EDWIN C. HEWETT.

NORMAL, JANUARY 18, 1884.
ILLINOIS STATE NORMAL UNIVERSITY,
 
 
 

PEDAGOGY.

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CHAPTER I.
GENERAL STATEMENT.

Pedagogy.--This new word, Pedagogy, * means the science and art of teaching; but it means more than that. It means the taking of young children, and, by means of both skillful teaching and wise training, leading them up to worthy manhood and womanhood.
It has been said that the ability to do this work well requires knowledge of three distinct kinds, or in three distinct fields; namely, a knowledge of the being who is to be taught and trained, a knowledge of those branches, by the study of which his mental growth is to be promoted, and a knowledge of the proper methods by which the matter to be taught, and the being to be taught, shall be brought into the most healthful and fruitful relations to each other.

Man: his Nature and Powers

.---It is, therefore, proper that we should begin our work by a consideration of the nature and powers of the being that we propose to teach and train. Man is curiously made up of mind and matter, so wonderfully blended that no one can tell exactly how they live and work together. Of the real nature of both mind and matter, we are profoundly ignorant. No one can tell what either is : we can study their phenomena only.
Man has a body, and he has a mind; he has, also powers that belong to the body, and others that belong to the mind. Pedagogy must study the laws of development and action, relating to both classes of power.

POWER is the ability to do something .

For the sake of distinction, we may call the powers that pertain to the body, as those shown by the muscles, material powers; and we may call those powers that pertain especially to the mind, as the power to remember, the power to love, etc., immaterial powers. To be sure, the mind's powers do not show themselves wholly independent of the body. When we remember or love, we use the brain; but we do not believe that the changes in the brain make memory or love, although the exercise of these powers is without doubt accompanied by changes in the brain. We do not believe that "the brain secretes thought as the liver secretes bile." The truth seems to be that, in some way not fully understood, the mind uses the brain as its instrument.
Our best philosophers teach us that the mind itself is one indivisible thing: it does not possess organs, as the body does, nor it is a bundle of powers; but it has many powers which it can exercise in various ways. When we love, it is the entire mind that loves, and not part of it, although it may work with more or less force in the act. The same is true when we remember, when we will, etc.
Grand Divisions of Mental Power.---The powers of the mind, or the immaterial powers of man, are very numerous; but he may all be arranged in three classes. This is the teaching of almost all of the modern philosophers; but, formerly, philosophers divided these powers into two groups instead of three.
The three groups of immaterial powers, or the powers of mind, are:
1st, Those powers by which we know, or the Intellect.
2nd, Those by which we feel, or the Sensibility.
3rd, The power by which we choose and execute, or the Will.

In speaking of the immaterial powers of man and their phenomena, we are obliged to borrow most of our terms from the body and its phenomena. This is a somewhat unfortunate, as the terms thus borrowed are likely to be misunderstood. The word feel, which we have just used, is an example of such a term. When one speaks of feeling sorrow, he means something very different from that which he means when he speaks of feeling the table with his finger. In the latter case, he means an affection of the mind through the nerves of the body. This is perception, or an exercise of one of the knowing powers. In the former case, he means an affection of the mind independent of the nerves, as when he feels sorrow for the loss of a friend. This is an exercise of sensibility.

The action of the three grand classes of mental powers may be illustrated in the following way: You take up a newspaper and read of the floods in the lower Mississippi valley. You are able to understand what the writer says -- to think his thoughts after him -- and his thoughts awaken new thoughts of your own. Thus, you see that you have the power to know, to think, -- or, you have Intellect. As you read of the sufferings the floods cause the people, you begin to pity them and to desire to relieve their suffering. You thus see that you have the power to feel, --or, you possess Sensibility. You learn that others are sending money to aid these poor people; moved by your feelings, you determine to join in the contribution. Thus, you see that you have the power to choose, to determine, --or, you have Will.
Thus, we have represented the three grand classes of mental powers; nor is there any mental faculty that can not be properly grouped under one of these three classes. Moreover, these classes of mental powers always act in the order here given. It is inconceivable that we should have feeling in regard to any matter till we know something about it, or think we do. Nor do we ever put forth any activity of the will till we are prompted to it by the same feeling.

This is illustrated in the case of the "prodigal son." He "came to himself," and thought; he felt, in respect to his wretched condition and the plenty at his father's house; he then resolved to arise and go to his father.

A wise writer, or orator, or teacher, who wants to lead men up to a resolution, always observe this order. He strives first to awaken thought, -- to make people know something about the matter in hand. He then seeks to arouse their feelings in view of what they know and think. It is only after both these results are reached that he hopes to bring them to any resolution, or choice, or action, respecting the matter.
 
 

CHAPTER II.
 

THE INTELLECT.

THE group of knowing powers, or the Intellect, is subdivided into four groups, viz.: the Presentative Powers, the Representative Powers, the Reflective Powers, and the Intuitive Power.

The presentative powers give us knowledge of the outside world through the senses.
The representative powers give us concepts of absent objects.
The reflective powers show us the relations and connections of objects, or of their concepts.
The intuitive power is the power by which we know certain fundamental things without being taught.

The word "object" must not be confined to material things.

The Presentative Powers. -- The Presentative Powers, often called the Perceptives, seem to get their name in this way: The ancients used to divide the universe, for every man, into the Ego and the Non-ego; the Ego is the man himself, and the Non-ego includes everything except himself. The presentative powers, or the senses, present, as it were, the things of the Non-ego to the Ego, shut up, as he seems to be, somewhere in this bodily tenement,--they are a kind of "introductions committee."
The senses are commonly said to be five in number,--Feeling, or the sense of touch; Seeing, Hearing, Tasting, and Smelling. To these, some philosophers add a sixth sense, which they call the Sense of Resistance to the muscular effort.
FEELING is the most general of all the senses, as it extends over the whole body, wherever the nerves are found. There is some propriety in saying that the others senses are modifications of feeling, because they all require special nerves for their action. All these special nerves are located in the head. Two of the sense, seeing and hearing, in addition to the special nerves, also require curiously constructed organs.

Most of the words used to designate the powers of the mind may also signify the acts which the powers perform; thus, Feeling may mean the power to feel, or the act of feeling. The same is true of Memory, Judgment, etc. Whenever we use one of these words, we do well to think carefully whether we mean by it the power, or the act which that power is able to perform.

The sense of feeling make us acquainted with such objects only as are close to us. It also acts slowly, from the parts to the whole; this is illustrated by the actions of a blind man as he studies objects that he handles. We all act in a similar way when we grope in the dark.
SEEING is very different; it shows us objects that are near, or very distant, and it acts very rapidly; it gives us notions of things as wholes at first, and afterward studies their parts. The special nerves of sight are called the optic nerves. But sight can not act when light is absent, nor when the rays are obstructed by opaque objects.
HEARING.--The medium through which we hear must always be present where life is possible, for it is the air we breathe; nor do intervening objects wholly prevent our hearing. No other sense affects the emotions so quickly or so deeply as hearing; this is seen in the effects of music, or of the tones of the voice. The auditory nerve is special nerve of hearing.

The senses we have considered make us acquainted with the size, shape, position, resonance, etc., of bodies; in other words, with such qualities as have relation to space.

TASTING AND SMELLING.--But tasting and smelling, by means of the gustatory and olfactory nerves, enable us to learn much of the composition and condition of bodies. We judge by these senses whether substance are fit to be taken into our organism or not. Hence, the special nerves for these senses are found in the mouth and nose, the gateways to the stomach and lungs.
SENSE OF RESISTANCE.--When you allow an object to merely touch your hand, you simply feel it; but when you let it rest upon your hand, and put forth muscular effort to sustain it, your sense seems to give you something besides simple feeling; you have a sense of something resisting your muscular effort. This is why philosophers say that there is a sixth sense; and they say that no other sense makes us know so soon and so certainly that there are objects outside of our own organism.

Teachers can teach young children a great many truths about the "five senses," but they would better say nothing about the sixth sense. Children should understand that it is the mind that acts through these nerves and organs of the senses. The eye does not see; but the mind sees by means of the eye.
Because the sense of resistance to muscular effort is not regarded by all as a separate sense, distinct from mere feeling, we have placed an interrogation mark after it in the scheme.

The Representative Powers.--The representative powers give us concepts of absent objects in two ways; viz., either as they are or were, or as they might be. When the concept is as the object was or is, the mental act is reproduction. If you know that the thing reproduced is a concept of some former mental possession, you recognize it, or know it again. These two mental acts--reproduction and recognition--make up the act of memory; hence,

MEMORY is that representative power which brings before the mind concepts of absent objects as they are or were, and recognizes them.

Concepts of anything the mind has ever possessed, -- sights, sounds, tastes, thoughts, feelings, former concepts, etc., may thus come before the mind and be recognized, for memory can bring before us all these things.

It is probable that a very large share of the concepts that are really reproductions are not recognized; they may seem to us to be original; often we question when a thing "comes into the mind," whether it is something that we remember, or is really a new thing. Not long since, a certain eminent preacher was accused of plagiarism. It seems to be clear that he had used in his sermon whole sentences just as they were to be found in a book, which he had admitted he had read. His defense was that his mind had great tenacity in retaining words, and that these words were not recognized when they were reproduced. Whatever the fact may have been, his defense was psychologically a plausible one.

IMAGINATION is that representative power which gives us concepts of absent objects, not as they are or were, but as they might be.

Illustrations .--You turn your face towards a church and notice carefully how it looks; you are now perceiving it by sight. You turn away, and before your "mind's eye" stands the same form as clearly as before: the representative power has reproduced a concept of what was perceived. You know that you are conceiving of the building as it was, so you recognize the concept,--you remember the building.
You now begin to play with this concept; you replace the brick with stone; you give it extra towers; you elevate the spire to twice its present height, etc. You are now conceiving of the absent object as it might be. Imagination is at work.
 
 

CHAPTER III.

THE INTELLECT. -- Concluded.

The Reflective Power acts in several ways; authors do not agree fully in respect to their number. We may safely indicate five of these ways of acting, and perhaps the list will not be exhausted. The five of which we shall speak are: Comparing, Abstracting, Judging, Generalizing, and Reasoning .

By some authors, the Reflective Power is called the Understanding; by others, it is called the Elaborative Faculty.
Because writers on Psychology do not agree as to the exact number of forms in which the Reflective Power acts, we have placed the abbreviation Etc. After our list, in the Scheme.

COMPARING.--As the Reflective Power deals with the relations of things, or of the concepts of things, rather than with the things themselves, it will be obvious that much of its action must be in the form of comparison. It notes the relations of size, length, position, density, value, purpose, cause and effect, agreement, and a multitude of others.

Comparison is clearly involved in abstracting, judging, generalizing, reasoning, etc.; hence, some writers regard comparison as including all the various forms of the Reflecting Power.

ABSTRACTING.--It is seen that the process of abstraction is a very common one, when we observe the large number of abstract terms which are used even by children and uncultivated people. The process of abstraction has sometimes been illustrated in this way: you look at several objects having a common color, as a red ribbon, a red book, a red necktie, etc. You note their color in connection with the other qualities of those objects. You now perceive the color in the concrete. You turn away, or shut your eyes, and think of what you have just seen; you now conceive the color in the concrete. Again, you drop out of thought all the other qualities of the several objects, but still think of the color in connection with each object; you are now conceiving of the color in the discrete. Once more, all thought of the objects disappears, and you think of the color only, apart from every object and from all other qualities. You are now conceiving of redness in the abstract,--that is, drawn away from everything else. It is probable that some such process as this is often gone through with by those who have not thought of the peculiar form of mental activity they are exercising.
JUDGING.--In judging, the mind holds before itself two concepts, and decides that they agree or disagree; these concepts may be simple or very complex. You bring before your mind a concept of the thing we call snow, and a concept of the quality whiteness; you decide that these agree, and you say, "Snow is white." You bring before your mind a concept of the act called murder, and a concept of the quality rightness; you decide that they do not agree, and you say, "Murder is not right." Every judgment, then, involves two concepts, and the decision respecting them.

PROPOSITION.--The expression of a judgment is a proposition .

This definition is often expressed in a false form by saying, "A proposition is a judgment expressed." In objection to this, we say a proposition is not a judgment expressed or unexpressed; the judgment is the thing, the proposition is the expression or symbol of the thing. Here, as everywhere, the teacher can not afford to confound a thing and its symbol.
As a judgment involves three things, so a proposition must have three parts; these we call subject, attribute, and copula. The subject is the word or words denoting the principle concept; the attribute is the word or words denoting the related concept; and the copula is the word or words expressing the decision. Both copula and attribute may be expressed by a single word, as in the proposition, Water flows. In this relation of judgment and proposition is the foundation of grammar.

GENERALIZING.--In generalizing, the mind acts in a direction the reverse of that in abstracting; instead of taking several objects and drawing from them a common quality, we take a quality and group together the objects that possess it. A large part of the work of the student of natural science is of this kind. If we take the quality of possessing a backbone, we may group together all the animals that have this quality, and call them vertebrates. Of course, an act of judgment must precede the putting of every object into its class, or the rejection of it from a class.

The common quality according to which we generalize may be obvious, but not important, as in the formation of the group of animals called quadrupeds; in such a case, we have merely a loose classification. In true generalization, or scientific classification, we arrange the objects with reference to some important or fundamental quality. Should a servant girl classify a library, probably she would do it very loosely, putting together books of the same color, or size, or condition; the owner would classify by arranging the books according to their contents,--putting together those which treat of a common subject.

REASONING.--We can not enter very fully into the subject of Reasoning,--Logic is a science in itself. In a process of systematic reasoning, we compare two related propositions, and deduce a third which necessarily follows from the comparison. The two given propositions are called premises; the on derived is called the conclusion. To illustrate: 1st, Four pencils cost four times as much as one pencil; 2nd, One pencil costs three cents; hence, 3rd, Four pencils cost four times three cents, or twelve cents. Here the first premise states a general truth; the second premise states a contingent truth, and the conclusion inevitably follows from the premises. The two premises and the conclusion together make up a syllogism. A process of reasoning may make clear what is involved in the premises, but it can never lead to the discovery of any thing not contained in the premises.

The Intuitive Power

.--It is said that the Intuitive Power acts in only one way, but its products are of two kinds. By this power, we know certain necessary, self-evident truths, and also certain fundamental notions or ideas.

Some assert that we get all our knowledge, of every sort, through experience and reflection; they claim that this is as true in regard to what we have called the truths and ideas of intuition as it is of our knowledge of the qualities of objects. We hold, however, that observation and experience merely furnish an occasion for this kind of knowledge; they do not cause us to have it.

TRUTHS.--Thus, we know that a part can not equal the whole; we know that the same thing can not be in two places at the same time; we know that a statement can not be both true and not true at the same time and in the same sense. All such truths every sane and sound mind knows at once, as soon as it is capable of comprehending clearly what is said. We can not disbelieve them, if we try. No attempt at proof can make us believe them any more firmly. In fact, no proof of them is possible; we may illustrate such truths, but we can not demonstrate them. Many of these truths are included in the axioms of mathematics; but there are axioms which do not belong to mathematics.
All necessary, self-evident truths, have these three characteristics: 1st, They are true everywhere, and at all times; 2d, They can not be demonstrated; 3d, The contradictory of any one of them is manifestly absurd. To illustrate, take the axiom that a whole is equal to the sum of all its parts. This must be true everywhere, and it must be true at all times. We may illustrate it,--that is, we may show it to be true in any given case; but we can not prove that it will always be true in every case. The contradictory, viz., that the whole is not equal to the sum of all its parts, is seen to be absurd at once by any one capable of understanding the statement.
IDEAS.--Philosophers do not agree as to the number of fundamental ideas given us by Intuition. We may safely say that there are seven of them, at least; viz., Being, Time, Space, Beauty, Cause, Right, and Personal Identity .
Being .--By the intuitive idea of Being, we mean that all men naturally and always believe in the existence of themselves and of other things. None but crazy men and some philosophers ever think or talk as if there could be any doubt about this.
Time .--The intuitive idea of Time means the necessary notion of time as passing whenever we think of the occurrence of events. We can not rid ourselves of this idea; in thought we may empty time of every event, but we can not think the time away. In respect to definite amounts of time, we exercise our judgment and experience; but the idea that there must be some amount of time is intuitive.
Space .--The intuitive idea of Space is very similar. We judge the amounts of space in any particular instance, but we can not get rid of the idea that space is, and must be; we can empty it in thought, but we can not think it away, nor think of it as finite.
Beauty.--The intuitive idea of Beauty is that there is, and must be, such a thing as beauty; or in other words, that some things are beautiful and some are not. The child shows that he has this idea very early; "pretty" is one of his first words. The judgment decides as to the beauty of any particular thing, and the decisions differ very widely.
Cause .--We believe intuitively that every effect must have a cause; the child shows that this idea is inherent by his questions "Why?" "What makes it?" etc. A cause that is not itself caused is inconceivable to him; is it not beyond the conception of any one? Judgment pronounces as to what the cause is, in a particular case.

It is highly important that we do not confound the occasion of a thing with its cause. The occasion of a thing allows it to be or to be done; the cause makes it to be or to be done. To illustrate: The expansive force of steam is the cause of motion in the locomotive; the opening of the valve, or throttle, is the occasion of the motion.

Right .--The idea that there is such a thing as Right,--that some things are right, and others are wrong,--seems to be intuitive. "Is it right?" is a question that has a meaning to a very young child; parents and teachers would do better to ask it more frequently. Judgment decides whether a specific thing is right or not.
Personal Identity .--No sane person can divest himself of the idea that he is himself,--the same personality that he always has been,--it is intuitive; he is conscious that it is so, and that is the end of all question. Nor would the testimony of a thousand strengthen his conviction.
We may say that a knowledge of these fundamental, intuitive truths and ideas is innate, --that is, we are so constituted at birth that, as soon as the occasion arises for this knowledge, we have it, and that without any instruction or study. And we take it for granted that every one else has this knowledge the same as we have; we pronounce one an idiot, or insane, if he is lacking in this respect. For, a recognition of these products of Intuition constitutes what we call natural reason; and when one loses this knowledge,--as, for instance, when one loses this knowledge,--as, for instance, when one imagines himself the Czar of Russia,--we say that he has lost his reason. Reason, as we here use it, must not be confounded with the Power of reasoning; some insane people can reason most logically, but they have lost their reason, as they show in various ways.

Review

.--Let us look, for a moment, at the four grand forms of intellectual power, as we have studied them.
The Presentative Powers gather knowledge for us.
The Representative Powers treasure the knowledge we have gained.
The Reflective Power examines this knowledge, and discovers its import and its value and use.
The Intuitive Power gives us a knowledge of the regulative truths and ideas that must be regarded in our work.
Or, if we compare knowledge to grain, the presentative powers are the reaper; the representative powers are the granary; the reflective power is the mill, and the intuitive power provides for the correct performance of the work. Grain is of no value till it is gathered and stored; nor can it be of any use until it is ground; but let us remember that every thing which shall appear in the final product must have gone into the "hopper." The mill creates nothing.
 
 
 

CHAPTER IV.

THE SENSIBILITY, WILL, ETC.

The Sensibility

.---We have studied briefly the different forms of intellectual power; we will now turn our attention to the Sensibility. We shall not attempt an exhaustive analysis of this power, but we will mention only a few of its forms that are most concerned in the work of the educator. We will speak of the Appetites and Desires, Loves, Hates, Admiration, and Reverence.
Appetites and Desires.--When we speak of the Appetites, we usually mean such desires as have reference to the body, like the desire for sleep, food, etc. We use the term Desires in distinction from Appetites, to signify such desires as do not pertain especially to bodily wants, as the desire for praise, for excellence, etc.
LOVES.--We put the word Love in the plural, meaning to include not only what may strictly be called love, as love of friends, country, etc., but also what might be more properly called a liking, as a fondness for fine dress, for certain articles of food, etc.
HATES.--The word Hate is put in the plural for a similar reason. We mean by it not only hate properly so called, as a hate for evil things, but also all the different aversions and dislikes, as well.
ADMIRATION.--The word Admiration was formerly nearly synonymous with wonder. It retains something of the same meaning still, but there is added to wonder a sense of approbation as well. We admire that which seems to us wonderful and pleasing at the same time.
REVERENCE.--By Reverence, we mean a profound respect for what is great or good, or both. When it becomes intense, we call it Veneration.
Conscience.---There is another very important power or faculty of the mind which we would class with the sensibilities, or emotions, or feelings, although it is by no means so placed by all writers. We refer to the Conscience, which we believe is primarily and properly a feeling; but many, holding that conscience includes a judgment of what is right or wrong, as well as a feeling in respect to what is right or wrong, are inclined to class it among the knowing faculties, or, perhaps, rather to put it in a class by itself. We would define Conscience as follows:

CONSCIENCE is the feeling that prompts us to do what we believe is right, and to avoid what we believe is wrong, and that commends us when we obey it, and condemns us when we disobey it.

It is judgment that determines whether any particular thing is right or wrong. In respect to their judgments as to what is right and what is wrong, men differ widely; their conclusions are sometimes diametrically opposed to each other. Yet, regarding the right or wrong of many things, as murder, cruelty, oppression, kindness, truth, honesty, etc., the judgments of men are nearly harmonious.

But, if our definition of conscience is correct, then we may say that conscience is the same in all men, and in all ages; its action is always uniform. It is said that the Hindoo mother conscientiously throws her babe into the Ganges, while the Christian mother conscientiously preserves and cherishes her offspring; and, hence, we are told that conscience acts very differently in different cases. Now, it seems clear that conscience is the same, and acts in the same way, in both women; each does what she believes to be right. Owing to a difference in education, probably, their judgments lead to different conclusions; but in their consciences, they agree completely.
We have said that our definition of conscience would not be accepted at all; but we believe it to be correct. If it were accepted, and the proper distinction between judgment and conscience were always kept in mind, many of the vexatious disputes concerning conscience would be settled, or, at least, the discussion would be simplified.
 

The Will.---The action of the Will takes only one form, but it involves two elements, as appears in the following definition :

There is not action of the Will when we execute without any choice; nor does choice constitute an act of the Will unless some effort is put forth in consequence of our choice. A mere choice, with no attempt at execution, is a wish. The moral quality of actions resides in the choices which lead to them; nor can we avoid the responsibility of choice. If, between any two courses of action, we choose not to follow either, we have exercised the power of choice in the act of not choosing.
 

THE WILL is the Power by which we choose and execute.

There is no action of the Will when we execute without any choice; nor does choice constitute an act of the Will unless some effort is put forth in consequence of our choice. A mere choice, with no attempt at execution, is a wish. The moral quality of actions resides in the choices which lead to them; nor can we avoid the responsibility of choice. If, between any two courses of actions, we choose not to follow either, we have exercised the power of choice in the act of not choosing.

