hear it. General instruction must indeed
be given, but not general reproof.
(5.) Feel that, in the management of the school, _you_ are under
obligation as well as the scholars, and let this feeling appear in all
that you do. Your scholars wish you to dismiss school earlier than usual
on some particular occasion, or to allow them an extra holiday. Show by
the manner in which you consider and speak of the question, that your
main inquiry is what is _your duty_. Speak often of your responsibility
to your employers, not formally, but incidentally and naturally as you
will speak, if you feel this responsibility.
It will assist very much too, in securing cheerful, good-humored
obedience to the regulations of the school, if you extend their
authority over yourself. Not that the teacher is to have no liberty from
which the scholars are debarred; this would be impossible. But the
teacher should submit, himself, to every thing which he requires of his
scholars, unless it is in cases where a different course is
_necessary_.
Suppose for instance, a study card, like the one described in a
preceding chapter, is made, so as to mark the time of recess and of
study. The teacher near the close of recess, is sitting with a group of
his pupils around him, telling them some story. They are all interested,
and they see he is interested. He looks at his watch, and shows by his
manner, that he is desirous of finishing what he is saying, but that he
knows that the striking of the bell will cut short his story. Perhaps he
says not a word about it, but his pupils see that he is submitting to
the control which is placed over them: and when the card goes up, and he
stops instantly in the middle of his sentence, and rises with the rest,
each one to go to his own place, to engage at once in their several
duties, he teaches them a most important lesson, and in the most
effectual way. Such a lesson of fidelity and obedience, and such an
example of it, will have more influence, than a half hour's scolding
about whispering without leave, or a dozen public punishments. At least
so I find it, for I have tried both.
Show then continually, that you see and enjoy the beauty of system and
strict discipline, and that you submit to it yourself, as well as
require it of others.
(6.) Lead your pupils to see that they must share with you, the credit
or the disgrace, which success or failure may bring. Lead them to feel
this, not by telling them so, for there are very few things which can be
impressed upon children by direct efforts to impress them; but by so
speaking of the subject, from time to time, as to lead them to see that
you understand it so.
Repeat, with judicious caution, what is said of the school, both for and
against it, and thus endeavor to interest the scholars in its public
reputation. This feeling of interest in the institution may very easily
be awakened. It sometimes springs up, spontaneously, and where it is not
guided aright by the teacher, sometimes produces very bad effects upon
the minds of the pupils, in rival institutions. When two schools are
situated near each other, evil consequences will result from this
feeling, unless the teacher manages it so as to deduce good
consequences. I recollect, that, in my boyish days, there was a standing
quarrel between the boys of a town school and an academy, which were in
the same village. We were all ready, at any time, when out of school, to
fight for the honor of our respective institutions, but very few were
ready to be diligent and faithful, when in it, though it would seem that
that might have been rather a more effectual means of establishing the
point. If the scholars are led to understand that the school is to a
great extent their institution, that they must assist to sustain its
character, and that they share the honor if any honor is acquired, a
feeling will prevail in the school, which may be turned to a most useful
account.
(7.) In giving instruction on moral duty, the subject should be taken up
generally, in reference to imaginary cases, or cases which are unknown
to most of the scholars. If this is done, the pupils feel that the
object of bringing up the subject is to do good; whereas, if questions
of moral duty are only brought up, from time to time, when some
prevailing or accidental fault in school calls for it, the feeling will
be that the teacher is only endeavoring to remove from his own path a
source of inconvenience and trouble. The most successful mode of giving
general moral instruction that I have known, and which has been adopted
in many schools, with occasional variations of form, is the following.
When the time has arrived a subject is assigned, and small papers are
distributed to the whole school, that all may write something concerning
it. These are then read and commented on by the teacher, and are made
the occasion of any remarks, which he may wish to make. The interest is
strongly excited to hear the papers read, and the instruction which the
teacher may give, produces a deeper effect, when engrafted thus, upon
something which originates in the minds of the pupils.
To take a particular case; a teacher addressed his scholars thus. "The
subject for the moral exercise to day, is _Prejudice_. Each one may take
one of the papers which have been distributed, and you may write upon
them any thing you please relating to the subject. As many as have
thought of any thing to write, may raise their hands."
One or two only of the older scholars gave the signal.
"I will mention the kinds of communications you can make, and perhaps
what I say will suggest something to you. As fast as you think of any
thing, you may raise your hands, and as soon as I see a sufficient
number up, I will give directions to begin. You can describe any case in
which you have been prejudiced, yourselves, either against persons or
things."
Here a number of the hands went up.
"You can mention any facts relating to antipathies of any kind, or any
cases where you know other persons to be prejudiced. You can ask any
questions in regard to the subject, questions about the nature of
prejudice, or the causes of it, or the remedy for it."
As he said this, many hands were successively raised, and at last,
directions were given for them to begin to write. Five minutes were
allowed, and at the end of that time the papers were collected and read.
The following specimens, transcribed verbatim from the originals, with
the remarks made, as nearly as they could be remembered immediately
after the exercise, will give an idea of the ordinary operation of this
plan.
"I am very much prejudiced against spiders, and every insect in the
known world, with scarcely an exception. There is a horrid
sensation created by their ugly forms, that makes me wish them all
to Jericho. The butterfly's wings are pretty, but he is dreadful
ugly. There is no affectation in this, for my pride will not permit
me to show this prejudice to any great degree, when I can help it.
I do not fear the little wretches; but I do hate them.
Anti-Spider-Sparer."
"This is not expressed very well, the phrases, "_to Jericho_" and
"_dreadful ugly_," are vulgar, and in very bad taste. Such a dislike too
is more commonly called an antipathy, than a prejudice, though perhaps
it comes under the general head of prejudices."
"How may we overcome prejudice? I think that when we are prejudiced
against a person, it is the hardest thing in the world to overcome
it."
"A prejudice is usually founded on some unpleasant association
connected with the subject of it. The best way to overcome the
prejudice, therefore, is to connect some pleasant association with it.
"For example, (to take the case of the antipathy to the spider, alluded
to in the last article,) the reason why that young lady dislikes
spiders, is undoubtedly because she has some unpleasant idea associated
with the thought of that animal, perhaps for example, the idea of their
crawling upon her--which is certainly not a very pleasant one for any
body. Now the way to correct such a prejudice, is to try to connect some
pleasant thoughts with the sight of the animal.
"I once found a spider in an empty apartment, hanging in its web on the
wall, with a large ball of eggs which it had suspended by its side. My
companion and myself cautiously brought up a tumbler under the web, and
pressed it suddenly against the wall, so as to enclose both spider and
eggs within it. We then contrived to run in a pair of shears, so as to
cut off the web, and let both the animal and its treasure fall down into
the tumbler. We put a book over the top, and walked off with our prize,
to a table, to see what it would do.
"At first it tried to climb up the side of the tumbler, but its feet
slipped, from the smooth glass. We then inclined the glass, so as to
favor its climbing and to enable it to reach the book at the top. As
soon as it touched the book, it was safe. It could cling to the book
easily, and we placed the tumbler again upright, to watch its motions.
"It attached a thread to the book and let itself down by it to the
bottom of the tumbler, and walked round and round the ball of eggs,
apparently in great trouble. Presently it ascended by its thread, and
then came down again. It attached a new thread to the ball, and then
went up, drawing the ball with it. It hung the ball at a proper distance
from the book, and bound it firmly in its place by threads running from
it, in every direction, to the parts of the book which were near, and
then the animal took its place, quietly by its side.
"Now I do not say, that if any body had a strong antipathy to a spider,
seeing one perform such a work as this would entirely remove it; but it
would certainly soften it. It would _tend_ to remove it. It would
connect an interesting and pleasant association, with the object. So if
she should watch a spider in the fields making his web. You have all
seen those beautiful, regular webs, in the morning dew, ("Yes, sir,"
"Yes sir.") composed of concentric circles, and radii diverging in every
direction. ("Yes sir.") Well, watch a spider when making one of these,
or observe his artful ingenuity and vigilance, when he is lying in wait
for a fly. By thus connecting pleasant ideas, with the sight of the
animal, you will destroy the unpleasant association which constitutes
the prejudice. In the same manner, if I wished to create an antipathy to
a spider, in a child, it would be very easily done. I would tie her
hands behind her, and put three or four upon her, to crawl over her
face.
"Thus you must destroy prejudices in all cases, by connecting pleasant
thoughts and associations with the objects of them."
"I am very often prejudiced against new scholars, without knowing
why?"
"We sometimes hear a person talk in this way, 'I do not like such, or
such a person, at all.'"
"'Why?'
"'Oh I don't know, I do not like her at all. I can't bear her.'
"'But why not. What is your objection to her.'
"'Oh I don't know, I have not any particular reason, but I never did
like her.'
"Now whenever you hear any person talk so, you may be sure that her
opinion, on any subject, is worth nothing at all. She forms opinions in
one case, without grounds, and it depends merely upon accident, whether
she does not, in other cases."
"Why is it that so many of our countrymen are, or seem to be
prejudiced against the unfortunate children of Africa? Almost every
_large white_ boy, who meets a _small black_ boy, insults him, in
some way or other."
"It is so hard to _overcome_ prejudices, that we ought to be
careful how we _form_ them."
"When I see a new scholar enter this school and she does not happen
to suit me exactly in her ways and manners, I very often get
prejudiced against her, though sometimes I find her a valuable
friend, after I get acquainted with her."
"There is an inquiry I should like very much to make, though I suppose
it would not be quite right to make it. I should like to ask all those
who have some particular friend in school, and who can recollect the
impression which the individual made upon them when they first saw her,
to rise, and then I should like to inquire in how many cases the first
impression was favorable, and in how many unfavorable."
"Yes sir." "Yes sir."
"Do you mean you would like to have the inquiry made?"
"Yes sir."
"All, then, who have intimate friends, and can recollect the impression
which they first made upon them, may rise."
[About thirty rose; more than two thirds of whom voted that the first
impression made by the persons who had since become their particular
friends, was unfavorable.]
"This shows how much dependence you can justly place on first
impressions."
"It was the next Monday morning, after I had attained the wise age
of 4 years, that I was called up into my mother's room, and told
that I was the next day going to school.
"I called forth all my reasoning powers, and with all the ability
of a child of four years, I reasoned with my mother, but to no
purpose. I told her that I _hated_ the school mistress then; though
I had never seen her. The very first day I tottered under the
weight of the mighty foolscap. I only attended her school two
quarters; with prejudice I went, and with prejudice I came away.
"The old school-house is now torn down, and a large brick house
takes the place of it. But I never pass by without remembering my
teacher. I am prejudiced to [against] the very spot.
* * * * *
"Is it not right to allow prejudice, to have influence over our
minds as far as this? If any thing comes to our knowledge, with
which wrong seems to be connected, and one in whom we have always
felt confidence is engaged in it, is it not right to allow our
prejudice in favor of this individual to have so much influence
over us, as to cause us to believe that all is really right, though
every circumstance which has come to our knowledge is against such
a conclusion? I felt this influence not many weeks since, in a very
great degree."
"No; it would not be prejudice in such a case. That is, a _prejudice_
would not be a sufficient ground to justify withholding blame. Well
grounded confidence in such a person, if there was reason for it, ought
to leave such an effect, but not prejudice."
* * * * *
The above may be considered as a fair specimen of the ordinary operation
of such an exercise. It is taken as an illustration, not by selection
from the large number of similar exercises which I have witnessed, but
simply because it was an exercise occurring at the time when a
description was to be written. Besides the articles quoted above, there
were thirty or forty others, which were read and commented on. The above
will, however, be sufficient to give the reader a clear idea of the
exercise, and to show what is the nature of the moral effect it is
calculated to produce.
The subjects which may be advantageously brought forward in such a way,
are of course very numerous. They are such as the following. In
connexion with each, give the suggestions as to the kind of articles to
be written, which the pupils may receive at the time the subject is
assigned.
1. DUTIES TO PARENTS. Anecdotes of good or bad conduct at home.
Questions. Cases where it is most difficult to obey. Dialogues
between parents and children. Excuses which are often made for
disobedience.
2. SELFISHNESS. Cases of selfishness any of the pupils have
observed. Dialogues they have heard exhibiting it. Questions about
its nature. Indications of selfishness.
3. FAULTS OF THE SCHOOL. Any bad practices the scholars may have
observed in regard to general deportment, recitations, habits of
study, or the scholars' treatment of one another. Each scholar may
write what is his own greatest trouble in school, and whether he
thinks any thing can be done to remove it. Any thing they think can
be improved in the management of the school by the Teacher.
Unfavorable things they have heard said about it, out of school,
though without names.
4. EXCELLENCES OF THE SCHOOL. Good practices, which ought to be
persevered in. Any little incidents the scholars may have noticed
illustrating good character. Cases which have occurred in which
scholars have done right, in temptation, or when others around were
doing wrong. Favorable reports in regard to the school, in the
community around.
5. THE SABBATH. Any thing the scholars may have known to be done on
the Sabbath which they doubt whether right or wrong. Questions in
regard to the subject. Various opinions they have heard expressed.
Difficulties they have in regard to proper ways of spending the
Sabbath.
(8.) We have one other method to describe, by which a favorable moral
influence may be exerted in school. The method can, however, go into
full effect, only where there are several pupils who have made
considerable advances in mental cultivation.
It is to provide a way, by which teachers and pupils may write,
anonymously, for the school. This may be done by having a place of
deposit for such articles as may be written, where any person may leave
what he wishes to have read, nominating, by a memorandum, upon the
article itself, the reader. If a proper feeling on the subject of good
discipline, and the formation of good character, prevails in school,
many articles, which will have a great deal of effect upon the pupils,
will find their way through such an avenue, once opened. The teacher can
himself often bring forward, in this way, his suggestions, with more
effect than he otherwise could do. Such a plan is, in fact like the plan
of a newspaper for an ordinary community, where sentiments and opinions
stand on their own basis, and influence the community just in proportion
to their intrinsic merits, unassisted by the authority of the writer's
name, and unimpeded by any prejudice which may exist against him. In my
own school, this practice has had a very powerful effect. I have,
myself, often thus anonymously addressed my pupils, and I have derived
great assistance from communications which many of the pupils have
written. Sometimes we have had full discussions of proposed measures,
and at others, criticisms of the management of the school, or of
prevailing faults. Sometimes good humored satires, and sometimes simple
descriptions. 'Tis true the practice is not steadily kept up. Often,
for months together, there is not an article offered. Still the place of
deposit remains, and, after a time, some striking communication is made,
which awakens general attention, and calls out other pens, until the
fifteen minutes, corresponding to the afternoon General Exercise, in the
plan provided in a preceding chapter, (which is all which is allowed to
be devoted to such purposes,) is not sufficient to read what is daily
offered. Of course, in such a plan as this, the teacher must have the
usual editorial powers, to comment upon what is written, or to alter or
suppress it at pleasure.[A]
[Footnote A: The following articles, which were really offered for such
a purpose, will serve as specimens. One or two were written by teachers.
I do not know the authors of the others. I do not offer them as
remarkable compositions: every teacher will see that they are not so.
The design of inserting them is merely to show that the ordinary
literary ability to be found in every school, may be turned to useful
account, by simply opening a channel for it, and to furnish such
teachers as may be inclined to try the experiment, the means of making
the plan clearly understood by their pupils.
MARKS OF A BAD SCHOLAR.
"At the time when she should be ready to take her seat at school,
she commences preparation for leaving home. To the extreme
annoyance of those about her, all is now hurry and bustle and ill
humor. Thorough search is to be made for every book or paper, for
which she has occasion; some are found in one place, some in
another, and others are forgotten altogether. Being finally
equipped, she casts her eye at the clock, hopes to be in tolerable
good season, (notwithstanding that the hour for opening the school
has already arrived,) and sets out, in the most violent hurry.
After so much haste, she is unfitted for attending properly to the
duties of the school, until a considerable time after her arrival.
If present at the devotional exercises, she finds it difficult to
command her attention, even when desirous of so doing, and her
deportment at this hour, is accordingly marked with an unbecoming
listlessness and abstraction.
When called to recitations, she recollects that some task was
assigned, which till that moment, she had forgotten; of others she
had mistaken the extent, most commonly thinking them to be shorter
than her companions suppose. In her answers to questions with which
she should be familiar, she always manifests more or less of
hesitation, and what she ventures to express, is very commonly in
the form of a question. In these, as in all exercises, there is an
inattention to general instructions. Unless what is said be
addressed particularly to herself, her eyes are directed towards
another part of the room; it may be her thoughts are employed about
something not at all connected with the school. If reproved by her
teacher, for negligence in any respects, she is generally provided
with an abundance of excuses, and however mild the reproof, she
receives it as a piece of extreme severity.
Throughout her whole deportment, there is an air of indolence, and
a want of interest in those exercises which should engage her
attention. In her seat, she most commonly sits in some lazy
posture;--either with her elbows upon her desk, her head leaning
upon her hands, or with her seat tipped forwards or backwards. When
she has occasion to leave her seat, it is in a sauntering,
lingering gait;--perhaps some trick is contrived on the way, for
exciting the mirth of her companions.
About every thing in which it is possible to be so, she is untidy.
Her books are carelessly used, and placed in her desk without
order. If she has a piece of waste paper to dispose of, she finds
it much more convenient to tear it into small pieces, and scatter
it about her desk, than to put it in a proper place. Her hands and
clothes are usually covered with ink. Her written exercises are
blotted, and full of mistakes."
THE CONSEQUENCES OF BEING BEHINDHAND.
"The following incident, which I witnessed on a late journey,
illustrates an important principle, and I will relate it.
When our steamboat started from the wharf, all our passengers had
not come. After we had proceeded a few yards, there appeared among
the crowd on the wharf, a man with his trunk under his arm,--out of
breath,--and with a most disappointed and disconsolate air. The
Captain determined to stop for him, but stopping an immense
steamboat, moving swiftly through the water, is not to be done in a
moment. So we took a grand sweep, wheeling majestically around an
English ship, which was at anchor in the harbor. As we came towards
the wharf again, we saw the man in a small boat, coming off from
it. As the steamboat swept round, they barely succeeded in catching
a rope from the stern, and then immediately the steam engine began
its work again, and we pressed forward,--the little boat following
us so swiftly, that the water around her was all in a foam.
They pulled upon the rope attached to the little boat, until they
drew it alongside. They then let down a rope with a hook in the end
of it, from an iron crane, which projected over the side of the
steamboat, and hooked it into a staple in the front of the small
boat. "_Hoist away_;" said the Captain. The sailors hoisted, and
the front part of the little boat began to rise, the stern still
ploughing and foaming through the water, and the man still in it,
with his trunk under his arm. They "hoisted away," until I began to
think that the poor man would actually tumble out behind. He clung
to the seat, and looked as though he was saying to himself, "I will
take care how I am tardy the next time." However, after awhile,
they hoisted up the stern of the boat, and he got safely on board.
_Moral._ Though coming to school a few minutes earlier or later,
may not in itself be a matter of much consequence, yet the habit of
being five minutes too late, if once formed, will, in actual life,
be a source of great inconvenience, and sometimes of lasting
injury."
NEW SCHOLARS.
"There is, at----, a young ladies' school, taught by Mr.----.
* * * * * * * * *
But with all these excellences, there is one fault, which I
considered a great one, and which does not comport with the general
character of the school for kindness and good feeling. It is the
little effort made by the scholars to become acquainted with the
new ones who enter. Whoever goes there, must push herself forward,
or she will never feel at home. The young ladies seem to forget,
that the new comer must feel rather unpleasantly, in the midst of a
hundred persons, to whom she is wholly a stranger, and with no one
to speak to. Two or three will stand together, and instead of
deciding upon some plan, by which the individual may be made to
feel at ease, something like the following conversation takes
place.
_Miss X._ How do you like the looks of Miss A., who entered school
to-day?
_Miss Y._ I don't think she is very pretty, but she looks as if she
might be a good scholar.
_Miss X._ She does not strike me very pleasantly; did you ever see
such a face? And her complexion is so dark, I should think she had
always lived in the open air; and what a queer voice she has!
_Miss Y._ I wonder if she has a taste for Arithmetic?
_Miss X._ She does not look as if she had much taste for any thing;
see, how strangely she fixes her hair.
_Miss S._ Whether she has much taste or not, some one of us ought
to go and get acquainted with her. See how unpleasantly she feels.