Other Powers

.---We have already defined a Power as the ability to do something; but some philosophers make a distinction between a mental Power and a mental Faculty.

A FACULTY is a power under the control of the Will, having a specific work of its own to do .

According to this definition, we must class Seeing, Memory, Judgment, Love, etc., as mental faculties. But the mind has three very important powers that do not answer to the definition of faculties; these are, Consciousness, Attention, and Conception.

The powers of Consciousness, Attention, and Conception never act separately from each other, nor from some one or more of the mind's faculties. These powers are not co-ordinate with the other mental powers, but are connected with them all. Hence, in the Scheme on page 14, [scheme II] their names are written across, opposite a brace that includes the powers of all the three Grand Divisions.

CONSCIOUSNESS is the power the mind has to know its own actions and states, and know them as belonging to the Ego .

This is not a faculty; it is not under the control of the Will, nor does it perform any specific act of itself--it gives cognizance of the acts performed by the faculties.

Whether there can be any mental action of which we are not conscious, is a question that has been much discussed. It seems very clear that there can be no proper activity of the mind if we are not conscious of that activity; not to know that one sees, is not to see. No doubt, however, there is a great deal of brain activity of which we are not conscious. When we perform any habitual act, as walking, we know that every muscular movement is prompted by an action of the brain, directly or indirectly; but, having once put the "machine in motion," we have not consciousness of the further action of the brain; the movements seem to be purely automatic. There is brain activity, no doubt, but we believe that it does not involve any mental activity, properly speaking.
What we have called brain activity, as distinct from mental activity, is called "unconscious cerebration" by many writers.
Some writers speak of "unconscious knowledge." Such an expression seems to be contradictory in terms. Yet much of our knowledge, doubtless, has not been consciously formulated; a child or a savage knows that a part can not equal the whole, and still he may not be able to state his knowledge to another,--perhaps his mind has never conceived such a statement.

ATTENTION is the power the mind has to bring all its force to bear on one thing .

Important as this power is, it produces no result alone, and of itself. Hence, it is not to be considered a faculty, although it is under the control of the Will.

When we say that Attention is under the control of the Will, we do not mean that it never acts except in obedience to a mandate of the Will, but simply that the Will can cause it to act. The same is true of other voluntary powers; we often remember without willing to do so, but Memory can be moved by the Will.
If it be asked how the mind turns its force to one thing in an act of the attention, the answer seems to be that it is done by not allowing the mental force to move toward any thing else.
Illustration .--The mental current may be compared to a stream of water--it flows constantly. In revery and absence of attention, it is like that stream flowing down the mountain side, and spreading, unrestricted, over the meadows; it may be pleasant enough, but it does not work. When one wishes to put the stream to work, he puts a dam across it, and allows no place of escape, except at the point where he puts his wheel. So we put the mind to work by confining the mental force to one point of escape. If we can do this completely, the attention is perfect,-- no force is lost; if not, the power in part escapes like lost water through a leaky dam.
The question is discussed, whether we can perform any mental act without some degree of attention. As in the same question respecting consciousness, the answer is clearly in the negative. The reason is essentially the same; it is inconceivable that there can be consciousness of that to which no attention is given.
It is also asked whether the mind can attend to more than one thing at a time; much has been written on this question. It seems clear that we can attend to several things; but, is such a case, the attention is not perfect, of course.
 

CONCEPTION.--It is not easy to frame a short and satisfactory definition for Conception, although there is a little difficulty in mentioning the particular things that it does. It is the power by which we see with the "mind's eye" things not present; by which we perceive the abstract relations of things; by which we get clear notions through discourse or thinking; by which we understand why and how things may be, etc.
When a teacher, after explaining a problem in algebra, asks the pupil if he "sees it," he means to ask if it is clear to his conception; of course, he means to ask if it is clear to his conception; of course, he has no reference to the act of sight. Perhaps the best short statement for Conception, is to say that it is the power by which we see with the "minds eye." When we conceive of a thing fully, we see all its limitations; we "take it in;" we comprehend it. But we often apprehend things that we can not comprehend; just as one may see something of a mountain when much of it is hidden in clouds.

We must not limit the possibility of things by our power to comprehend them. Many possible things are inconceivable; for instance, the matter of this earth must have been created out of nothing, or it must always have existed in some form without any beginning; both these things are utterly inconceivable, and yet not only is one of them possible things are perfectly conceivable, as the passage of a flying ship to the moon.

Conception is largely under the control of the Will, but it accompanies all the other mental powers, and produces no specific work of its own; hence, it is not a faculty.

There is a special use of the Conceptive power in forming abstract, general concepts; for instance, when the ideas of surface limited by three lines, are combined, we have the abstract, general concept signified by the word triangle. This combination is made by Conception acting with the Reflective Power; such a use of the Conceptive Power my be called Logical Conception.

Use of the Powers

.---Having made this brief survey of the mental powers and faculties, we may ask: Are some of these good and some bad? Are some to be cherished and cultivated, and some to be crushed out? The truth is, that all were given for a good use, and all may be abused; it is just as wrong to love evil as to hate good. Even veneration may work the greatest evil, as in the idolater. All these powers are good in one sense, is they are well adapted to their purpose; just as a knife is good, if it is made of good steel. But moral goodness can not be predicated of the powers any more than it can of the knife; the good knife may be used to carve a roast or to kill a man, -- the moral quality lies in the use.
So all these powers may be used for good or for bad purposes, and it should be the business of education to make all these powers efficient, and also to lead to their right use in all cases, and to prevent their wrong use.
 
 

CHAPTER V.

WHAT IS EDUCATION?

WHAT is education? If this question were put to each person who proposes to teach school, the answers would be very different. Probably it would appear that many of the candidates for the teacher's position had never seriously thought of the question,--had never clearly set before their own minds the nature of the work they were about to undertake.

Learning not Education

.---Doubtless, many would show that, in their thought, education is simply the acquiring of knowledge,--the laying up of a store of facts, in the memory; they would make learning and education synonymous terms. Probably this is the common opinion of a majority of our people. But is should be clearly understood that learning is not education. Without doubt, they are closely related; learning is an aid to education; on one can become truly educated without becoming more or less learned. But the two words do not mean the same thing. Learning is a possession; but education is a part of one's self; it gives one the mastery of himself,--it trains and develops his powers, and gives him control over them.

Many men are learned, but not educated; that is, they have an extensive knowledge of the facts of science, or literature, or history; but they have never learned how to use them is such a way as to make them a source of power to themselves. On the other hand, many men may be said to be well educated, who are not very learned. They have no great stores of knowledge, but they have made such use of the knowledge they have obtained that their powers have been strengthened and developed, and they have come to be masters of themselves. The stock of knowledge that they may have acquired in school or college, or they may have acquired in school or college, or they may have acquired most of it on the farm, or in the factory, or shop; or, as in the case of Lincoln, by poring over a few books by the light of a pine knot in the kitchen.

Definitions.--- "Education is the development of the faculties, or germs of power, in man, and the training of them into harmonious action in obedience to the laws of reason and morality ."

An eminent teacher has briefly defined education as cultured growth .
If we examine the word itself in respect to its radical meaning, we get essentially the same thought; the root of the word, duc , is from a Latin verb meaning to lead , and the prefix e is from the preposition ex , meaning out .

EDUCATION is a leading out or developing of the powers whose germs the child possesses at his birth .

All these definitions are in substantial harmony; and they show that education really means much more than simply storing the mind with facts. The getting of knowledge is an important part of school work; but it is not all, nor is it the most important. The development of power in all right directions is the main business of the school, and all the knowledge obtained should be gained and used in such a way as to help forward this growth of power.
Some writers on education are inclined to speak of certain studies as useful chiefly in giving information, while others have their chief value in the training they give,--they are a kind of mental gymnastics. The last class of studies they sometimes call forming studies; and the first, informing studies. This distinction does not, however, seem to be a very wise one; all proper studies give useful information, and all studies can be so pursued as to aid in the development of mental power. And, however valuable the knowledge gained, the growth of power should be the chief aim of all our school work.

Relation of Teacher and Pupil.---Now, what can the teacher do in the work of a true education? The work of the real educator is quite like that of the skillful gardener or nurseryman. He prepares the soil, he puts the seed in the proper place, he watches the growing shoot, he stirs the earth about it, he removes weeds and insects that would injure it, etc. In this way, the result is something quite different from what it would have been without the gardener, --the result is a "cultivated growth." The plant has done the growing; the gardener has contributed the culture. So with the person who is educated,--the result will depend chiefly on the putting forth of his own power. Strictly speaking, one can not give another an education; he may contribute the culture, but the growth must always come from within, by the pupil's own effort. It seems that there are only four things possible for a teacher to do in this process, viz.:
He may arouse, incite, and encourage his pupil.
He may set before him the right kind and amount of work to do.
He may guide him to do the work in the right way.
He may make the circumstances favorable by saving him from the annoyance of others, etc.
What more can he do?

Given Powers Only

.---Nor is it in the power of the educator to change the nature of the child. Every child that is sound and sane is born with the germs of all the powers common to human beings, but these germs have very different degrees of strength in different persons. Hence, it follows that no processes of education can make all to be alike; nor can any one become very strong by a process of education in any direction, if, by his native endowment, he is weak in that direction.

If Newton had been educated for an artist, even under the best teachers, and Angelo had been educated for a mathematician, under teachers equally good, it is not at all probable that these eminent men would have changed places; most likely neither would have achieved distinction.

A SPECIAL EDUCATION has for its purpose the acquiring of some art, or trade, or profession. In such an education, it would be foolish to spend one's effort in cultivating weaker powers; excellent endowments in any direction indicate that in that direction lies the road to the greatest power and usefulness. Hence, the folly of choosing a career for a young man before he is old enough to have shown his individual peculiarities,--to have determined his "bent."
A GENERAL EDUCATION has for its purpose to make of the given child the best possible specimen of a man or woman. This should be the education attempted in all our common schools and colleges. As the man or woman should be symmetrical as possible in all that pertains to a manly or womanly character, it follows that, in such an education, weakness in any direction calls for special effort to develop the child in that particular,--a course quite the opposite of that to be taken in a special education.
Nor should the work of special education be undertaken till that of a general education is fairly done. The man is more than the artist, or doctor, or mechanic. It is a pity that so many of our American youth are so impatient to undertake their life-work that they have not patience to lay a broad general foundation before they attempt to build their special structure. The result is weakness and narrowness to the end of their career.

Education Requires Time

.---Our age is marked by mechanical invention; by the steam engine, the telegraph, the labor-saving machine, etc., we are able to do many things much more rapidly than we once could. Many seem disposed to think that something may be contrived by which the work of education may be shortened in a corresponding degree. In fact, if we may judge by the astonishing professions and promises of some very young institutions, we might conclude that the "short cut" to an education has been found, --or, at least, that it is expected to make people believe that it has been found.

Why is it not reasonable to expect that the work of education can be thus shortened, seeing that we have achieved such wonderful results in other things? The answer is easy. All these wonderful inventions result in mechanical effects. Education is growth. If one wishes his lot enclosed by a fence, he can have it done in a few hours by employing workmen enough; but if he chooses to have a living hedge around it, he must wait. When some method is found by which a fine sugar-maple, three feet in diameter, can be produced in six months, then it will be time enough to listen to these very smart people who promise a finished education is the same time.

Principles and Methods

.---We have taken a brief survey of the most important powers of man. We have seen what Education really is, and what it ought to do for these powers.
Let us now make some suggestions in respect to the work of training or educating these powers.
BEST METHODS.--It is not our purpose to give any set of best methods for doing this work. Such a task would be utterly impossible, for the simple reason that one must be largely governed by circumstances in the devising or adopting of methods. It will follow, from what is said above, that a method which may be good for one set of pupils, may be worthless for another set; or, a method good for pupils in some circumstances, may not be good for the same pupils in different circumstances. Hence, the truth of a remark once made by a shrewd teacher: "Best methods! there are no best methods!"
It is wise to study methods, not for servile imitation, but for suggestion. It is frequently wise to adapt methods, but rarely or never to adopt them. It is true, however, that all good methods rest upon sound principles; these never change, but the methods founded upon them may vary indefinitely. It will not follow from this that every method is a good one which recognizes a correct principle. It is one of the soundest principles of pedagogy that no teacher can proceed profitably with his work till he has the attention of his class. But he would hardly be a wise teacher who would attempt to gain that attention by firing a pistol, or by standing on his head, although he would gain the attention in either case without doubt.
FOUR GRAND PRINCIPLES.---Before making any direct suggestions as to training the powers, let us state four fundamental truths of pedagogy.

• Any power under the control of the will may be cultivated or trained .
• The powers are trained in one way, and in one way only; viz, by WISE USE. This law of work is the one unchangeable law of progress everywhere .
• The wisest training will be directed to those powers that are conspicuously active at the time .
• An indispensable prerequisite to any profitable training is careful attention to the matter in hand .

And one who is not familiar with child-life has no business to attempt to teach children,--of all the text-books on pedagogy, the most valuable is a baby or a young child. He who neglects the loving study of this "living epistle" will never become very wise in a knowledge of the correct teaching and training of children, no matter what else he may study.

Right Order in Education.---Now, one who studies children, even a little, will soon observe that at first the Presentative powers seem to be active almost alone, so far as the intellect is concerned; seeing, hearing, feeling, and tasting are the child's occupations. Memory and Imagination soon follow, while Reasoning and Reflection are long delayed. This fact clearly shows what should be the field of effort in the teaching and training of young children; it should include---
Training in sense-perception,
Proper expression by words , and
Manual activity .
Instead of following such a course with young children as the above statement would indicate, how often the commands are, "Sit still," "Don't talk," "Study your book!" And in studying the book,--that dry, conventional, artificial thing,--the effort is not made to help the child to see correctly what is in the book, and to learn from it such things as his present state of development would allow him to grasp and appreciate, but to crowd his memory with such words as can have no meaning till he has learned to use his powers of reflection, abstraction, and reasoning.

Thus, the powers already active are neglected, that a vain, stupefying, deadening effort may be made in an appeal to powers that will remain comparatively dormant for years. Not seldom is he required to learn and to give logical forms of reasoning, as in "mental" arithmetic, while his mind is wholly in the perceptive and imaginative stages. It is as though the gardener, having beans and potatoes planted in his garden at the same time, should go out and hoe around where his potatoes will appear by-and-by, but neglect to pay any attention to his beans already above ground and in great danger of being choked by the weeds.
 
 
 

.---In the light of what has been said, the usefulness and the philosophic character of the "Kindergarten" will be very apparent. But, it would seem that the apparatus and the methods of the kindergarten are not available for the ordinary district school at present; and, perhaps, they will not be for a long time to come. The question is, Can the teacher of the ordinary district school, with only the ordinary appliances to be found there, do any thing to train young children in accordance with these truths and principles? We answer, "Yes, much every way."

The Sight

.--- There is no end to the ways in which a thoughtful teacher in such a school may help to train the sight of the pupil; but we can only suggest.
OUT-OF-DOORS.--Different kinds of vegetation are all about him. Train him to observe the different forms of leaves, grasses, and flowers. He will respond heartily and gladly to such an effort. You have but to hint that you want specimens, and they will be forthcoming in perplexing abundance. Is there any reason why children in the country should be ignorant of the different forms of foliage about them? Surely, they will take delight in noting the characteristic forms of the leaves of the maple, the oak, the elm, the apple, etc. Would not this be as useful, aside from the training of sense, as a good deal of what they are required to learn? Why not have them learn to note the forms of the different grasses, and the humbler plants, as well as the leaves of the grains and garden vegetables?
In connection with this study of the forms of foliage, many a weary hour may be beguiled in attempts to copy or to reproduce some of the forms on their slates.
And, the, what endless lessons in colors, their names, their combinations, etc., as shown in the flowers, or in bright colored yarns or bits of calico, or in samples that any teacher can make with the aniline dyes! And what a field for training children's eyes in observing the shapes and sizes and colors of the animal world all about them! Will they perform the dull, necessary drudgery of bookstudy less earnestly or efficiently for a few minutes spent in waking up the mind by some such exercise in seeing, and endeavoring to describe what they see by word or by pencil?

It is a custom in the famous Quincy schools to allow the pupils ten minutes each morning in telling what they observed on the way to school. Here, sight and language both are cultivated; and it should be remembered that training in the art of expression must be kept up through the whole of the school course.
The little pupil on his way to school, earnest to see something of interest to describe to a sympathetic teacher, will be a very different object from Shakespeare's "whining school-boy, with his satchel and shining morning face, creeping like a snail unwillingly to school."

IN THE SCHOOL-ROOM.--We have made some suggestions about training the sight to see things outside of the school-room. Let us now suggest some exercises for training the same sense in dealing with things in the school-room.
Pictures. -- Here, especially with quite young children, much may be done with pictures. And, happily, most of the text-books for little children are now filled with beautiful and instructive pictures.
Put before the class a picture of a farm-yard scene, for instance. Let each one point out the distinct objects that he sees in the picture. Get him to think about them, and to express his thoughts. Do not put words into his mouth, but encourage his own expression, however crude and imperfect it may be. Continue with the picture until it is exhausted; --until every object has been noticed. Commend him who can find the most things to see, and can say most about them, but do not do it in such a way as to discourage the slow and the awkward.
By such a process, not only is the eye trained, but an inexhaustible store of material is gathered for language lessons. And, with even very young children, some of the statements may be put in writing, thus teaching, in a natural way, penmanship, spelling, the structure of sentences, and some of the most obvious uses of punctuation.

One who never tried the experiment will be surprised to see how much more interest a child will take in a picture that he has been taught to see. Give a book full of beautiful and appropriate pictures into the hand of a little child without any guidance, and he will glance at them rapidly, one after another, and the book is a "squeezed orange" to him. Restrict him to one or two pictures at a time, teach him how to see them, and the same book will be an unfailing source of instruction and amusement for many days.

Children are often slow, blundering, and mechanical in their reading, simply because their eyes have never been taught to look ahead and to take in more words than the one they are trying to pronounce. One way to remedy this, is to have a stiff cardboard with a single sentence printed on it; or, better, a little hand black-board with a sentence written on it. Hold it for an instant before the class, then take it away and see who can pronounce the whole sentence.
Of course, these suggestions might be extended indefinitely; but the teacher who understands the true principles of his art, can multiply them indefinitely; and he will do so, when once his mind has awakened to their importance. The result aimed at is to make the sight quick, accurate, and comprehensive.
A SUGGESTED EXERCISE.-- Before leaving the subject of sight, we want to suggest another kind of exercise, which, if properly conducted, will give a three-fold result,--it will train the child's eye, it will give him useful information, and it will improve his language and increase his vocabulary.
Holding a book before the class, ask, "What have I?" This, to gain attention. Now, tell the children that you will hold it in two ways, and you want them to notice the two ways and to tell you about them. Hold the book horizontal, and let all notice the position, then hold it inclined, and let them observe. Ask how it was held the first time. The second time. You will get a variety of answers; but, probably, some one will say, "The first time it didn't tip, --the next time it tipped." Accept these answers for the present, and let the pupils hold books in the two ways. See that they do it accurately. Next tell them that you will give them a long word to tell how the book was the first time. Give the word "horizontal," --let it be carefully pronounced, and spelled both phonetically and by letter. Again, hold the book in the first way, and get the children to say, "The book is horizontal." Hold it the second way, and let them say, the book is not horizontal." Change this last statement, and substitute, "the book is inclined," or, "The book is oblique." Let the children point out horizontal surfaces and lines in the same room, taking care to have the same thing mentioned but once. Make horizontal and inclined lines on the board, and have them described. Let the pupils do the same. Let the pupils tell you of things they have seen outside the school-room that are horizontal. Here is matter enough suggested for several lessons; do not hurry; introduce much variety; give the pupils a good deal to do; do not let any lesson exceed ten minutes.
Take the word vertical, and treat it in a similar way; then the word parallel. Now give little exercises, such as, "Make three parallel, horizontal lines on the board;" three "parallel vertical lines," etc. Insist on having the work well done; lead the pupils to take pride in doing it well; let them describe their work in proper sentences.
The same general process may be followed in teaching a large number of geometric terms or forms, as angles of different kinds; triangles of different kinds; parallelogram, rectangle, square, sphere, cube, etc.
These are only suggestions,--the field is boundless.
Hearing.--Methods somewhat similar may be used for training the sense of Hearing, at school. Children might be allowed to report the sounds they hear, as well as the sights they see, on the way to school. Is it not as important that they should be able to recognize the calls and the songs of different birds, or the chirp of different insects, as it is to know the length of the Congo River, or the number of slain at the Battle of Bunker Hill?
Of course, successful hearing, as well as successful sight, depends primarily upon closeness of attention. But many teachers train their pupils not to attend to what they ought to hear. They do this by announcing lessons and issuing commands and requests over and over again, or by repeating questions in recitation, or by meaningless repetitions of answers given, as well as in many other ways.

Let the pupil once become thoroughly impressed that his teacher says nothing without a meaning,--that a clear statement once made will not be repeated, but that the school will be held responsible for hearing and observing it, and much will be done to quicken this sense.

As drawing should be called in to aid in training sight, so music should be used in training hearing. In this way, children may be taught to distinguish and to describe the pitch of tones, their varying length, and the different degrees of force, in connection with their little songs. Nor is the usefulness of such distinctions confined to singing, by any means. Correct pitch, and change of pitch at will, have as much to do with correct speaking or reading as with singing. The lifeless, monotonous reading of the dull, ill-taught pupil is often due to the fact either that his ear has not been trained to the distinctions of pitch and of power, or his organs have not been trained to produce those distinctions.
In connection with the training of the ear and the vocal organs, will come a study of inflections and slides of the voice, on which expression so largely depends.
In all his school work, the pupil should be trained to love and to make clear, pure tones. On this point, Dr. Lowell Mason used to insist with great earnestness in his lectures before teachers' institutes. All harshness of tone, screaming, and coarse, nasal utterance should be banished from the exercises of the school-room,--not encouraged, as they so often are, by the unwise teacher, whose constant admonition is, "Speak up loud." But such a teacher not only leads his pupils astray by his precepts; he generally does it by his example as well, in the loud, harsh, unnatural tones which he uses in the school-room. The teacher's voice should be perfectly natural, smooth, and clear, but not loud nor high-pitched.

We will omit any discussion respecting the training of the other senses, although we believe something interesting and useful is possible here.
 
 

CHAPTER VII.

TRAINING.---Continued.

Representative Powers

.---The Representative Powers, in the form of Memory and Imagination, awaken in the child almost as soon as the Perceptives. The child a few months old knows his mother's face from that of any other woman, which, of course, can be possible only as he remembers. In the years of childhood, from infancy to the age of twelve or fourteen, Memory is the characteristic faculty. It not only receives readily at this age, but it retains with astonishing tenacity. Let any one in advanced life compare the readiness with which he can recall what was committed to memory at this age with the difficulty he has in recalling what he has recently committed. This is the period, then, for "storing the mind." Memory is the faculty to be especially trained and exercised at this age.
In order to train the Memory, the child must be made responsible for its use. He must be held to remember what he is told in the way of command or direction; to remember it exactly, and to observe it accordingly. He must be held to remember the instruction given to him in oral form, as well as that gained from the book. So tenacious is Memory at this period that it easily seizes and retains mere words, although they make no appeal to the understanding. Here is the root of the most glaring evil in our school work, especially with careless and ill-trained teachers. Mere words are caught and repeated by the pupils; and they are glibly recited, giving an appearance of knowledge where none exists. Of course, this evil should be avoided, but the opposite extreme of requiring nothing to be committed in exact form is still worse.
Special exercises to train the memory are valuable; for instance, read a short, pithy sentence, and require the exact repetition of it, tell an interesting story, and have it reproduced exactly, the next day, etc. There is no need to give the child trash to commit, simply to train his memory. That power may be exercised on things worthy in themselves as well as in storing up nonsense. There is much in the child's lessons that should be committed exactly, such as definitions, tables, etc.

Many modern teachers are so impressed with the evil of committing simply the words of the text-book-- "mere memorizing"--that they have gone to the other extreme. Hence, in many schools, otherwise good, the Memory is neglected to such an extent that the pupils can not give what they know in exact language, nor have they power to fix exactly what they strive to remember.

Because of the facility with which mere words are retained at this time, it is not unphilosophical to require the pupil to commit to memory some useful things which he does not fully understand. The recent movement in favor of memorizing literary "gems" is worthy of all commendation. Nor need they be fully understood at present. Who can not recall something of this kind, dropped into his memory in his childhood, that afterwards became the most profitable subject of rumination?

It is a curious fact that certain defects sometimes become objects of personal vanity, such as a pale skin, defective eyesight requiring spectacles, etc. It is thought by silly young people to be fashionable, and an evidence of "high-tone," to have these defects. On this ground we account for the readiness with which many people declare that they are deficient in the power of memory. Certain it is that no one possesses a really good mind if his memory is very defective. When students have come to the author pleading complacently this defect as a reason for failing to retain their lessons, he has sometimes effectually cut off a repetition of the excuse by fully accepting it, suggesting perhaps that he had long suspected that their minds were not quite sound!

Imagination

.-- During the early years of a child's life, no power is more active that Imagination. As Dr. Rosenkranz says: "The child turns his perceptions into conceptions, and plays with them." He bestrides a stick, and it becomes a prancing horse; he ties together three or four chairs, and they are a train of cars. The little girl collects a few broken bits of crockery, and they are a China tea-set; she ties up a bundle of rags, and it is a baby. Two or three children come together, and they must "play bear," or "play horse," or "play school," etc. In the child's vocabulary, "play" means to exercise the Imagination.
Now, shall we, like some unwise parents and teachers, reprove children for these things, and exhort them to be sensible? We may be sure that nature makes no mistake in this, any more than in other exhibitions of child-life.
By entering into, and sympathizing with, the child's ideal life, the teacher or parent may do much, not only for the child's amusement, but he also may make this a valuable means of instruction and training; besides, in this way, he may learn more of the child's inner nature than in almost any other, and do much to establish those bonds of feeling between the child and himself,--so necessary to his highest success as the child's guide and instructor.

That prince of writers for children, and for instructors of children, Dr. Jacob Abbott, in his admirable work, "Gentle Measures in the Management of the Young," has an excellent chapter on the Imagination, which every mother and teacher ought carefully to study. On pages 108 and 114 of the same book will be found very interesting illustrations of the way in which the same faculty may be used in the moral and practical training of children.

Education has for its aim to lead the child up to true freedom,-- to a free and right use of his own self-determination, --to such a wise use of his will as shall control circumstances to his own advantage. In the early use of his imagination is found a most important training in this respect. Here, he is at liberty to arrange and apply things he chooses, untrammeled by the conditions of stern reality. This freedom of will constitutes the principle charm of such "play." Here, doubtless, we find an explanation for curious facts which every careful observer of children must have noticed.

If a little girl has several dolls,--a fine China one, an ordinarily good one, and a poor, dirty, mutilated "rag baby,"--she will probably prize the last most highly of all. The reason is, that she can do whatever she pleases with this one. If a boy has a present of a jumping-jack and a ball, he will at first be much more interested in the funny toy. But soon his interest in the jumping-jack will die out, while the ball will grow more precious every day.

But the highest use of Imagination, for child or man, is found in the fact that it alone gives an ideal of excellence in what one is to do or to be; without such an ideal, progress is hardly conceivable.
The Reflective Powers.--We will spend little time in speaking of the Reflective Powers, Reasoning, etc.; not because these are not important, but because early youth is no time to attempt an extensive training in these powers. To be sure, even a little child has some tendency and ability to draw inferences, to study the relations of cause and effect, and such efforts may be encouraged and directed to a limited extent. But a common mistake is to endeavor to train the reflective power before its time, and to neglect other powers that are in a stage of development which calls for the teacher's best efforts.
The Sensibility.--Passing to the training of the Sensibility, we say that the teacher's success or failure in the most valuable part of his work will be largely determined by his power or weakness in this field. It is through the Sensibility that motives to action are furnished, and character is formed. Even the highest intellectual success is impossible, unless the Emotions are enlisted in behalf of the work attempted. No child is likely to make much progress in a study which he thoroughly dislikes, especially if he dislike his teacher at the same time. Even the mature man finds his intellect will work with redoubled power and success when the glow of emotion accompanies its action.
LOVE.--The child's love for good things, for his fellows, and for his teacher, must be carefully trained and strengthened. Here is a worthy field for the power of the teacher with the wisest head and noblest heart. But it is no place for pretense or sham; all work here must be genuine. If you wish to awaken the child's love for yourself, expect it only in return for genuine love for him. Stage smiles and honeyed words, with no heart back of them, will no serve. It is easier to deceive a grown person than a child in this respect. In the old poem, the child says:
"I do not love thee, Doctor Fell;
The reason why I cannot tell."
No doubt, there was a good reason which the child felt, although she could not tell it. And we suspect that an equally good reason generally exists for the child's personal likes and dislikes.
But, perhaps, some teacher is ready to say, "Well, it is of no use; I never did love children, and I can not,--at least, I can not love uninteresting and disagreeable children." Then, we say, you ought to do one of two things: either set about acquiring this power at once, or forever forego any attempt to teach children. One of the surest ways to develop a love for any person or thing is to make that person or thing the object of your special care, interest, and effort. If persistence in such a course will not beget a love for its object, we think the case is hopeless.
HATE.--But the child's capacity to hate or dislike needs special attention, as well as its opposite. We remember with what earnestness and effect an old associate of ours used to say to his pupils: "Boys, hate mean things." That they have not been trained to hate mean things is the trouble of to-day with too many of our boys, and girls as well. But the child should be carefully shown that the hatred of mean things must not be allowed to pass over into a hatred of the persons who do them. We fear it will often be found that many who declaim loudly against wrong, after all feel more bitter toward those who do the wrong than they do towards the wrong done. The child should be taught that hatred towards persons is never right.
APPETITES AND DESIRES.--Little ever needs to be done to strengthen the appetites and desires of the child. But no part of his education needs more earnest care than that by which he gains the power to regulate them. And here the skillful teacher can do much, in ways that love and tact will indicate, to train the pupil so that his appetites and desires and desires may be used to minister to his well-being and to his innocent gratification, instead of leading him down to the level of the brute, or below it.
ADMIRATION.--The child's power of admiration, and his tendency to admire, demand careful attention. Owing to the activity of imagination in children, the persons that seem to them admirable are esteemed to be perfect. Children are born hero-worshippers. And the things that they admire are likely to be thought "altogether lovely." There is a psychological reason why, in the vocabulary of young persons, "splendid" and "horrid" exhaust the list of descriptive adjectives so often. Now, because admiration always contains the element of approval, it is easy to see that one's character is likely to be indicated by the persons and things he admires; not only is his present character indicated in this way, but his future character is largely determined as well. In the admiration that boys conceive for the characters depicted in the robbers and Indian killers of the wretched "dime" literature of the day, lies the chief danger of the poisonous stuff. And the young girl's admiration of the vain, vapid character of the heroine in the trashy novel she reads, is likely to work lasting injury to her, for the same reason. There is little danger threatening the character of any young person whose admiration is thoroughly fixed on such things only as are "pure, honest, lovely, and of good report."
REVERENCE.--There is special need in this country, and in this age, that the Reverence of children should be trained. In the abounding life and freedom of this new country, we seem to forget, to a great extent, that there is any thing to be treated with reverence and respect. And it is a serious question whether this tendency is not on the increase. Much of the flippant nonsense in our newspapers that passes for wit would lose all its point if the irreverence were taken out of it. And the children and youth are not slow to imitate the example of their elders. The "old man," or the "governor," is the boy's frequent appellation for his father, nor does the "old woman" signify the mother much less frequently. Similar disrespectful terms are ready to apply to men and women who, by age, or character, or position, should be treated with special respect.
The reverent attitude of mind or speech, toward God or man, seems to be very unpopular just now. This fact does not augur well for the future, and the best efforts of our schools should be turned to its correction.

We remember when our teacher, in the old country school in New England, used to teach us to meet her with a respectful "good morning," and to leave her with a gentle "good night." She also taught us to stand by the road-side and lift our hats when we met travelers. It is possible we might return to some old-fashioned ways with profit. It is often said that we must put into our schools whatever we desire to have in the thinking and in the behavior of our people. Is this not true? And if this is so, must we not look to our schools to train their pupils in reverence and respect if we would see less of the roughness, vulgarity, and rowdyism that now disgrace us as a people, and make thoughtful men fear for the future?
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER VIII.

TRAINING.---Concluded .

WE will close our discussion of the training of the child's powers by saying something about the training of the Conscience, the Will, and the powers of Attention and Conception. Let the reader first turn back to Chapter IV, and study carefully the definitions of these powers.
The Conscience.--Conscience makes us feel that we ought to do what we think is right, and to let alone what we think is wrong. How shall this feeling be cultivated and made stronger? In the same way as every other power is cultivated and strengthened,-- by use. Every time that the voice of conscience is heard and heeded, it gains strength to speak with more clearness the next time. Every time it is disregarded, it is shorn of some of its power; this may be continued until conscience will sleep quietly while one does things that would once have caused the keenest anguish. Thus, conscience becomes "seared as with a hot iron." It withers and decays like an unused muscle. And yet, sometimes, after a long slumber, it wakes up with a fearful power, and stings like a scorpion---this is remorse.
Let the parent and teacher make frequent appeals to the child's conscience,--press upon him the word ought in all the fullness of its meaning. If there is any doubt as to whether one ought, or ought not, to do a certain thing, the only safe way is to give conscience "the benefit of the doubt." No child is too young for such an appeal, for conscience begins its work almost as soon as the earliest perceptive powers. "Is it right?" "Then ought you to do it?" These are questions that the youngest will appreciate, and it is sad that such questions so often give place to mere appeals to expediency, or self-interest, or pride. In view of this fact, it is not strange that so few grown persons are able to stand boldly for what they believe to be right, even if they have to stand alone. How can the moral fiber be otherwise than flabby if it has never been strengthened?

There has been much discussion of the question, whether it is always right to follow conscience. The case seems to be a very plain one. We can not conceive that one could be justified in violating his conscience,--in doing what he believes to be wrong. And yet it must be granted that, owing to a wrong judgment, conscience may prompt to an act wrong it itself. Where, then, is the responsibility? Can one be blamed for doing such an act? Surely, he can not be blamed for following his conscience; but if his wrong judgment is due to any fault of his, then he is to be blamed for thinking that wrong is right.

Moral Training.--If morality is any thing more than refined self-interest, then the cultivation of conscience must lie at the basis of all right moral training. The psychological elements of morality are four in number, viz.: the intuitive idea, that there is such a thing as right; the judgment, which determines whether any particular thing is right; conscience, that moves us towards the right; and the will, that chooses or refuses the right. All true moral training must have regard to all these; it must recognize the underlying idea; it must train the judgment; it must appeal to conscience; and it must lead the will to the proper choice.
That such moral training should receive much attention is school can not be question; character is more than intellectual power or acquisition. That such training is too much neglected is lamentably true. But, perhaps, it is not very easy to tell how such training should be given. We may say, negatively, that merely reading books on morals, even the Bible itself, will not give it; nor will the teaching of a religious creed, even the soundest; nor will a discussion of moral questions, nor long lectures on morals, nor any amount of namby-pamby, goodish exhortation. It must be genuine training as the term has already been defined. Generally, such training will not follow any set lessons in morals. It must be brought about by putting conscience into all that is done; and the teacher who would succeed in doing this with his pupils must be a living example before their eyes.

Moral lessons may be drawn incidentally from the lessons in reading or history; sometimes, a story may be told, or any case supposed, for which a moral lesson may be taught effectively. Gow's "Good Morals and Gentle Manners" is a book that may be of much service to the teacher in such work.

Let specific lessons be given, not according to the programme, but as occasion for them arises. Has the teacher discovered that his boys play marbles for "keeps?" Here is a call for such a lesson. Let him take the winner, at some quiet and convenient time, and ply him with questions something like the following, after the manner of old Socrates: Whose are those fine marbles? Whose were they? Did John care anything for them? What did you give him for them? What made you play with him for them? Was not the reason because you wanted to get what John owned and cared for, without giving him anything of value for it? Is this the reason why gamblers play their games? Is it the thing that makes men steal? That makes them cheat? That makes them commit murder sometimes? How much dishonesty would there be in the world if no one ever had such a wish as this? Then, can this be right?
We think such an appeal, if skillfully and kindly made, could hardly fail to convince the judgment and to move the conscience. In a similar way, other principles of morality should be treated, as occasion calls for the treatment.

The Will

.--A man with a weak will is a pitiable object. It is the will that gives one his moving force; that makes him a power rather than a mere helpless thing. One who lacks will power is like a log floating at the mercy of the current; while one with a strong will is like a steamboat, that can not only stem the current, but can make headway against it. There is no danger that one will have too much will, if only it is joined with right motives and sound judgment. The man of strong will is not necessarily willful in the bad use of the word. A man of strong will need not be mulish.
There has been much discussion of the question whether a child's "will should be broken?" The answer turns wholly upon what is meant by "breaking" the will. If by this is meant simply that the child must be taught to bend his will to rightful authority, then it is one of the first lessons to be learned; it is an act of the greatest kindness to the child to break his will in this sense. But if, by breaking the will, we mean to destroy its power, or to diminish it, then it is a heinous crime to do it. Fir, one with his will broken, in this sense, is like a watch with the mainspring broken. Instead of this, special effort should be made to strengthen the child's will power. Use all reasonable means to lead him to cease saying "I can't," and to cultivate the habit of saying "I can" and "I will." Of course, he should be taught to judge rightly as to whether a thing ought to be done before he says, "I will do it." Even kindly ridicule or gentle sarcasm may be used with good effect here, and sometimes resort may well be had to something a little more vigorous.

We remember when a certain teacher sent a young woman to the blackboard, and she, after a feeble effort, whimpered out, "I don't think I can do it." "You can," thundered the teacher, with a stamp of his foot. She hastily snatched a tear from the corner of each eye, and did the work. We believe that discipline was a "means of grace" to that young woman.

But, in addition to direct efforts to strengthen the child's will, we want to say very earnestly that neither parents nor teacher should thwart his will, except with good reason. Many a will has been weakened, if not wholly destroyed, because his teacher or parent, thoughtlessly or wantonly, has trampled on his wishes and desires and purposes until sullenness or despair has resulted.

Attention

must accompany every successful mental effort. There are two ways in which the man may be led to give attention: one is by attracting it, so that he attends without effort; the other, by inducing him to attend through sheer force of his will power. The attention of the child can be gained in the first way only. It can be attracted and held for a short time only; but this will is not strong enough to enable him to attend against his inclination, nor after he has become weary. And yet he must attend, if he is to do any thing to any purpose. Nor can his attention be secured by frequent calls for attention, nor even by authority. It must be attracted at first, and its object must be changed frequently. It is a gradual process, by which he gets the power to command his attention, and this power must be gained by a judicious course of training.
To secure this training, let the teacher be careful to make no statement to the child, make no explanation, lay not command, etc., until he knows in his own mind, with perfect clearness, what he means to say; then let him say it slowly, clearly, in a few words, and say it but once. Then let him insist rigidly that what is thus given shall be remembered and observed.
Let the teacher form the habit of never speaking to his school, his class, or to a single pupil, until he has complete attention, and let him stop speaking the instant attention wanders. In this way, every thing that is done is school will be an exercise in training the attention; but, occasionally, special exercises for this purpose alone may be introduced. Let the teacher recite a sentence, to be repeated exactly; let him give directions for certain movements to be made, and then require an exact performance, etc. By such processes, and others that a thoughtful and ingenious teacher will discover, the child is trained until his attention will obey his will promptly, fully, and successfully. When this is done, he is on the high road to the attainment of both knowledge and power.
Conception.--A bright mind is one whose Conceptive Power is clear and strong. Dullness results from lack of this power. "Parrot" recitations are of words without the accompanying conceptions. Mechanical reading is calling over words, in this way, from a book. Mechanical, meaningless mathematical work is the blind following of rules while the conceptive power is asleep. Much of our school work, we are sorry to say, is performed in such a way as to put this power to sleep; and the more we work with tongue, or pen, or hand while conception sleeps, the more soundly it will sleep while we thus work. This is the process by which many little children, who entered school bright, keen, and inquisitive, are made dull and stupid after going a few months. We believe comparatively few teachers understand the relative importance of this power, or how to arouse and train it.
A really "lively" school exercise of any kind is not to be measured by the noise made, nor by the amount of manual activity, but by the fullness and clearness of the conceptive power used. No reading by older or younger pupils will be correct, --except, perhaps, with the correctness of mechanical imitation,--until conception gives life to the words spoken. No geography lesson is worth any thing that does not fill the mind with correct and lively pictures. No mathematical work is any thing but a mechanical "grind" till the pupil "sees" the relation of the parts with his "mind's eye."
Imagination, as we have already defined the term, is the exercise of the conceptive power in one of its forms; hence, the pedagogic value of a judicious use of the imagination. But the conceptive power has its part to play in understanding and reasoning, as well as in memory and imagination. All our school work, from the lowest grade to the highest, should recognize this fact, and the true use of the power of conception should be observed in every school exercise.

We have been able to give only a few hints in regard to the training of the powers, but the thoughtful teacher will readily see that this training in his great work--it alone treats the mind like a living organism; while a mere acquiring of knowledge, a storing of the memory, treats it like a dead receptacle.

-----------------------------------
1. Physical

• KINDS OF EDUCATION, ............ 2. Intellectual
• 3. Moral.
• 4. Spiritual?

Education certain

.-- Before turning to another subject, we wish to say that an education of some kind is inevitable--we must be educated. "Education is cultured growth,"--if the child lives, his powers will grow, and their growth will be modified by the influences that surround him. Hence, there is no escape from education but by death or insanity. So, the choice is not between a good education and no education, but between a good education and a bad one. If the child's growing powers are not trained as they should be at home, at school, at church, etc., they will be sure to be trained as they should not be, elsewhere. Not all our schools are in school-houses, under teachers licensed by the superintendents and paid by public funds. There are schools in the streets, on dry goods boxes, in saloons, and in worse places. They are well supplied with teachers; they have no vacations; and they send their graduates out by swarms. Some of these graduates tax the state much more heavily to pay for courts, and prisons, and poor houses than they would to have provided them with the best possible education at the public expense.

Any thoughtful person who walks the crowded streets, in the more degraded portions of our large cities, must have some very important questions thrust upon him. As he observes the swarming multitudes of little children, unclean and unkempt, too young to attend the public schools, he must ask himself if it would not be cheaper to care for these unfortunates while they are children than to attempt to restrain and punish them when they are fully developed into the hardened criminals that so many of them are sure to become. Would it not cost less money to make the attempt to form them rightly than it will to reform them, or to punish them when they have received the education that all their present surroundings tend to give them?
Acting on this thought, one of the wisest schemes of modern private philanthropy is the establishment of kindergartens for these neglected waifs. But would it not be wise economy for the public to bear the expense of kindergartens for this purpose from the public funds? This question demands public attention and discussion. We have no doubt about the true answer.

The resources of a state are not confined to its mineral wealth, its fertile soil, its navigable waters, etc. The mental and moral power of its rising generation outweighs them all; if educated and directed rightly, it will do more to advance the state in every kind of prosperity, material wealth included. But, if badly educated, it is not simply so much power and wealth lost, but it becomes a negative quantity,--a power for evil and waste. If this is true, it is hard to see why the state is not bound to spend all necessary sums for any and all appliances which shall tend to educate the powers of its youth rightly; quite as much, to say the least, as it is bound to foster mining, agriculture, commerce, and other things that tend directly to develop its material resources.

Here is the strongest argument for high schools and colleges which shall offer the fullest education of all, at the public cost. Among the lowly and the poor is to be found, in the germ, some of the best directive ability in the state. The state can not afford to lose this ability simply because private purses can not provide the means for its development. The richest products of any state, estimated even on a pecuniary basis alone, are its best men and women. It is time that we had done with that narrow view which sees it public education only the means of fitting the young for some imaginary "sphere," or the mere preparing of the future citizen to cast his ballot with out danger to the commonwealth.
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER IX.

THE TEACHER.
 

THE most important factor in any school, or system of education, is the teacher who directs its daily operations. If he be able, well-trained, and efficient, good results may be confidently expected, even though much be wanting. But, if the teacher be seriously deficient, nothing can supply the lack. People seem to forget this truth sometimes, and to think that if the buildings be grand and good, if the apparatus be abundant, if the system be the best, the result may be satisfactory, let the teacher be what he may. A moment's reflection ought to show the unwisdom of any such expectation.