_Miss X._ I don't want to get acquainted with her, until I know
whether I shall like her or not.
Thus nothing is done to relieve her. When she does become
acquainted, all her first strange appearance is forgotten; but this
is sometimes not the case for several weeks. It depends entirely on
the character of the individual herself. If she is forward, and
willing to make the necessary effort, she can find many friends;
but if she is diffident, she has much to suffer. This arises
principally from thoughtlessness. The young ladies do not seem to
realize that there is any thing for them to do. They feel enough at
home themselves, and the remembrance of the time when they entered
school, does not seem to arise in their minds."
A SATIRICAL SPIRIT.
"I witnessed, a short time since, a meeting between two friends,
who had had but little intercourse before, for a long while. I
thought a part of their conversation might be useful, and I shall,
therefore, relate it, as nearly as I can recollect, leaving each
individual to draw her own inferences.
For some time, I sat silent but not uninterested, while the days of
'Auld Lang Syne' came up to the remembrance of the two friends.
After speaking of several individuals, who were among their former
acquaintances, one asked, 'Do you remember Miss W.?' 'Yes,' replied
the former, 'I remember her as the fear, terror, and abhorrence of
all who knew her.' _I_ knew the lady by report, and asked why she
was so regarded, the reply was, 'Because she was so severe, so
satirical in her remarks upon others. She spared neither friend or
foe.'
The friends resumed conversation. 'Did you know,' said the one who
had first spoken of Miss W., 'that she sometimes had seasons of
bitter repentance for indulging in this unhappy propensity of hers?
She would, at such times, resolve to be more on her guard, but
after all her good resolutions, she would yield to the slightest
temptations. When she was expressing, and apparently really
_feeling_ sorrow for having wounded the feelings of others, those
who knew her, would not venture to express any sympathy, for very
likely, the next moment, _that_ would be turned into ridicule. No
confidence could be placed in her.'
A few more facts will be stated respecting the same individual,
which I believe are strictly true. Miss W. possessed a fine and
well cultivated mind, great penetration, and a tact at
discriminating character, rarely equalled. She could, if she chose,
impart a charm to her conversation, that would interest, and even
fascinate those who listened to it; still she was not beloved.
Weaknesses and foibles met with unmerciful severity; and
well-meaning intentions and kind actions did not always escape
without the keen sarcasm, which it is so difficult for the best
regulated mind to bear unmoved. The mild and gentle seemed to
shrink from her, and thus she, who might have been the bright and
beloved ornament of the circle in which she moved, was regarded
with distrust, fear, and even hatred. This dangerous habit of
making satirical remarks was evinced in childhood; it was
cherished; 'it grew with her growth and strengthened with her
strength,' until she became what I have described." LAURA.
Though such a satirical spirit is justly condemned, a little
good-humored raillery may sometimes be allowed, as a mode of attacking
faults in school which cannot be reached by graver methods. The teacher
must not be surprised, if some things connected with his own
administration, come in, sometimes, for a share.
VARIETY.
"I was walking out, a few days since, and not being particularly in
haste, I concluded to visit a certain school for an hour or two. In
a few minutes after I had seated myself on the sofa, the '_Study
Card_,' was dropped, and the general noise and confusion, indicated
that recess had arrived. A line of military characters, bearing the
title of the 'Freedom's Band,' was soon called out, headed by one
of their own number. The tune chosen to guide them was Kendall's
march.
"'Please to form a regular line,' said the lady commander.
'Remember that there is to be no speaking in the ranks. Do not
begin to step, until I strike the bell. Miss B., I requested you
not to step until I gave the signal.'
"Presently the command was given, and the whole line _stepped_, for
a few minutes, to all intents and purposes. Again the bell
sounded;--'Some of you have lost the step,' said the general. 'Look
at me, and begin again. Left! Right! Left! Right!' The line was
once more in order, and I observed a new army on the opposite side
of the room, performing the same manoeuvres, always to the tune
of 'Kendall's March.' After a time, the recess closed, and order
was again restored. In about half an hour, I approached a class,
which was reciting behind the railing. 'Miss A.,' said a teacher,
'how many kinds of magnitude are there?' _Miss A._ ('Answer
inaudible.') _Several voices._ 'We can't hear.' _Teacher._ 'Will
you try to speak a little louder, Miss A.?'
"Some of the class at length seemed to guess the meaning of the
young lady; but _I_ was unable to do even that, until the answer
was repeated by the teacher. Finding that I should derive little
instruction from the recitation; I returned to the sofa.
"In a short time the _propositions_ were read. 'Proposed that the
committee be impeached, for not providing suitable pens.' 'Lost, a
pencil, with a piece of India-rubber attached to it, by a blue
riband,' &c. &c.
"Recess was again announced, and the lines commenced their
evolutions to the tune of Kendall's March.' Thought I, 'Oh! that
there were a new tune under the sun!'
"Before the close of school, some compositions were read. One was
entitled 'The Magical Ring,' and commenced, 'As I was sitting alone
last evening, I heard a gentle tap on the door, and immediately a
beautiful fairy appeared before me. She placed a ring on my finger,
and left me.' The next began, 'It is my week to write composition,
but I do not know what to say. However, I must write something, so
it shall be a dialogue.' Another was entitled the Magical Shoe,'
and contained a marvellous narration of adventures made in a pair
of shoes, more valuable than the farfamed 'seven league boots.' A
fourth began, 'Are you acquainted with that new scholar?' 'No; but
I don't believe I shall like her.' And soon the 'Magical Thimble,'
the 'Magical Eye-glass,' &c., were read, in succession, until I
could not but exclaim, 'How pleasing is variety!' School was at
length closed, and the young ladies again attacked the piano. 'Oh!'
repeated I, to myself, '_how pleasing is variety_!' as I left the
room, to the tune Of Kendall's March."]
By means like these, it will not be difficult for any teacher to obtain,
so far an ascendancy over the minds of his pupils, as to secure an
overwhelming majority in favor of good order, and co-operation with him
in his plans for elevating the character of the school. But let it be
distinctly understood, that this, and this only, has been the object of
this chapter, thus far: The first point brought up, was the
desirableness of making, at first, a favourable impression,--the
second, the necessity of taking general views of the condition of the
school, and aiming to improve it in the mass, and not merely to rebuke
or punish accidental faults,--and the third, the importance and the
means of gaining a general influence and ascendency over the minds of
the pupils. But, though an overwhelming majority can be reached by such
methods as these, all cannot. We must have the majority secured,
however, in order to enable us to reach and to reduce the others. But to
this work we must come at last.
4. I am therefore now to consider under a fourth general head, what
course is to be taken with _individual_ offenders, whom the general
influences of the school-room will not control.
(1.) The first point to be attended to, is to ascertain who they are.
Not by appearing suspiciously to watch any individuals, for this would
be almost sufficient to make them bad, if they were not so before.
Observe, however; notice, from day to day, the conduct of individuals,
not for the purpose of reproving or punishing their faults, but to
enable you to understand their characters. This work will often require
great adroitness, and very close scrutiny; and you will find, as the
results Of it, a considerable variety of character, which the general
influences above described, will not be sufficient to control. The
number of individuals will not he great, but the diversity of character
comprised in it, will be such, as to call into exercise all your powers
of vigilance and discrimination. On one seat, you will find a coarse,
rough looking boy, who will openly disobey your commands and oppose your
wishes; on another, a more sly rogue, whose demure and submissive look
is assumed, to conceal a mischief-making disposition. Here is one, whose
giddy spirit is always leading him into difficulty, but who is of so
open and frank a disposition, that you will most easily lead him back to
duty; but there is another, who, when reproved, will fly into a passion;
and there, a third, who will stand sullen and silent before you, when he
has done wrong, and is neither to be touched by kindness, nor awed by
authority.
Now all these characters must be studied. It is true that the caution
given in a preceding part of this chapter, against devoting undue and
disproportionate attention to such persons must not be forgotten. Still,
these individuals will require, and it is right that they should
receive, a far greater degree of attention, so far as the moral
administration of the school is concerned, than their mere numbers would
appear to justify. This is the field in which the teacher is to study
human nature; for here it shows itself without disguise. It is through
this class, too, that a very powerful moral influence is to be exerted
upon the rest of the school. The manner in which such individuals are
managed; the tone the teacher assumes towards them; the gentleness with
which he speaks of their faults, and the unbending decision with which
he restrains them from wrong, will have a most powerful effect upon the
rest of the school. That he may occupy this field, therefore, to the
best advantage, it is necessary that he should first thoroughly explore
it.
By understanding the dispositions and characters of such a class of
pupils as I have described, I do not mean merely watching them, with
vigilance, in school, so that none of their transgressions shall go
unobserved and unpunished. I intend a far deeper and more thorough
examination of character. Every boy has something or other which is good
in his disposition and character, which he is aware of, and on which he
prides himself; find out what it is, for it may often be made the
foundation, on which you may build the superstructure of reform. Every
one has his peculiar sources of enjoyment,--and objects of pursuit,
which are before his mind from day to day; find out what they are, that
by taking an interest in what interests him, and perhaps sometimes
assisting him in his plans, you can bind him to you. Every boy is, from
the circumstances in which he is placed at home, exposed to temptations,
which have perhaps, had a far greater influence in the formation of his
character, than any deliberate and intentional depravity of his own;
ascertain what these temptations are, that you may know where to pity
him, and where to blame. The knowledge which such an examination of
character will give you, will not be confined to making you acquainted
with the individual. It will be the most valuable knowledge which a man
can possess, both to assist him in the general administration of the
school, and in his intercourse among mankind in the business of life.
Men are but boys, only with somewhat loftier objects of pursuit. Their
principles, motives, and ruling passions are essentially the same.
Extended commercial speculations are, so far as the human heart is
concerned, substantially what trading in jack-knives and toys is, at
school, and building a snow fort, to its own architects, the same as
erecting a monument of marble.
(2.) After exploring the ground, the first thing to be done, as a
preparation for reforming individual character, in school, is, to secure
the personal attachment of the individuals to be reformed. This must not
be attempted by professions and affected smiles, and still less by that
sort of obsequiousness, common in such cases, which produces no effect
but to make the bad boy suppose that his teacher is afraid of him;
which, by the way, is, in fact, in such cases, usually true. Approach
the pupil in a bold and manly, but frank and pleasant manner. Approach
him as his superior, but still, as his friend; desirous to make him
happy, not merely to obtain his good-will. And the best way to secure
these appearances, is, just to secure the reality. Actually be the boy's
friend. Really desire to make him happy;--happy, too, in his own way,
not in yours. Feel that you are his superior, and that you must and will
enforce obedience; but with this feel, that probably obedience will be
rendered, without any contest. If these are really the feelings which
reign within you, the boy will see it, and they will exert a strong
influence over him, but you cannot counterfeit appearances.
A most effectual way to secure the good will of a scholar, is, to ask
him to assist you. The Creator has so formed the human heart, that doing
good must be a source of pleasure, and he who tastes this pleasure once,
will almost always wish to taste it again. To do good to any individual,
creates or increases the desire to do it.
There is a boy in your school, who is famous for his skill in making
whistles from the green branches of the poplar. He is a bad boy, and
likes to turn his ingenuity to purposes of mischief. You observe him
some day in school, when he thinks your attention is engaged in another
way, blowing softly upon one, which he has concealed in his desk, for
the purpose of amusing his neighbors, without attracting the attention
of the teacher. Now there are two remedies. Will you try the physical
one? Then call him out into the floor; inflict painful punishment, and
send him smarting to his seat, with his heart full of anger and revenge,
to plot some new and less dangerous scheme of annoyance. Will you try
the moral one? Then wait till the recess, and while he is out at his
play, send a message out by another boy, saying that you have heard he
is very skilful in making whistles, and asking him to make one for you
to carry home to a little child at your boarding-house. What would, in
ordinary cases, be the effect? It would certainly be a very simple
application; but its effect would be, to open an entirely new train of
thought and feeling for the boy. "What!" he would say to himself, while
at work on his task, "give the master _pleasure_ by making whistles! Who
ever heard of such a thing? I never thought of any thing but giving him
trouble and pain.--I wonder who told him I could make whistles?" He
would find, too, that the new enjoyment was far higher and purer than
the old, and would have little disposition to return to the latter.
I do not mean by this illustration, that such a measure as this, would
be the only notice that ought to be taken of such an act of wilful
disturbance in school. Probably it would not. What measures in direct
reference to the fault committed, would be necessary, would depend upon
the circumstances of the case. It is not necessary to our purpose, that
they should be described here.
The teacher can awaken in the hearts of his pupils, a personal
attachment for him, by asking in various ways, their assistance in
school, and then appearing honestly gratified with the assistance
rendered. Boys and girls are delighted to have what powers and
attainments they possess, brought out into action, especially where they
can lead to useful results. They love to be of some consequence in the
world, and will be especially gratified to be able to assist their
teacher. Even if the studies of a turbulent boy are occasionally
interrupted for half an hour, that he might help you arrange papers, or
rule books, or cut the tops of quills, or distribute exercises, it will
be time well spent. Get him to co-operate with you in any thing, and he
will feel how much pleasanter it is to co-operate, than to thwart and
oppose; and by judicious measures of this kind, almost any boy may be
brought over to your side.
Another means of securing the personal attachment of boys, is to notice
them,--to take an interest in their pursuits, and the qualities and
powers which they value in one another. It is astonishing what an
influence is exerted by such little circumstances, as stopping at a play
ground a moment, to notice with interest, though perhaps without saying
a word, speed of running,--or exactness of aim,--the force with which a
ball is struck,--or the dexterity with which it is caught or thrown. The
teacher must, indeed, in all his intercourse with his pupils, never
forget his station, nor allow them to lay aside the respect, without
which authority cannot be maintained. But he may be, notwithstanding
this, on the most intimate and familiar footing with them all. He may
take a strong and open interest in all their enjoyments, and thus awaken
on their part, a personal attachment to himself, which will exert over
them a constant and powerful control.
(3.) The efforts described under the last head, for gaining a personal
influence over those, who from their disposition and character are most
in danger of doing wrong, will not be sufficient entirely to prevent
transgression. Cases of deliberate, intentional wrong will occur, and
the question will rise, what is the duty of the teacher in such an
emergency? When such cases occur, the course to be taken is, first of
all, to come to a distinct understanding on the subject with the guilty
individual. Think of the case calmly, until you have obtained just and
clear ideas of it. Endeavor to understand precisely in what the guilt of
it consists. Notice every palliating circumstance, and take as favorable
a view of the thing as you can, while, at the same time, you fix most
firmly in your mind the determination to put a stop to it. Then go to
the individual, and lay the subject before him, for the purpose of
understanding distinctly from his own lips, what he intends to do. I can
however, as usual, explain more fully what I mean, by describing a
particular case, substantially true.
The teacher of a school observed, himself, and learned from several
quarters, that a certain boy was in the habit of causing disturbance
during time of prayer, at the opening and close of school, by
whispering, playing, making gestures to the other boys, and throwing
things about from seat to seat. The teacher's first step was, to speak
of the subject, generally, before the whole school, not alluding,
however, to any particular instance which had come under his notice.
These general remarks produced, as he expected, but little effect.
He waited for some days, and the difficulty still continued. Had the
irregularity been very great, it would have been necessary to have taken
more immediate measures, but he thought the case admitted of a little
delay. In the meantime, he took a little pains to cultivate the
acquaintance of the boy, to discover and to show that he noticed what
was good in his character and conduct, occasionally to get from him some
little assistance, and thus to gain some personal ascendancy over him.
One day, when every thing had gone smoothly and pleasantly, the teacher
told the boy, at the close of school, that he wanted to talk with him a
little, and asked him to walk home with him. It was not uncommon for the
teacher to associate thus, with his pupils, out of school, and this
request, accordingly, attracted no special attention. On the walk, the
teacher thus accosted the criminal.
"Do you like frank, open dealing, James?"
James hesitated a moment, and then answered faintly, "Yes sir."
"Most boys do, and I do; and I supposed that you would prefer being
treated in that way. Do you?"
"Yes sir."
"Well, I am going to tell you of one of your faults. I have asked you to
walk with me, because I supposed it would be pleasanter for you to have
me see you privately, than to bring it up in school."
James said it would be pleasanter.
"Well, the fault is, being disorderly at prayer time. Now if you like
frank and open dealing, and are willing to deal so with me, I should
like to talk with you a little about it, but if you are not willing, I
will dismiss the subject. I do not wish to talk with you now about it,
unless you yourself desire it. But if we talk at all, we must both be
open, and honest, and sincere. Now should you rather have me talk with
you or not?"
"Yes sir, I should rather have you talk with me now, than in school."
The teacher then described his conduct, in a mild manner, using the
style of simple narration,--admitting no harsh epithets,--no terms of
reproach. The boy was surprised, for he supposed he had not been
noticed. He thought, perhaps he should have been punished, if he had
been observed. The teacher said in conclusion:
"Now, James, I do not suppose you have done this from any designed
irreverence towards God, or deliberate intention of giving me trouble
and pain. You have several times lately, assisted me, in various ways,
and I know from the cheerful manner with which you comply with my
wishes, that your prevailing desire is, to give me pleasure, not pain.
You have fallen into this practice through thoughtlessness; but that
does not alter the character of the sin. To do so, is a great sin
against God, and a great offence against good order in school. You see,
yourself, that my duty to the school, will require me to adopt the most
decided measures, to prevent the continuance and the spread of such a
practice. I should be imperiously bound to do it, even if the individual
was the very best friend I had in school, and if the measures necessary,
should bring upon him great disgrace and suffering. Do you not think it
would be so?"
"Yes sir," said James, seriously, "I suppose it would."
"I want to remove the evil, however, in the pleasantest way. Do you
remember my speaking on this subject, in school the other day?"
"Yes sir."
"Well, my object in that, was, almost entirely, to persuade you to
reform, without having to speak to you directly. I thought it would be
pleasanter to you to be reminded of your duty in that way. But I do not
think it did you much good. Did it?"
"I don't think I have played so much since then."
"Nor I. You have improved a little, but you have not decidedly and
thoroughly reformed. So I was obliged to take the next step which would
be least unpleasant to you; that is, talking with you alone. Now you
told me, when we began, that you would deal honestly and sincerely with
me, if I would with you. I have been honest and open. I have told you
all about it, so far as I am concerned. Now I wish you to be honest, and
tell me what you are going to do. If you think, from this conversation,
that you have done wrong, and if you are fully determined to do so no
more, and to break off at once, and for ever from this practice, I
should like to have you tell me, and then the whole thing will be
settled. On the other hand, if you feel about it pretty much as you have
done, I should like to have you tell me that too, honestly and frankly,
that we may have a distinct understanding, and that I may be considering
what to do next. I shall not be offended with you for giving me either
of these answers, but be sure that you are honest; you promised to be
so."
The boy looked up in his master's face, and said, with great
earnestness,
"Mr. T., I _will_ do better. I _will not_ trouble you any more."
I have detailed this case, thus particularly, because it exhibits
clearly what I mean, by going directly and frankly to the individual,
and coming at once, to a full understanding. In nine cases out of ten,
this course will be effectual. For four years, and with a very large
school, I have found this sufficient, in every case of discipline which
has occurred, except in three or four instances, where something more
was required. To make it successful, however, it must be done properly.
Several things are necessary. It must be deliberate; generally better
after a little delay. It must be indulgent, so far as the view which the
teacher takes of the guilt of the pupil, is concerned; every palliating
consideration must be felt. It must be firm and decided, in regard to
the necessity of a change, and the determination of the teacher to
effect it. It must also be open and frank; no insinuations, no hints, no
surmises, but plain, honest, open dealing.
In many cases, the communication may be made most delicately, and most
successfully, in writing. The more delicately you touch the feelings of
your pupils, the more tender these feelings will become. Many a teacher
hardens and stupefies the moral sense of his pupils, by the harsh and
rough exposures, to which he drags out the private feelings of the
heart. A man may easily produce such a state of feeling in his
school-room, that to address even the gentlest reproof to any
individual, in the hearing of the next, would be a most severe
punishment; and on the other hand, he may so destroy that sensitiveness,
that his vociferated reproaches will be as unheeded as the idle wind.
If now, the teacher has taken the course recommended in this chapter; if
he has, by his general influence in the school, done all in his power to
bring the majority of his pupils to the side of order and discipline; if
he has then studied, attentively and impartially, the characters of
those who cannot thus be led; if he has endeavored to make them his
friends, and to acquire, by every means, a personal influence over them;
if, finally, when they do wrong, he goes, plainly, but in a gentle and
delicate manner, to them, and lays before them the whole case; if he has
done all this, he has gone as far as moral influence will carry him. My
opinion is, that this course, faithfully and judiciously pursued, will
in almost all instances succeed; but it will not in all; and where it
fails, there must be other, and more vigorous and decided measures. What
these measures of restraint or punishment shall be, must depend upon the
circumstances of the case; but in resorting to them, the teacher must be
decided and unbending.
The course above recommended, is not trying lax and inefficient
measures, for a long time, in hopes of their being ultimately
successful, and then, when they are found not to be so, changing the
policy. There should be, through the whole, the tone and manner of
_authority_, not of _persuasion_. The teacher must be a _monarch_, and
while he is gentle and forbearing, always looking on the favorable side
of conduct so far as guilt is concerned, he must have an eagle eye, and
an efficient hand, so far as relates to arresting the evil, and stopping
the consequences. He may slowly and cautiously, and even tenderly
approach a delinquent. He may be several days in gathering around him
the circumstances, of which he is ultimately to avail himself, in
bringing him to submission; but, while he proceeds thus slowly, and
tenderly, he must come with the air of authority and power. The fact
that the teacher bases all his plans, on the idea of his ultimate
authority, in every case, may be perfectly evident to all the pupils,
while he proceeds with moderation and gentleness, in all his specific
measures. Let it be seen, then, that the constitution of your school is
a monarchy, absolute and unlimited,--but let it also be seen, that the
one who holds the power, is himself under the control of moral
principle, in all that he does, and that he endeavors to make the same
moral principle which guides him, go as far as it is possible to make it
go, in the government of his subjects.
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.[B]
[Footnote B: In speaking of this common ground, and in commenting upon
it, I wish not to be understood that I consider these truths as
comprising all that is essential in Christianity. Very far from it. A
full expression of the Christian faith, would go far in advance of all
here presented. We must not confound however, what is essential to
prepare the way for the forgiveness of sin, with what is essential that
a child should understand, in order to secure his penitence and
forgiveness. The former is a great deal; the latter, very little.]
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."
Intelligent children will be interested even in so simple a point as
this,--much more interested than a maturer mind, unacquainted with the
peculiarities of children, would suppose. By bringing up, from time to
time, some such literary inquiry as this, they will be led insensibly to
regard the Bible as opening a field for interesting intellectual
research, and will more easily be led to study it.
At another time, the teacher spends his five minutes in aiming to
accomplish a very different object. I will suppose it to be one of those
afternoons, when all has gone smoothly and pleasantly, in school. There
has been nothing to excite strong interest or emotion; and there has
been, (as every teacher knows there sometimes will be,) without any
assignable cause which he can perceive, a calm, and quiet, and happy
spirit, diffused over the minds and countenances of the little assembly.
His evening communication should accord with this feeling, and he should
make it the occasion to promote those pure and hallowed emotions in
which every immortal mind must find its happiness, if it is to enjoy
any, worth possessing.
When all is still, the teacher addresses his pupils as follows.
"I have nothing but a simple story to tell you to-night. It is true, and
the fact interested me very much when I witnessed it, but I do not know
that it will interest you now, merely to hear it repeated. It is this:
"Last vacation, I was travelling in a remote and thinly settled country,
among the mountains, in another state; I was riding with a gentleman on
an almost unfrequented road. Forests were all around us, and the houses
were small and very few.
"At length, as we were passing a humble and solitary dwelling, the
gentleman said to me, 'There is a young woman sick in this house; should
you like to go in and see her?' 'Yes sir' said I, 'very much. She can
have very few visiters I think, in this lonely place, and if you think
she would like to see us, I should like to go.'
"We turned our horses towards the door, and as we were riding up, I
asked what was the matter with the young woman.
"'Consumption,' the gentleman replied, 'and I suppose she will not live
long.'
"At that moment we dismounted and entered the house. It was a very
pleasant summer's afternoon, and the door was open. We entered and were
received by an elderly lady, who seemed glad to see us. In one corner of
the room was a bed, on which was lying the patient whom we had come to
visit. She was pale and thin in her countenance, but there was a very
calm and happy expression beaming in her eye. I went up to her bedside
and asked her how she did.
"I talked with her some time, and found that she was a Christian. She
did not seem to know whether she would get well again or not, and in
fact, she did not seem to care much about it. She was evidently happy
then, and believed she should continue so. She had been penitent for her
sins, and sought and obtained forgiveness, and enjoyed, in her
loneliness, not only the protection of God, but also his presence in her
heart, diffusing peace and happiness there. When I came into the house,
I said to myself, I pity, I am sure, a person who is confined by
sickness in this lonely place, with nothing to interest or amuse her;'
but when I came out, I said to myself, 'I do not pity her at all.'"
Never destroy the effect of such a communication as this, by attempting
to follow it up with an exhortation, or with general remarks, vainly
attempting to strengthen the impression.
_Never_, do I say? Perhaps there may be some exceptions. But children
are not reached by formal exhortations; their hearts are touched and
affected in other ways. Sometimes you must reprove, sometimes you must
condemn. But indiscriminate and perpetual harangues about the guilt of
impenitence, and earnest entreaties to begin a life of piety, only
harden the hearts they are intended to soften, and consequently confirm
those who hear them in the habits of sin.
In the same way a multitude of other subjects, infinite in number and
variety, may be brought before your pupils at stated seasons for
religious instruction. It is unnecessary to give any more particular
examples, but still it may not be amiss to suggest a few general
principles, which ought to guide those who are addressing the young, on
every subject, and especially on the subject of religion.
1. _Make no effort to simplify language._ Children always observe this,
and are always displeased with it, unless they are very young; and it is
not necessary. They can understand ordinary language well enough, if the
_subject_ is within their comprehension, and treated in a manner adapted
to their powers. If you doubt whether children can understand language,
tell such a story as this, with ardor of tone and proper gesticulation,
to a child only two or three years old;
"I saw an enormous dog in the street the other day. He was sauntering
along slowly, until he saw a huge piece of meat lying down on the
ground. He grasped it instantly between his teeth and ran away with all
speed, until he disappeared around a corner so that I could see him no
more."
In such a description, there is a large number of words which such a
child would not understand if they stood alone, but the whole
description would be perfectly intelligible. The reason is, the
_subject_ is simple; the facts are such as a very little child would be
interested in; and the connexion of each new word, in almost every
instance, explains its meaning. That is the way by which children learn
all language. They learn the meaning of words, not by definitions, but
by their connexion in the sentences in which they hear them; and by long
practice, they acquire an astonishing facility of doing this. 'Tis true
they sometimes mistake, but not often, and the teacher of children of
almost any age, need not be afraid that he shall not be understood.
There is no danger from his using the _language_ of men, if his subject,
and the manner in which he treats it, and the form and structure of his
sentences are what they ought to be. Of course there may be cases, in,
fact there often will be cases, where particular words will require
special explanation, but they will be comparatively few, and instead of
making efforts to avoid them, it will be better to let them come. The
pupils will be interested and profited by the explanation.
Perhaps some may ask what harm it will do, to simplify language, when
talking to children. "It certainly can do no injury," they may say, "and
it diminishes all possibility of being misunderstood." It does injury in
at least three ways.
(1.) It disgusts the young persons to whom it is addressed, and prevents
their being interested in what is said. I once met two children twelve
years of age, who had just returned from hearing a very able discourse,
delivered before a number of sabbath schools, assembled on some public
occasion. "How did you like the discourse?" said I.
"Very well indeed," they replied, "only," said one of them, smiling, "he
talked to us as if we were all little children."
Girls and boys however young, never consider themselves little children,
for they can always look down upon some younger than themselves. They
are mortified, when treated as though they could not understand what is
really within the reach of their faculties. They do not like to have
their powers underrated; and they are right in this feeling. It is
common to all, old and young.
(2) Children are kept back in learning language, if their teacher makes
effort to _come down_, as it is called, to their comprehension in the
use of words. Notice that I say, _in the use of words_, for as I shall
show presently, it is absolutely necessary to come down to the
comprehension of children, in some other respects. If however, in the
use of words, those who address children, confine themselves to such
words as children already understand, how are they to make progress in
that most important of all studies, the knowledge of language. Many a
mother keeps back her child, in this way, to a degree that is hardly
conceivable; thus doing all in her power to perpetuate in the child an
ignorance of its mother tongue.
Teachers ought to make constant efforts to increase their scholars'
stock of words, by using new ones from time to time, taking care to
explain them when the connexion does not do it for them. So that instead
of _coming down_ to the language of childhood, he ought rather to go as
far away from it, as he possibly can, without leaving his pupils behind
him.
(3) But perhaps the greatest evil of this practice is, it satisfies the
teacher. He thinks he addresses his pupils in the right manner, and
overlooks, altogether, the real peculiarities, in which the power to
interest the young depends. He talks to them in simple language, and
wonders why they are not interested. He certainly is _plain_ enough. He
is vexed with them for not attending to what he says, attributing it to
their dulness or regardlessness of all that is useful or good, instead
of perceiving that the great difficulty is his own want of skill. These
three evils are sufficient to deter the teacher from the practice.
2. Present your subject not in its _general views_, but in its _minute
details_. This is the great secret of interesting the young. Present it
in its details, and in its practical exemplifications; do this with any
subject whatever, and children will always be interested.
To illustrate this, let us suppose two teachers, wishing to explain to
their pupils the same subject, and taking the following opposite methods
of doing it. One, at the close of school, addresses his charge as
follows;
"The moral character of any action, that is, whether it is right or
wrong, depends upon the _motives_ with which it is performed. Men look
only at the outward conduct, but God looks at the heart. In order now
that any action should be pleasing to God, it is necessary it should be
performed from the motive of a desire to please him.
"Now there are a great many other motives of action which prevail among
mankind, besides this right one. There is love of praise, love of money,
affection for friends, &c."
By the time the teacher has proceeded thus far, he finds, as he looks
around the room, that the countenances of his pupils are assuming a
listless and inattentive air. One is restless in his seat, evidently
paying no attention. Another has reclined his head upon his desk, lost
in a reverie, and others are looking round the room, at one another, or
at the door, restless and impatient, hoping the dull lecture will soon
be over.
The other teacher says;
"I have thought of an experiment I might try, which would illustrate to
you a very important subject. Suppose I should call one of the boys, A.,
to me, and should say to him; 'I want you to go to your seat and
transcribe for me a piece of poetry, as handsomely as you can. If it is
written as well as you can possibly write it, I will give you 25 cents.'
Suppose I say this to him privately, so that none of the rest of the
boys can hear, and he goes to take his seat, and begins to work. You
perceive that I have presented to him a motive to exertion."
"Yes sir," say the boys, all looking with interest at the teacher,
wondering how this experiment is going to end.
"Well, what would that motive be?"
"Money." "The quarter of a dollar." "Love of money," or perhaps other
answers are heard, from the various parts of the room.
"Yes, love of money, it is called. Now suppose I should call another
boy, one with whom I was particularly acquainted, and, who, I should
know would make an effort to please me, and should say to him, 'For a
particular reason, I want you to copy this poetry'--giving him the
same--'I wish you to copy it handsomely, for I wish to send it away, and
have not time to copy it myself. Can you do it as well as not?'
"Suppose the boy should say he could, and should take it to his seat,
and begin; neither of the boys knowing what the other was doing. I
should now have offered to this second boy a motive. Would it be the
same with the other?"
"No sir."
"What was the other?"
"Love of money."
"What is this?"
The boys hesitate.
"It might be called," continues the teacher, "friendship. It is the
motive of a vast number of the actions which are performed in this
world.
"Do you think of any other common motive of action, besides love of
money and friendship?"
"Love of honor," says one "fear," says another.
"Yes," continues the teacher, "both these are common motives. I might,
to exhibit them, call two more boys, one after the other, and say to the
one, I will thank you to go and copy this piece of poetry as well as you
can. I want to send it to the school committee as a specimen of
improvement made in this school.
"To the other, I might say; 'you have been a careless boy to-day; you
have not got your lessons well. Now take your seat, and copy this
poetry. Do it carefully. Unless you take pains, and do it as well as you
possibly can, I shall punish you severely, before you go home.'
"How many motives have I got now? Four, I believe."
"Yes sir," say the boys.
"Love of money, friendship, love of honor, and fear. We called the first
boy A.; let us call the others, B. C and D.; no, we shall remember
better to call them by the name of their motives. We will call the
first, M. for money; the second, F. for friendship; the third, H. for
honor; and the last F.;--we have got an F. already; what shall we do? On
the whole, it is of no consequence, we will have two F.'s, we shall
remember not to confound them.
"But there are a great many other motives entirely distinct from these.
For example, suppose I should say to a fifth boy, 'Will you copy this
piece of poetry? it belongs to one of the little boys in school: he
wants a copy of it, and I told him I would try to get some one to copy
it for him.' This motive now would be benevolence; that is, if the boy,
who was asked to copy it, was not particularly acquainted with the
other, and did it chiefly to oblige him. We will call this boy B. for
Benevolence.
"Now suppose I call a sixth boy, and say to him, I have set four or five
boys to work, copying this piece of poetry; now I want you to set down
and see if you cannot do it better than any of them. No one of them
knows that any other is writing, except you, but after the others are
all done, I will compare them and see if yours is not the best.' This
would be trying to excite emulation. We must call this boy then, E.--But
the time I intended to devote to talking with you on this subject for
to-day, is expired. Perhaps, to-morrow, I will take up the subject
again."
The reader now will observe that the grand peculiarity of the
instructions given by this last teacher, as distinguished from those of
the first, consists in this; that the parts of the subject are presented
_in detail_, and in _particular exemplification_. In the first case, the
whole subject was despatched in a single, general, and comprehensive
description; in the latter, it is examined minutely, one point being
brought forward at a time. The discussions are enlivened too, by meeting
and removing such little difficulties, as will naturally come up, in
such an investigation. Boys and girls will take an interest in such a
lecture; they will regret to have it come to a conclusion, and will give
their attention when the subject is again brought forward, on the
following day. Let us suppose the time for continuing the exercise to
have arrived. The teacher resumes the discussion thus.
"I was talking to you yesterday about the motives of action; how many
had I made?"
Some say, "Four," some "Five," some "Six."
"Can you name any of them?"
The boys attempt to recollect them, and they give the names in the order
in which they accidentally occur to the various individuals. Of course,
the words Fear, Emulation, Honor, Friendship, and others, come in
confused and irregular sounds, from every part of the school-room.
"You do not recollect the order," says the teacher, "and it is of no
consequence, for the order I named was only accidental. Now to go on
with my account; suppose all these boys to sit down, and go to writing,
each one acting under the impulse of the motive which had been presented
to him individually. But in order to make the supposition answer my
purpose, I must add two other cases. I will imagine that one of these
boys is called away, a few minutes, and leaves his paper on his desk,
and that another boy, of an ill-natured and morose disposition,
happening to pass by and see his paper, thinks he will sit down and
write upon it a few lines, just to plague and vex the one who was called
away. We will also suppose that I call another boy to me, who, I have
reason to believe, is a sincere Christian, and say to him, 'Here is a
new duty for you to perform this afternoon. This piece of poetry is to
be copied; now do it carefully and faithfully. You know that this
morning you committed yourself to God's care during the day; now
remember he has been watching you all the time, thus far, and he will be
noticing you all the time you are doing this; he will be pleased if you
do your duty faithfully.'
"The boys thus all go to writing. Now suppose a stranger should come in,
and seeing them all busy, should say to me,
"'What are all these boys doing?'
"'They are writing.'
"'What are they writing?'
"'They are writing a piece of poetry.'
"'They seem to be very busy; they are very industrious, good boys.'
"'Oh no! it is not by any means certain that they are _good_ boys.'
"'I mean that they are good boys _now_; that they are doing right at
_this time_.'
"'_That_ is not certain; some of them are doing right and some are doing
very wrong; though they are all writing the same piece of poetry.'
"The stranger would perhaps look surprised while I said this, and would
ask an explanation, and I might properly reply as follows.
"'Whether the boys are, at this moment, doing right, or wrong, depends
not so much upon what they are doing, as upon the feelings of the heart
with which they are doing it. I acknowledge that they are all doing the
same thing outwardly,--they are all writing the same extract, and they
are all doing it attentively and carefully, but they are thinking of
very different things.'
"'What are they thinking of?'
"Do you see that boy?' I might say, pointing to one of them. His name is
M.' He is writing for money. He is saying to himself all the time, 'I
hope I shall get the quarter of a dollar.' He is calculating what he
shall buy with it, and every good or bad letter that he makes, he is
considering the chance whether he shall succeed or fail in obtaining
it.'
"'What is the next boy to him thinking of?'
"'His name is B. He is copying to oblige a little fellow, whom he
scarcely knows, and is trying to make his copy handsome so as to give
him pleasure. He is thinking how gratified his schoolmate will be when
he receives it, and is forming plans to get acquainted with him.'
"Do you see that boy in the back seat. He has maliciously taken another
boy's place just to spoil his work. He knows too that he is breaking the
rules of the school, in being out of his place, but he stays,
notwithstanding, and is delighting himself with thinking how
disappointed and sad his schoolmate will be, when he comes in and finds
his work spoiled, because he was depending on doing it all himself.'
"'I see,' the stranger might say by this time, 'that there is a great
difference among these boys; have you told me about them all?'
"'No,' I might reply, 'there are several others. I will only mention one
more. He sits in the middle of the second desk. He is writing carefully,
simply because he wishes to do his duty and please God. He thinks that
God is present, and loves him, and takes care of him, and he is obedient
and grateful in return. I do not mean that he is all the time thinking
of God, but love to him is his motive of effort.'
"Do you see now, boys, what I mean to teach you by this long
supposition?"
"Yes sir."
"I presume you do. Perhaps it would be difficult for you to express it
in words, I can express it in general terms, thus,
"_Our characters depend not on what we do, but on the spirit and motive
with which we do it._ What I have been saying throws light upon one
important verse in the Bible, which I should like to have read. James
have you a Bible in your desk?"
"Yes sir."
"Will you turn to 1 Samuel xvi: 7. and then rise and read it. Read it
loud, so that all the school can hear."
James reads as follows.
"MAN LOOKETH ON THE OUTWARD APPEARANCE, BUT GOD LOOKETH ON THE HEART."
This is the way to reach the intellect and the heart of the young. Go
_into detail_. Explain truth and duty, not in an abstract form, but
exhibit it, _in actual and living examples_.
(3.) Be very cautious how you bring in the awful sanctions of religion,
to assist you directly, in the discipline of your school. You will
derive a most powerful indirect assistance, from the influence of
religion in the little community which you govern. But this will be,
through the prevalence of its spirit in the hearts of your pupils, and
not from any assistance which you can usually derive from it in managing
particular cases of transgression. Many teachers make great mistakes in
this respect. A bad boy, who has done something openly and directly
subversive of the good order of the school, or the rights of his
companions, is called before the master, who thinks that the most
powerful weapon to wield against him is the Bible. So while the
trembling culprit stands before him, he administers to him a reproof,
which consists of an almost ludicrous mixture of scolding, entreaty,
religious instruction, and threatening of punishment. But such an
occasion as this is no time to touch a bad boy's heart. He is steeled,
at such a moment, against any thing but mortification, and the desire to
get out of the hands of the master; and he has an impression, that the
teacher appeals to religious principles, only to assist him to sustain
his own authority. Of course, religious truth, at such a time, can make
no good impression. There may be exceptions to this rule. There
doubtless are. I have found some; and every successful teacher who reads
this, will probably call some to mind, some which have occurred in the
course of his own experience. I am only speaking of what ought to be the
general rule, which is, to reserve religious truths for moments of a
different character altogether. Bring the principles of the Bible
forward when the mind is calm, when the emotions are quieted, and all
within is at rest; and in exhibiting them, be actuated not by a desire
to make your duties of government easier, but to promote the real and
permanent happiness of your charge.