His motives

.--Let us, then, consider some of the things belonging to a good teacher. And we will begin by asking, What are proper motives to prompt him to take up this work? We will mention three: a desire to do good, a love for the work, and money.
A DESIRE TO DO GOOD.--One who has no desire to do good, who cares not whether he does any thing to the benefit of the world, is not likely to be worth much in any calling; certainly he is not fit to teach the young. One who does faithfully any work that the world needs does good and deserves honor. But there are few occupations in which one can do more to bless his fellows than in wisely developing and training the powers of the rising generation. And if one believes himself able to do such work successfully, the wish to serve the world is this way is a noble motive to prompt him to undertake the work.
LOVE FOR THE WORK.--One will do any work better if he loves to do it; but there are some kinds of coarse, physical labor, like digging ditches, etc., that we suppose one might do well even if he disliked them. This is not true of the higher kinds of work, and certainly it is not true of teaching. We do not mean, of course, that a teacher must love every thing connected with his work. All work has drudgery, and teaching is no exception. But the teacher should have such a genuine love for his work as a whole that it will enable him to bear the drudgery, and to do it faithfully, without being enslaved by it.
PAY.--We shall find people who are ready to declare that the two motives named are enough, and that it is degrading to let the thought of money have any weight. On the other hand, we shall find those who sneer at these motives, and avow boldly that they care nothing for ideals or sentiment,--they are practical, and money is the only motive that should have any weight. Now, the truth is with neither extreme. We should cherish our ideals, if they are noble; in no other way can we avoid falling into sordidness. But there are good and honorable reasons why a teacher may regard his pecuniary compensation as a proper motive, and insist that it shall be reasonable in amount.
First .--The teacher has wants which he can not honestly supply, as a general thing, unless he receive money for his work. Few can afford to work for nothing, even if so disposed.
Second .--Justice requires that he should receive pay for his work: the world is so constituted that those who give ought to receive.
Third .--People do not prize highly that which costs them nothing. Even our bountiful Creator has arranged it so that his gifts mostly come in response to our efforts. If the farmer expect a crop, he must toil for it. If the student desire knowledge and culture, he must put forth his efforts, or his desires are futile. Sunlight, air, and in some places, water are about the only gifts bestowed upon us without some sort of expenditure on our part. And it is better so; it is more truly charitable to help the pauper to help himself than it is to bestow a gift upon him. It is neither ju>

Transfert interrompu !

Preparation

.--One of the most disheartening things connected with our public schools is the lack of fitness on the part of the teachers. A large proportion of them--perhaps a majority--have made less preparation for their delicate and difficult work than they would have made for the most ordinary trade. And this state of things exists because the community permit it to exist. Men will not take a piece of old harness, to be mended, to any one who has not learned the harness-maker's trade, nor order a pair of shoes made except by a skilled workman. Yet, these same men will send their children to be taught by some green boy or girl who has never spent one half-hour in special preparation for the work. This is a mystery that can be explained only by supposing that such people do not realize the fact that preparation for teaching needs to be made and can be made.

Teachers sometimes judge parents very unjustly. We have heard it said that parents must love their calves better than they love their children, for they will visit their calves every day, but they will not go to the school where their children are taught during a whole term. This is fallacious; the parent does not regard it so needful to visit the school as it is to care for his calves. Nor does he see how necessary it is for the teacher to be prepared for his work, else he would insist upon it. It may be safely assumed that almost all parents--even the ignorant and vicious--desire the best things for their children, but often they do not know what the best things are.

Of course, we are now speaking of the preparation for the teacher's work, which should be made before taking charge of a school. It often happens that, if one has some native gift for teaching, he may enter upon his work without any preparation; and yet, at the end of a few terms spent in the school-room, he may be found a skilled workman. Probably he might acquire the kill of a blacksmith in a similar way; but the waste of iron and coal that would attend his apprentice efforts would be a sufficient barrier in that case. What a pity that the waste of a child's powers and time can not be estimated as easily as the waste of minerals! Every one has heard of the reply of the celebrated French oculist, when some one complimented his skill in operating on the eye: "Yes," said he, "I may have some skill now, but I spoiled a hateful of eyes in learning."

Normal schools are intended specially for the preparing of teachers for their business; and this should be their sole purpose,--academic work, as such, is foreign to their true aim. There can be no question, other things being equal, that any one will make a better teacher by attending even a tolerably good Normal school. Still, it does not follow that such a school is the only place where the preparation can be made. Multitudes of excellent teachers have never attended a Normal school. Nor can the best Normal school make a first-rate teacher out of every one who enters it. But what we assert, most earnestly and confidently, is that, somewhere and somehow, by thought, reading, instruction, observation, or all combined, the teacher should be required to make reasonable preparation for his work before he is permitted to enter upon it.

WHAT PREPARATION?--There are three distinct fields in which preparation should be made.
First .--The candidate for the teacher's office should become well acquainted with the nature of children. He should understand their physical nature, it laws, needs, and possibilities. He should understand the laws of mind, both in its action and in its growth. He should understand the springs and movements of the human being which result in a good moral character or its opposite. In short, he should become versed in a knowledge of what we call "human nature" in it broadest sense. But, besides a general knowledge of human nature, he needs to be specially acquainted with that complicated and mysterious thing in its plastic, formative, and growing stages, for it is the material on which he is to work. What would be said for the tailor ignorant of the nature and qualities of cloth? or of the nursery-man knowing nothing of the nature of plants or the mysteries of plant-life? We require even of a sewing girl that she should know something of the structure and operation of the machine she uses.
Second. --He should be well acquainted with the branches of knowledge that he is to teach. And here we must note that the teacher's knowledge of subjects ought to be of a special kind,--it must extend to underlying principles. One may know how to read very well, and still be ignorant of the principles on which good reading depends. One may be able to make all the computations necessary in the counting room, and have a "plentiful lack" of knowledge of the principles of arithmetic,--so similar remarks may be made about all the studies of the school; all need to be acquired by the teacher in a way quite different from that which is necessary simply for practical use. We assert that a teacher's knowledge should be of a special quality, whether its quantity be more or less; but, of course, in quantity it should much exceed what he is likely to be called upon to impart.
Third. --He should be prepared both in the principles and the methods of imparting knowledge, and in the principles and methods of governing and managing children no less. Unchanging and unchangeable principles underlie all correct teaching and management. These principles can be investigated and acquired; and a knowledge of them, when arranged systematically, constitutes the science of instruction. All good methods rest upon and are shaped by these principles. Methods, or rather modes, may vary indefinitely, while the underlying principles are the same. But the teacher should make a careful study of methods, that he may avoid bad ones, and that he may be ready to adapt or to devise good ones for the several cases that will arise in his experience.

It will be seen at once that, while the candidate for teaching should be well prepared in these three distinct fields, the ordinary examinations for license to teach have regard only to the second, and in that even they are often very far from searching. It is not so easy to test the candidate's knowledge in the other two; but some tests could be applied, and they would be applied if the community demanded it. The truth is, however, that instead of making such a demand, the community are more likely to find fault if the examiner is rigid and exacting in the one third that he does attempt.

Progress

.--But the teacher's preparation must not stop with getting ready for his school; it should continue until the last day that he comes before pupils as their teacher.
DAILY.--We assert, as an unquestionable truth, that he should make a daily preparation for every class that he is to teach. No matter how familiar the subject, he should bring it before his mind in order that he may be fresh upon it, that he may have its inherent difficulties clearly in mind, and that he may adapt his teaching of it to be personal peculiarities of the particular Johns and Susans that compose his present class. Furthermore, he should not be content always to present the subject in the same way, nor to confine himself to the same plan of removing difficulties. He should seek new and attractive ways of presenting the most familiar subjects, and this for his own sake no less than for his pupils'. In no other way can he keep out of "ruts," or keep up his own interest in what he is doing, and thus avoid that humdrum monotony which is a special bane of the teacher's work.
FOR HIGHER RANK. --Once more, besides his daily preparation for his class-work, he should make daily preparation for higher professional rank. It may be so in many other things, but certainly in the teacher's work there is no standing still, --not to go forward is to go back.

Some years ago, Mr. P., of Massachusetts, told this story of his experience as an examiner of teachers. One day, after examining a candidate, he told him that he must refuse him a certificate. "Well," said the man, "I think that is strange; I taught school five years ago in this very town, and you, Mr. P., gave me my license. I think it is a pity if I don't know as much as I did five years ago." Said Mr. P., "I think you do know as much as you did then, but no more, and that is a sufficient reason for refusing you a license." Was not Mr. P. Right?

This preparation for higher professional rank should be of a three-fold nature:
First .--The teacher should constantly push forward in the subjects he is called upon to teach. Who can gather in all knowledge on such familiar subjects as Geography and History, to say nothing of the higher walks of Literature, Science, and Mathematics?
Second .--He should select some department of knowledge not particularly connected with his school-room work, and become a faithful and constant student in that direction. Let him consult his own taste in this matter; the range of subjects is unlimited,--Philosophy, Literature, Art, History, Natural Science, Theology, etc., all open inviting doors to those whose tastes lead the way. It is important that the teacher study in the way proposed, not simply to broaden his knowledge, to keep his manhood from being smothered in the schoolmaster, but because he can not in any other way keep himself in the true attitude of a learner. And one who is not in the attitude of a learner is unfit to lead others into that attitude, or to direct their work should they chance to be found in such an attitude.
Third.-- He ought to keep up constant professional work by reading professional literature, books and periodicals, and by attending and taking part in professional meetings. The literature of Pedagogics is very considerable and very respectable; and it is growing every day, both in quantity and character. And yet how many teachers are there who never read a book on teaching? Perhaps they do not with to do so; we fear some would prefer a dime novel. And how many take no teachers' periodical? Still, those very persons are perhaps the most clamorous to be counted members of a "profession!" What should we say of a physician who reads no books, and took no periodical treating of medicine? What should we say of a lawyer who did not know any thing of Blackstone? But are not some members of the teachers' "profession" perfectly ignorant of any knowledge of Pestalozzi?

Complaint is often made that society does not give teachers the rank and the consideration to which their office should entitle them. No doubt this is true of some communities and of some teachers; but, when one observes the lack of culture, of earnestness, and of true professional spirit so common to a large number of those who teach, he cannot avoid the conclusion that, on the average, teachers are appreciated as highly as they deserve.
"The fault . . . is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings."

Further, the teacher should not only read professionally, but he should write professionally for teachers' periodicals or the common newspaper. The editor of almost any paper will be glad to open his columns to well written articles on education. We have more than hinted that the community need instruction on educational themes; who should instruct them, if not the teacher? And the readiest medium for the instruction of the community is the newspaper.
Nor can he afford to absent himself from the gatherings of his fellow-teachers,--in the Institute, or the County, State, or National Association. He needs to do this that he may gain the quickening that comes from social intercourse with those engaged in like pursuits, as well as to become acquainted with the general drift of educational discussion.
But here, of course, we shall be met by the school-keeper, who says, "It costs money to buy books and periodicals, to travel to distant places, and to pay hotel bills. My salary is small; I can not afford it." Deluded pedagogue, you can not "afford" not to do it! Money invested in this way will pay you better in money than if loaned on bond and mortgage. You look longingly at the places filled by your fellow teachers who get good salaries. Let us all tell you that we are pointing out one of the surest roads to those very places. We have known a great many young teachers who have risen from your position to such places, and we think every one spent money out of his meager salary in the very ways we are commending, although he could not "afford" it. But it brought returns at an excellent rate of interest. As well might the carpenter say, "I must exhaust my strength with this dull, old, worthless plane; I can not "afford" to pay money for a better one;" or the farmer say, "I can not 'afford' to pay money for seed corn."

It is true, however, that in some country districts a studious teacher loses, at least temporarily, the confidence of the people. They are possessed with the notion that the teacher's business is simply to impart information, and that if he be prepared for his work he must have acquired all the information he needs to impart. Hence, any effort of his in the way of study appears to them to be an exhibition of weakness. Such foolish notions will disappear as people come to have more correct views of the work of teaching.

We have urged that the teacher should always be an active student in order that he may be, and continue to be, a useful and efficient teacher. This is by no means al, however. In no other way can he save himself from becoming a juiceless "pedagogue," such as our great novelists have sometimes ridiculed. Furthermore, it is very apparent that intellectual activity tends to prolong life. A very large number of the world's best thinkers have retained their full powers to a very advanced age, and there is good reason to believe that their advanced age was largely due to their intellectual activity. Hence, it is for the teacher's highest personal interest never to relax his efforts as an earnest student.
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER X.

THE TEACHER.--Continued .

THE old proverb, "As is the teacher, so is the school," is generally true. The school is what the teacher makes is,--it is largely a reflection of himself. If he is prompt, accurate, and thorough,--or if he is slovenly, turbulent, or untruthful,--the school will probably take on the same character, to a great degree. For good or evil, the teacher is reproducing himself in his pupils. And, as many of his pupils will become teachers in due time, his influence is constantly widening. The author well remembers that in his first school he scarcely undertook any thing in the way of teaching or discipline without imagining how a former teacher of his would do were he is his place,--the image of that man was constantly before his mind.
It is of the greatest importance that the teacher should be worthy of imitation in all respects. But the faults of a teacher who is generally good and strong are likely to do more harm than the faults of a weaker teacher, for he makes a deeper impression on his pupils; and, in their efforts to imitate him, they are quite as likely to seize on his weak point for copying as his strong ones. Perhaps they are more likely to do so,--for crude minds seem inclined to believe that they are like some great man when they have caught one of his tricks or mannerisms. I think some young men may have fancied that they were like Horace Greeley because of their poor handwriting.
Of course, it follows that the teacher's responsibility is very great. He should realize this fact, and it should make him thoughtful, faithful, and diligent. But he should not allow it to weigh him down. He should do his best, and then leave it; it is of no use to worry about results. In one of her last addresses to her pupils, Mary Lyon uttered the famous saying, "There is only one thing in the universe that I fear,--either that I shall not know my duty, or shall not have the strength to do it." There is nothing else that any one ever ought to fear.

Aptitude

.--The old Latin proverb says, "Poeta nascitur non fit, "--the poet is born, not made. To a certain extent, the same thing is true of teachers. Probably any one of ordinary capacity will be able to teach respectably by due preparation and diligence; but no one will be likely to reach a high place in the ranks of teachers if he has not some special gift for teaching. And native ability for teaching is not the same thing as native ability in general. Some persons most highly endowed with ability for scholarship succeed very poorly as teachers; on the other hand, some excellent teachers whose general ability is not marked.

Every teacher in a Normal school will discover that his brightest pupils are not sure to make the best teachers. What is the true course for one who finds, on attempting to teach, that he has gifts in that direction? Sometimes persons seem to think that because the are thus gifted they may trust wholly to their gifts, and dispense with careful preparation. The true course is just the opposite of this: gifts specially adapted to any work indicate the propriety of special preparation for that work,--a principle laid down in out discussion of special education.

Health

,--The mind can act, or be acted upon, only through the body. Hence, the importance of a healthy body to a mind-worker. The notion that feeble, sickly people, who can not stand the strain of physical labor, are proper persons to teach school is very unreasonable. Some persons know, from trying both, that it is much easier to plow than to teach school when one has the headache. Besides, there are few occupations more filled with petty annoyances than teaching; the teacher can hardly meet them properly if he is in ill-health. Further, the weakness and irritability attending illness are likely to cause him to provoke new annoyances, where good health would have enabled him to overcome such as naturally arise. Of all men, the teacher needs a clear head and a cheerful heart; and these are hardly possible to one who has a diseased body.
HOW TO PRESERVE HEALTH. --If the teacher's health is reasonably good, how is he to keep it so? We will venture to offer a few common-sense suggestions, not as a physician, but as a person who has learned something from observation and experience; and the suggestions we offer to the teacher are quite as important for the pupil. We will first mention two of the ways "How not to do it."
First.-- Do not expect to keep your health by a constant thinking about it. Do not keep up a continual study to see if you can not detect some symptoms of disease in yourself. Believe yourself well, if you are not obliged to believe otherwise. Give thought enough to the subject to take reasonable care of yourself, but no more.
Second.-- Put far off the notion that you can abuse your body, and then make it as good as it was before by taking medicine. Not a few people destroy their health by frequent dosing. You may have heard of the epitaph:

"I was well, and wished to be better,
Took physic, and here I am."

We fear it would be appropriate for more tombstones than have ever borne it. Medicine is doubtless necessary at times, but only as a dire alternative. Nor do we believe medicine will ever make one "as good as new."
GOOD AIR.--We need not stop to prove that good air is absolutely essential to good health. We should spend a reasonable amount of time in the open air; and we need pure air in our work-rooms, and especially in our sleeping-rooms. Few of our school-rooms have any proper provision for securing good air; and the air become vitiated so gradually that we are very likely not to know that we are suffering from it if we do not oblige ourselves to stop and think about it. But what shall we do about it? To drop window from the top will probably let a flood of cold air fall on some one's head; to raise a window from the bottom is no better. Windows may easily be fitted with a close-fitting board to be put in front of the opening, so that the current will strike no one. But, in general, the best thing that can be done is an ordinary, unventilated school-room, is to take time, as often as need be, put the school in motion, and then open the windows on both sides, completely changing the whole body of air.
EQUILIBRIUM OF BODILY TEMPERATURE.--In a healthy body, in good conditions, there is a certain equilibrium or balancing of temperature between its different parts which can not be disturbed without danger to health. One of the chief dangers from bad modes of ventilation is in the drafts,--and a draft is dangerous because it is likely to disturb the equilibrium of body temperature by cooling a part of the body. The same danger follows the wetting of the feet, or sitting with part of the clothing dampened. Heavy mufflers worn about the throat are dangerous for the same reason; they heat the throat unduly, and when they are removed a rapid cooling of the parts is likely to follow,--and the equilibrium is disturbed. The extremities are the parts most exposed to danger, as they are farthest from the center of life and heat. The legs and feet should be well protected,--especially the soles.

There is much wisdom in the old proverb, "Keep the feet warm, and the head cool.." The author was once riding with Dr. Calvin Cutter over the bleak hills of New Hampshire, facing a cold November wind. The Doctor was provided with a heavy shawl; but, instead of wrapping it about his shoulders, he wrapped it around his legs and feet.

CLEANLINESS.-- Our bodies are wasting all the time; particles of matter are dying, and new ones are taking their place. When we cease to die in this way, we are certain to die altogether. The dead, worn-out particles must be removed, and nature has provided for their removal in three ways: a great part passes off through the lungs, a part through the bowels, and a large part through the pores of the skin. If any one of these avenues of escape is stopped, the others must be overloaded, or disease will follow,--probably both will result. The exhalations throught the pores contain watery vapor; when this passes away, the dead matter remains, closing the pores.

A chill will do the same thing; hence, Dr. Cutter says, "If you were to varnish a man all over, he would seem to die of a cold." For the reason given above, when the pores are clogged, diseases of the lungs or the bowels are likely to follow. Probably, much of the Summer Complaint" is due to chills, or dirt on the skin, when the innocent water-melons or other fruits bear the blame. The danger from sitting in a room "just a little too cold" arises from the closing of the pores.

When the pores are closed by exhalations, the skin should be put in working condition again by bathing, or friction, or both. No definite rules can be given as to how often this should be done, whether cold water or warm water should be used, etc. It should be done often enough to keep the skin clean. If, after using cold water, the skin can be put into a healthy glow by friction, then a cold bath is god; but the bath should never leave a chill.
EXERCISE.--No one can be healthy without a due amount of muscular exercise. Care in this regard is especially necessary to the teacher, because his work furnishes but little exercise. Young people leaving active pursuits for the school-room, whether teachers or students, are likely to lose health if they are not very careful in the matter of exercise. But no fixed rules can prescribe just the best kind or amount of exercise; the needs vary with the individual. Walking, riding, playing vigorous games, etc., are all good forms of exercise. But, in general, it is best that the exercise have a purpose in itself apart from the fact that it is to preserve health. This is the advantage of a game, or a walk for the study of botany or geology, over the dull "constitutional."

Dr. Edward Hitchcock, of Amherst College, was in a state of health so feeble that his friends had nearly given him up to die; but just then he became interested in geological studies. He took long walks to find specimens; and the result was that he not only regained his health, but became one of the foremost geologists of his time.

Most of the common forms of exercise call into action only a part of the muscles; well devised gymnastics exercise all,--hence, their advantage. The "health-lift" is highly commended.
FOOD.--In respect to food, one man's wants can not be made the guide for another, either as to kind or amount. There is truth in the proverb, "One man's meat is another man's poison." The structure of our teeth indicates that it is intended that man should eat both animal and vegetable food. But the relative amounts of each will vary with different persons and with different circumstances. As a general rule, it is safe to eat whatever is commonly regarded as eatable, unless one finds that it does not agree with him; in that case, he should let it alone, whatever it may be, or however much appetite may crave it. There is scarcely any thing about which more nonsense has been written than about food. A good general rule is, "Eat good food, well-cooked, and enough of it."
Take your food regularly, --two or three times a day, as best agrees with you, --eat when the time comes, and at no other time; take nothing between meals. Eat slowly, --many Americans seem to pride themselves on the brevity of the time in which they can cram their meals into their stomachs.--they "glory in their shame." No ordinary meal should occupy less than twenty minutes,--perhaps half-hour is better. Social meals are better than solitary. Pleasant, lively conversation should take the mind off the act of eating,-- our meals should be something more than mere feeding times. No violent exercise of mind or body should immediately precede or follow a meal.
SLEEP.--In respect to sleep, also, one man's needs can not be made the measure for another. Each should ascertain for himself how much sleep he needs,--and then he should take it. Probably very few persons need less than seven hours, --more require eight or nine. There is a very foolish notion that time spent in sleep is lost; the student often takes pride in the number of hours that he saves from sleep. These are hours that he borrows at a ruinous rate of interest. No time is ever lost that is spent in needed sleep. Sleep repairs the wasted energies of the body, especially of the nervous system; and, if we fail to get enough sleep, bankruptcy of power is inevitable, sooner or later. Brain-workers probably need more sleep than manual laborers; but they are not as likely to feel their need. If one persist in robbing himself of sleep, he is likely to find, after a time, that he can not sleep. Doubtless, this hastened the death of Horace Greeley. It is quite probable that Hugh Miller's insanity was due to the same cause.
Whether to sleep the first part of the night or the last is a question each may settle for himself, but let him take care not to cut the night at both ends. As in eating, so in sleeping, regularity is of the greatest importance. Nature accommodates herself to our ways, but she will not be trifled with. If we have a regular time to sleep, we shall generally feel sleepy when that time comes. Health and bodily vigor are gifts that depend largely upon ourselves. Some people think sickness and bodily weakness criminal; and, doubtless, they are so in many cases.
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER XI.

THE TEACHER. -- Concluded .