(4.) Do not be eager to draw from your pupils, an expression of their
personal interest in religious truth. Lay before them, and enforce, by
all the means in your power, the principles of christian duty, but do
not converse with them for the purpose of gratifying your curiosity in
regard to their piety, or your spiritual pride by counting up the
numbers of those who have been led to piety by your influence. Beginning
to act from christian principles is the beginning of a new life, and it
may be an interesting subject of inquiry to you, to ascertain how many
of your pupils have experienced the change. But, in many cases, it would
merely gratify curiosity to know. There is no question too, that in very
many instances, the faint glimmering of religious interest, which would
have kindled into a bright flame, is extinguished at once and perhaps
for ever, by the rough inquiries of a religious friend. Besides if you
make inquiries, and form a definite opinion of your pupils, they will
know that this is your practice, and many a one will repose in the
belief that you consider him or her a Christian, and you will thus
increase the number, already unfortunately too large, of those, who
maintain the form and pretences of piety, without its power; whose
hearts are filled with self-sufficiency and spiritual pride, and perhaps
zeal for the truths and external duties of religion, while the real
spirit of piety has no place there. They trust to some imaginary change,
long since passed by, and which has proved to be spurious by its failing
of its fruits. The best way, in fact the only way, to guard against this
danger, especially with the young, is to show, by your manner of
speaking and acting on this subject, at all times, that you regard a
truly religious life, as the only evidence of piety;--and that
consequently, however much interest your pupils may apparently take in
religious instruction, they cannot know, and you cannot know, whether
Christian principle reigns within them, in any other way than by
following them through life and observing how, and with what spirit, the
various duties of it are performed.
There are very many fallacious indications of piety; so fallacious and
so plausible, that there are very few, even among intelligent
Christians, who are not often greatly deceived. "By their fruits ye
shall know them," said the Saviour, a direction sufficiently plain, one
would think, and pointing to a test, sufficiently easy to be applied.
But it is slow and tedious work to wait for fruits; and we accordingly
seek a criterion, which will help us quicker to a result. You see your
pupil serious and thoughtful. It is well: but it is not proof of piety.
You see him deeply interested when you speak of his obligations to his
Maker, and the duties he owes to him. This is well; but it is no proof
of piety. You know he reads his Bible daily and offers his morning and
evening prayers. When you speak to him of God's goodness, and of his
past ingratitude, his bosom heaves with emotion, and the tear stands in
his eye. It is all well. You may hope that he is going to devote his
life to the service of God. But you cannot know; you cannot even
believe, with any great confidence. These appearances are not piety.
They are not conclusive evidences of it. They are only, in the young,
faint grounds of hope, that the genuine fruits of piety will appear.
I am aware that there are many persons, so habituated to judging with
confidence of the piety of others, from some such indications as I have
described, that they will think I carry my cautions to the extreme.
Perhaps I do; but the Saviour said, "By their fruits ye shall know
them," and it is safest to follow his direction.
By the word fruits, however, our Saviour unquestionably does not mean,
the mere moral virtues of this life. The fruits to be looked at, are the
fruits of _piety_, that is, indications of permanent attachment to the
Creator, and a desire to obey his commands. We must look for these.
There is no objection to your giving particular individuals special
instruction, adapted to their wants and circumstances. You may do this,
by writing, or in other ways, but do not lead them to make up their
minds fully that they are Christians, in such a sense as to induce them
to feel that the work is done. Let them understand that becoming a
Christian is _beginning_ a work, not _finishing_ it. Be cautious how you
form an opinion even yourself on the question of the genuineness of
their piety. Be content not to know. You will be more faithful and
watchful if you consider it uncertain, and they will be more faithful
and watchful too.
(5.) Bring, very fully and frequently, before your pupils the practical
duties of religion in all their details, especially their duties at
home; to their parents and to their brothers and sisters. Do not,
however, allow them to mistake morality for religion. Show them clearly
what piety is, in its essence, and this you can do most successfully by
exhibiting its effects.
(6.) Finally let me insert as the keystone of all that I have been
saying in this chapter, be sincere, and ardent, and consistent, in your
own piety. The whole structure which I have been attempting to build,
will tumble into ruins without this. Be constantly watchful and
careful, not only to maintain intimate communion with God, and to renew
it daily in your seasons of retirement, but guard your conduct. Let
piety control and regulate it. Show your pupils that it makes you
amiable, patient, forbearing, benevolent in little things, as well as in
great things, and your example will co-operate with your instructions,
and allure your pupils to walk in the paths which you tread. But no
clearness and faithfulness in religious teaching will atone for the
injury which a bad example will effect. Conduct speaks louder than
words, and no persons are more shrewd than the young, to discover the
hollowness of empty professions, and the heartlessness of mere pretended
interest in their good.
* * * * *
I am aware that this book may fall into the hands of some, who may take
little interest in the subject of this chapter. To such I may perhaps
owe an apology, for having thus fully discussed a topic, in which only a
part of my readers can be supposed to be interested. My apology is this.
It is obvious and unquestionable that we all owe allegiance to the
Supreme. It is so obvious and unquestionable, as to be entirely beyond
the necessity of proof, for it is plain that nothing but such a bond of
union, can keep the peace, among the millions of distinct intelligences
with which the creation is filled. It is therefore the plain duty of
every man, to establish that connexion between himself and his Maker,
which the Bible requires, and to do what he can to bring others to the
peace and happiness of piety. These truths are so plain that they admit
of no discussion and no denial, and it seems to me highly unsafe, for
any man to neglect or to postpone the performance of the duty which
arises from them. A still greater hazard is incurred, when such a man
having forty or fifty fellow beings almost entirely under his influence,
leads them, by his example, away from their Maker, and so far, that he
must in many cases hopelessly confirm the separation. With these views I
could not, when writing on the duties of a teacher of the young, refrain
from bringing distinctly to view, this, which has so imperious a claim.
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_"[C] 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.
[Footnote C: This apparatus has been previously described. See p. 40.]
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 | SECOND | | THIRD | | FOURTH |
| | HOUR. | HOUR. | | HOUR. | | HOUR. |
+-------+----------+------------+--+--+-------------+--+--+-----------+
| | EVENING | LANGUAGES. |G.|R.|MATHEMATICS. |G.|R.| SECTIONS. |
| | LESSONS. | | | | | | | |
+-------+----+-----+------+-----+--+--+------+------+--+--+-----+-----+
|MONDAY.| | | | | | | | | | | | |
+-------+----+-----+------+-----+--+ +------+------+--+ +-----+-----+
| TUES. | | | | | | | | | | | | |
+-------+----+-----+------+-----+--+ +------+------+--+ +-----+-----+
| WED. | | | | | | | | | | | | |
+-------+----+-----+------+-----+--+ +------+------+--+ +-----+-----+
|THURS. | | | | | | | | | | | | |
+-------+----+-----+------+-----+--+ +------+------+--+ +-----+-----+
|FRIDAY.| | | | | | | | | | | | |
+-------+----+-----+------+-----+--+ +------+------+--+ +-----+-----+
| SAT. | | | | | | | | | | | | |
+-------+----+-----+------+-----+--+--+------+------+--+--+-----+-----+
_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.
C. D. }
E. F. } Witnesses.
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 the truth is, that in almost all such cases as this, the secret of
the success is, not that the teacher has discovered a _better_ method
than the ordinary ones, but that he has discovered a _new_ one. The
experiment will succeed in producing more successful results, just as
long as the novelty of it continues to excite unusual interest and
attention in the class, or the thought that it is a plan of the
teacher's own invention, leads him to take a peculiar interest in it.
And this may be a month, or perhaps a quarter, and precisely the same
effects would have been produced, if the whole had been reversed, that
is, if the plan of dictation had been the old one, which in process of
time had, in this supposed school, lost its interest, and the teacher by
his ingenuity and enterprise had discovered and introduced what is now
the common mode.
"Very well," perhaps my reader will reply, "it is surely something
gained to awaken and continue interest in a dull study, for a quarter,
or even a month. The experiment is worth something as a pleasant and
useful change, even if it is not permanently superior to the other."
It is indeed worth something. It is worth a great deal; and the teacher
who can devise and execute such plans, _understanding their real place
and value, and adhering steadily through them all, to the great object
which ought to engage his attention_, is in the almost certain road to
success as an instructer. What I wish is, not to discourage such
efforts; they ought to be encouraged to the utmost, but to have their
real nature and design, and the real secret of their success fully
understood, and to have the teacher, above all, take good care that all
his new plans are made, not the substitutes for the great objects which
he ought to keep steadily in view, but only the means by which he may
carry them into more full and complete effect.
In the case we are supposing however, we will imagine that the teacher
does not do this. He fancies that he has made an important discovery,
and begins to inquire whether the _principle_, as he calls it, cannot be
applied to some other studies. He goes to philosophizing upon it, and
can find many reasons why knowledge received through the ear makes a
more ready and lasting impression, than when it comes through the eye.
He tries to apply the method to Arithmetic and Geography, and in a short
time is forming plans for the complete metamorphosis of his school. When
engaged in hearing a recitation, his mind is distracted with his schemes
and plans; and instead of devoting his attention fully to the work he
may have in hand, his thoughts are wandering continually to new schemes
and fancied improvements, which agitate and perplex him, and which elude
his efforts to give them a distinct and definite form. He thinks he must
however, carry out his _principle_. He thinks of its applicability to a
thousand other cases. He revolves, over and over again in his mind,
plans for changing the whole arrangement of his school. He is again and
again lost in perplexity, his mind is engrossed and distracted, and his
present duties are performed with no interest, and consequently with
little spirit or success.
Now his error is in allowing a new idea, which ought only to have
suggested to him an agreeable change for a time, in one of his classes,
to swell itself into undue and exaggerated importance, and to draw off
his mind from what ought to be the objects of his steady pursuit.
Perhaps some teacher of steady intellectual habits and a well balanced
mind may think that this picture is fanciful, and that there is little
danger that such consequences will ever actually result from such a
cause. But far from having exaggerated the results, I am of opinion that
I might have gone much farther. There is no doubt that a great many
instances have occurred, in which some simple idea like the one I have
alluded to, has led the unlucky conceiver of it, in his eager pursuit
far deeper into the difficulty, than I have here supposed. He gets into
a contention with the school committee, that formidable foe to the
projects of all scheming teachers; and it would not be very difficult to
find many actual cases, where the individual has, in consequence of some
such idea, quietly planned and taken measures to establish some new
institution, where he can carry on, unmolested, his plans, and let the
world see the full results of his wonderful discoveries.
We have in our country a very complete system of literary institutions,
so far as external organization will go, and the prospect of success is
far more favorable in efforts to carry these institutions into more
complete and prosperous operation, than in plans for changing them, or
substituting others in their stead. Were it not that such a course would
be unjust to individuals, a long and melancholy catalogue might easily
be made out, of abortive plans which have sprung up in the minds of
young men, in the manner I have described, and which after perhaps
temporary success, have resulted in partial or total failure. These
failures are of every kind. Some are school-books on a new plan, which
succeed in the inventor's hand, chiefly on account of the spirit which
carried it into effect; but which in ordinary hands, and under ordinary
circumstances, and especially after long continued use, have failed of
exhibiting any superiority. Others are institutions, commenced with
great zeal by the projectors, and which succeed just as long as that
zeal continues. Zeal will make any thing succeed for a time. Others are
new plans of instruction or government, generally founded on some good
principle carried to an extreme, or made to grow into exaggerated and
disproportionate importance. Examples almost innumerable, of these
things might be particularized, if it were proper, and it would be found
upon examination, that the amount of ingenuity and labor wasted upon
such attempts, would have been sufficient, if properly expended, to have
elevated very considerably the standard of education, and to have placed
existing institutions in a far more prosperous and thriving state than
they now exhibit.
The reader will perhaps ask, shall we make no efforts at improvement?
Must every thing in education go on in a uniform and monotonous manner;
and while all else is advancing, shall our cause alone stand still? By
no means. It must advance; but let it advance mainly by the industry and
fidelity of those who are employed in it; by changes slowly and
cautiously made; not by great efforts to reach forward to brilliant
discoveries, which will draw off the attention from essential duties,
and after leading the projector through perplexities and difficulties
without number, end in mortification and failure.
Were I to give a few concise and summary directions in regard to this
subject to a young teacher, they would be the following:
1. Examine thoroughly the system of public and private schools as now
constituted in New England, until you fully understand it, and
appreciate its excellences and its completeness; see how fully it
provides for the wants of the various classes of our population.
By this I mean to refer only to the completeness of the _system_, as a
system of organization. I do not refer at all to the internal management
of these institutions: this last is, of course, a field for immediate
and universal effort at progress and improvement.
2. If after fully understanding this system as it now exists, you are
of opinion that something more is necessary; if you think some classes
of the community are not fully provided for, or that some of our
institutions may be advantageously exchanged for others, whose plan you
have in mind; consider whether your age, and experience, and standing,
as an instructer are such as to enable you to place confidence in your
opinion.
I do not mean by this, that a young man may not make a useful discovery;
but only that he may be led away by the ardor of early life, to fancy
that essential and important, which is really not so. It is important
that each one should determine whether this is not the case with
himself, if his mind is revolving some new plan.
3. Perhaps you are contemplating only a single new institution, which is
to depend for its success, on yourself and some coadjutors whom you have
in mind, and whom you well know. If this is the case, consider whether
the establishment you are contemplating can be carried on, after you
shall have left it, by such men as can ordinarily be obtained. If the
plan is founded on some peculiar notions of your own, which would enable
you to succeed in it, when others, also interested in such a scheme,
would probably fail, consider whether there may not be danger that your
plan may be imitated by others, who cannot carry it into successful
operation, so that it may be the indirect means of doing injury. A man
is, in some degree, responsible for his example, and for the
consequences which may indirectly flow from his course, as well as for
the immediate results which he produces. The Fellenberg school at Hofwyl
has perhaps, by its direct results, been as successful for a given time,
as perhaps any other institution in the world; but there is a great
offset to the good which it has thus done, to be found in the history of
the thousand wretched imitations of it, which have been started only to
linger a little while and die, and in which a vast amount of time, and
talent, and money have been wasted.
Consider the influence you may have upon the other institutions of our
country, by attaching yourself to some one under the existing
organization. If you take an academy or a private school, constituted
and organized like other similar institutions, success in your own, will
give you influence over others. A successful teacher of an academy,
raises the standard of academic instruction. A college professor, if he
brings extraordinary talents to bear upon the regular duties of that
office, throws light, universally, upon the whole science of college
discipline and instruction. By going, however, to some new field,
establishing some new and fanciful institution, you take yourself from
such a sphere;--you exert no influence over others, except upon feeble
imitators, who fail in their attempts, and bring discredit upon your
plans by the awkwardness with which they attempt to adopt them. How much
more service to the cause of education, have Professors Cleaveland and
Silliman rendered by falling in with the regularly organized
institutions of the country, and elevating them, than if in early life,
they had given themselves to some magnificent project of an
establishment, to which their talents would unquestionably have given
temporary success, but which would have taken them away from the
community of teachers, and confined the results of their labors to the
more immediate effects which their daily duties might produce.
5. Perhaps, however, your plan is not the establishment of some new
institution, but the introduction of some new study or pursuit into the
one with which you are connected. Before, however, you interrupt the
regular plans of your school to make such a change, consider carefully
what is the real and appropriate object of your institution. Every thing
is not to be done in school. The principles of division of labor apply
with peculiar force to this employment; so that you must not only
consider whether the branch, which you are now disposed to introduce, is
important, but whether it is really such an one as it is, on the whole,
best to include among the objects to be pursued in such an institution.
Many teachers seem to imagine, that if any thing is in itself important,
and especially if it is an important branch of education, the question
is settled of its being a proper object of attention in school. But this
is very far from being the case. The whole work of education can never
be intrusted to the teacher. Much must of course remain in the hands of
the parent; it ought so to remain. The object of a school is not to take
children out of the parental hands, substituting the watch and
guardianship of a stranger, for the natural care of father and mother.
Far from it. It is only the association of the children for those
purposes which can be more successfully accomplished by association. It
is an union for few, specific, and limited objects, for the
accomplishment of that part, (and it is comparatively a small part of
the general objects of education) which can be most successfully
affected by public institutions, and in assemblies of the young.
6. If the branch which you are desiring to introduce appears to you to
be an important part of education, and if it seems to you that it can be
most successfully attended to in schools, then consider whether the
introduction of it, _and of all the other branches having equal claims_,
will, or will not give to the common schools too great a complexity.
Consider whether it will succeed in the hands of ordinary teachers.
Consider whether it will require so much time and effort, as will draw
off, in any considerable degree, the attention of the teacher from the
more essential parts of his duty. All will admit that it is highly
important that every school should be simple in its plan,--as simple as
its size and general circumstances will permit, and especially, that the
public schools in every town and village of our country should never
lose sight of what is, and must be, after all, their great
design--_teaching the whole population to read, write, and calculate_.
7. If it is a school-book, which you are wishing to introduce, consider
well before you waste your time in preparing it, and your spirits in the
vexatious work of getting it through the press, whether it is, _for
general use_, so superior to those already published, as to induce
teachers to make a change in favor of yours. I have italicised the words
_for general use_, for no delusion is more common than for a teacher to
suppose, that because a text-book which he has prepared and uses in
manuscript, is better for _him_ than any other work which he can obtain,
it will therefore be better for _general circulation_. Every man, if he
has any originality of mind, has of course some peculiar method of his
own, and he can of course prepare a text-book which will be better
adapted to this method, than those ordinarily in use. The history of a
vast multitude of textbooks, Arithmetics, Geographies, and Grammars, is
this. A man of a somewhat ingenious mind, adopts some peculiar mode of
instruction in one of these branches, and is quite successful, not
because the method has any very peculiar excellence, but simply because
he takes a greater interest in it, both on account of its novelty and
also from the fact that it is his own invention. He conceives the plan
of writing a text-book, to develope and illustrate this method. He
hurries through the work. By some means or other, he gets it printed. In
due time it is regularly advertised. The Annals of Education gives
notice of it; the author sends a few copies to his friends, and that is
the end of it. Perhaps a few schools may make a trial of it, and if, for
any reason, the teachers who try it are interested in the work, perhaps
in their hands, it succeeds. But it does not succeed so well as to
attract general attention, and consequently does not get into general
circulation. The author loses his time and his patience. The publisher,
unless unfortunately it was published on the author's account, loses his
paper. And in a few months, scarcely any body knows that such a book
ever saw the light.
It is in this way, that the great multitude of school-books which are
now constantly issuing from the press, take their origin. Far be it from
me to discourage the preparation of good school-books. This department
of our literature offers a fine field for the efforts of learning and
genius. What I contend against, is the endless multiplicity of useless
works, hastily conceived and carelessly executed, and which serve no
purpose, but to employ uselessly, talents, which if properly applied,
might greatly benefit both the community and the possessor.
8. If, however, after mature deliberation you conclude that you have the
plan of a school-book which you ought to try to mature and execute, be
slow and cautious about it. Remember that so great is now the
competition in this branch, nothing but superior excellences will
secure the favorable reception of a work. Examine all that your
predecessors have done before you. Obtain, whatever may be the trouble
and expense, all other text books on the subject, and examine them
thoroughly. If you see that you can make a very decided advance on all
that has been done, and that the public will probably submit to the
inconvenience and expense of a change, to secure the result of your
labors, go forward slowly and thoroughly in your work. No matter how
much investigation, how much time and labor it may require. The more
difficulty you may find, in gaining the eminence, the less likely will
you be to be followed by successful competitors.
9. Consider in forming your text-book, not merely the whole subject on
which you are to write, but also look extensively and thoroughly at the
institutions throughout the country, and consider carefully the
character of the teachers by whom you expect it to be used. Sometimes a
man publishes a text-book, and when it fails on trial, he says, "It is
because they did not know how to use it. The book in itself was good.
The whole fault was in the awkwardness and ignorance of the teacher."
How absurd! As if to make a good text-book, it was not as necessary to
adapt it to teachers as to scholars. _A good text-book which the
teachers for whom it was intended did not know how to use!!_ i. e. A
good contrivance but entirely unfit for the purpose for which it was
intended.
10. Lastly, in every new plan, consider carefully whether its success in
your hands, after you have tried it, and found it successful, be owing
to its novelty and to your own special interest, or to its own innate
and intrinsic superiority. If the former, use it so long as it will
last, simply to give variety and interest to your plans. Recommend it in
conversation or in other ways to teachers with whom you are acquainted;
not as a wonderful discovery, which is going to change the whole science
of education, but as one method among others, which may be introduced
from time to time, to relieve the monotony of the teacher's labors.
In a word do not go away from the established institutions of our
country, or deviate from the great objects which are at present, and
ought to be pursued by them, without great caution, circumspection, and
deliberate inquiry. But within these limits, exercise ingenuity and
invention as much as you will. Pursue steadily the great objects which
demand the teacher's attention; they are simple and few. Never lose
sight of them, nor turn to the right or to the left to follow any ignis
fatuus which may endeavor to allure you away; but exercise as much
ingenuity and enterprise as you please, in giving variety and interest
to the modes by which these objects are pursued.
* * * * *
If planning and scheming are confined within these limits, and conducted
on these principles, the teacher will save all the agitating perplexity
and care which will otherwise be his continual portion. He can go
forward peaceably and quietly, and while his own success is greatly
increased, he may be of essential service to the cause in which he is
engaged, by making known his various experiments and plans to others.
For this purpose it seems to me highly desirable that every teacher
should KEEP A JOURNAL of all his plans. In these should be carefully
entered all his experiments: the new methods he adopts; the course he
takes in regard to difficulties which may arise; and any interesting
incidents which may occur, which it would be useful for him to refer to,
at some future time. These or the most interesting of them should be
made known to other teachers. This may be done in several ways.
(1.) By publishing them in periodicals devoted to education.
Such contributions, furnished by judicious men, would be among the most
valuable articles in such a work. They would be far more valuable than
any general speculations, however well conceived or expressed.
(2.) In news-papers intended for general circulation. There are very few
editors whose papers circulate in families, who would not gladly receive
articles of this kind, to fill a teacher's department in their columns.
If properly written they would be read with interest and profit by
multitudes of parents, and would throw much light on family government
and instruction.
(3.) By reading them in teacher's meetings. If half a dozen teachers who
are associated in the same vicinity, would meet once a fortnight, simply
to hear each other's journals, they would be amply repaid for their time
and labor. Teacher's meetings will be interesting and useful, when those
who come forward in them, will give up the prevailing practice of
delivering orations, and come down at once to the scenes and to the
business of the school-room.
There is one topic connected with the subject of this chapter, which
deserves a few paragraphs. I refer to the rights of the Committee, or
the Trustees, or Patrons, in the control of the school. The right to
such control, when claimed at all, is usually claimed in reference to
the teacher's new plans, which renders it proper to allude to the
subject here; and it ought not to be omitted, for a great many cases
occur, in which teachers have difficulties with the trustees or
committee of their school. Sometimes these difficulties have amounted to
an open rupture; at other times, only to a slight and temporary
misunderstanding, arising from what the teacher calls an unwise and
unwarrantable interference on the part of the committee, or the
trustees, in the arrangements of the school. Difficulties of some sort
very often arise. In fact, a right understanding of this subject, is, in
most cases, absolutely essential to the harmony and co-operation of the
teacher, and the representatives of his patrons.
There are then, it must be recollected, three different parties
connected with every establishment for education; the parents of the
scholars, the teacher, and the pupils themselves. Sometimes, as for
example, in a common private school, the parents are not organized, and
whatever influence they exert, they must exert in their individual
capacity. At other times, as in a common district or town school, they
are by law organized, and the school committee chosen for this purpose,
are their legal representatives. In other instances, a board of trustees
are constituted by the appointment of the founders of the institution,
or by the legislature of a state, to whom is committed the oversight of
its concerns, and who are consequently the representatives of the
founders and patrons of the school.
There are differences between these various modes of organization which
I shall not now stop to examine, as it will be sufficiently correct for
my purpose to consider them all as only various ways of organizing the
_employers_, in the contract, by which the teacher is employed. The
teacher is the agent; the patrons, represented in these several ways,
are the principals. When, therefore, in the following paragraphs, I use
the word _employers_, I mean to be understood to speak of the committee,
or the trustees, or the visiters, or the parents themselves, as the
case, in each particular institution, may be; that is, the persons, for
whose purpose, and at whose expense, the institution is maintained; or
their representatives.
Now there is a very reasonable, and almost universally established rule,
which teachers are very frequently prone to forget, viz., _the employed
ought always to be responsible to the employers, and to be under their
direction_. So obviously reasonable is this rule, and in fact, so
absolutely indispensable in the transaction of all the business of life,
that it would be idle to attempt to establish and illustrate it here. It
has, however, limitations, and it is applicable to a much greater
extent, in some departments of human labor, than in others. It is
_applicable_ to the business of teaching, and though, I confess, that it
is somewhat less absolute and imperious here, still, it is obligatory, I
believe, to far greater extent, than teachers have been generally
willing to admit.
A young lady, I will imagine, wishes to introduce the study of Botany
into her school. The parents or the committee object; they say, that
they wish the children to confine their attention exclusively to the
elementary branches of education. "It will do them no good," says the
chairman of the committee, "to learn by heart some dozen or two of
learned names. We want them to read well, to write well, and to
calculate well, and not to waste their time in studying about pistils
and stamens and nonsense."
Now what is the duty of the teacher in such a case? Why, very plainly
her duty is the same as that of the Governor of a state, where the
people, through their representatives, regularly chosen, negative a
proposal, which he considers calculated to promote the public good. It
is his duty to submit to the public will, and though he may properly do
all in his power, to present the subject to his employers in such a
light, as to lead them to regard it as he does, he must still, until
they do so regard it, bow to their authority; and every magistrate, who
takes an enlarged and comprehensive view of his duties as the executive
of a republican community, will do this without any humiliating feelings
of submission to unauthorized interference with his plans. He will, on
the other hand, enjoy the satisfaction of feeling that he confines
himself to his proper sphere, and leave to others, the full possession
of rights which properly pertain to them.
It is so with every case, where the relation of employer and employed
subsists. You engage a carpenter to erect a house for you, and you
present your plan; instead of going to work and executing your orders
according to your wishes, he goes to criticising and condemning it: he
finds fault with this, and ridicules that, and tells you, you ought to
make such and such an alteration in it. It is perfectly right for him to
give his opinion, in the tone and spirit of _recommendation or
suggestion_, with a distinct understanding that with his employer rests
the power and the right to decide. But how many teachers take possession
of their school room as though it was an empire in which they are
supreme, who resist every interference of their employers, as they would
an attack upon their personal freedom, and who feel, that in regard to
every thing connected with school, they have really no actual
responsibility.
In most cases, the employers, knowing how sensitive teachers very
frequently are on this point, acquiesce in it, and leave them to
themselves. Whenever in any case, they think that the state of the
school requires their interference, they come cautiously and fearfully
to the teacher, as if they were encroaching upon his rights, instead of
advancing with the confidence and directness with which employers have
always a right to approach the employed; and the teacher, with the view
he has insensibly taken of the subject, being perhaps confirmed by the
tone and manner which his employers use, makes the conversation, quite
as often, an occasion of resentment and offence as of improvement. He is
silent, perhaps, but in his heart he accuses his committee or his
trustees of improper interference in _his_ concerns, as though it was no
part of _their_ business to look after work which is going forward for
their advantage, and for which they pay.
Perhaps some individuals, who have had some collision with their
trustees or committee, will ask me if I mean, that a teacher ought to be
entirely and immediately under the supervision and control of the
trustees, just as a mechanic is when employed by another man. By no
means. There are various circumstances connected with the nature of this
employment; the impossibility of the employers fully understanding it in
all its details; and the character and the standing of the teacher
himself, which always will, in matter of fact, prevent this. The
employers always will, in a great many respects, place more confidence
in the teacher and in his views, than they will in their own. But still,
the ultimate power is theirs. Even if they err,--if they wish to have a
course pursued which is manifestly inexpedient and wrong, _they still
have a right to decide_. It is their work: it is going on at their
instance, and at their expense, and the power of ultimate decision, on
all disputed questions, must, from the very nature of the case, rest
with them. The teacher may, it is true, have his option either to comply
with their wishes or to seek employment in another sphere; but while he
remains in the employ of any persons, whether in teaching or in any
other service, he is bound to yield to the wishes of his employers, when
they insist upon it, and to submit pleasantly to their direction, when
they shall claim their undoubted right to direct.
This is to be done, it must be remembered, when they are wrong, as well
as when they are right. The obligation of the teacher is not founded
upon _the superior wisdom_ of his employers, in reference to the
business for which they have engaged him, for they are very probably
his inferiors in this respect; _but upon their right as employers_, to
determine _how their own work shall be done_. A gardener, we will
suppose, is engaged by a gentleman to lay out his grounds. The gardener
goes to work, and after a few hours the gentleman comes out to see how
he goes on, and to give directions. He proposes something which the
gardener, who, to make the case stronger, we will suppose knows better
that the proprietor of the grounds, considers ridiculous and absurd;
nay, we will suppose it is ridiculous and absurd. Now what can the
gardener do? There are, obviously, two courses. He can say to the
proprietor, after a vain attempt to convince him he is wrong, "Well,
sir, I will do just as you say. The grounds are yours: I have no
interest in it, or responsibility, except to accomplish your wishes."
This would be right. Or he might say, "Sir, you have a right to direct
upon your own grounds, and I do not wish to interfere with your plans;
but I must ask you to obtain another gardener. I have a reputation at
stake, and this work, if I do it even at your direction, will be
considered as a specimen of my taste and of my planning, so that I must
in justice to myself, decline remaining in your employment." This too,
would be right, though probably, both in the business of gardening and
of teaching, the case ought to be a strong one, to render it expedient.
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.
[Transcriber's Note: The footnote marker for the following footnote is
missing.]
[Footnote 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;
"Now I wish to ask you one more question, which I wish you all to answer
by your votes, honestly. It is this. Do you think that the real disorder
which has been in this class, that is, the real cases which you referred
to, when you stated to me, that you thought that the class was not in
good order, have been now really exposed, so that I honestly and fully
understand the case? How many suppose so?"
Not a single hand was raised.
"How many of you think, and are willing to avow your opinion, that I
have _not_ been fully informed of the case?"
A large proportion held up their hands.
"Now it seems the class pretended to be willing that I should know all
the affair. You pretended to be willing to tell me the whole, but when I
call upon you for the information, instead of telling me honestly, you
attempt to amuse me by little trifles, which in reality made no
disturbance, and you omit the things which you know were the real
objects of my inquiries. Am I right in my supposition?"
They were silent. After a moment's pause, one perhaps raised her hand,
and began now to confess something, which she had before concealed.
The teacher however interrupted her, by saying,
"I do not wish to have the confession made now. I gave you all time to
do that, and now I should rather not hear any more about the disorder. I
gave an opportunity to have it acknowledged, but it was not honestly
improved, and now I should rather not hear. I shall probably never know.
"I wished to see whether this class would be honest,--really honest, or
whether they would have the insincerity to pretend to be confessing,
when they were not doing so honestly, so as to get the credit of being
frank and sincere, when in reality they are not so. Now am I not
compelled to conclude that this latter is the case?"
Such an example will make a deep and lasting impression. It will show
that the teacher is upon his guard; and there are very few, so hardened
in deception, that they would not wish that they had been really
sincere, rather than rest under such an imputation.
8. COURT. A pupil, quite young, (says a teacher,) came to me one day
with a complaint that one of her companions had got her seat. There had
been some changes in the seats by my permission, and probably from some
inconsistency in the promises which I had made, there were two claimants
for the same desk. The complainant came to me, and appealed to my
recollection of the circumstance.
"I do not recollect anything about it," said I.
"Why! Mr. B." replied she, with astonishment.
"No," said I, "you forget that I have, every day, arrangements, almost
without number, of such a kind to make, and as soon as I have made one,
I immediately forget all about it."
"Why, don't you remember that you got me a new baize?"
"No; I ordered a dozen new baizes at that time, but I do not remember
who they were for."
There was a pause; the disappointed complainants seemed not to know what
to do.
"I will tell you what to do. Bring the case into court and I will try
it, regularly."
"Why, Mr. B.! I do not like to do any thing like that, about it;
besides, I do not know how to write an indictment."
"Oh!" I replied, "they will like to have a good trial. It will make a
new sort of case. All our cases thus far have been for _offences_, that
is what they call criminal cases, and this will be only an examination
of the conflicting claims of two individuals to the same property, and
it will excite a good deal of interest. I think you had better bring it
into court."
She went slowly and thoughtfully to her seat, and presently returned
with an indictment.
"Mr. B. is this right?"
It was as follows:--
I accuse Miss A. B. of coming to take away my seat, the one Mr. B.
gave me.
Witnesses. { C. D.
{ E. T.
"Why, ---- ---- yes,--that will do; and yet it is not exactly right. You
see this is what they call a civil case."
"I don't think it is very _civil_."
"No, I don't mean it was civil to take your seat. But this is not a case
where a person is prosecuted for having done anything wrong."
The plaintiff looked a little perplexed, as if she could not understand
how it could be otherwise than wrong, for a girl to usurp her seat.
"I mean, you do not bring it into court, as a case of wrong. You do not
want her to be punished; do you?"
"No; I only want her to give me up my seat; I don't want her to be
punished."
"Well, then, you see, that although she may have done wrong to take your
seat, it is not in that point of view, that you bring it into court. It
is a question about the right of property, and the lawyers call such
cases, _civil_ cases, to distinguish them from cases where persons are
tried for the purpose of being punished for doing wrong. These are
called criminal cases."
The aggrieved party still looked perplexed. "Well, Mr. B." she
continued, "what shall I do? How shall I write it? I cannot say anything
about _civil_, in it, can I?"
A form was given her, which would be proper for the purpose, and the
case was brought forward, and the evidence on both sides examined. The
irritation of the quarrel was soon dissipated, in the amusement of a
semi-serious trial, and both parties good humoredly acquiesced in the
decision.
9. TEACHERS' PERSONAL CHARACTER. Much has been said within a few years,
by writers in the subject of education, in this country, on the
desirableness of raising the business of teaching to the rank of a
learned profession. There is but one way of doing this, and that is
raising the personal characters and attainments of teachers themselves.
Whether an employment is elevated or otherwise in public estimation,
depends altogether on the associations connected with it in the public
mind; and these depend altogether on the characters of the individuals
who are engaged in it. Franklin, by the simple fact that he was a
printer himself, has done more towards giving dignity and respectability
to the employment of printing, than a hundred orations on the intrinsic
excellence of the art. In fact all mechanical employments have, within a
few years risen in rank, in this country, not through the influence of
efforts to impress the community directly with a sense of their
importance, but simply because mechanics themselves have risen in
intellectual and moral character. In the same manner the employment of
the teacher will be raised most effectually in the estimation of the
public, not by the individual who writes the most eloquent oration on
the intrinsic dignity of the art, but by the one who goes forward most
successfully in the exercise of it, and who by his general attainments,
and public character, stands out most fully to the view of the public,
as a well informed, liberal minded, and useful man.
If this is so, and it cannot well be denied, it furnishes every teacher
a strong motive to exertion, for the improvement of his own personal
character. But there is a stronger motive still, in the results which
flow directly to himself, from such efforts. No man ought to engage in
any business which, as mere business, will engross all his time and
attention. The Creator has bestowed upon every one a mind, upon the
cultivation of which, our rank among intelligent beings, our happiness,
our moral and intellectual power, every thing valuable to us, depend.
And after all the cultivation which we can bestow, in this life, upon
this mysterious principle, it will still be in embryo. The progress
which it is capable of making is entirely indefinite. If by ten years of
cultivation, we can secure a certain degree of knowledge and power, by
ten more, we can double, or more than double it, and every succeeding
year of effort, is attended with equal success. There is no point of
attainment where we must stop, or beyond which effort will bring in a
less valuable return.
Look at that teacher, and consider for a moment, his condition. He began
to teach when he was twenty years of age, and now he is forty. Between
the years of fifteen and twenty he made a vigorous effort to acquire
such an education as would fit him for these duties. He succeeded, and
by these efforts he raised himself from being a mere laborer, receiving
for his daily toil a mere daily subsistence, to the respectability and
the comforts of an intellectual pursuit. But this change once produced,
he stops short in his progress. Once seated in his desk, he is
satisfied, and for twenty years he has been going through the same
routine, without any effort to advance or to improve. He does not
reflect that the same efforts, which so essentially altered his
condition and prospects at twenty, would have carried him forward to
higher and higher sources of influence and enjoyment, as long as he
should continue them. His efforts ceased when he obtained a situation as
teacher, at forty dollars a month, and though twenty years have glided
away, he is now exactly what he was then.
There is probably no employment whatever which affords so favorable an
opportunity for personal improvement,--for steady intellectual and moral
progress, as that of teaching. There are two reasons for this.
First, there is time for it. With an ordinary degree of health and
strength, the mind can be vigorously employed at least ten hours a day.
As much as this, is required of students, in many literary institutions.
In fact ten hours to study, seven to sleep, and seven to food, exercise,
and recreation, is perhaps as good an arrangement as can be made; at any
rate, very few persons will suppose that such a plan allows too little
under the latter head. Now six hours is as much as is expected of
teachers under ordinary circumstances, and it is as much as ought ever
to be bestowed. For though he may labor four hours out of school, in
some new field, his health and spirits will soon sink under the burden,
if after his weary labors during the day in school, he gives up his
evenings to the same perplexities and cares. And it is not necessary. No
one who knows any thing of the nature of the human mind, and who will
reflect a moment on the subject, can doubt that a man can make a better
school, by expending six hours labor upon it, which he can go through
with, with some alacrity and ardor, than he can by driving himself on to
ten. Every teacher therefore, who is commencing his work, should begin
with the firm determination of devoting only six hours daily to the
pursuit. Make as good a school, and accomplish as much for it, as you
can in six hours, and let the rest go. When you come from your school
room at night, leave all your perplexities and cares behind you. No
matter what unfinished business or unsettled difficulties remain.
Dismiss them all till another sun shall rise, and the hour of duty for
another day shall come. Carry no school work home with you and do not
talk of your work. You will then get refreshment and rest. Your mind
during the evening will be in a different world from that in which you
have moved during the day. At first this will be difficult. It will be
hard for you, unless your mind is uncommonly well disciplined, to
dismiss all your cares; and you will think, each evening, that some
peculiar emergency demands your attention, _just at that time_, and that
as soon as you have passed the crisis, you will confine yourself to what
you admit are generally reasonable limits. But if you once allow school
with its perplexities and cares to get possession of the rest of the
day, it will keep possession. It will intrude itself into all your
waking thoughts, and trouble you in your dreams. You will lose all
command of your powers, and besides cutting off from yourself all hope
of general intellectual progress, you will in fact destroy your success
as a teacher. Exhaustion, weariness, and anxiety will be your continual
portion, and in such a state, no business can be successfully
prosecuted.
There need be no fear that employers will be dissatisfied, if the
teacher acts upon this principle. If he is faithful and enters with all
his heart into the discharge of his duties during six hours, there will
be something in the ardor, and alacrity, and spirit with which his
duties will be performed, which parents and scholars will both be very
glad to receive, in exchange for the languid, and dull, and heartless
toil, in which the other method must sooner or later result.
* * * * *
If the teacher then, will confine himself to such a portion of time, as
is, in fact, all he can advantageously employ, there will be much left
which can be devoted to his own private employment,--more than is usual
in the other employments of life. In most of these other employments,
there is not the same necessity for limiting the hours which a man may
devote to his business. A merchant, for example, may be employed nearly
all the day, at his counting-room, and so may a mechanic. A physician
may spend all his waking-hours in visiting patients, and feel little
more than healthy fatigue. The reason is that in all these employments,
and in fact in most of the employments of life, there is so much to
diversify, so many little incidents constantly occurring to animate and
relieve, and so much bodily exercise, which alternates with, and
suspends the fatigues of the mind, that the labors may be much longer
continued, and with less cessation, and yet the health not suffer. But
the teacher, while engaged in his work, has his mind continually on the
stretch. There is little to relieve, little respite, and he is almost
entirely deprived of bodily exercise. He must, consequently, limit his
hours of attending to his business, or his health will soon sink under
labors which Providence never intended the human mind to bear.