What are Habits?--

The word habit comes from the Latin habere, to have; it means any custom, or practice, or act which by repetition becomes to us like "second nature." That which is habitual to us we do without thought, or effort, or special intention,--very much in the same way that we breathe. Habits are the practices or customs that we have ; or, if we think of their power over us, it will not be far wrong to say that they have us . It has been said that "man is a bundle of habits;" at any rate, a man's true character in all respects is indicated by his habits; nor would it be wrong to say that his habits make him what he is.
Dr. Rosenkranz has well said that we are not thoroughly educated in any thing till it has taken on the form of habit; in other words, habit is the form which all true education takes. This may be illustrated in a great many ways: one is not thoroughly educated in the multiplication table if he has to stop and think how many are eight times seven; he is not educated to write while he must think carefully how he ought to form his letters; he is not educated in morality while he debates the question whether he shall do right.
The great value of habit is that it enables us to do easily what ought to be done, and to do it rapidly and accurately, without any special thought or effort.
Habits, if they are bad, are full of danger, as they lead us to do many things which our judgment or our conscience disapproves. The bad habit of the drunkard carried him onward in his downward course, in spite of his judgment, his conscience, and his feeble will.
Bodily Habits.--A good test for all habits pertaining to the body is furnished by the question, "Are they becoming?" By this test, all vulgar habits, such as spitting, picking the nose, awkwardness of gait, etc., will be condemned.
DRESS.--It is significant that dress is often called habit; and the test just given for a habit of the body applies here with much force. Dress is intended to serve three purposes; viz., Decency, comfort, and adornment. Any dress that is not both decent and comfortable is not becoming, no matter how costly or stylish it may be. It is not necessary that dress should be very expensive in order to be becoming; nor can teachers, generally, afford very expensive dress. But the teacher's dress should be neat, well-fitting, and neither too much nor too little conformed to the prevalent mode. In style of dress, the teacher may well follow the old couplet:
"Be not the first by whom the new is tried,
Nor yet the last to cast the old aside."
The material should be good, although it need not be very costly; but, in general, very cheap material is not really economical; a coat that costs thirty dollars, if it is worth it, is likely to be cheaper in the end than one that is worth but fifteen dollars, as it will wear much longer, and will retain its good looks till it is worn out. One may be considered well-dressed when his appearance is pleasing to good taste; and yet it is difficult, after leaving him, to specify the kind or cut of the garments he wore.
Adornment is one proper purpose of dress; hence, a reasonable amount of ornament is well, especially in a lady's dress, if only it be modest, genuine, and in good taste. Sham is despicable anywhere, but nowhere more despicable than in ornament, because nowhere else is there so little excuse for it. Nor can we believe on is thoroughly sound morally, who will consent to wear sham jewelry or other sham ornaments. This may be a rash assertion; for, when we remember how many thousands of dollars' worth of jewelry are made in this country, of which you have "your choice for a dollar,"--but will be cheated to the amount of ninety cents, at least, if you take it,--we must suppose that we are pronouncing judgment on a great many people. But we will say deliberately that we would not employ a person to teach children if we knew that such a person wore sham jewelry or other sham ornaments, knowing them to be such.
POSITION.--The teacher should be very careful not to suffer himself to assume uncouth or awkward positions,--such as tipping his chair on two legs, thrusting his hands into his pockets, standing in a stooping attitude or with his legs twisted, or sitting on desks and tables, etc. Nor should he suffer his pupils to form such habits. An erect position in standing or sitting, with shoulders well thrown back, is not only more becoming, but it more healthful, as well.
MOVEMENT.--All movements in the school-room should be rapid, quiet, and graceful. In the attempt to move quietly, all awkward attitudes, such as walking on tip-toe, walking with hands clasped behind, etc., should be carefully shunned. If teacher or pupil be not actually deformed, nothing but care, effort, and perseverance is necessary to form correct habits both of position and movement. If the teacher find that his pupils have bad habits in these respects, he should set about correcting them; of course, this is not the main purpose of the school, but it is too important to be neglected.

Boys and girls in country schools are likely to be unreasonably sensitive on the points just mentioned. The writer well remembers that, in such a school, which he attended when he was a boy, the boys nearly rebelled because a new teacher peremptorily forbade them to wear their hats in the school-room at the noon intermission. They were not bad boys, nor were they fools; they were simply raw fellows who never had been taught any better. Had the teacher been wise enough, he might have accomplished his purpose without disturbing any of their prejudices or awaking any opposition.

Intellectual Habits

.--We shall make no attempt to consider all mental habits, but will only speak of four that are of special significance to the teacher.
CONCENTRATION.--No one ever accomplishes much intellectually, unless he can command his mental forces, and bring them to a focus on the matter in hand. This the good teacher must be able to do, even in the midst of distractions. But it is, perhaps, quite as necessary that the teacher have the power of rapidly withdrawing his mental forces from the thing in hand, and quickly centering them on something else; without this power, he will often be the victim of absent-mindedness. He alone who has control of his faculties in both directions is prepared to use his powers to the best advantage.

It is said of the great Napoleon, that he could sit down in his tent, with the sound of the cannon in his ears, spread out his maps, and plan the movements for the next day as coolly as though he were in the midst of perfect solitude; then, we his work was done, he could fold his maps, stretch himself on his camp bed, and be asleep in four minutes. The teacher should aim at acquiring the same kind of power, so far as he can do it.

ACCURACY.--Mental work is worth little in any case,--usually it is worth nothing,--if it is not accurate. The teacher ought to be in love with accuracy, and he ought to inspire that love in his pupil. "About right" is wrong; and wrong and right are opposed to each other. Let the teacher train himself, and train his pupils, to exactness in though, exactness in speech or any other kind of expression, and exactness in operation. Washington's accuracy in his work as a young surveyor is often mentioned. Without it, would he ever have become the exact, methodical, successful man that he was?
RAPIDITY.--When the mind can work accurately in any field, then it becomes o the highest importance to cultivate the power of working rapidly. This is a valuable habit, not only because more work can be done in a given time, but the mind is likely to do better work when it is aroused, -- when it works under pressure. "Keep cool" may be good advice sometimes; but sometimes it is better to warm up,--to get all in a glow. It is well for the teacher to train himself to work as rapidly as possible in whatever private study he undertakes, as well as in conducting the exercises of the school. In hearing classes, he should not suffer himself to waste time in calling roll, in finding his place in the book, and in "getting ready" in general. The recitation should begin at once, under a "full head of steam," and should be kept up in that way till it closes. The greater the pressure, in respect to time, brought to bear on the class, the better, so long as it does not result in confusion. Of course, such vigorous work should be followed by seasons of sufficient rest.
THOROUGHNESS.--The word thorough is the same as the through. To be thorough in a thing, then, is to go through it completely, encountering and mastering every difficulty. Thoroughness never is accomplished by dabbling simply with the surface of things; it must go deep down, and become master of principles. It is not necessary to know all that can be known about a subject in order to be thorough in it; but it is necessary to know the mot important things about it, to know them in an accurate and orderly manner, and to know completely all that we pretend to know.

Moral Habits

.--Here, again, we shall make no attempt to exhaust the list, but will call attention to four habits that are of special significance to the teacher.
TRUTHFULNESS.--There can be no right moral character unless it have truthfulness for its basis; hence, the propriety of placing this as the first of moral habits. We hope that there are few teachers who are in the habit of lying openly and intentionally, but something more than this is necessary to a character that is really truthful. There are many ways of being untruthful besides lying outright. The teacher who make hasty threats or rash promises, and then fails to keep them, is untruthful. So is he who pretends to a great love for his pupils which he does not feel; or he who pretends to know all about a subject of which is he is ignorant.
And what shall we say of the teacher who has set exercises prepared to display when visitors happen in? Or of the one who "fixes up" his exercises for examination? Such a man may read all the moral lessons on lying to his school, including the story of Ananias and Sapphira; but what does he teach them about the subject, except that it is a good thing to lie when any thing is likely to be gained by it? And what shall we say o the pupil who borrows work of his neighbor and palms it off as his own? Or who cheats in his lessons in other ways? And what can the teacher, guilty of dishonest practices, do with a pupil whom he catches at these tricks? Such tricks of teacher and pupils have in them the essence of thievery as well as falsehood, for they are attempts to get something for nothing by dishonest means.

When the true sense of "honor" prevails in our schools, instead of the miserable false code now so common, the pupils will feel it to be their duty, quite as much as their teacher's, to expose all such wretched practices, and to assist in bringing the offender to justice. What would be the moral status of any community where every man should feel bound "in honor" to shield a criminal from the pursuit of the civil officers, instead of assisting them to bring him to justice?

KINDNESS.--It is the teacher's duty to form the habit of kindness in thought, in look, and in speech. This is a moral habit when it is formed and persisted in because it is right, for,

MORALITY is a due regard for the right and a shunning of the wrong.

CHEERFULNESS.-- Much the same thing may be said about the habit of cheerfulness; it is a moral habit when it is followed because it is right. To be kind and cheerful when one is in glowing health and all goes well, simply because one feels like it, is right no doubt; but there is no morality in that any more than there is in the cat's lapping milk. But for one to force himself to be kind and cheerful habitually, when circumstances and his feelings prompt otherwise,--to do this because it is right,--is moral action of a high quality.
JUSTICE.--A careful habit of justice is essential to the teacher's success. The pupils, although ill-dressed--and even ill-behaved--have rights that no teacher can justly ignore. And the know it, too; they are quick to feel an injustice, and the memory of it will remain for years. It is not easy for the teacher to do exact justice by his pupils; he must be sheriff, lawyer, jury, judge, and executioner all in one, and that, too, in a press of other matters. It requires a right purpose, and unbiased judgment, a clear head, and much deliberation. But he should undertake nothing in the way of trying and punishing offenses unless he is willing to take the time and the pains to become acquainted with all the facts, to weigh them carefully, and to do exact justice to the full extent of his ability. It is a fortunate thing for a teacher when his pupils come to feel that, whatever may happen, they are sure to get justice at his hands. True justice towards pupils will have a sacred regard for their feelings, and will not subject them to harsh, undeserved sarcasm, and ridicule any sooner than to any other form of ill-treatment.
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER XII.

THE SCHOOL.

The House

.---Usually, the teacher has nothing to say about the situation of the school-house. But he should have intelligent views on this subject, as well as on all other connected with his business. Other things being equal, of course the best place to put the school-house is in the center of the district; but if the center is in marshy ground, or is otherwise unpleasant or unhealthy, or it if is not so accessible as some other place, then the school-house should be placed elsewhere. In a city, the school should not be situated on a noisy or dusty street, nor in the immediate vicinity of great manufactories or railroad depots, nor near saloons or other disreputable places.
SURROUNDINGS.---In the country, at least, the school grounds should be liberal in extent. A half acre is little enough; an acre is better. Probably the best shape for the ground is that of a rectangle about twice as long as it is wide. The ground should be surrounded by a substantial fence, to protect it from stray animals, and to determine the pupils' bounds. The house should be set well back from the street; the ground in front should be devoted to ornament, and the ground in the rear should be divided into two parts by a high and close fence extending from the house to the boundary of the lot. These divisions may be used as play-grounds for the boys and girls respectively. A few trees for shade should be planted around the play-ground, but there should not be so many as to interfere with free sports.
The ground in front of the house should not be used as a play ground, but should be kept in grass, and well adorned with trees, flower-beds, etc. An intelligent and skillful teacher can do much towards ornamenting and caring for this front yard. He can get assistance from the pupils in planting trees, flowers, etc., thus teaching them something about plant-life, awakening in them a pride in their surroundings, and so cultivating their aesthetic nature,--a part of education that seldom receives the attention it deserves. The yards should be well supplied with good plank or brick walks; brick are perhaps cheaper, but plank walks dry sooner and are not so troublesome in icy times.
THE STRUCTURE.--In building a school-house, it costs but little more to have some regard to due proportion and modest ornament than it does to build a structure that looks like a barn or a stable. The child will remember his old school-house as long as he lives. Is it worth while that the remembrance should be that of a building that is cheerful and tasteful? In building the school-house, care should be taken that the light shall not enter in front of the pupils, but from the sides of the room, and perhaps from the rear. There should be enough windows to give sufficient light; but, in some cases, there are more than are needed, giving too great a glare of light in bright summer days, and admitting too much cold air in the winter. It is well to have the windows protected by strong board-shutters, that may be closed at night and in vacation. In this way, the house may be protected from tramps and other intruders.
It would be well if all our school-houses were built with some due provision for ventilation; it is not difficult, if care be taken when the house is building. Let the walls, floors, and windows be made as tight as possible, and then provide for bringing fresh air into the house. Warm the air thoroughly by passing it over a properly constructed heater, and then pass it into the schoolroom. But, in order to make the air circulate, it is just as necessary that provision be made for the foul air to pass out, as for the pure air to get in. The place of escape should be made near the bottom of the room, and the foul air should pass off into the chimney, or into a separate flue provided for the purpose.
FURNITURE.--Usually the desks, etc., are purchased without consulting the teacher; but he ought to be able to show the people that it is much better to supply convenient, well-made, and well-finished desks, instead of the coarse desks that a common carpenter can make of ordinary lumber. The cost is but little greater, for those who manufacture school furniture as a business select their lumber, dry it thoroughly, and do most of the work by machinery. Hence, they can make it durable, tasteful, and at a moderate cost. Such furniture in itself teaches the pupils useful lessons; besides, it does not offer the same temptations to rude boys that rough, uncouth furniture does. Few boys will try their jack-knives on well-made, handsomely finished desks.
APPARATUS.--As a part of the furniture, we would class books for reference, globes, maps, and other apparatus. It often happens that it depends almost wholly on the teacher how much of such furnishings there shall be, and of what kind. If there is a lack of this respect, a teacher who is really is earnest will attend to the matter. Generally, he may get what he needs by making proper representations to the school authorities. If he can not do it in this way, he or his pupils may raise money by circulating a subscription paper; or some entertainment may be given by the school, to which a small fee may be charged. A very acceptable entertainment may be prepared with but little, if any, interruption of the regular school work. In fact, the exercises may consist largely of readings, compositions, and other exercises which belong to the regular work. It is better that the teacher should not contribute very freely of his own money for these objects; remember that people prize the things they pay for.
CONDITION OF THE HOUSE.--The teacher should see that the house all the premises are in good condition when he takes care of them. If repairs are needed, he should stipulate with his directors to have them made, when he makes his bargain with them; it may be well to put this stipulation into the written contract,--for there ought always to be a written contract. He should see, also, that the house is clean when he takes it, and then he should see that it is kept so. To this end, scrapers and mats should be provided, and should be used. As often as may be necessary, the house should be cleansed. The old-fashioned way of having teacher and pupils gather on Saturday and clean the house is not a bad one. It furnishes a good deal of fun, and at the same time gives the pupils a sense of responsibility in the matter.
If the house is clean, well warmed, and well ventilated, it is likely to be comfortable; but the windows should be supplied with some kind of shades to regulate the amount of light. If there are no interior blinds, very good shades can be made of cloth or of stout paper. The room should be made cheerful by pictures, mottoes, busts, and other ornaments,--even simple wreaths of leaves are better than nothing. If the teacher own articles that will ornament the room, he may use them for this purpose for a time. But it is better that he should get the pupils to help him obtain them, in some way, so that the school may own them. The sense of ownership on the part of the pupils assists in the education which they will get from these things, whose influence is sure to be a lasting one.
Organization.--What is it to organize any thing? In the Greek language is the word ergon,--spelled with Roman letters--which signifies a work. The root letters of this word are rg or rgn , and these letters express the original idea. The same letters are found in the words organ , urge , energy , thaumaturgy , and many others,--all these words express in some form the idea of work. To organize any thing is to put it in a condition to do some specific work. Why is the word appropriately applied to the musical instrument so called rather than to a violin or a cornet? Why is it proper to call the hand or the eye an organ of the body?
What may be organized? Any thing which by organization is prepared to perform a work. Hence, a legislative body, a town-meeting, any public assembly, an army, or a school, needs to be organized before it can enter upon its proper work. To organize includes arrangement, but it means something more; for example, the books of a library may be arranged, but a library can not be organized.

To organize a school is so to adjust its parts and forces that it may do the proper work of a school.

It should not be forgotten that the work of a school is two fold; viz., the acquisition of knowledge and the developing and disciplining of powers.
FIRST DAY'S WORK.--An old proverb says, "Well begun is half done." There is a great deal of truth in this, especially in a school. On the first day, the pupils of a school are more than usually wide awake and observant. The teacher may fancy that he is taking their measure; but he may be sure that they are taking his, quite as certainly and quite as accurately. The impression from this day will remain through the term. If that impression is a good one, it is not certain that the term's work will succeed; but, in that case, if the teacher fail, he will fail in spite of a decided advantage. On the other hand, if the first day's work is poor, future success will be uphill work.
PREVIOUS KNOWLEDGE.--It is important that the teacher should go to his first day's work furnished with all the knowledge he can possibly have concerning the house, the neighborhood, the pupils and their previous progress. He may gain this knowledge by visiting the district, inspecting the school-house, conversing with the former teacher, the directors, and others, and by examining the records of the pupils' progress and standing, if any have been kept. It ought to be required of every teacher that he should keep, and leave in permanent form, such records of his school as would give his successor fairly complete information concerning all the pupils.

In seeking knowledge concerning his future school, the teacher should not allow himself to be biased by neighborhood quarrels and jealousies; nor should be impress his patrons with the notion that he is over-anxious to obtain their views on schools and education. He ought not to lead them to think that he is as pliable as the good-natured teacher who was willing to teach that the earth is round or flat, just as his patrons should choose.

DEFINITE PLANS.--It is of great importance that the teacher enter the school-house, on the first morning, with a complete and definite plan of the work he proposes to do that day, and of the order in which the several steps are to be taken. Few things will so deeply impress his pupils with the idea that he is a master of his business.
PROMPTNESS.--The teacher should be on time every day; but it is especially important that he should be very prompt on the first day. If he intends to be at the house fifteen minutes before school-time on other days, let him be there half an hour before time on this morning. The pupils are usually present early on the first day, and the mere presence of the teacher may prevent the organization of mischievous schemes; besides, the furniture will need to be put in order, etc. He should greet his pupils cordially, but not show himself to anxious to become familiar. He should have his eyes wide open without seeming to be specially observant. If he detect some pupil whose look or manner seems to forebode trouble, it may be well to ask such a pupil pleasantly to assist in some of the work of preparation.
Signals .--At the exact moment, the signal for order should be given. If the house is furnished with a large bell, a warning signal may be given about ten minutes before the time to begin, to be followed by another, slighter signal at the exact time to begin. It is not well to give signals by pounding on the house with a ruler, nor in other uncouth ways; this is not putting things to their appropriate use. Bells have been used as signals for ages,--this is their chief purpose.
The slightest signal is the best, provided it is sufficient. A single, sharp tap of the bell means more than a prolonged ringing,--it says, "Come now;" but the long ringing says, "Come, after a while."

A visitor once passed an hour in one of those schools that seem to move like clock-work without any effort on the part of anybody;--no school ever really moves in that way, however. The visitor was especially impressed with the prompt and exact manner in which the classes arose and passed to recitation,--there seemed to be no signal. After the session, she asked a little girl belonging to one of the classes how the pupils knew when to rise and pass. "Why," said she, "did you not see the master move his thumb?"

ASSIGNING WORK.--As soon as the school is in order, work should begin. Two minutes or less is time enough for the teacher's inaugural,--a few words of greeting, a hope for diligence, good conduct, and success, heartily spoken, --this is enough. If devotional exercises are to be had on other mornings in the term, they should be begun now. As soon as they are over, some work, carefully arranged beforehand, should be given immediately to each pupil, except perhaps the very youngest. Examples may be put on the board for those who have been through the "ground rules" of arithmetic, another set for those more advanced, a spelling lesson for the younger ones, some exact task for the classes in geography, etc;--let each pupil feel that a responsibility is put upon him. It makes little difference what the work is, only it must be useful, reasonable, and definite . Fix an exact time at which the results will be called for, and do not neglect it when the time comes.
TAKING NAMES.--As soon as all are at work, the teacher may proceed to take the names; this should be done with the least demonstration possible. If any pupils are working at the board, let them write their names beside their work; give the older pupils slips of paper on which to write their names; pass to the others, and take their names in a whisper or in a low tone of voice. Be sure to spell al the names correctly. It is very essential that the teacher learn to put the names and their owners together as soon as possible. A pupil is impressed very differently when his teacher calls him promptly by name, from what he will be if the teacher designates him as the boy on the back seat, the boy with the red necktie, etc. He feels that, in the teacher's mind, he has passed out of the limbo indicated by "boy" into the field of true personality. Besides, as the pupils are so familiar with their own names, they feel that it is an indication of weakness for a grown man,--a teacher,--to be ignorant of what is so easy to them.
Learning Names. --To assist in learning the names, it will be well for the teacher to be supplied with a plan or map of the school-room; then, as soon as he ascertains a pupil's name, let him write it in the proper place on his plan; of course, the pupils will have been informed that they are to retain their present seats until they are changed by the teacher's order or permission. Having the plan before him, with all the names in their proper places, a careful glance from time to time at the name and face which belong together will soon associate them. He is a weak teacher in this respect who can not learn to call each pupil, in a school of forty, promptly by name at the close of the third half-day.
TEMPORARY CLASSIFICATION.--It is not wise to attempt to classify completely at first. Adopt the classes of the previous term, put new pupils where they seem to belong, taking care not to class them too high; let the pupils distinctly understand that this is all for the present, and that any changes will be made as soon as you think best to make them. Having thus arranged the classes, assign each a regular lesson. In the afternoon of the first day, put a temporary programme on the board; and, by the second day, the school should be working in regular order.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER XIII.
THE SCHOOL.---Continued .