There is another circumstance which facilitates the progress of the
teacher. It is a fact that all this general progress has a direct and
immediate bearing upon his pursuits. A lawyer may read in an evening an
interesting book of travels, and find nothing to help him with his case,
the next day, in court,--but almost every fact which the teacher thus
learns, will come _at once into use,_ in some of his recitations at
school. We do not mean to imply by this that the members of the legal
profession have not need of a great variety and extent of knowledge;
they doubtless have. It is simply in the _directness_ and _certainty_,
with which the teacher's knowledge may be applied to his purpose, that
the business of teaching has the advantage over every other pursuit.
This fact now has a very important influence in encouraging, and leading
forward the teacher, to make constant intellectual progress, for every
step brings at once a direct reward.
10. THE CHESTNUT BURR. _A story for school-boys._[E] One fine pleasant
morning, in the fall of the year, the master was walking along towards
school, and he saw three or four boys under a large chestnut tree,
gathering chestnuts.
[Footnote E: Originally written for a periodical.]
One of the boys was sitting upon the ground, trying to open some
chestnut burrs, which he had knocked off from the tree. The burrs were
green, and he was trying to open them by pounding them with a stone.
He was a very impatient boy and was scolding, in a loud angry tone,
against the burrs. He did not see, he said, what in the world chestnuts
were made to grow so for. They ought to grow right out in the open air,
like apples, and not have such vile porcupine skins on them,--just to
plague the boys. So saying he struck with all his might a fine large
burr, crushed it to pieces, and then jumped up, using at the same time
profane and wicked words. As soon as he turned round he saw the master
standing very near him. He felt very much ashamed and afraid, and hung
down his head.
"Roger," said the master, (for this boy's name was Roger) "can you get
me a chestnut burr?"
Roger looked up for a moment, to see whether the master was in earnest,
and then began to look around for a burr.
A boy who was standing near the tree, with a red cap full of burrs in
his hand, held out one of them. Roger took the burr and handed it to the
master, who quietly put it into his pocket, and walked away without
saying a word.
As soon as he was gone, the boy with the red cap, said to Roger, "I
expected the master would have given you a good scolding for talking
so."
"The master never scolds," said another boy, who was sitting on a log
pretty near, with a green satchel in his hand, "but you see if he does
not remember it." Roger looked as if he did not know what to think about
it.
"I wish," said he, "I knew what he is going to do with that burr."
That afternoon, when the lessons had been all recited, and it was about
time to dismiss the school, the boys put away their books, and the
master read a few verses in the Bible, and then offered a prayer, in
which he asked God to forgive all the sins which any of them had
committed that day, and to take care of them during the night. After
this he asked the boys all to sit down. He then took his handkerchief
out of his pocket, and laid it on the desk, and afterwards he put his
hand into his pocket again; and took out the chestnut burr, and all the
boys looked at it.
"Boys," said he, "do you know what this is?"
One of the boys in the back seat, said, in a half whisper, "It is
nothing but a chestnut burr."
"Lucy," said the master, to a bright-eyed little girl, near him, "what
is this?"
"It is a chestnut burr, sir," said she.
"Do you know what it is for?"
"I suppose there are chestnuts in it."
"But what is this rough prickly covering for?"
Lucy did not know.
"Does any body here know?" said the master.
One of the boys said he supposed it was to hold the chestnuts together,
and keep them up on the tree.
"But I heard a boy say," replied the master, "that they ought not to be
made to grow so. The nut itself, he thought, ought to hang alone on the
branches, without any prickly covering,--just as apples do."
"But the nuts themselves have no stems to be fastened by," answered the
same boy.
"That is true, but I suppose this boy thought that God could have made
them grow with stems, and that this would have been better than to have
them in burrs."
After a little pause the master said he would explain to them what the
chestnut burr was for, and wished them all to listen attentively.
"How much of the chestnut is good to eat, William?" asked he, looking at
a boy before him.
"Only the meat."
"How long does it take the meat to grow?"
"All summer I suppose, it is growing."
"Yes; it begins early in the summer and gradually swells and grows until
it has become of full size and is ripe, in the fall. Now suppose there
was a tree out here near the school-house, and the chestnut meats should
grow upon it without any shell or covering, suppose too that they should
taste like good ripe chestnuts at first, when they were very small. Do
you think they would be safe?"
William said, "No! the boys would pick and eat them before they had time
to grow."
"Well, what harm would there be in that; would it not be as well to have
the chestnuts early in the summer, as to have them in the fall?"
William hesitated. Another boy who sat next to him said,
"There would not be so much meat in the chestnuts, if they were eaten
before they had time to grow."
"Right," said the master, "but would not the boys know this, and so all
agree to let the little chestnuts stay, and not eat them while they were
small?"
William said he thought they would not. If the chestnuts were good, he
was afraid they would pick them off and eat them, if they were small.
All the rest of the boys in the school thought so too.
"Here then," said the master, "is one reason for having prickles around
the chestnuts when they are small. But then it is not necessary to have
all chestnuts guarded from boys in this way; a great many of the trees
are in the woods, which the boys do not see; what good do the burrs do
in these trees?"
The boys hesitated. Presently the boy who had the green satchel under
the tree with Roger, who was sitting in one corner of the room, said,
"I should think they would keep the squirrels from eating them."
"And besides," continued he after thinking a moment, "I should suppose
if the meat of the chestnut had no covering, the rain might wet it and
make it rot, or the sun might dry and wither it."
"Yes," said the master, "these are very good reasons why the nut should
be carefully guarded. First the meats are packed away in a hard brown
shell, which the water cannot get through; this keeps it dry, and away
from dust, and other things which might injure it. Then several nuts
thus protected grow closely together inside this green prickly covering;
which spreads over them and guards them from the larger animals and the
boys. Where the chestnut gets its full growth and is ripe, this covering
you know splits open, and the nuts drop out, and then any body can get
them and eat them."
The boys were then all satisfied that it was better that chestnuts
should grow in burrs.
"But why," asked one of the boys, "do not apples grow so?"
"Can any body answer that question," asked the master.
The boy with the green satchel said that apples had a smooth, tight
skin, which kept out the wet, but he did not see how they were guarded
from animals.
The master said is was by their taste. "They are hard and sour before
they are full grown, and so the taste is not pleasant, and nobody wants
to eat them,--except sometimes a few foolish boys, and these are
punished by being made sick. When the apples are full grown they change
from sour to sweet, and become mellow; then they can be eaten. Can you
tell me of any other fruits which are preserved in this way?"
One boy answered, "Strawberries and blackberries," and another said,
"Peaches and pears."
Another boy asked why the peach-stone was not outside the peach, so as
to keep it from being eaten. But the master said he would explain this
another time. Then he dismissed the scholars, after asking Roger to wait
until the rest had gone, as he wished to see him alone.
11. THE SERIES OF WRITING LESSONS. c.[F] Very many pupils soon become
weary of the dull and monotonous business of writing, unless some plans
are devised, to give interest and variety to the exercise, and on this
account, this branch of education, in which improvement may be most
rapid, is often the last and most tedious to be acquired.
[Footnote F: The articles to which this letter is prefixed were
communicated for the work, by different teachers at the request of the
author.]
A teacher, by adopting the following plan, succeeded in awakening a
great degree of interest in this subject, and consequently, of promoting
rapid improvement. The plan was this; he prepared, on a large sheet of
paper, a series of lessons in coarse hand, beginning with straight
lines, and proceeding to the elementary parts of the various letters,
and finally to the letters themselves. This paper was posted up in a
part of the room accessible to all.
The writing-books were made of three sheets of fool's-cap paper, folded
into a convenient size, which was to be ruled by each pupil; for it was
thought important that each one should learn this art. Every pupil in
school then, being furnished with one of these writing books, was
required to commence this series, and to practice each lesson until he
could write it well; then, and not till then, he was permitted to pass
to the next. A few brief directions were given under each lesson, on
the large sheet. For example, under the line of straight marks, which
constituted the first lesson, was written as follows:
_Straight, equidistant, parallel, smooth, well terminated_
These directions were to call the attention of the pupil to the
excellences which he must aim at, and when he supposed he had secured
them, his book was to be presented to the teacher for examination. If
approved the word _Passed_, or afterwards simply _P._ was written under
the line, and he could then proceed to the next lesson. Other requisites
were necessary besides the correct formation of the letters, to enable
one to pass; for example, the page must not be soiled or blotted, no
paper must be wasted, and, in no case, a leaf torn out. As soon as _one
line_ was written in the manner required, the scholar was allowed to
pass; in a majority of cases however, not less than a page would be
practised, and in many instances a sheet would be covered, before one
line could be produced which would be approved.
One peculiar excellency of this method was, that although the whole
school were working under a regular and systematic plan, individuals
could go on independently; that is, the progress of no scholar was
retarded by that of his companion; the one more advanced, might easily
pass the earlier lessons in few days, while the others would require
weeks of practice to acquire the same degree of skill.
During the writing hour, the scholars would practice, each at the lesson
where he left off before, and at a particular time, each day, the books
were brought from the regular place of deposit, and laid before the
teacher for examination. Without some arrangement for an examination of
all the books together, the teacher would be liable to interruption at
any time, from individual questions and requests, which would consume
much time, and benefit only a few.
When a page of writing could not pass, a brief remark, calling the
attention of the pupil to the faults which prevented it, was sometimes
made in pencil at the bottom of the page. In other cases, the fault was
of such a character as to require full and minute oral directions to the
pupil. At last, to facilitate the criticism of the writing, a set of
arbitrary marks; indicative of the various faults, was devised, and
applied, as occasion might require, to the writing books, by means of
red ink.
These marks, which were very simple in their character, were easily
remembered, for there was generally some connexion between the sign and
the thing signified. For example; the mark denoting that letters were
too short, was simply lengthening them in red ink. A faulty curve was
denoted, by making a new curve over the old one, &c. The following are
the principal criticisms and directions for which marks were contrived.
Strokes rough.
Curve wrong.
Bad termination.
Too slanting, and the reverse.
Too broad, and the reverse.
Not parallel.
Form of the letter bad.
Large stroke made too fine, and the reverse.
Too tall, or too short.
Stems not straight.
Careless work.
Paper wasted.
Almost well enough to pass.
Bring your book to the teacher.
Former fault not corrected.
A catalogue of these marks, with an explanation, was made out and placed
where it was accessible to all, and by means of them the books could be
very easily and rapidly, but thoroughly criticised.
After the plan had gone on for some time, and its operation was fully
understood, the teacher gave up the business of examining the books into
the hands of a Committee, appointed by him from among the older and more
advanced pupils. That the Committee might be unbiased in their judgment,
they were required to examine and decide upon the books, without knowing
the names of the writers. Each scholar was indeed required to place her
name on the right hand upper corner of every page of her writing-book,
for the convenience of the distributors; but this corner was turned
down, when the book was brought in, that it might not be seen by the
Committee.
This Committee were entrusted with plenary powers, and there was no
appeal from their decision. In case they exercised their authority in an
improper way, or failed on any account to give satisfaction, they were
liable to impeachment, but while they continued in office, they were to
be strictly obeyed.
This plan went on successfully for three months, and with very little
diminution of interest. The whole school went regularly through the
lessons in coarse hand, and afterwards through a similar series in fine
hand, and improvement in this branch was thought to be greater than at
any former period in the same length of time.
The same principle of arranging the several steps of an art or a study
into a series of lessons, and requiring the pupil to pass regularly from
one to the other, might easily be applied to other studies, and would
afford a pleasant variety.
12. THE CORRESPONDENCE. A master of a district school was walking
through the room, with a large rule in his hands, and as he came up
behind two small boys, he observed that they were playing with some
papers. He struck them once or twice, though not very severely on the
head, with the rule which he had in his hand. Tears started from the
eyes of one. They were called forth by a mingled feeling of grief,
mortification, and pain. The other who was of "sterner stuff," looked
steadily into the master's face, and when his back was turned, shook his
fist at him and laughed in defiance.
Another teacher seeing a similar case, did nothing. The boys when they
saw him; hastily gathered up their playthings and put them away. An hour
or two after, a little boy who sat near the master, brought them a note
addressed to them both. They opened it and read as follows.
To Edward and John,
I observed, when I passed you to-day, from your concerned looks,
and your hurried manner of putting something into your desk, that
you were doing something that you knew was wrong. When you attempt
to do any thing whatever, which conscience tells you is wrong, you
only make yourself uneasy and anxious while you do it, and then you
are forced to resort to concealment and deception, when you see me
coming. You would be a great deal happier, if you would always be
doing your duty, and then you would never be afraid.
Your affectionate teacher, ---- ----.
As the teacher was arranging his papers in his desk, at the close of
school, he found a small piece of paper neatly folded up in the form of
a note, and addressed to him. He read as follows,
Dear teacher,
We are very much obliged to you for writing us a note. We were
making a paper box. We know it was wrong, and are determined not to
do so any more. We hope you will forgive us.
Your pupils,
Edward,
John.
Which of these teachers understood human nature best?
13. WEEKLY REPORTS. The plan described by the following article, which
was furnished by a teacher for insertion here, was originally adopted,
so far as I know, in a school on the Kennebec. I have adopted it with
great advantage.
* * * * *
c. A teacher had one day been speaking to her scholars of certain cases
of slight disorder in the school, which, she remarked, had been
gradually creeping in, and which, she thought, it devolved upon the
scholars, by systematic efforts, to repress. She enumerated instances of
disorder in the arrangement of the rooms, leaving the benches out of
their places, throwing waste papers upon the floor, having the desk in
disorder, inside, spilling water upon the entry floor, disorderly
deportment, such as too loud talking or laughing in recess, or in the
intermission at noon, or when coming to school, and making unnecessary
noise in going to, or returning from recitations.
"I have a plan to propose," said the teacher, "which I think may be the
pleasantest way of promoting a reform, in things of this kind. It is
this. Let several of your number be chosen a Committee to prepare,
statedly--perhaps as often as once a week,--a written report of the
state of the school. The report might be read before the school at the
close of each week. The Committee might consist in the whole, of seven
or eight, or even of eleven or twelve individuals who should take the
whole business into their hands. This Committee might appoint
individuals of their number, to write, in turn, each week. By this
arrangement, it would not be known to the school generally, who are the
writers of any particular report, if the individuals wish to be
anonymous. Two individuals might be appointed at the beginning of the
week, who should feel it their business to observe particularly the
course of things from day to day, with reference to the report.
Individuals not members of the Committee, can render assistance by any
suggestions they may present to this Committee. These should however
generally be made in writing."
"Subjects for such a report will be found to suggest themselves very
abundantly, though you may not perhaps think so at first. The Committee
may be empowered, not only to state the particulars in which things are
going wrong, but the methods by which they may be made right. Let them
present us with any suggestions they please. If we do not like them, we
are not obliged to adopt them. For instance, it is generally the case
whenever a recitation is attended in the corner yonder, that an end of
one of the benches is put against the door, so as to occasion a serious
interruption to the exercises when a person wishes to come in or go out.
It would come within the province of the Committee to attend to such a
case as this, that is, to bring it up in the report. The remedy in such
a case is a very simple one. Suppose however, that instead of the
_simple_ remedy, our Committee should propose that the classes reciting
in the said corner should be dissolved and the studies abolished. We
should know the proposal was an absurd one; but then it would do no
hurt;--we should have only to reject it."
"Again, besides our faults, let our Committee notice the respects in
which we are doing particularly well, that we may be encouraged to go on
doing well, or even to do better. If they think for example, that we are
deserving of credit for the neatness with which books are kept,--for
their freedom from blots or scribblings, or dog's-ears, by which
school-books are so commonly defaced, let them tell us so. And the same
of any other excellence."
With the plan as thus presented, the scholars were very much pleased. It
was proposed by one individual that such a Committee should be appointed
immediately, and a report prepared for the ensuing week. This was done.
The Committee were chosen by ballot. The following may be taken as a
specimen of their reports.
WEEKLY REPORT.
'The Committee appointed to write the weekly report have noticed
several things which they think wrong. In the first place there
have been a greater number of tardy scholars, during the past week
than usual. Much of this tardiness we suppose is owing to the
interest felt in building the bower; but we think this business
ought to be attended to only in play hours: If only one or two come
in late when we are reading in the morning, or after we have
composed ourselves to study at the close of the recess, every
scholar must look up from her book,--we do not say they ought to do
so, but only that they will do so. However, we anticipate an
improvement in this respect, as we know "a word to the wise is
sufficient."
'In the two back rows we are sorry to say that we have noticed
whispering. We know that this fact will very much distress our
Teacher, as she expects assistance, and not trouble from our older
scholars. It is not our business to reprove any one's misconduct,
but it is our duty to mention it, however disagreeable it may be.
We think the younger scholars during the past week have much
improved in this respect. Only three cases of whispering among them
have occurred to our knowledge.
'We remember some remarks made a few weeks ago, by our Teacher, on
the practice of prompting each other in the classes. We wish she
would repeat them, for we fear that by some they are forgotten. In
the class in Geography, particularly in the questions on the map,
we have noticed sly whispers, which we suppose were the hints of
some kind friend designed to refresh the memory of her less
attentive companion. We propose that the following question be now
put to vote. Shall the practice of prompting in the classes be any
longer continued?
'We would propose that we have a composition exercise _this_ week
similar to the one on Thursday last. It was very interesting, and
we think all would be willing to try their thinking powers once
more. We would propose also that the readers of the compositions
should sit near the centre of the room, as last week many fine
sentences escaped the ears of those seated in the remote corners.
'We were requested by a very public-spirited individual to mention
once more the want of three nails, for bonnets in the entry. Also,
to say that the air from the broken pane of glass on the east side
of the room, is very unpleasant to these who sit near.
'Proposed that the girls who exhibited so much taste and ingenuity
in the arrangement of the festoons of evergreen, and tumblers of
flowers around the Teacher's desk, be now requested to remove the
faded roses and drooping violets. We have gazed on these sad
emblems long enough.
'Finally, proposed that greater care be taken by those who stay at
noon, to place their dinner baskets in proper places. The contents
of more than one, were partly strewed upon the entry floor this
morning.'
If such a measure as this is adopted, it should not be continued
uninterrupted for a very long time. Every thing of this sort should be
occasionally changed, or it sooner or later becomes only a form.
14. THE SHOPPING EXERCISE. c. I have often when going a shopping found
difficulty and trouble in making change. I could never calculate very
readily and in the hurry and perplexity of the moment, I was always
making mistakes. I have heard others often make the same complaint, and
I resolved to try the experiment of regularly teaching children to make
change. I had a bright little class in Arithmetic, who were always ready
to engage with interest in any thing new, and to them I proposed my
plan. It was to be called the Shopping Exercise. I first requested each
individual to write something upon her slate, which she would like to
buy, if she was going a shopping, stating the quantity she wished and
the price of it. To make the first lesson as simple as possible, I
requested no one to go above ten, either in the quantity or price. When
all were ready, I called upon some one to read what she had written. Her
next neighbor was then requested to tell us how much the purchase would
amount to; then the first one named a bill, which she supposed to be
offered in payment, and the second showed what change was needed. A
short specimen of the exercise will probably make it clearer than mere
description.
_Mary._ Eight ounces of candy at seven cents.
_Susan._ Fifty-six cents.
_Mary._ One dollar.
_Susan._ Forty-four cents.
_Susan._ Nine yards of lace at eight cents.
_Anna._ Seventy-two cents.
_Susan._ Two dollars.
_Anna._ One dollar and twenty-eight cents.
_Anna._ Three pieces of tape at five cents.
_Jane._ Fifteen cents.
_Anna._ Three dollars.
_Jane_. Eighty-five cents.
_Several voices._ Wrong.
_Jane._ Two dollars and eighty-five cents.
_Jane._ Six pictures at eight cents.
_Sarah._ Forty-two cents.
_Several voices._ Wrong.
_Sarah._ Forty-eight cents.
_Jane._ One dollar.
_Sarah._ Sixty-two cents.
_Several voices._ Wrong.
_Sarah._ Fifty-two cents.
It will be perceived that the same individual who names the article and
the price, names also the bill which she would give in payment, and the
one who sits next her, who calculated the amount, calculated also the
change to be returned. She then proposed her example to the one next in
the line, with whom the same course was pursued, and thus it passed down
the class.
The exercise went on for some time in this way, till the pupils had
become so familiar with it, that I thought it best to allow them to take
higher numbers. They were always interested in it, and made great
improvement in a short time, and I, myself, derived great advantage from
listening to them.
There is one more circumstance, I will add, which may contribute to the
interest of this account. While the class were confined in what they
purchased, to the number ten, they were sometimes inclined to turn the
exercise into a frolic. The variety of articles which they could find
costing less than ten cents was so small, that for the sake of getting
something new, they would propose examples really ludicrous, such as
these. Three meeting-houses at two cents. Four pianos at nine cents. But
I soon found that if I allowed this at all, then attention was diverted
from the main object, and occupied in seeking the most diverting and
curious examples.
15. ARTIFICES IN RECITATIONS. c. The teacher of a small, newly
established school, had all of his scholars classed together in some of
their studies. At recitations he usually sat in the middle of the room,
while the scholars occupied the usual places at their desks, which were
arranged around the sides. In the recitation in Rhetoric, the teacher,
after a time, observed that one or two of the class seldom answered
appropriately the questions which came to them; but yet, were always
ready with some kind of answer--generally an exact quotation of the
words of the book. Upon noticing these individuals more particularly, he
was convinced that their books were open before them, in some concealed
situation. Another practice not uncommon in the class, was that of
_prompting_ each other, either by whispers or writing. The teacher took
no notice publicly of these practices, for some time, until at the close
of an uncommonly good recitation, he remarked, "Well, I think we have
had a fine recitation to-day. It is one of the pleasantest things I ever
do, to hear a lesson that is learned as well as this. Do you think it
would be possible for us to have as good an exercise every day?" "Yes
sir," answered several faintly. "Do you think it would be reasonable for
me to expect of every member of the class, that she should always be
able to recite all her lessons, without ever missing a single question?"
"No sir," answered all. "I do not expect it," said the teacher. "All I
wish is, that each of you should be faithful in your efforts to prepare
your lessons. I wish you to study from a sense of duty, and for the sake
of your own improvement. You know I do not punish you for failures. I
have no going up or down, no system of marking. Your only reward when
you have made faithful preparation for a recitation, is the feeling of
satisfaction which you will always experience; and when you have been
negligent, your only punishment is a sort of uneasy feeling of
self-reproach. I do not expect you all to be invariably prepared with
every question of your lessons. Sometimes you will be unavoidably
prevented from studying them, and at other times, when you have studied
them very carefully, you may have forgotten, or you may fail from some
misapprehension of the meaning in some cases. Do not, in such a case,
feel troubled because you may not have appeared as well as some
individual who has not been half as faithful as yourself. If you have
done your duty that is enough. On the other hand, you ought to feel no
better satisfied with yourselves when your lesson has not been studied
well, because you may have happened to know the parts which came to you.
Have I _done_ well should always be the question, not have I managed to
_appear_ well?
"I will say a word here," continued the teacher, "upon a practice, which
I have known to be very common in some schools, and which I have been
sorry to notice occasionally in this. I mean that of prompting, or
helping each other along in some way, at recitations. Now, where a
severe punishment is the consequence of a failure, there might seem to
be some reasonableness in helping your companions out of difficulty,
though even then, such tricks are departures from honorable dealing. But
especially when there is no purpose to be served but that of appearing
to know more than you do, it certainly must be considered a very mean
kind of artifice. I think I have sometimes observed an individual to be
prompted, where evidently the assistance was not desired, and even where
it was not needed. To whisper to an individual the answer to a question,
is sometimes to pay her rather a poor compliment, at least; for it is
the same as saying, 'I am a better scholar than you are; let me help you
along a little.'
"Let us then hereafter, have only fair, open, honest dealings with each
other, no attempts to appear to advantage by little artful
manoeuvering;--no prompting,--no peeping into books. Be faithful and
conscientious, and then banish anxiety for your success. Do you not
think you shall find this the pleasantest course?"--"Yes sir," answered
every scholar. "Are you willing to pledge yourselves to adopt it?" "Yes
sir." "Those who are, may raise their hands," said the teacher. Every
hand was raised; and the pledge, there was evidence to believe, was
honorably sustained.
16. KEEPING RESOLUTIONS. The following are notes of a familiar lecture
on this subject, given by a teacher at some general exercise in the
school. The practice of thus reducing to writing what the teacher may
say on such subjects will be attended with excellent effects.
This is a subject upon which young persons find much difficulty.
The question is asked a thousand times, "How shall I ever learn to
keep my resolutions?" Perhaps, the great cause of your failures is
this. You are not sufficiently _definite_ in forming your purposes.
You will resolve to do a thing, without knowing with certainty
whether it is even possible to do it. Again, you make resolutions
which are to run on indefinitely, so that of course, they can never
be fully kept. For instance, one of you will resolve to _rise
earlier in the morning_. You fix upon no definite hour, on any
definite number of mornings, only you are going to "_rise
earlier_." Morning comes and finds you sleepy and disinclined to
rise. You remember your resolution of rising earlier. "But then it
is _very early_," you say. You resolved to rise earlier, but you
didn't resolve to rise just then. And this, it may be, is the last
of your resolution. Or, perhaps you are, for a few mornings, a
little earlier; but then at the end of a week or fortnight, you do
not know exactly, whether your resolution has been broken or kept,
for, you had not decided whether to rise earlier for ten days, or
for ten years.
In the same vague and general manner, a person will resolve to be
_more studious_, or more diligent. In the case of an individual, of
a mature and well-disciplined mind, of acquired firmness of
character, such a resolution might have effect. The individual will
really devote more time and attention to his pursuits. But, for one
of you to make such a resolution, would do no sort of good. It
would only be a source of trouble and disquiet. You perceive there
is nothing definite,--nothing fixed about it. You have not decided
what amount of additional time or attention to give to your
studies, or, when you will begin, or when you will end. There is no
one time when you will feel that you are breaking your resolution,
because there were no particular times when you were to study more.
You waste one opportunity and another, and then, with a feeling of
discouragement, and self-reproach, conclude to abandon your
resolution. "Oh! it does no good to make resolutions," you say; "I
never shall keep them."
Now, if you would have the business of making resolutions a
pleasant and interesting, instead of a discouraging, disquieting
one, you must proceed in a different manner. Be definite and
distinct in your plan,--decide exactly what you will do, and how
you will do it--when you will begin and when you will end. Instead
of resolving to "rise earlier," resolve to rise at the ringing of
the sunrise bells, or at some other definite time. Resolve to try
this, as an experiment, for one morning, or for one week, or
fortnight. Decide positively, if you decide at all, and then, rise
when the time comes, sleepy or not sleepy. Do not stop to repent of
your resolution, or to consider the wisdom or folly of it, when the
time for acting under it, has once arrived.
In all cases, little and great, make this a principle,--to consider
well before you begin to act, but after you have begun to act,
never stop to consider. Resolve as deliberately as you please; but
be sure to keep your resolution, whether a wise one or an unwise
one, after it is once made. Never allow yourself to re-consider the
question of getting up, after the morning has come, except it be,
for some unforeseen circumstance. Get up for that time, and be more
careful how you make resolutions again.
17. TOPICS. c. The plan of the Topic Exercise, as we called it, is this.
Six or seven topics are given out, information upon which is to be
obtained from any source, and communicated verbally before the whole
school, or sometimes before a class formed for this purpose, the next
day. The subjects are proposed both by teacher and scholars, and if
approved, adopted. The exercise is intended to be voluntary, but ought
to be managed in a way sufficiently interesting to induce all to join.
At the commencement of the exercise the teacher calls upon all who have
any information in regard to the topic assigned, suppose, for example it
is _Alabaster_, to rise. Perhaps twenty individuals out of forty rise.
The teacher may, perhaps, say to those in their seats,
"Do you not know any thing of this subject? Have you neither seen nor
heard of Alabaster, and had no means of ascertaining any thing in regard
to it? If you have, you ought to rise. It is not necessary that you
should state a fact altogether new and unheard of, but if you tell me
its color, or some of the uses to which it is applied, you will be
complying with my request."
After these remarks, perhaps a few more rise, and possibly the whole
school. Individuals are then called upon at random, each to state only
one particular in regard to the topic in question. This arrangement is
made so as to give all an opportunity to speak: If any scholar, after
having mentioned one fact, has something still farther to communicate,
she remains standing till called upon again. As soon as an individual
has exhausted her stock of information, or if the facts that she
intended to mention are stated by another, she takes her seat.
The topics at first most usually selected, are the common objects by
which we are surrounded; for example, glass, iron, mahogany, &c. The
list will gradually extend itself, until it will embrace a large number
of subjects.
The object of this exercise is to induce pupils to seek for general
information in an easy and pleasant manner, as by the perusal of books,
newspapers, periodicals, and conversation with friends. It induces care
and attention in reading, and discrimination in selecting the most
useful and important facts from the mass of information. As individuals
are called upon, also, to express their ideas _verbally_, they soon
acquire by practice, the power of expressing their ideas with clearness
and force, and communicating with ease and confidence the knowledge they
possess.
18. MUSIC. c. The girls of our school often amused themselves in recess
by collecting into little groups for singing. As there seemed to be a
sufficient power of voice and a respectable number who were willing to
join in the performance, it was proposed one day, that singing should be
introduced as a part of the devotional exercises of the school.
The first attempt nearly resulted in a failure; only a few trembling
voices succeeded in singing Old Hundred, to the words, "Be thou," &c. On
the second day, Peterborough was sung with much greater confidence on
the part of the increased number of singers. The experiment was tried
with greater and greater success for several days, when the Teacher
proposed that a systematic plan should be formed, by which there night
be singing regularly at the close of school. It was then proposed, that
a number of Singing books be obtained, and one of the scholars, who was
well acquainted with common tunes, be appointed as chorister. Her duty
should be, to decide what particular tune may be sung each day, inform
the Teacher of the metre of the hymn, and take the lead in the exercise.
This plan being approved of by the scholars, was adopted, and put into
immediate execution. Several brought copies of the Sabbath School Hymn
Book which they had in their possession, and the plan succeeded beyond
all expectation. The greatest difficulty in the way was to get some one
to lead. The chorister, however, was somewhat relieved from the
embarrassment which she would naturally feel in making a beginning, by
the appointment of one or two individuals with herself, who were to act
as her assistants. These constituted the leading Committee, or as it was
afterwards termed, _Singing Committee_.
Singing now became a regular and interesting exercise of the school, and
the Committee succeeded in managing the business themselves.
19. TABU. c. An article was one day read in a school relating to the
"Tabu" of the Sandwich Islanders. Tabu is a term with them which
signifies consecrated,--not to be touched--to be let alone--not to be
violated. Thus according to their religious observances, a certain day
will be proclaimed _Tabu_, that is, one upon which there is to be no
work, or no going out.
A few days after this article was read, the scholars observed one
morning, a flower stuck up in a conspicuous place against the wall, with
the word TABU in large characters above it. This excited considerable
curiosity. The teacher informed them, in explanation, that the flower
was a very rare and beautiful specimen brought by one of the scholars,
which he wished all to examine. "You would naturally feel a disposition
to examine it by the touch;" said he, "but you will all see, that by the
time it was touched by sixty individuals, it would be likely to be
injured, if not destroyed. So I concluded to label it, _Tabu_. And it
has occurred to me that this will be a convenient mode of apprising you
generally, that any article had better not be handled. You know we
sometimes have some apparatus exposed, which would be liable to injury
from disturbance, where there are so many persons to touch it. I shall
in such a case, just mention that an article is Tabu, and you will
understand that it is not only not to be _injured_, but not even
_touched_."
A little delicate management of this sort will often have more influence
over young persons, than the most vehement scolding, or the most
watchful and jealous precautions. The Tabu was always most scrupulously
regarded, after this, whenever employed.
20. MENTAL ANALYSIS. Scene; a class in Arithmetic at recitation. The
teacher gives them an example in addition, requesting them when they
have performed it to rise. Some finish it very soon, others are very
slow in accomplishing the work.
"I should like to ascertain," says the teacher, "how great is the
difference of rapidity, with which different members of the class work
in addition. I will give you another example, and then notice by my
watch, the shortest and longest time required to do it."
The result of the experiment was, that some members of the class were
two or three times as long in doing it, as others.
"Perhaps you think," said the teacher, "that this difference is
altogether owing to difference of skill, but it is not. It is mainly
owing to the different methods adopted by various individuals. I am
going to describe some of these, and as I describe them, I wish you
would notice them carefully, and tell me which you practice.
There are then three modes of adding up a column of figures, which I
shall describe."
1. "I shall call the first _counting_. You take the first figure, and
then add the next to it, by counting up regularly. There are three
distinct ways of doing this.
(a.) Counting by your fingers. ("Yes sir.") You take the first
figure,--suppose it is seven, and the one above it, eight. Now you
recollect that to add eight, you must count all the fingers of one hand,
and all but two again. So you say seven--eight, nine, ten, eleven,
twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen."
"Yes sir," "Yes sir," said the scholars.
(b.) "The next mode of counting is to do it mentally, without using your
fingers at all, but as it is necessary for you to have some plan to
secure your adding the right number, you divide the units into sets of
two each. Thus you remember that eight consists of four twos, and you
accordingly say, when adding eight to seven, seven;--eight, nine;--ten,
eleven;--twelve, thirteen;" &c.
(c.) "The third mode is, to add by three, in the same way. You recollect
that eight consists of two threes and a two; so you say, seven;--eight,
nine, ten;--eleven, twelve, thirteen;--fourteen, fifteen."
The teacher here stops to ascertain how many of the class are accustomed
to add in either of these modes. It is a majority.
2. "The next general method is _calculating_. That is, you do not unite
one number to another by the dull and tedious method of applying the
units, one by one, as in the ways described under the preceding head,
but you come to a result more rapidly by some mode of calculating. These
modes are several.
(a.) Doubling a number, and then adding or subtracting as the case may
require. For instance in the example already specified; in order to add
seven and eight, you say, "Twice seven are fourteen and one are
fifteen;" ("Yes sir," "Yes sir,") or "Twice eight are sixteen, and
taking one off, leaves fifteen. ("Yes sir.")
(b.) Another way of calculating is to skip about the column, adding
those numbers which you can do most easily, and then bringing in the
rest as you best can. Thus, if you see three eights in one column, you
say three times eight are twenty-four, and then you try to bring in the
other numbers. Often in such cases, you forget what you have added and
what you have not, and get confused, ("Yes sir,") or you omit something
in your work, and consequently it is incorrect.
(c.) If nines occur, you sometimes add ten, and then take off one, for
it is very easy to add ten.
(d.) Another method of calculating, which is, however, not very common,
is this. To take our old case, adding eight to seven, you take as much
from the eight to add to the seven as will be sufficient to make ten,
and then it will be easy to add the rest. Thus, you think in a minute,
that three from the eight will make the seven a ten, and then there will
be five more to add, which will make fifteen. If the next number was
seven, you would say five of it will make twenty, and then there will be
two left, which will make twenty-two. This mode, though it may seem more
intricate than any of the others, is in fact more rapid than any of
them, when one is little accustomed to it.
These are the four principal modes of calculating which occur to me.
Pupils do not generally practice any one of them exclusively, but
occasionally resort to each, according to the circumstances of the
particular case."
The teacher here stopped to inquire how many of the class were
accustomed to add by calculating in either of these ways; or in any
simpler ways.
3. "There is one more mode which I shall describe: it is by _Memory_.
Before I explain this mode I wish to ask you some questions which I
should like to have you answer as quick as you can.
How much is four times five?--Four _and_ five?
How much is seven times nine?--Seven _and_ nine?
Eight times six?--Eight _and_ six?
Nine times seven?--Nine _and_ seven?"
After asking a few questions of this kind, it was perceived that the
pupils could tell much more readily what was the result when the numbers
were to be multiplied, then when they were to be added.
"The reason is," said the teacher, "because you committed the
multiplication table to memory, and have not committed the addition
table. Now many persons have committed the addition table, so that it is
perfectly familiar to them, and when they see any two numbers, the
amount which is produced when they are added together comes to mind in
an instant. Adding in this way is the last of the three modes I was to
describe.
Now of these three methods, the last is undoubtedly the best. If you
once commit the addition table thoroughly, you have it fixed for life;
whereas if you do not, you have to make the calculation over again every
time, and thus lose a vast amount of labor. I have no doubt that there
are some in this class who are in the habit of _counting_, who have
ascertained that seven and eight for instance, make fifteen; by counting
up from seven to fifteen, _hundreds of times_. Now how much better it
would be, to spend a little time in fixing the fact in the mind once for
all, and then when you come to the case, seven and eight are--say at
once "Fifteen,"--instead of mumbling over and over again, hundreds of
times, "Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen,
fifteen."
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.
And here the young teacher ought to be cautioned against a fault which
beginners are very prone to fall into, that of forming unfavorable
opinions of some of their pupils from their air and manner, before they
see any thing in their conduct which ought to be disapproved. A boy or
girl comes to the desk to ask a question, or make a request, and the
teacher sees in the cast of countenance, or in the bearing or tone of
the individual, something indicating a proud, or a sullen, or an
ill-humored disposition, and conceives a prejudice, often entirely
without foundation, which weeks perhaps do not wear away. Every
experienced teacher can recollect numerous cases of this sort, and he
learns, after a time, to suspend his judgment. Be cautious therefore on
this point, and in the survey of your pupils which you make during the
first few days of your school, trust to nothing but the most sure and
unequivocal evidences of character; for many of your most docile and
faithful pupils will be found among those whose appearance at first
prepossessed you strongly against them.
One other caution ought also to be given. Do not judge too severely in
respect to the ordinary cases of misconduct in school. The young teacher
almost invariably does judge too severely. While engaged himself in
hearing a recitation, or looking over a "sum," he hears a stifled laugh,
and, looking up, sees the little offender struggling with the muscles of
his countenance to restore their gravity. The teacher is vexed at the
interruption, and severely rebukes or punishes the boy,--when, after
all, the offence, in a moral point of view, was an exceedingly light
one; at least it might very probably have been so. In fact, a large
proportion of the offences against order committed in school are the
mere momentary action of the natural buoyancy and life of childhood.
This is no reason why they should be indulged, or why the order and
regularity of the school should be sacrificed, but it should prevent
their exciting feelings of anger or impatience, or very severe
reprehension. While the teacher should take effectual measures for
restraining all such irregularities, he should do it with the tone and
manner which will show that he understands their true moral character,
and deals with them, not as heinous sins which deserve severe
punishment, but as serious inconveniences which he is compelled to
repress.
There are often cases of real moral turpitude in school,--such as where
there is intentional, wilful mischief, or disturbance, or habitual
disobedience, and there may even be, in some cases, open rebellion. Now
the teacher should show that he distinguishes these cases from such
momentary acts of thoughtlessness as we have described; and a broad
distinction ought to be made in the treatment of them. In a word
then,--what we have been recommending under this head is, that the
teacher should make it his special study, for his first few days in
school, to understand the characters of his pupils,--to learn who are
the thoughtless ones, who the mischievous, and who the disobedient and
rebellious;--and to do this with candid, moral discrimination, and with
as little open collision with individuals as possible.
8. Another point to which the teacher ought to give his early attention,
is to separate the bad boys as soon as he can, from one another. The
idleness and irregularity of children in school often depends more on
accidental circumstances than on character. Two boys may be individually
harmless and well disposed, and yet they may be of so mercurial a
temperament, that, together, the temptation to continual play will be
irresistible. Another case that more often happens, is, where one is
actively and even intentionally bad, and is seated next to an innocent
but perhaps thoughtless boy, and contrives to keep him always in
difficulty. Now remove the former away, where there are no very frail
materials for him to act upon, and place the latter where he is exposed
to no special temptation, and all would be well.
This is all very obvious, and known familiarly to all teachers who have
had any experience. But beginners are not generally so aware of it at
the outset as to make any direct and systematic efforts to examine the
school with reference to its condition in this respect. It is usual to
go on, leaving the boys to remain seated as chance or their own
inclinations grouped them, and to endeavour to keep the peace among the
various neighbourhoods, by close supervision, rebukes, and punishment.
Now these difficulties may be very much diminished, by looking a little
into the arrangement of the boys at the outset, and so modifying it as
to diminish the amount of temptation to which the individuals are
exposed.