Classifying

.--Let us new consider more fully the question of classifying a school. There are those who consider classification as an unmixed evil, and hold that, in the best schools, there will be no classes. They say that all instruction should be directed to the individual needs of the pupils. Perhaps it would be a sufficient answer to such a theory, to say that it is wholly impracticable in our public schools; the number that must be taught by a single teacher is so great that the pupils must be put in classes in order that the work may be done at all. But this is not all that can be said; there are other advantage besides a saving of time, as we shall hope to show. But, in order to understand more fully the saving of time , let us consider the meaning of three words: tell , teach , and train .
TELL, TEACH, and TRAIN have a similarity in sound; they resemble one another in meaning, also. But it is very important that they be not used as synonymous. Let us examine their different meanings. To tell a thing is simply to relate it, to say over words that are fitted to convey a certain meaning, without any special care as to whether the hearer really gets that meaning from them or not. To teach a thing, we must not only put it before the learner, but we must see to it that every step is thoroughly understood; this includes telling, and something more. Teaching involves the labor of two parties. Training includes all that teaching does; besides, it requires of the one who is trained that he put into practice that which he has been told and taught. And no work of education is of much value that does not take the form of training; for all education worth the name results in a habit, and habit is formed by training.
To illustrate, suppose a youth enters the shop of a blacksmith in order to learn the art of shoeing the horses. Perhaps his master might tell him all about the making and setting of a horse-shoe in half an hour; but he would not be taught how to shoe a horse in that way. Suppose, instead, the master should tell him only a small part of the matter, and then require the apprentice to recite the next day what he had been told, and to answer test questions to show that he fully comprehended it all. If this were continued a few days, the youth might acquire all the knowledge necessary to shoe a horse; and, if he were a fluent talker, he might impart this knowledge more clearly and more glibly that his master. But can he shoe a horse? Of course not; no one thinks of mastering a trade in this way.
On the contrary, when a boy enters the shop, his master will tell him how to do some simple part of the work, and then set him up to doing it. When he can do this part well, he is put to doing another part. In this way, by a little telling and teaching, followed by much practice, the master trains him until he can make and set a horse-shoe as easily as he can walk. It has become a habit.
In a similar way, all the effective work of the school-room takes the form of training; or, at least, leads to it. The pupil must be shown how the letters are combined into the correct spelling of words, and then he must write them until the letters flow from his pen almost without thought. His processes in arithmetic, if he really master the subject, become almost automatic. Training in the use of good English, both spoken and written, should be kept up until a slip will give him a shock, as something unnatural. Similar things may be said about ever study of the school; when they are properly managed, they all involve more or less of telling, teaching and training on the part of the teacher. But training is the most important of the three,--it should be the great business of the school.

Nor is this fact any less important in a moral education than in an intellectual one. Very significant are the words of the wise man: "Train up a child in the way he should go; and when he is old, he will not depart from it." No doubt many a disconsolate parent, as he weeps over a wayward child who has "set at naught all his counsels and would none of his reproofs," is inclined to doubt the truth of Solomon's language. But, probably, if he would think the matter over carefully, he would find that he has only given his son "counsels," teachings as to the right of way, but has never "trained him up" in the right way at all.

SAVES TIME.--In all the processes of telling, teaching and training, classification saves time, but not in the same proportion. In telling, the gain is directly proportioned to the size of the class; one can tell a thing to as many as can hear him, in the same time it would take to tell it to one. If he is careful to teach what he tells, the saving is not so great, but it is still considerable. In training, perhaps the saving is less; nevertheless, one can train twenty in a class in much less time than it would take to train them singly.
ENTHUSIASM FROM NUMBERS.--The help that students derive from each other is no small gain. If there is the earnestness and freedom of thought and expression that ought to prevail in a class, each contributes something to the common stock, and not seldom a pupil will suggest something that would have escaped the notice of the teacher. Besides, a good thing said by one of the class is very likely to impress itself on the other members more than it would if the same thing had been said by the teacher.
Of course, there is a kind of mutual help that is very hurtful; when a few of the class do all of the work, all of the thinking, and the others merely borrow from them, an evil exists for which the wise teacher will strenuously exert himself to find a remedy.
HABIT OF WORKING TOGETHER.--No man in this world can do very great things alone,--all great enterprises are carried forward by many combining and working together. But when men work together, they are obliged to regard each other's wants and peculiarities, to adapt themselves to each other, to give up some things that they might retain if they were working alone. Since this is the case, it would seem that class-work is more practical than solitary work.
The only apparent drawback to class-work is the danger that individual peculiarities and needs will be neglected, and this may be very serious. But the wise teacher, aware that such a danger exists, will be very careful to reduce the harm coming from it to a minimum.
SIZE OF CLASSES.--Whatever advantages may be claimed for any classification would seem to weigh in favor of large classes; the limit will be reached with the number whom the teacher can make hear him. But the disadvantage will weigh in favor of small classes, and the limit is one person. The large class saves more time, develops more enthusiasm, etc., while the small class give more opportunity to regard individual needs and peculiarities. It is believed that for older pupils thirty in a class are quite enough; twenty is a better number; ten are too few. For little children, fifteen make a large class; ten are about right; five are too few.
BASES OF CLASSIFICATION.--If a teacher should put his blue-eyed children in one class, and the black eyes in another; or if he should put all of a certain height or weight together, every one would see the absurdity of the performance. It is scarcely less absurd to put a boy into a certain class because of his age, or family, or the wealth or position of his father, than to put him there because of the color of his eyes. Perhaps, however, it is proper to put a backward pupil who is somewhat mature into a class a little higher than his acquirements would indicate, because it is fair to suppose that he may work somewhat harder than the pupils of the same standing who are less mature.
In many country schools, the classes are greatly multiplied because of the diversity of text-books; this is a cause of loud and bitter complaint on the part of many teachers. Probably it is better that the text-books should be uniform; but it is very foolish to put pupils who are of the same grade, or nearly the same, into different classes merely because their books are not alike. There is no possible excuse for this in any but a class in reading. Can not a class get a lesson on compound fraction from two or three different authors? Can they not manage a lesson on the geography of Ohio, using different text-books? In fact, a skillful teacher can turn this diversity to advantage.
TRUE BASES.--The true bases of classification are two in number; viz., present acquirements and general ability. Of these two, the latter is of more importance, although the former is more easily ascertained; and very often it seems to be the only thing regarded. General ability includes natural aptness, maturity of mind, good habits of study, health, etc.,--a simple examination does not readily disclose all these elements.
MODE OF CLASSIFICATION.--In order to classify a new school, the teacher must do one of two things; viz., adopt a rough and temporary classification at first, and then correct it as fast as possible, or keep his whole school in a state of chaos till he can ascertain the correct place of every pupil. We recommended the former course in the last chapter. As soon as the temporary classification is adopted, and the school set to work, the teacher should begin to study carefully to see what pupils are in the right classes, and what ones ought to be changed. To this end, every recitation is an examination. Probably, most will be found to be in the proper classes; then, for a few lessons, let attention be given almost exclusively to those whose standing is doubtful, and let them be changed as fast as the proper changes can be determined. It is important that all should be in their permanent places as soon as possible, in order that they may enter on the real work of the term, and that all may be supplied with the proper textbooks. If there are no more than forty pupils in the school, a sharp and earnest teacher ought to have all in their places by the end of the fifth day, or the seventh at farthest.

The Programme.

--No work anywhere is likely to be well done if it is not carefully planned, --well mapped out. Certainly, a good programme is one of the prime necessities of a good school. Of course, the teacher may have such a programme in his own mind; this is well as far as it goes, but it is better for him and for the school to have it carefully written out and posted in some conspicuous place, where all can see it. If the blackboard is scanty, the programme may be written neatly on strong manila paper. In a school of small children, the programme should show the exact time for studying each subject, as well as the time to recite it.
ADVANTAGES.--There are two decided advantages in having a well-prepared programme, and there seems to be no objection to it. A programme is a saving of time to teacher and pupils. Without it the teacher will have to stop and consider what to do next; he will be called upon also to answer many questions as to the time when certain classes will recite, etc. The pupils will waste time in asking such questions, or in querying what they had better do next.
The programme lays a responsibility on teacher and pupil. No teacher should ever ask if a class is ready with the lesson; let them fell that when the time comes they are responsible for the lesson. A sense of responsibility is the beginning of every movement towards a higher plane. The programme is a very important educational force. By it the pupil also forms the habit of performing his duties regularly, promptly, and according to plan. Such a habit is a grand preparation for the emergencies of life,--it is worth more than the acquisition of a science or a language.
CONSTRUCTION OF THE PROGRAMME.--a few general hints on making a programme may be given; but full instructions are impossible unless one could know all the circumstances and conditions. The time should be wisely distributed, according to the number of classes, their size, the age and advancement of the pupils, the nature of the study, etc. Young pupils should have short lessons, and have them often; then minutes is long enough for the little children. For older pupils and more difficult subjects, more time should be allowed; but little can be done with an advanced class in Grammar or Arithmetic in less than half and hour. It is better for such classes to recite on alternate days than to recite every day, if they can not have a time of reasonable length otherwise.
The first recitation in each half-day should be one from the older pupils, prepared out of school hours, or one from the little children who make no preparation. Younger pupils should have their lessons so arranged as to allow a time to study each lesson just before reciting it. No study like writing or drawing should immediately follow a play time. A few minutes for movements, answering questions, etc., should be allowed at regular hours. It is often well to arrange the lessons so as to dismiss the younger children an hour earlier than the rest; it is a relief to the children, to the teacher, and to the older pupils as well.
HOW CLOSELY FOLLOW THE PROGRAMME?--There is little danger of following the programme too closely; the danger is all on the other side. Each exercise should begin and end at the exact time noted. If the teacher is likely to become so interested in his work as to overrun his time, he should appoint some pupil to give the signal; and when the signal is given, he ought to obey it promptly. A programme-clock will prevent all danger, if it is properly used. If the teacher should chance to finish his lesson before the allotted time expires, he may give the class something extra in the way of information; if, however, he has nothing that is worth giving, he should dismiss the class.
Grading.--There is no essential difference between graded schools and well classified schools; the different grades are but classes put into the hands of different teachers. A system of graded schools should always have an able and well-qualified superintendent at its head. Of course, such a person ought to command a good salary, but he can use teachers of less experience under his direction and supervision; and, in that way, better work may be done, and at less cost than would be necessary of only those teachers were employed who could be trusted to do their work without supervision. No one ought to attempt the supervision of a system of graded schools without giving the subject very careful thought and study. The annual reports of the schools in cities like St. Louis, Boston, Cincinnati, and Chicago will possess much interest for a superintendent.
The great danger in graded schools is that the grades will be made too inflexible, and thus the individual will be sacrificed to the system. A wise superintendent will devise ways to prevent this, and to allow each student to progress as fast as he is able, and no faster.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER XIV.
MANAGEMENT.

It is hardly proper to discuss the relative value of good management in schools, as compared with instruction and training. In a certain sense the management is subsidiary, of course; but it is certain that no school can be well instructed if it is not well managed. As for the training, a large and very valuable part of it results directly from good management. The necessity of thoughtful attention to the matter becomes apparent when we remember how many teachers well qualified to instruct fail because they are not able to manage. Probably the larger part of the failures are due to this cause.

Voice

.--A good, well-managed voice on the part of the teacher is one of the most effective aids in managing a school. Such a voice is not loud; but it is clear, distinct, pitched on a low key, and generally it speaks with the falling inflection. When such a voice speaks, there is always a quality in it that indicates deliberate thought, purpose, and determination; in short, such a voice says that a man or woman stands behind it. Not all people are equally endowed with good voices; but any real man or woman whose vocal organs are not seriously defective may acquire a good voice.

Eye.--

The teacher's eye may be another most effective instrument of management. A teacher who knows how may answer a question, give a command, grant a request, or quell a rising disturbance by a glance of the eye. An eye that can do this is wakeful, alert, expressive, and resolute,--like the effective voice, it must be recognized as having an effective personality behind it. If a teacher who can use his eye is this way suspects that mischief is going on in a distant part of the room, he does not rush to the scene of the disturbance, nor shout to the offender; but, keeping his eye steadily fixed in that quarter, he waits till he can catch the offender's eye, and then settles the whole trouble by a look. Very likely, no other pupil knows any thing of what is going on, and the quiet of the school is not disturbed in the least.

Government

.--A large part of school management consists in government, but by no means all of it.

GOVERNMENT is the exercise of authority.

It is causing the will of the governed party to yield to the will of the governor. It must be clearly seen that one does not govern by hiring, coaxing, wheedling, or exhorting. Some of these things may be very proper to do at times; but let no one deceive himself with the notion that he is governing when he does them.
REASON FOR IT.--But here the question of the ground of government must be met. What right has one in authority to ask,--to compel, if need be--other wills to yield to his? A great many partial answers may be given, which are correct as far as they go: but they may all be included in this:

One in authority has a right to govern for the good of the governed only.

No human government,--in school, family, church, or state,--has any right to exist for a moment upon any other ground. Is it not probable, also, that this is the reason for Divine government? Men have not always looked at government in this way, as we have abundant proof from history; nor do all who rule to-day observe the principle, even if they recognize it in theory.

Government, everywhere and always, should rest on clear intelligence, and not on the feeling of the one who administers it. The fickle nature of a government by feeling is often illustrated by the popular clamor for the death of a criminal when some crime of great atrocity has shocked a community, followed by the same persons, perhaps, signing a petition for the pardon of the criminal when he has been legally convicted of the very crime that so moved them before,--but after their feelings have had time to change. In this case, feeling, in both its exhibitions, strives to effect wrong purposes.

PERSONAL FEELING.--A just recognition of these principles will not allow personal feeling of any kind to control in matters of government. The teacher should ask, and honestly answer, a single question in respect to any exercise of his authority that he proposes; that question is, Will this be for the good of my pupils? This will apply to all requirements, rules, regulations, refusals, permissions, reproofs, and even punishments; not, Will this thing give me ease, or power, or popularity, but, Will it benefit my pupils, one or all?
To be sure, good government in school will benefit the teacher in many ways, but his benefit is no just ground for any act of authority. The world is so constituted that well doing usually benefits more than one party; like mercy, "it is twice bless'd." Many of the richest blessings of life and experience come to us incidentally , and will come in no other way. Seek happiness directly, and you will miss it; go forward in the way of duty, and it will seek you.
If the teacher manages and governs solely for the good of his pupils, they will be sure to discover the fact, although he may say nothing of his motives in the case,--as the wise teacher probably will not. When the teacher rules in this way, and his pupils come to know and feel the fact, the antagonism that sometimes exists between teacher and pupils, as between two hostile parties, is not longer possible to any intelligent, right meaning pupil. He will feel that there is the same single aim proper for teacher and pupils; viz., the best good of the pupils. When antagonism between teacher and pupils disappears, there is harmony in place of discord, peace instead of war, and efficiency in place of wasted effort.

Punishment

.--The principle we have been considering has a very important relation to the subject of punishment. Punishment, or the possibility of punishment, is essential to the very idea of government. A requirement that implies no penalty may be a request or an exhortation; it is not a law. There can be no law without some penalty to follow its infraction. A government that will never hurt is a government in name only, not in reality.

" PUNISHMENT is pain inflicted on an offender, by competent authority, either to reform him or to deter others, or for both purposes."

That which causes no pain or loss can not be punishment,--nor is it possible to punish any one but an offender, however much pain we may cause him to feel. Nor can any one not in authority punish, however much deserved pain he may visit on an offender. Nor does proper authority punish when it inflicts deserved pain on an offender, unless it be done with the right purpose. If it were necessary, all these essentials to the true idea of punishment might be fully illustrated from school-life. In the state, there is another proper purpose of punishment; viz., the vindication of justice; but in school, it is enough to regard the two we have mentioned, and generally we should lose sight of neither of these.
IMPROPER.--Often we find forms of so-called punishment in school that are base, cruel, and wholly unworthy the name. Among such, are all degrading or brutal punishment,--such as shutting in the dark, pulling hair, pinching the cheeks, indiscriminate hitting and switching, and all forms of torture, some of which, like "holding a nail in the floor," were often resorted to in the old-time school. In this list should be put all angry and vengeful punishments, and all unreasonable sarcasm and ridicule. None of these abominations, and others that might be mentioned, are worthy of a decent teacher. Among proper punishments we may name loss of rank, forfeiture of privileges, imposition of tasks, reprimand, private and public, etc,; but any punishment, the most proper in form, becomes improper if administered in a wrong spirit by the teacher.

Some writers, notably Herbert Spencer, declare that all punishment should in some way be related to the offense in kind or in sequence; for instance, if one comes late to school, punish him by making him stay after school as many minutes as he was tardy. No doubt it is well to observe such adaptation when it can well be done; but, in many cases, it seems hardly possible.

CORPORAL PUNISHMENT.--When the pain inflicted by punishment falls upon the body, that punishment is corporal punishment, no matter what specific form it takes. Is such punishment proper? Why not? There is no government without law,--there is no law without possible punishment ; there is no punishment without pain of some kind,--hence, there is no possibility of government without the possibility of some pain to follow it. Can there be any pain but pain of body or pain of mind? Why is the body so peculiarly sacred that it must feel no pain in punishment? It is not strange that people are sensitive respecting corporal punishment, for it has been terribly abused; but we are wholly unable to see why it is not a perfectly proper mode of punishment, in the school or in the family, when it is deserved, when it is given in a proper measure and in a proper way. Dr. Rosenkranz says: "The view which sees in the rod the panacea for all the teacher's embarrassments, is censurable; but equally undesirable is the false sentimentality which assumes that the dignity of humanity is affected by a blow given to a child."
In reality, it will be found that any valid arguments against corporal punishment are valid against all punishment. To punish is to inflict pain,--an operation form which every right-feeling person shrinks,--but an operation which should never be abolished until the offenses cease which make punishment proper. Often, in schools where corporal punishment is not allowed, something worse is resorted to. Proper punishment is not cruelty, even though it make the body sting,--taking far-reaching consequences into account, it may be the bitterest cruelty to withhold it. Nor should corporal punishment be the last form of punishment. Expulsion may properly come later. If a rude, turbulent boy can be kept in school and judiciously whipped into decent behavior, will any one say that it is not better for him, and for all concerned, than it would be to turn him into the street?
Caution.-- But corporal punishment should never be given without deliberation and careful thought, followed by a clear conviction that it is the best form of punishment for the special case in hand. It should never be inflicted hastily, never in anger, and never in such a way as to lead the culprit or any witness to suppose that it is not painful to the one who gives it, as well as to the one who receives it. Nor should it be made a small affair,--let not the body of the child be assailed for any but a serious cause, and then let the infliction be such that there will be no wish to have it repeated. If, with the same pupils, a teacher finds an increasing necessity for corporal punishment, he may be perfectly certain that there is something the matter with himself; if he can not cure the evil, he should seek another field or kind of labor. It need not be said that punishment, even severe corporal punishment, is perfectly consistent with the deepest love of the teacher for his pupil; in fact, love may prompt the infliction of punishment, as it may prompt any thing else that the pupil needs for his guidance and direction.
We have now considered some of the general questions of government; in our next chapter, we will point out some of the specific things necessary to the teacher in order that he may govern well.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER XV.
MANAGEMENT.--Concluded.

HE MUST BE MASTER.--In order that the teacher may govern his school well, he must be master. His will must be law in his own domain; and there must be no doubt about it, either in his own mind or in the minds of his pupils. But, while this is true, there need be no unnecessary exhibition of authority; least of all, should there be any boasting or braggadocio on the part of the teacher. All such exhibitions indicate a lack of confidence, if any thing, and pupils are likely to put such a construction upon them. Besides, a boast from the teacher appears to his pupils like daring them to transgress, and a challenge is a great temptation to boys of spirit. In nature, the strongest forces are always quiet forces; --for instance, gravitation or the power of the sun's rays. The same thing is true among men: the men who are obeyed most implicitly are quiet men. Settled, unquestioned authority can afford to be calm and quiet,--and calm and quiet are necessary to the most successful settling of questions of authority.
HE SHOULD GOVERN AS LITTLE AS MAY BE.-- While there should be no question of the teacher's right and power to govern, he should never exercise his power without good reason for it; nothing should ever be done simply to show that he has authority. Good government is a blessing to humanity; but the less show of government the better always, provided its purpose be accomplished. The philosophy of the last statement is very simple: we have seen that government should be not an end in itself, --it is the means to an end; viz., the good of the governed. It will always be true that, if any end be secured, the less expenditure of means the better.
ABOUT MAKING RULES.--Growing out of the principle just given, are some practical suggestions about making rules in school. The old-fashioned school-master appeared before his school with a long and elaborate set of rules, carefully drawn up; these rules seemed to be intended to command explicitly every thing that should not be done. They were often read to the school, and not seldom they were printed or written, and posted up in some conspicuous place. In a school so managed, the sum of every offense consists in "breaking a rule." Now, a teacher has a perfect right to proceed in this way; and certainly it is, and should be, a grave offense in any school to "break a rule" laid down by authority. But there is a more excellent way. There are a least five grave objections to a long code of rules in a school.
First.--Make your list as long as you will, you can not all cases that may arise. But, if you have made a long list, and have taught pupils that the breaking of a rule is the substance of each offense, then they will infer, --and logically, too, --that whatever they do, they have committed no offense if they have broken no rule.
Second.--The enunciation of the rule will sometimes suggest the thing forbidden, to the child's mind. An old story is told of a careful mother who was about to leave her large family of children for a little time. Having a peck of beans in the house, it occurred to her over-careful should that her children might be tempted to put them in their noses during her absence. So, it is said that she left them with the following emphatic words, enforced by an ominous shake of her finger: "Now, children, while I am gone, don't you go and put any of those beans in your noses. Do you hear?" According the story, she found all their noses full of beans on her return. Whatever may be the truth of this story, there is no doubt that forbidding a thing may often suggest the doing of it.
Third.--Human nature craves what is forbidden. The old story of the disobedience of our first mother is in perfect accord with the tendencies of her descendants as we know them to-day.
Fourth.--Pupils will violate the spirit of a rule, while they keep its letter. If whispering is forbidden, writing on the slate may follow; if all writing is forbidden, too, perhaps the deaf and dumb alphabet is used, etc. It would seem that, if the teacher's system of government is the one that we are criticizing, he must make his indictment cover the specific case, or no penalty ought to follow. In this respect, government in the school should differ from government in the state.
Fifth.--Every rule ties the teacher's hands. If he has made a law, he is bound to see it enforced; if he has threatened a fixed penalty for an offense, he is not at liberty to vary it. All this is in the way of his dealing freely with each misdemeanor as the circumstances or the peculiarities of the case may demand.
TWO KINDS.--Shall the teacher make no rules? We shall be able to answer this question better if we notice that offenses in school may be broadly divided into two grand classes: First, there are things which are offenses in school because they are wrong in themselves,--they are offenses anywhere; of this class are lying, cruelty, obscenity, etc. Against such offenses the teacher need have no rule, except the general one. "Do nothing wrong,--do what is right."

The writer was once called to take charge of a school where his predecessor, it seemed, had governed in the way here condemned. Often, when a boy was called to account for some bad behavior, he would put in the plea, "I did not know it was against the rule." The answer was, "It is not against the rule; a great many wicked things are not against our rules,--we have no rule against murder. But did you know it was wrong?" As this question was put, with a look square in the offender's eye, he often frankly confessed his wrong-doing.

Second, There are very grave school offenses that are not wrong in themselves, but are made offenses by circumstances. Such are whispering, walking around the school-room, etc. Against such offenses, rules must sometimes be made; but the teacher should make as few as may be, and never make one till it is needed.

Illustration. --Many years ago, the writer took charge of a large grammar-school in an eastern city. Young trees, five or six inches in diameter, were growing next to the curbstone of our sidewalks. He had been in his position for some months before the boys molested those trees, so far as was known, nor had it occurred to him that they would do so. But, boys have a way of doing things by "fits,"--they play marbles, fly kites, etc., as the fit takes them. Nor are they very unlike older people in this respect. One of these fits took the boys one day while the teacher was gone to dinner; and, on his return, he found all those young shade-trees as full of boys as though boys had been their appropriate crop. Now, in general, it is a very proper thing for a boy to climb a tree. But climbing small shade trees in the city is a special case; the teacher concluded an emergency was upon him, and something must be done. As soon as the school had come to order, he passed through several rooms and laid down the rule that there must be no more climbing of the trees; and as the boys had learned that a law meant what it said, that was the end of the trouble.

THE TEACHER MUST BE TRUTHFUL AND JUST.---We have spoken of truthfulness and justice as moral qualities; we now say that they are essential to good government. When the pupil clearly understands that the teacher's word, in the form of a promise or a threat, has been passed only after careful consideration, and that it will be made good at all hazards, a long step has been taken in good government. And the same is true when the pupil has come to know that his teacher will take all pains to avoid doing him an injustice, even though he may have occasion to treat him severely.
HE SHOULD BE DELIBERATE AND FIRM.--We have said that the teacher should not pass his word till he as considered the matter carefully. Thus, a teacher of good judgment will rarely have need to take a back step,--a back step is a sad thing for a governing party. If, however, he finds that, with all his care, he has made a mistake, the only manly way, the only safe way, is to acknowledge his error and take the back step. But if he has to do this often, his government will surely suffer.
Teasing.-- When it is understood that the teacher's word, once deliberately spoken, is final, much has been done, not only to make his government strong, but to make it easy to himself. A parent or teacher who is annoyed by the "teasing" of a child has only himself to blame for it. If the child makes a request, and it is refused hastily and thoughtlessly, he is very likely to prefer it again pretty soon, perhaps over and over. Suppose the answer, pettishly given by-and-by, should be, "Yes, yes; I suppose I shall have no peace till I let you do it." That child has learned a lesson in teasing that will return to torment his ruler more than once. Nor should wheedling and coaxing be encouraged, any more than teasing.
The teacher may save himself many mistakes and annoyances, if he will plan beforehand for perplexities and emergencies that are likely to arise. He should defer a decision respecting any thing unexpected that arises, if it can be done; if a decision must be made at once, he can only use his best judgment, and run the risk of a mistake.
THE TEACHER SHOULD SEEK TO AVOID ISSUES WITH PUPILS AND PARENTS.--A matter has reached an "issue" when two parties have been brought into direct opposition to each other, and one or the other must yield.
It will sometimes happen that an issue can not be avoided reasonably or honorably; in such a case, the teacher should take care that he has right on his side, and then meet the issue squarely, determined to win. But heedless, headstrong teachers quite often provoke issues in which they are sure to be beaten; or, if they win, the victory is too costly.

THE TEACHER SHOULD GOVERN HIMSELF

-This includes nearly all that has been said, or that need to be said, in respect to the essentials of a teacher's government. No one is fit to govern others till he can govern himself,--nor is there any other victory of government so hard to win. The proverb says, "He that is slow to anger is better than the mightily, and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city." Probably the word "better" is used in the sense of stronger, as we sometimes hear it used in common talk, -- and, in this sense, the proverb is true. History tells of many men who were able to take cities, but were unable to rule their own spirits,--Alexander is a notable example. Of course, it is to be understood that one has a spirit to rule if it is to require strength to rule it. Washington is an illustrious example of a man who gained great power over others because he first gained power over his own spirit, and there is abundant evidence that his spirit was one that it required power to control.
It must not be supposed that self-control means an icy, impassive demeanor, nor slow and measured speech, on all occasions; self-control is not necessarily self-repression. True self-control implies the power to rouse and electrify, as well as the power to calm or to awe. And this power is peculiar to no age or sex; it is often lacking in the stalwart, bearded man; and it is often present in the slender girl not yet out of her "teens." It is largely a gift of nature; but, like all of nature's gifts, it may be improved with cultivation.
TWELVE PRINCIPLES.--We will close this chapter with a concise statement of a few principles of good management:
First.-- No school can be well taught if it is not well managed.
Second.-- Never make any thing pertaining to management an end in itself.
Third.-- No work is ever likely to be well done it is not well planned.
Fourth.-- A teacher's example weighs more than his words.
Fifth.-- Make no law, grant or refuse no request, give no reproof, till you have thought about the matter.
Sixth.-- When you have once taken your position, stick to it.
Seventh.-- If, however, you see that you have made a mistake, confess and rectify your mistake like a man.
Eighth.-- One who is kept busy about right things has no time for mischief.
Ninth.-- Be more anxious to prevent wrong-doing than to punish it.
Tenth.-- Often make a friend of a wayward pupil by getting him to do you a service.
Eleventh.-- Seek always the good of your pupils; let good to yourself be incidental.
Twelfth.-- NEVER PUNISH IN ANGER.
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER XVI.

LESSONS.

LESSONS constitute the peculiar and special work of the school; hence, we should give attention to this subject. What do we mean by lessons? How should they be assigned? How learned? How recited? These are some of the questions to be considered.

Recitations.

--The noun "recitation" comes from the verb to recite . This is derived from the Latin citare , to say, to call, or to summon, joined with the prefix re , meaning again. Literally, then, a recitation consists in saying over what has been learned, as a poem, a passage of Scripture, or a lesson. This is the idea expressed by the child when he asks his fellow, "Can you say your lesson?" Now, the school exercises which we call recitations ought to include much more than is expressed by the literal meaning of the verb, to recite. It is somewhat unfortunate that we have no more comprehensive word than the term recitation, to apply to our school exercises. But, as this is the term used by common consent, let us inquire what special exercises a so-called recitation may properly include.
TESTING.--We mean, by testing, the ascertaining of the pupil's knowledge of the lesson assigned for that particular hour; this should be the first and most important part of the recitation. The lesson has been carefully assigned at some previous time, to be learned from a book or from some other available source. Now, the questions are: Has the pupil tried faithfully to do his work? Has he succeeded? In what degree, or in what respect, has he failed? His acquisition of the lesson should have been two-fold,--that is, he should have mastered the thought of the lesson, and he should be prepared to state that thought in appropriate language. He may have failed in either of these particulars. Skillful questioning may show that the thought of the lesson has found a lodgment in his mind with a fair degree of accuracy and fullness, but that he is utterly unable, without aid, to give that thought any appropriate dress in language. Or he may have committed to memory excellent language from the book, and be utterly ignorant as to its meaning. In either case, there is a call for inquiry and action on the part of the teacher. If the failure is from no fault of the pupil, he needs help. If it is a result of his own indolence or inattention, he needs help of another kind.
In no case should the matter be passed over carelessly, nor should a movement be made towards any thing else till the evil is corrected. If the pupil has been unfaithful, reproof or punishment should follow; if a large part of the class have been unfaithful, no attempt at progress in any other direction should be made; but after reproof or punishment the lesson should be assigned again, probably with some addition, and the class should be dismissed. For this reason, the test should come early in the recitation; generally, the first thing, that it may be known whether any thing else is to be attempted. If the testing is fairly satisfactory, then other exercises should follow or accompany it.
INSTRUCTION.-- Hearing lessons recited is by no means all of the teacher's business; he should teach, instruct, give additional information, either by explaining what the pupil has already studied, or by giving new and additional matter from independent sources.
And he should go before his class, every day, fully prepared to give instruction in one or both of these ways. How much light he may throw upon the abstract statements of the text-book, by skillful illustrations drawn from every-day life in which all are so intensely interested! How the showing of pictures of men, of buildings, of landscapes, may give a vividness to the lesson in reading or history or geography! In short, there is no end to what the teacher can do, by imparting additional information, to give clearness and fullness of thought, to awaken interest, to stimulate memory, and to excite a strong desire to know yet more upon the subject in hand. But, in order that these desirable results may follow, the teacher must traverse wide fields for his material, must carefully sift an prepare it, must present it in a skillful way, and must be sure to call for it again.

The very name text -book suggests the use that should be made of it. It should be a book of texts,--short, clear statements of facts or principles. It is the teacher's business to make these texts comprehended by the pupils, and to make them the basis, or the nucleus, of a much larger stock of information than any text-book can properly furnish.

REVIEWING.--Generally, a recitation is incomplete that does not include considerable reviewing. Reviewing is testing; but it is testing in respect to former lessons; while testing, as we have appropriated the word, is confined to the lesson of the day. Constant repetition, which is review, is necessary in order to fix a thing firmly in the memory. But, further, a matter brought up in review may take on new meaning, from the fact that it may be seen in new relations because of increased knowledge.
It should be understood that a review of the last lesson is always in order; also, that when any thing in the present lesson is met that relates to something learned in any former lesson, a review of the former lesson in regard to the point in question is to be expected. Pupils with whom a teacher constantly deals in this way will form the habit of looking back, as they prepare their lessons, to join the knowledge they are now gaining with what has gone before. Besides the incidental reviewing here indicated, of course room remains for frequent thorough reviews. There is little danger that there will be too much reviewing.
DRILLING.--We borrow this term from the soldier's practice; he goes through daily evolutions, not because he does not know the movements, but in order to make them automatic. The pupil should do similar work for a similar purpose. The object of a review is to ascertain if knowledge previously gained has been retained; the object of a drill is to make knowledge that is retained habitual, --to give it an automatic or mechanical form. In every study, some things need to be put in this form, -- elementary sounds, slides, and inflections in reading; definitions, tables, and formulas in mathematics; dates in history; rules in grammar, etc.
ASSIGNING NEXT LESSON.--At some time during the hour of recitation, ample time should be taken for the assigning of the next lesson, which, we shall show, is not a matter that can safely be treated so hurriedly and carelessly as many seem to suppose. Generally, the best time to do this is at the close of the lesson; but, if for any reason, it is likely to be treated slightingly if deferred till that time, it may well claim a place immediately after testing.
There is no absolute necessity that all of these five things, which, it is claimed, belong legitimately to what is called recitation, should come in every one. Drilling may oftenest be omitted; but testing and assigning the next lesson, rarely or never. Nor is their order very essential, except to the extent already indicated.
A skillful teacher will often contrive to have several of these exercises going on at the same time. When he is instructing or assigning a lesson, he needs the attention of all his class; but, by the help of the blackboard or writing tablet, he may have some pupils reviewing, some drilling, and some undergoing the testing process, at the same time.

Assigning Lessons.

--You may observe a careless teacher sitting in some lounging or easy attitude when the time for closing the recitation arrives; glancing hurriedly forward in his textbook, he says: "Well, you may take six pages next time;--no, perhaps five is enough,--class is dismissed." Such actions and words betray woful [sic] ignorance of his business or inexcusable laziness. The fixing of the next lesson is a matter too important to be tossed off in that way.
LENGTH.--It is very important that the lesson should not be unreasonably long; evil is sure to follow, but all pupils will not be injured in the same way. There is one evil, however, that is almost certain to follow when lessons of improper length are given repeatedly,--that is, the formation of bad habits of studying. The pupils in almost any class of moderate number may be roughly divided into three groups: 1st, Those who are bright and industrious; 2d, Those who are plodding, faithful, and ordinary in ability; 3d, Those who are stupid, lazy, or tricky.
If too long a lesson is set before the first group, they will learn it, if such a thing be possible, but mind or body, or both, will scarcely escape injury. The second group will plod away and do their best; but the result will be mere surface-work, or a nebulous understanding of the matter. Continued efforts of this sort will result in the formation of the worst possible mental habits for the student. The third group, discouraged or disgusted, will probably seek some dishonest way of seeming to have done the work, or they will flatly give up with little or no effort, consoling themselves with the saying, "One might as well die for an old sheep as a lamb." This is the pet proverb of that class of people.
If the lesson is too short, each of these groups will receive special injury. The first will do the work required, but the spare time remaining will be a temptation to evil. The second,--generally by far the most numerous,--will probably accomplish the task, but will take twice the necessary time, thus aggravating their natural habit of slowness. The third, judging that the task is easy, will probably procrastinate until too little time remains even for an easy task; here their pet proverb comes into play again, and they will be likely to do nothing.
Hence, the length of the lesson should be just right,--but it is no easy matter to determine what is just right. We have divided our class into three groups, but really no two pupils have exactly the same ability to master a lesson. So, in determining the length of the lesson, the teacher must make an average of the ability of his class; it is well, then, to assign the lesson for those who are a little above this average. In the writer's experience, he has found that moderately difficult lessons are better learned, in general, than very easy ones.
DEFINITENESS.--Exactly what will be required in the lesson should be made so plain that no pupil can say, "I did not know what was wanted" without incriminating himself. In every lesson assigned from a book, some things are more important than others; these demand special attention, and they should be very clearly designated. The teacher may desire to have rule, principle, formula, or felicitous statement reproduced verbatim; he should indicate such passages, and let the pupils know clearly what he wants. He should tell what parts he wishes mastered only in a general way, without any attempt at precision. He may deem some statements unimportant or erroneous; then he should let the pupils know that these may be omitted. He may desire to have something added to what the book gives, either from his own instructions or from some book of reference; then he should tell the pupils exactly what he wants and where it may be found.
THE TEACHER'S PROBLEM.--We shall probably agree that the teacher's problem is assigning a lesson correctly is not a very easy one. Let us see what elements enter into it. First, He must consider the inherent difficulties of the subject-matter; and, in weighing its difficulties, he must look from the learner's standpoint, not his own. Let him recall the lesson, not as it appears to him now, but as it appeared at the first encounter. It is true that the more difficult, having once been mastered, afterwards appear easier than other less difficult things with which we never had so severe a battle. Second, He must weigh the ability of the class, considering each individually, and then making an average. Third, He must take into account the time allowed the pupils for preparation, and the time allowed the class for recitation. Last, Various circumstances ought to modify the length of the lesson; not the same task should be set in warm, debilitating weather, as in weather that is clear and bracing, nor in a time of general ill-health as in a time when health is good. The time in the term, the pressure of home duties and other matters, may well modify the teacher's demands on his pupils.
A problem of so much importance and difficulty can not be well solved in the odd moments at school, nor amid the distractions of the school-room. The teacher should make it a matter of careful study in the quiet and solitude of his own room. He should give it ample time, and give all its elements due weight and attention; and he should go to his school prepared to assign each lesson properly. If he shall find something that he had not expected,--for instance, that the lesson for the day is not well learned,--he may modify the lesson he intended to give.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER XVII.

LESSONS.--Concluded.

Hearing Lessons.

--Having assigned a reasonable lesson, which the clearness and precision that we have indicated, the teacher should see to it that the lesson is properly recited when the time for recitation comes.
PROMPTNESS.--The class should be called at the exact moment indicated by the programme. When they are assembled, no time should be lost in calling the roll, in adjusting books, in inquiries as to the limits of the lesson, etc.,--nor should any member of the class be asked if he is prepared. If, for any good reason, any pupil has failed to prepare his lesson, let him rise at once, give his reason, and ask to be excused; otherwise, it is to be presumed that all are ready, and all should feel responsible for the lesson as it was assigned.

In any class, or school, that does not contain more than forty members, there is no need for a roll-call. Let each pupil have his particular place, and a glance ought to enable the teacher to know if he is in his place.

Let the recitation begin at once, with a brisk movement, and let it continue briskly till the end is reached or the time has expired. What was said about the habit of rapidity applies here in full force. At the end, let the class be dismissed as promptly as it was called.
RIGIDNESS.--When a lesson, reasonable in kind and length, has been assigned in the way we have indicated, the teacher should be satisfied with nothing less than complete work. One of the most common, and most serious, faults of our teachers is that they accept such miserably poor work,--they often commend what should be heartily condemned. If twenty places have been assigned for a lesson in geography, the recitation of nineteen only is not good,--nor of twenty even, if the answer comes hesitatingly, slowly, and uncertainly. Nor, if ten examples in arithmetic constitute the lesson, should the work be pronounced well done when only nine are solved, nor when the processes are slovenly or some of the results in accurate. The immediate evils in such a case are not the most serious; they are not to be compared with the habit formed of meeting responsibilities imperfectly, or of being satisfied with inaccurate work.
THE PUPIL ON HIS FEET.--In reciting, the pupil should stand on his own feet, both literally and figuratively. The following are some of the reasons why a pupil should stand to recite: First, He can be heard better; especially is this true if the class is large. Second, He feels a greater sense responsibility standing; when he is on his feet he becomes conspicuous,--the onus of the work is thrown entirely on him. He is likely to make more careful statements, and to make them with more deliberation. Nor is this a matter confined to pupils in a class: it accords with a general principle. A man will often shout out from a crowded audience what he would not stand forth and say deliberately before the same people. If the pupil can not answer a question, never suffer him to say carelessly, "I'd'n'know," from his seat. Make him stand, and say distinctly, "I do not know." The chances are that he will be more likely to know the next time. A class of small children may well stand during the whole recitation. The time should be brief, as we have said, and the standing will be a relief to them. If the class is large, or difficult, it is often best for the teacher to stand; in such a case, he can work more effectively on his feet. Both teacher and pupils should stand erect, on both feet, without leaning on any person or thing.
Figuratively , the pupil should be on his own feet,--that is, he should recite without aid from any source whatever. We are not saying merely that he should not look in his book, nor be prompted by his fellows; this is so obvious that we need not mention it. Not unfrequently teachers themselves guide shrewd pupils entirely through their recitations without a suspicion that they are doing so. This may be done by the words that they supply from time to time; but it may be done without speaking a word. The teacher's nods or smiles or frowns are often a complete index to the character of the pupil's work; and it is a curious study to see a shrewd, lazy pupil watch such a teacher's face, while he feels his way through the recitation of a subject that he does not half understand. When the teacher has given the pupil his topic, or asked the question to be answered, his face should be unmoved as that of the Sphinx till the pupil has completed his work. An exception may be made, of course, when the pupils are little children.
Nor should other members of the class make demonstrations to show whether the one who is reciting is going right or wrong. No raising of hands should be allowed till the pupil has finished his recitation. The pupil who raises his hand may be wrong in thinking that a mistake has been made; in any case, mischief can only result. If the one reciting is timid, the raising of a classmate's hand, whether there be reason for it or not, is likely to confuse him; if he is shrewd and tricky, the raising of a hand the moment he makes a mistake may enable him to recover himself when he ought to fail. Often, he knows that one of two answers is correct, but he is not sure which is right. If raising hands be allowed, you will see him try one of the answers cautiously, looking slyly out of the corner of his eye; on the first appearance of a hand rising, he changes to the other answer in the most prompt and confident way, and comes off victorious.
When a pupil's recitation is finished, those who have criticisms may show hands,--only with a class of small children should it be permitted sooner. When an ill-prepared pupil is floundering in his work, the teacher is often prompted to help him, from sympathy or mistaken kindness. But true and wise kindliness will let him struggle on, or fail even; only in this way can he be taught to depend upon himself. Sometimes, however, the teacher's laziness or impatience prompts him to recite for his pupil; it is quicker and easier for the teacher to make the recitation than to wait for the pupil to do it.
QUESTIONING.--This is very important part of the teacher's work; skill here is a very valuable kind of skill. If the text-book has questions printed in it, it is rarely best to use them; they may aid the pupil in preparing his lesson, but in recitation other questions should generally be put. When the question in the book is used, let it be changed in form; if, for instance, the question is, "What cape [is] at the southern extremity of South America?" put it in this way: "Where is Cape Horn?" Leading questions should not be asked,--that is, questions which by their form indicate what answer is expected. The lesson must be so conducted that the pupil shall do his own thinking.
In a good recitation, the pupil does much the larger part of the talking. He should be required to use good language in his answers; but it should generally be other language than that of the book. The contrary course is likely to result in "parrot" recitation, to a greater or less degree. If the pupil makes a mistake in his language, it is generally best to let him finish his statement before calling on him to correct his language; but the teacher must be very careful not to let the mistake pass uncorrected. If, however, the mistake is one that the same pupil makes habitually, he should be stopped instantly, on every occasion, until the habit is broken up.
Questions calling for a general answer form all the class must be used sparingly and cautiously. When a class is timid or dull, such questions may be of use,-so, also, when "drilling" is the purpose. But for the purpose of "testing," they are wholly untrustworthy; the lazy pupil who knows nothing of the lesson adds his voice to the general sound, and so covers up his delinquency. But, even when he has no intention to deceive, his unprepared condition may be hidden form his own mind till he is called on to make a full statement individually.
Order.-- The order in which the questions shall be given to the class is a very important matter. If they are passed around the class in the same invariable order, it will happen, sometimes, that shrewd and lazy pupils will prepare to answer no question but those that will fall on their "turn." But the most honest pupil is likely to let his attention wander when he has answered his question, and knows that some time will elapse before he will again be called on. When this order is followed, the person whose turn it is to answer will usually be the only one who is reciting at the moment, whereas all the class should be reciting, --one orally, the others mentally. It is often well to stop the pupil who is talking, in the midst of a sentence, and require some other pupil to begin exactly where the first left off. If it is understood that this is likely to be done at any moment, probably all the class will follow the recitation closely.
In order to avoid the routine in questioning that we have criticized, it is well for the teacher to propound his question, and then ask at random for some one to answer it. But he must be very careful, when he "skips around" his class in this way, that he does not neglect any of the members. He will be tempted to call on the bright and ready pupils most frequently, but he must remember that the other pupils need most the discipline that will be gained by reciting.

Some teachers are in the habit of inviting the pupils who can answer a question to indicate that fact by raising their hands. This is very well when the teacher is developing a subject; but, when the class are reciting a lesson on which they are supposed to be prepared, it is wholly wrong. It should be understood that the teacher expects every one to be prepared.

On reviews or examinations, it is well to assign the questions or topics in some way by lot. The teacher who has been with a class a term, generally knows whether any pupil can answer any given question; so it follows that, if he distribute the questions as he chooses, he will either put them to such pupils as he know to be able to answer them, or he must deliberately lead some one to fail by giving him a question that he knows he can not answer. But, if he distribute the questions by lot, he relieves himself of all responsibility, and can not be charged with unfairness, whatever may be the result. If pupils know that they will be examined in this way, they are more likely to be careful to prepare on all the questions or topics pertaining to the subject in hand.

Oral Instruction.