This should be done, however, cautiously, deliberately, and with good
nature;--keeping the object of it a good deal out of view. It must be
done cautiously and deliberately, for the first appearances are
exceedingly fallacious in respect to the characters of the different
children. You see perhaps some indications of play between two boys
upon the same seat, and hastily conclude that they are disorderly boys
and must be separated. Something in the air and manner of one or both of
them confirms this impression, and you take the necessary measures at
once. You then find, when you become more fully acquainted with them,
that the appearances which you observed were only momentary and
accidental, and that they would have been as safe together as any two
boys in the school. And perhaps you will even find, that, by their new
position, you have brought one or the other into circumstances of
peculiar temptation. Wait, therefore, before you make such changes, till
you have ascertained _actual character_,--doing this, however, without
any unnecessary delay.
In such removals, too, it is well, in many cases, to keep the motive and
design of them as much as possible out of view. For by expressing
suspicion of a boy, you injure his character in his own opinion, and in
that of others, and tend to make him reckless. Besides, if you remove a
boy from a companion whom he likes, avowedly to prevent his playing, you
offer him an inducement, if he is a bad boy, to continue to play in his
new position for the purpose of thwarting you, or from the influence of
resentment. It would be wrong indeed to use any subterfuge, or duplicity
of any kind, to conceal your object,--but you are not bound to explain
it, and in the many changes which you will be compelled to make, in the
course of the first week, for various purposes, you may include many of
these, without explaining particularly the design or intention of any of
them.
In some instances, however, you may frankly state the whole case,
without danger, provided it is done in such a manner as not to make the
boy feel that his character is seriously injured in your estimation. It
must depend upon the tact and judgment of the teacher, to determine upon
the particular course to be pursued in the several cases, though he
ought to keep these general principles in view in all.
In one instance, for example, he will see two boys together, James and
Joseph we will call them, exhibiting a tendency to play, and after
inquiring into their characters he will find that they are good-natured,
pleasant boys, and that he had better be frank with them on the subject.
He calls one of them to his desk, and perhaps the following dialogue
ensues.
"James, I am making some changes in the seats, and thought of removing
you to another place. Have you any particular preference for that seat?"
The question is unexpected, and James hesitates. He wants to sit next to
Joseph, but doubts whether it is quite prudent to avow it,--so he says
slowly and with hesitation,
"No sir,--I do not know that I have."
"If you have any reason, I wish you would tell me frankly, for I want
you to have such a seat as will be pleasant to you."
James does not know what to say. Encouraged, however, by the
good-humored tone and look which the master assumes, he says, timidly,
"Joseph and I thought we should like to sit together,--if you are
willing."
"Oh,--you and Joseph are particular friends then, I suppose."
"Why,--yes sir."
"I am not surprised then, that you want to sit together,--though, to
tell the truth, that is rather a reason why I should separate you."
"Why sir?"
"Because I have observed that when two great friends are seated
together, they are always more apt to whisper and play.--Have not you
observed it?"
"Why,--yes sir."
"You may go and ask Joseph to come here."
When the two boys make their appearance again, the teacher continues.
"Joseph, James tells me that you and he want to sit together, and says
you are particular friends. But I tell him," he adds, smiling, "that
that is rather a reason for separating you. Now if I should put you both
into different parts of the school, next to boys that you are not
acquainted with, it would be a great deal easier for you to be still and
studious than it is now. Do not you think so yourselves?"
The boys look at one another and smile.
"However, there is one way you can do. You can guard against the extra
temptation by extra care; and on the whole, as I believe you are pretty
good boys, I will let you have your choice. You may stay as you are, and
make extra exertion to be perfectly regular and studious, or I will find
seats for you where it will be a great deal easier for you to be so.
Which do you think you should rather do?"
The boys hesitate, look at one another, and presently say that they had
rather sit together.
"Well," said the teacher, "it is immaterial to me whether you sit
together or apart, if you are only good boys. So you may take your seats
and try it a little while. If you find it too hard work to be studious
and orderly together, I can make a change hereafter. I shall soon see."
Such a conversation will have many good effects. It will make the boys
expect to be watched, without causing them to feel that their characters
have suffered. It will stimulate them to great exertion to avoid all
misconduct, and it will prepare the way for separating them afterwards
without awakening feelings of resentment, if the experiment of their
sitting together should fail.
* * * * *
Another case would be managed perhaps in a little different way, where
the tendency to play was more decided. After speaking to the individuals
mildly, two or three times, you see them again at play. You ask them to
wait that day after school and come to your desk.
They have, then, the rest of the day to think occasionally of the
difficulty they have brought themselves into, and the anxiety and
suspense which they will naturally feel, will give you every advantage
for speaking to them with effect;--and if you should be engaged a few
minutes with some other business, after school, so that they should have
to stand a little while in silent expectation, waiting for their turn,
it would contribute to the permanence of the effect.
"Well, boys," at length you say, with a serious but frank tone of voice,
"I saw you playing in a disorderly manner to-day. And in the first place
I want you to tell me honestly all about it. I am not going to punish
you,--but I want you to be open and honest about it. What were you
doing?"
The boys hesitate.
"George, what did you have in your hand?"
"A piece of paper."
"And what were you doing with it?"
_George._ "William was trying to take it away from me."
"Was there any thing on it?"
"Yes sir."
"What?"
George looks down a little confused.
_William._ "George had been drawing some pictures on it.
"I see each of you are ready to tell of the other's fault, but it would
be much more honorable if each was open in acknowledging his own. Have I
ever had to speak to you before for playing together in school?"
"Yes sir, I believe you have," says one, looking down.
"More than once?"
"Yes sir."
"More than twice?"
"I do not recollect exactly,--I believe you have."
"Well, now, what do you think I ought to do next?"
The boys have nothing to say.
"Do you prefer sitting together, or are you willing to have me separate
you?"
"We should rather sit together, sir, if you are willing," says George.
"I have no objection to your sitting together, if you could only resist
the temptation to play. I want all the boys in the school to have
pleasant seats."
There is a pause,--the teacher hesitating what to do.
"Suppose now I were to make one more experiment, and let you try to be
good boys in your present seat, would you really try?"
"Yes sir."--"Yes sir, we will," are the replies.
"And if I should find that you still continue to play, and should have
to separate you, will you move into your new seats pleasantly, and with
good humor, feeling that I have done right about it?"
"Yes sir, we will."
* * * * *
Thus it will be seen that there may be cases where the teacher may make
arrangements for separating his scholars, on an open and distinct
understanding with them in respect to the cause of it. We have given
these cases not that exactly such ones will be very likely to occur, or
that when they do, the teacher is to manage them in exactly the way here
described, but to exhibit more clearly to the reader than could be done
by any general description, the spirit and tone which a teacher ought to
assume towards his pupils. We wished to exhibit this in contrast with
the harsh and impatient manner, which teachers too often assume in such
a case;--as follows.
"John Williams and Samuel Smith, come here to me," exclaims the master,
in a harsh, impatient tone, in the midst of the exercises of the
afternoon.
The scholars all look up from their work;--the culprits slowly rise from
their seats, and with a sullen air come down to the floor.
"You are playing, boys, all the time, and I will not have it. John, do
you take your books and go and sit out there by the window, and, Samuel,
you come and sit here on this front seat,--and if I catch you playing
again I shall certainly punish you severely."
The boys make the move, with as much rattling and disturbance as is
possible without furnishing proof of wilful intention to make a noise,
and when they get their new seats, and the teacher is again engaged upon
his work, they exchange winks and nods, and, in ten minutes, are slyly
cannonading each other with paper balls.
* * * * *
In regard to all the directions that have been given under this head, I
ought to say again before concluding it, that they are mainly applicable
to the case of beginners, and of small schools. The general principles
are, it is true, of universal application, but it is only where a school
is of moderate size that the details of position, in respect to
individual scholars, can be minutely studied. More summary processes are
necessary, I am aware, when the school is very large, and the time of
the teacher is incessantly engaged.
9. In some districts in New England, the young teacher will find one or
more boys, generally among the larger ones, who will come to the school
with the express determination to make a difficulty if they can. The
best way is generally to face these individuals at once, in the most
direct and open manner, and, at the same time, with perfect good humor,
and kindness of feeling and deportment towards them personally. An
example or two will best illustrate what I mean.
A teacher heard a rapping noise repeatedly, one day, just after he had
commenced his labors, under such circumstances as to lead him to suppose
it was designed. He did not appear to notice it, but remained after
school until the scholars had all gone, and then made a thorough
examination. He found at length a broken place in the plastering, where
a _lath_ was loose, and a string was tied to the end of it, and thence
carried along the wall under the benches, to the seat of a mischievous
boy, and fastened to a nail. By pulling the string he could spring the
lath, and then let it snap back to its place. He left every thing as it
was, and the next day while engaged in a lesson, he heard the noise
again.
He rose from his seat.
The scholars all looked up from their books.
"Did you hear that noise?" said he.
"Yes sir."
"Do you know what it is?"
"No sir."
"Very well, I only wanted to call your attention to it. I may perhaps
speak of it again, by and by."
He then resumed his exercise as if nothing had happened. The guilty boy
was agitated and confused, and was utterly at a loss to know what to do.
What could the teacher mean? Had he discovered the trick?--and if so
what _was_ he going to do?
He grew more and more uneasy, and resolved that, at all events, it was
best for him to retreat. Accordingly, at the next recess, as the teacher
had anticipated, he went slyly to the lath, cut the string, then
returned to his seat, and drew the line in, rolled it up, and put it in
his pocket. The teacher, who was secretly watching him, observed the
whole manoeuvre.
At the close of the school, when the books were laid aside, and all was
silence, he treated the affair thus.
"Do you remember the noise to which I called your attention early this
afternoon?
"Yes, sir."
"I will explain it to you now. One of the boys tied a string to a loose
lath in the side of the room, and then having the end of it at his seat,
he was pulling it, to make a noise to disturb us."
The scholars all looked astonished, and then began to turn round towards
one another to see who the offender could be. The culprit began to
tremble.
"He did it several times yesterday, and would have gone on doing it, had
I not spoken about it to-day. Do you think this was wrong or not?"
"Yes sir;" "wrong;" "wrong;" are the replies.
"What harm does it do?"
"It interrupts the school."
"Yes. Is there any other harm?"
The boys hesitate.
"It gives me trouble and pain. Should you not suppose it would?"
"Yes sir."
"Have I ever treated any boy or girl in this school unjustly or
unkindly?"
"No sir;" "No sir."
"Then why should any boy or girl wish to give me trouble or pain?"
There was a pause. The guilty individual expected that the next thing
would be to call him out for punishment.
"Now what do you think I ought to do with such a boy?"
No answer.
"Perhaps I ought to punish him, but I am very unwilling to do that. I
concluded to try another plan, to treat him with kindness and
forbearance. So I called your attention to it this afternoon, to let him
know that I was observing it, and to give him an opportunity to remove
the string. And he did. He went in the recess and cut off the string. I
shall not tell you his name, for I do not wish to injure his character.
All I want is to have him a good boy."
A pause.
"I think I shall try this plan; for he must have some feelings of honor
and gratitude, and if he has, he certainly will not try to give me pain
or trouble win after this. And now I shall say no more about it, nor
think any more about it; only, to prove that it is all as I say, if you
look there under that window, after school, you will see the lath with
the end of the string round it, and by pulling it, you can make it
snap."
* * * * *
Another case, a little more serious in its character, is the following.
A teacher having had some trouble with a rude and savage-looking boy,
made some inquiry respecting him out of school, and incidentally learned
that he had once or twice before openly rebelled against the authority
of the school, and that he was now, in the recesses, actually preparing
a club with which he was threatening to defend himself, if the teacher
should attempt to punish him.
The next day, soon after the boys had gone out, he took his hat and
followed them, and turning round a corner of the schoolhouse, found the
boys standing around the young rebel, who was sitting upon a log,
shaving the handle of the club smooth, with his pocket-knife. He was
startled at the unexpected appearance of the teacher, and the first
impulse was to hide his club behind him, but it was too late, and
supposing that the teacher was ignorant of his designs, he went on
sullenly with his work, feeling, however, greatly embarrassed.
"Pleasant day, boys," said the teacher. "This is a fine sunny nook for
you to talk in."
"Seems to me, however, you ought to have a better seat than this old
log," continued he, taking his seat at the same time by the side of the
boy.
"Not so bad a seat, however, after all. What are you making, Joseph?"
Joseph mumbled out something inarticulate by way of reply.
"I have got a sharper knife," said he, drawing his penknife out of his
pocket. And then, "Let me try it," he continued, gently taking the club
out of Joseph's hand.
The boys looked surprised, some exchanged nods and winks, others turned
away to conceal a laugh; but the teacher engaged in conversation with
them, and soon put them all at their ease, except poor Joseph, who could
not tell how this strange interview was likely to end.
In the mean time the teacher went on shaving the handle smooth, and
rounding the ends. "You want," said he, "a rasp or coarse file for the
ends, and then you could finish it finely. But what are you making this
formidable club for?"
Joseph was completely at a loss what to say. He began to show evident
marks of embarrassment and confusion.
"I know what it is for; it is to defend yourself against me with, is it
not, boys?" said he, appealing to the others.
A faint "yes sir," or two, was the reply.
"Well now, Joseph, it will be a great deal better for us both to be
friends than to be enemies. You had better throw this club away, and
save yourself from punishment by being a good boy. Come now," said he,
handing him back his club, "throw it over into the field as far as you
can, and we will all forget that you ever made it."
Joseph sat the picture of shame and confusion. Better feelings were
struggling for admission, and the case was decided by a broad-faced,
good-natured-looking boy, who stood by his side saying almost
involuntarily,
"Better throw it, Joe."
The club flew, end over end, into the field. Joseph returned to his
allegiance, and never attempted to rise in rebellion again.
The ways by which boys engage in open, intentional disobedience, are, of
course, greatly varied, and the exact treatment will depend upon the
features of the individual case. But the frankness, the openness, the
plain dealing, and the kind and friendly tone, which it is the object of
the foregoing illustrations to exhibit, should characterize all.
11. We have already alluded to the importance of a delicate regard for
the _characters_ of the boys, in all the measures of discipline adopted
at the commencement of a school. This is in fact of the highest
importance at all times, and is peculiarly so at the outset. A wound to
the feelings is sometimes inflicted by a single transaction, which
produces a lasting injury to the character. Children are very sensitive
to ridicule or disgrace, and some are most acutely so. A cutting reproof
administered in public, or a punishment which exposes the individual to
the gaze of others, will often burn far more deeply into the heart than
the teacher imagines.
And it is often the cause of great and lasting injury too. By destroying
the character of a pupil, you make him feel that he has nothing more to
lose or gain, and destroy that kind of interest in his own moral
condition, which alone will allure him to virtuous conduct. To expose
children to public ridicule or contempt, tends either to make them
sullen and despondent, or else to arouse their resentment and to make
them reckless and desperate. Most persons remember through life, some
instances in their early childhood, in which they were disgraced or
ridiculed at school; and the permanence of the recollection is a test of
the violence of the effect.
Be very careful then to avoid, especially at the commencement of the
school, publicly exposing those who do wrong. Sometimes you may make the
offence public, as in the case of the snapping of the lath described
under a former head, while you kindly conceal the name of the offender.
Even if the school generally understand who he is, the injury of public
exposure is almost altogether avoided, for the sense of disgrace does
not come nearly so vividly home to the mind of a child, from hearing
occasional allusions to his offence by individuals among his play-mates,
as when he feels himself at a particular time the object of universal
attention and dishonor. And then besides, if the pupil perceives that
the teacher is tender of his reputation, he will, by a feeling somewhere
between imitation and sympathy, begin to feel a little tender of it too.
Every exertion should be made therefore, to lead children to value their
character, and to help them to preserve it; and especially to avoid, at
the beginning, every unnecessary sacrifice of it.
And yet there are cases where shame is the very best possible remedy for
juvenile faults. If a boy, for example, is self-conceited, bold, and
mischievous, with feelings somewhat callous, and an influence extensive
and bad, an opportunity will sometimes occur to hold up his conduct to
the just reprobation of the school, with great advantage. By this means,
if it is done in such a way as to secure the influence of the school on
the right side, many good effects are sometimes attained. His pride and
self-conceit are humbled,--his bad influence receives a very decided
check, and he is forced to draw back at once from the prominent stand he
has occupied.
Richard Jones; for example, is a rude, coarse, self-conceited
boy,--often doing wrong both in school and out, and yet possessed of
that peculiar influence which a bad boy often contrives to exert in
school. The teacher, after watching some time for an opportunity to
humble him, one day overhears a difficulty among the boys, and looking
out of the window, observes that he is taking away a sled from one of
the little boys, to slide down hill upon, having none of his own. The
little boy resists as well as he can, and complains bitterly; but it is
of no avail.
At the close of the school that day, the teacher commences conversation
on the subject as follows.
"Boys, do you know what the difference is between stealing and robbery?"
"Yes sir."
"What?"
The boys hesitate, and look at one another.
"Suppose a thief were to go into a man's store in the day time, and take
away something secretly, would it be stealing or robbery?"
"Stealing."
"Suppose he should meet him in the road and take it away by force?"
"Then it would be robbery."
"Yes; when that which belongs to another is taken secretly, it is called
stealing; when it is taken openly or with violence, it is called
robbery. Which now do you think is the worst?"
"Robbery."
"Yes, for it is more barefaced and determined--then it gives a great
deal more pain to the one who is injured. To-day I saw one of the boys
in this school taking away another boy's sled, openly and with
violence."
The boys all look round towards Richard.
"Was that of the nature of stealing or robbery?"
"Robbery," say the boys.
"Was it real robbery?"
They hesitate.
"If any of you think of any reason why it was not real robbery, you may
name it."
"He gave the sled back to him," says one of the boys.
"Yes. And therefore to describe the action correctly, we should not say
Richard robbed a boy of his sled, but that he robbed him of his sled
_for a time_, or he robbed him of the use of his sled. Still, in respect
to the nature and the guilt of it, it was robbery."
"There is another thing which ought to be observed about it. Whose sled
was it that Richard took away?"
"James Thompson's."
"James, you may stand up."
"Notice his size, boys,--I should like to have Richard Jones stand up
too, so that you might compare them; but I presume he feels very much
ashamed of what he has done, and it would be very unpleasant for him to
stand up. You all remember, however, how large he is. Now when I was a
boy, it used to be considered dishonorable and cowardly for a large,
strong boy to abuse a little one who cannot defend himself. Is it
considered so now?"
"Yes sir."
"It ought to be, certainly; though, were it not for such a case as this,
we should not have thought of considering Richard Jones a coward. It
seems he did not dare to try to take away a sled from a boy who was as
big as himself, but attacked little James, for he knew he was not strong
enough to defend himself."
* * * * *
Now, in some such cases as this, great good may be done both in respect
to the individual, and to the state of public sentiment in school, by
openly exposing a boy's misconduct. The teacher must always take care,
however, that the state of mind and character in the guilty individual,
is such that public exposure is adapted to work well as a remedy, and
also that in managing it he carries the sympathies of the other boys
with him. To secure this, he must avoid all harsh and exaggerated
expressions, or direct reproaches, and while he is mild and gentle and
forbearing himself, lead the boys to understand and feel the nature of
the sin which he exposes. The opportunities for doing this to advantage
will, however, be rare. Generally it will be best to manage cases of
discipline more privately, so as to protect the characters of those that
offend.
* * * * *
The teacher should thus, in accordance with the directions we have
given, commence his labors with careful circumspection, patience,
frankness, and honest good will towards every individual of his charge.
He will find less difficulty at the outset than he would have expected,
and soon have the satisfaction of perceiving that a mild but most
efficient government is quietly and firmly established in the little
kingdom over which he is called to reign.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Note:
Summarized here are the corrections applied to the text.
We can then see how much improvement has been
"improvement" was printed as "impovement"
at his own discretion, waive it.
"waive" was printed as "wave"
evil consequences will result
"consequences" was printed as "conquences"
between the boys of a town school and an academy
"academy" was printed as "acadamy"
sits at the curtained desk
"sits" was printed as "sists"
Proposed, that a music committee be appointed
"that" was printed as "That"
misspelled word
"misspelled" was printed as "mispelled"
in periodicals devoted to education
"devoted" was printed as "dovoted"
are cases of discipline
"discipline" was printed as "dicipline"
*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Teacher - Or, Moral Influences Employed in the Instruction and - Government of the Young" ***
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