--By this we do not mean the explanations and additional information already spoken of, but rather something entirely apart from the text-book,--the developing before the class, or the school, of a subject not yet studied by the pupils in any book. Considerable work of this kind should be done in every school; this will be apparent, if we think for a moment how many topics there are on which pupils ought to be instructed, but which are not treated of directly in any of their set lessons. A few suggestions will be given in respect to work of this sort.
NOT TOO MUCH MATTER.--Most teachers who attempt oral lessons undertake to give too much at a time. They are likely to forget that minds, especially for children, can not grasp and master a great deal of new matter at once. A teacher is especially liable to err in this way when he presents a subject with which he is very familiar. He forgets that what seems so easy to him may be very difficult when presented for the first time. Here we might repeat what was said about looking at lessons from the pupil's "point of view."
WELL MAPPED OUT.--The teacher who is to give an oral lesson should go before his class with the matter clearly mapped out in his own mind, and perhaps drawn out in writing, in the form of a scheme. He should have clearly determined what points he proposes to reach, and in what order they should be reached. In proper oral teaching, there must be a free conference between teacher and pupils,--questions must be asked and answers be given by both parties. Of course, one can not determine beforehand what the entire conversation will be, as we find it laid down in some Manuals on "Oral Teaching" and "Object Lessons." An attempt to make the conversation conform strictly to some prescribed pattern will make an oral lesson more mechanical, dull, and unproductive than the most formal recitation of lessons memorized from a tolerable text-book. But the landmarks of the lesson, the points to be reached, may be settled before hand, as well as the exact and clear language in which to state the conclusions when they shall have been found.
REACH THE POINTS.--As the conversation must be a free one, if the teacher is not cautious he may find some side question suggested that will draw him off from his line of though to such an extent that he will not put the points he intended before his class. It requires some thought and skill in the teacher to treat such side issues in a reasonable and intelligent way, and still to withstand their tendency to "switch him off his track."
SEE THAT THEY ARE UNDERSTOOD.--The teacher may have reached his points in his own mind, and may have put his conclusions before his class; but he should not dismiss the subject tell he has ascertained that he has been correctly understood.

A story will illustrate the danger against which we are warning. A Sunday-school teacher undertook to explain the meaning of faith to his class in this way: He called their attention to a boat floating on the river, in full view from the window. He said, "Boys, do you see the boat?" "Yes, sir." "Can you see the bottom of the boat?" "No, sir." "Do you know what is on the bottom of the boat?" "No, sir." "If I should tell you that there is a leg of mutton in the boat, would your believe it?" "Yes, sir." "Could you see it?" "No, sir." But you would believe it is there?" "Yes, sir." "Well," said he, "that would be faith." Like a good teacher, on the next Sunday he brought up the review before going forward with the new lesson. "Boys," said he, "who can tell me what faith is, this morning?" Many hands were raised. "Johnny, you may tell." "A leg of mutton in a boat, sir."

CALL AGAIN FOR WHAT IS GIVEN.--In oral lessons, as everywhere else, the good teacher will impress it on his pupils that they must be responsible for reproducing what has been given them. Failures in this regard are very common; probably more than half of all that is put before students orally, from the lectures in the college and the professional school down to the object lessons in the primary school, is wholly lost, because the pupil does not expect to be made responsible for it. A good teacher of children and youth always reaps where he sows; and his pupils are lead to know that such will be the case before they have been with him a very long time.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER XVIII.

TEACHING PARTICULAR SUBJECTS.

THIS is not a book of methods. We shall not enter extensively into the modes of teaching the ordinary studies of the school; but we shall merely attempt to point out some of the aims to be kept in view, and some of the principle that should guide the work.

Reading.

--This subject should claim our attention first, as reading is the key to all the rest; nor is it the key to school-room studies alone, but to all the vast stores of knowledge that wise men have embalmed in books. Moreover, oral reading, when its quality is good, is a means of enjoyment to others, and of high aesthetic culture, like music, painting, and sculpture. What, then, is reading?
DEFINITIONS.--F. W. Parker says, "Reading is getting thought by means of written or printed words arranged in sentences." "Oral reading is the vocal expression of thought that is gained by written or printed words." As an amendment to these excellent statements, we suggest that feeling or emotion, as well as thought, may be, and generally should be, derived from written or printed language, and it should be expressed in oral reading.
Reading is Talking from a Book. --We offer this as a good, short definition of oral reading. Mere calling of words, however correctly done, is not reading. But when the reader, having gained from the written or printed word the thought and feeling there expressed, delivers that thought and feeling just as he would had they originated in his own mind, he is reading. Hence, oral reading implies two things: 1st, The power to gain from the written or printed page the thought and feeling expressed there; 2d, The power of so delivering the words orally that the same though and feeling shall be awakened in the hearer.
PRIMARY TEACHING.--In teaching reading, as in teaching any thing else, the work will not be rightly done unless we begin with the learner's present stock of knowledge and his present power to do, and go on systematically from that starting place. What, then, is the status of the ordinary child as he enters school for the first time? He has already gained much knowledge through his senses. He has learned a great number of words, and he has learned to combine them properly in sentences. If he has heard nothing but correct speech, he may be able to talk elegantly. He has learned to express his ideas and thoughts and feelings with a wonderful propriety of pitch, tone, emphasis, and inflection. How often a roomful of grown people are moved to smile by the naturalness of a child's expression when he talks out of his own thought and heart!
Evidently, then, the first work of a child in learning to read is to learn to translate the written or printed signs,--to associate the symbols that appeal to the eye with the words that appeal to the ear. Whatever aids in this work of association is helpful,--any thing else is a hindrance.
How is it best to begin this work? Negatively, not by teaching the alphabet; these letters have no connection with any thing in the child's mind. Not by the immediate use of books, or cards, or charts; an introductory work should prepare for the use of these.
A METHOD.--Take a real object with which the child is familiar, and in which he is interested; it may be a cat, or dog, etc. Have the object itself, a toy representation of it, or a picture of it,--or all of them,--actually present. Talk with the child about the object; get him to talk about it. Call his attention to the spoken word that represents the object; with this he is already familiar. Put now the corresponding word on the blackboard in neat script. Point to the word, and let him point to the object, naming it at the same time. Let him attempt to reproduce the word on his slate. Introduce every variety of exercise that your ingenuity will suggest, to make the form of the word familiar to him, and to strengthen the association between the written symbol and the spoken word.
Proceed in this way, very slowly, day by day, until he has learned the written words corresponding to the names of five or six familiar objects. Next, give him a few familiar verbs, like run, sit, pat, sleep, etc., in a similar way, letting him perform the action indicated in response to the written word. You are now prepared to put short and familiar sentences on the board, using the nouns and verbs already learned, and letting the child learn the articles, prepositions, and connectives by sight, as they are needed. Impress upon the child the thought that you are "talking with your chalk or pencil." Let him read the sentences you write, and perform the acts any of the sentences indicate.
Do not Read the Sentences for Him. -- If your work is slowly and carefully done, he will read correctly out of his own thought and imagination: this is a real reading. If you read the sentence for him, he will imitate your spoken words, perhaps with no conception whatever of their meaning. This will lead at once to the parrot-like imitation that so often passes for genuine reading, even with the professional elocutionist.
Several weeks or months should be given to this work, and not more than forty or fifty words should be attempted in the time. The pupil should write the words he learns, on his slate,--at first singly, then combined into sentences containing them, and has learned to make them on his slate, he may be taught the printed equivalents for his script. Let the teacher first print the words neatly beside the same in script.
There is no need for the child to print.
Now the child is ready for his books and charts; but he must not be asked to learn new words too rapidly.
ANALYSIS.--During all this time, no attempt has been made to teach the child his letters,--that is, to analyze the written words. Nor has be been taught to analyze the spoken words. Now, perhaps the time has come for both. He really knows his letters; but he has not learned to distinguish them, nor to call them by name. But, if the previous work has been done well, he can very soon do both. Nor should he omit to learn the order of the letters in the alphabet.
He may be taught the analysis of the spoken words, also, at about the same time. He knows the elementary sounds, and he can make them with more or less success; but he has not learned to distinguish them. The teacher may lead him to do this by "slow pronunciation." As a single example, let the teacher say: "P-u-t o-n th-e c-a-p," requiring the pupil to suit the action to the word. [Do not name these letters; give the sounds. ] When the pupil has learned to distinguish the separate sounds, he may then be taught to make them. He is now ready to begin the arduous task of learning to associate the elements of the written and spoken words,--that is, the phonic elements with the letters that represent them.
Do not Speak of the "Sounds of the Letters. "--Letters have no sounds. Letters represent sounds which were made and recognized long before letters were invented.
The method of teaching primary reading outlined above is no mere theory; it is essentially the one used by our most progressive and successful teachers. Of course, the details will vary indefinitely.
ADVANCED READING.--The teaching of reading to advanced pupil will vary greatly in mode from the teaching of primary reading, but the same principles should guide the work. True oral reading proceeds from within, outward,--never in the reverse order. First, there must be a mastery, and an appropriation, of the thought and feeling; then, there must be a proper expression of the same. All formal rules are as futile for direction in reading as they are n speech; all marking of emphases, of inflections, and of the quality of the voice, pitch, etc., is sure to hamper the reader who attempts to follow such marks in reading.
Directions as to the length of pause or kind of inflection at the marks of punctuation, are absurd.
The rules of syntax serve an admirable purpose, no doubt, but he who attempts to think of them as he speaks will make a poor speaker. The same may be said about the "Rules for Reading."
Proper drill in the use of the vocal organs, exercises in pitch, power, emphasis, inflection, quality of tone, etc., will serve a very useful purpose as drill simply, or as preparatory work. But, when one "reads orally," he should first master the thought and feeling of his author; then, with no consciousness but of that thought and feeling, give forth the true expression. If one be taught, from the beginning, to read in the way we have indicated, he will never be content to read, like Hamlet, "Words, words, words," when he grows older.
Furthermore if he has learned to get the meaning from the printed page, if he is accustomed from the beginning to have his inner nature stirred by what he reads, he is not likely either to give up reading, or to develop a fondness for the vapid, worthless literature that appeals to the weak only. We think that a correct teaching of reading has much to do in solving the question of the appreciation and love to good literature.

Writing.

--We have recommended that the pupil begin to write as soon as he begins to read. We believe this agrees with the laws of the child's nature. In order to write a word, he needs to study its form, and then to train his muscles to imitate that form with chalk or pencil. His perceptive powers are keen; why may he not sue them in studying the forms of words as well as in any other way? His tendency to use his muscles is irrepressible,--they fairly "ache" to be used; why may they not be used in copying forms of the words he has studied? Besides, he has a great desire to do what he sees his teacher do; why not train him to imitate her production of written words? Furthermore, experience proves that it is entirely practicable for children to learn to write thus early. At first, the pupils' attempts will be simply attempts to imitate without any analysis or description. But, as soon as they have learned their letters, they will be ready to practice and to describe the analysis of the letters as taught in any good system of penmanship.
Let the teacher choose good, but the simplest, forms of the letters she uses in the words she gives her little pupils to copy. Let her treat their first efforts very leniently. Let her allow them a great deal of practice; it will enable them to pass many hours happily, instead of spending them in the torture of "sitting still."
We would suggest the following rules as important to be observed by the teacher:
First. --Select the simplest forms for the letters, and teach but one form for each.
Second. --Put no false forms before the little pupil, and remove in the quietest and quickest way such false forms as he may make.
Third. --Proceed slowly and insist upon very careful work; fully recognize and encourage all effort, and give reasonable success its full meed [sic] of praise.
It is very desirable that the pupil early acquire the power to write in order that he may practice "talking with the pencil," as well as understood what others say with the pencil. In this way, he will grow into the habit of "composition" as naturally and as easily as he becomes accustomed to hear and to use the forms of oral speech. There is one great advantage in the child's expressing himself by writing over expression by speech alone, he is more likely to show his individuality; the tendency is less strong to imitate merely.

Spelling.

--Of course, in merely copying the forms of words the pupil begins his work in spelling, even though he may not yet have learned to distinguish the letters. When he comes to make such distinction, he is studying spelling more effectively. And his is studying it in the only way that is practical,--that is, as he has occasion to use it. He learns to spell each word when he learns the word; he gets the correct picture of it in his mind, and he learns to make that picture. Moreover, he learns the form of the word in connection with its meaning; this is the only reasonable way. There is no occasion for the absurd practice of spelling lists of abstract words.
By this method, the child forms the habit of looking at words in their parts,--of taking cognizance of the letters that make up a written word at the time he learns the word. Why is not his sight as truly trained in analyzing a word as in analyzing a flower?
If the plan of learning to spell every word as the word is acquired is kept up in all the pupil's course, as it ought to be, he will be able to spell all the words in his vocabulary; he has no occasion to spell any others. The problem of learning to spell is solved, and it is solved in the right way.
There is no use for the spelling-book.
By the process of primary teaching that we have recommended, the pupil is learning to read, to write, and to spell at the same time; this is right, and one process will help the others. Yet it will be observed that reading is emphasized first, then writing, then spelling; this, we think, is the right order. And the simplest uses of capitals and punctuation marks may also be taught at the same time.
OLDER PUPILS.--The teacher who has to deal with pupils whose primary education has been different will find need for exercises in spelling. But the most profitable work will still be done by writing. Let the word to be spelled be pronounced clearly and correctly, and but once. Let the writing be with ink, and allow no changes nor erasures. Let the work be carefully corrected, and the missed words be re-written properly.
Oral spelling is of but little value.
As a rule, the spelling of words in English must be learned individually. Something may be gained by grouping in families, by studying prefixes and suffixes, and by forming derivatives. When one is able to study the etymology of words, that may help his spelling; for instance, one is not likely to misspell exhilarate , if he remembers its connection with hilarity ; or exonerate , if he connects it with onerous .
There are very few rules for spelling that are of any practical value. We know of none except these three:
First. --Final silent e is omitted on taking a suffix beginning with a vowel.
Second. --Final y, preceded by a consonant, is changed to i on taking any suffix which does not begin with i.
Third. --Monosyllables and words accented on the last syllable, ending in a single consonant preceded by a single vowel, double the final consonant on taking a suffix beginning with a vowel.
The exceptions to these rules are very few, although every one of them has some exceptions; these exceptions should be very carefully learned.

Drawing.

--Reading and writing are modes of expression; and drawing, in its elements, should be taught to children as a mode of expression also. Its relation to art may properly be ignored in ordinary classes of beginners. The wish to draw, to "make" something, is almost universal with children. Many of us can remember when it was a crime in school to indulge in this propensity. A better day has dawned, and children are now allowed to beguile many a weary hour with slate and pencil. A little care, encouragement, and instruction from a wise teacher can develop this taste in children into an efficient and pleasing mode of expression. Lead the children to draw simple forms, help then to see the characteristic lines and to reproduce them; encourage effort, recognize any real success, and insist upon slow and careful work.

Singing.--

This, too, is a mode of expression in which most children take delight. Unlike the others, it is primarily an expression of the feelings. Care should be taken that the little songs shall be simple, but that they shall not be nonsense. The children should learn them by rote at first, and should be taught to sing them with correct expression. Do not suffer them to shout nor scream in their singing. Encourage a clear delivery of the words.
It has been found that children can learn simple musical notation very early; but it is not our purpose to speak of that in this connection.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER XIX.

TEACHING PARTICULAR SUBJECTS.--Concluded .

Grammar.

--Many text-books on grammar contain this sentence: "English grammar teaches us to speak and to write the English language correctly." It is certain that as grammar is commonly studied this is not true. Many who are most expert in the processes of analysis and parsing are exceedingly clumsy and inaccurate in their use of the English language. The distinction between practical language lessons and the study of technical grammar is a very obvious one, and the teacher can not afford to ignore it, nor to lose sight of it.
LANGUAGE LESSONS.--The child learns to talk correctly by talking correctly. If he hears nothing but good language, he acquires the habit of using good language unconsciously. But the great trouble is, that few or no children hear none but correct speech. Hence, the teacher needs to exert himself to correct the evil effects of incorrect language heard by the child at home, in the playground, on the streets, etc. Lessons in language are the first to be given in school; training in the awakening of thought and in the art of expressing thought is the chief work of the primary teacher. Nor should the training in the art of expression be relinquished or relaxed during the whole period of pupilage. This is not the place to point out methods of doing this work,--we simply insist on the absolute importance of it. One who inquires earnestly how to do it will find many helpful books in the market, but his success will depend mainly upon two things: First, The correctness of his own speech; Second, His ingenuity in devising ways of leading his pupils into habits of expressive and correct language.
TECHNICAL GRAMMAR.--The successful pursuit of this study demands a good degree of maturity of mind, and a previous training in the processes of reflection and analysis. Hence, this should be one of the last studies to be taken up in a country school. In our graded schools, it should be deferred until the pupil is nearly ready for the High School,--if, indeed, it should be undertaken at all before the pupil enters the High School.
When the study is undertaken, the pupil should be led to an acquaintance with the laws of English speech by an inductive study of the English language itself. As in any other inductive study, a good text-book may aid; but it must be a text-book made from a study of the English tongue, not a Latin Grammar reconstructed to fit the English language. When the study is properly pursued by pupils who are prepared for it by age and previous training, few studies, if any, will surpass grammar in interest or profit.

Arithmetic.--

The first thing to be said about arithmetic is that it takes much too large a proportion of the time in a majority of our schools. Yet, while this is true, very few pupils become really accurate and expert in the practice of arithmetic. We think there are several reasons for this, some of which will be given.
Sufficient care is not taken to teach the pupil numbers in themselves,--he is hurried too soon into notation, and a manipulation of abstract symbols. [F.W.Parker writes, "Discriminate very sharply between learning number and learning the language of number. The former must precede the latter. If I am any judge of results, nine tenths of the teaching of arithmetic consists in teaching figures alone, with little or no regard to numbers." -- this is a footnote ] He is not drilled upon the fundamental processes until he thoroughly masters them. The subject is made too complicated; operations involving the same principles and essentially the same processes are treated as though there were no likeness between them. The multiplication of "rules" and "cases" is needless, confusing, and discouraging. Not enough practice is given in examples from real life, such as the pupil does not find classified and arranged under their respective "rules." Usually, the pupil has the "answer" before him, and works to obtain the figures which express the answer, instead of solving his problem in a practical and independent manner. Fully one third of the text-book is usually made up of matter wholly irrelevant, consisting either of preposterous puzzles or of work that is special and technical. Why should the special work of the banker, the custom-house officer, etc., enter into the general course of instruction in arithmetic? If the pupil thoroughly master the principles, and become quick and accurate in calculation, the work of the common school is done; the special applications of these principles may well be deferred till he enters the bank or the counting-room.
PRIMARY WORK.--The first steps in arithmetic should lead the pupil to a full and thorough knowledge of a few of the smallest numbers. A child may be able to count to ten, who does not know ten. He does not know ten till he knows thoroughly all the numbers that will make ten, and can put together all possible unequal numbers to make ten, as well as all equal numbers that will give the same result. He must know also all the ways in which ten can be destroyed, either by taking away unequal numbers, or by withdrawing equal numbers.
In all this elementary work, he must deal with objects, not with abstractions. Let him count objects, always putting four things together when he says "four" in his counting, etc. Often the child's counting is a mere saying of empty words; when his "three" is not an empty word, it often means only the third instead of an aggregate of three ones. It is thought by many experienced teachers that a child does well if he really learns the first ten numbers in one year. But, whatever time it may take, his first business should be to learn these numbers thoroughly; he is not ready for notation, nor for any use of figures beyond a simple writing of these numbers, until this work is done.
WRITTEN WORK.--When the pupil passes on to written work in arithmetic, he should be shown that the chief use of figures is to enable him to make computations with numbers too large for him to grasp mentally,--the thought necessary to lead to a correct process is just the same as in the case of small numbers, where no figures are used. There is no reason for the wide distinction between "mental" and "written" arithmetic.
In beginning the use of figures in computation, let the child first master the process thoroughly; the reasons for "carrying," for "inverting the divisor," etc., may come later,--first, how ; then, why . A very thorough drill on the simple operations, the "ground rules," should be given; slow progress here, if sure, is true haste. The pupil should not only learn his multiplication table completely, but he should learn the prime factors of all numbers as high as one hundred, and he should learn the squares as far as the square of twenty-five at least. Usually, the subject of factors and factoring is passed over quite too slightly.
He should be encouraged to use short methods whenever it is possible, and he should be taught to be on the lookout for opportunities to use them. The distinct principles of arithmetic are very few, and the pupil should be led to see what operations rest on the same principle, once for all; and then he should be held to recognize that principle in all cases to which it applies. He should be taught to be satisfied with nothing short of accuracy; if he has made a mistake in his work, that work should not be erased till the mistake has been found and corrected. He should be taught to avoid frequent changes in his work; let him put his figures down with the thought that they are not to be changed, but are to stand as first written. It may be well to forbid him to use an eraser in any case without special permission. None but neat work should ever be accepted by the teacher.

Algebra.--

The study of algebra in our common schools should aim chiefly to throw light on the principles and processes of arithmetic, and to train the pupils' power of abstraction and reasoning. It is not of much consequence to find the length of a pole that is partly in the mud, partly in the water, and partly in the air!
The first business in learning algebra is to master the notation; every algebraic term is a word or phrase in algebraic language,--the equation is the sentence. Finding an equation for a problem is translating that problem from common language into the language of algebra.
Great care must be taken that technical terms do not obscure thought; the pupil should be asked to give and to illustrate their meaning very frequently. It is often well to forbid the use of technical terms for a time; let the pupil describe his operations on an equation without once saying "transpose," "change signs," "collect terms," etc. The pupil should often be required to translate formulas into rules, and rules into formulas; in short, he should be led to see that, in elementary algebra, he is simply using a briefer and more general language than he has found in his arithmetic.

Geometry.--

Dr. Thomas Hill, in his "True Order of Studies," shows that the study of form may well come before algebra, or primary arithmetic even,--it is a study for young children. This is not properly a study of geometry, but it is an excellent preparation for that study. In the early steps in geometry, great care must be taken that the pupil does not fail to see the relation of what he is now studying to the things that have claimed his thought and attention previously. As in algebra, he must not allow his thought to be clouded by technicalities. It is generally best to forbid the used of the same letters in the same places on the figures used in the class demonstration that were found in the text-book. It is well, also, to encourage the pupil to draw his figure in as many forms as he can, only taking care that they conform to the hypothesis as given.
Few studies, if any, will do more to develop the mind of the pupil than will geometry when it is properly taught, and the teaching of this subject might well occupy much time that is frittered away over the puzzles in the back part of our "higher" arithmetics.

Geography.--

No other study, except reading, can be made more interesting to the child, or can be made to lead out the thoughts in all directions more successfully than geography. And yet, as it is often taught, no other study is so dry or profitless. The trouble is that is made a mere memorizing of words, or at best an attempt to stuff the memory with a multitude of unrelated, often unimportant, facts. In no study, perhaps, is the principle that we should begin with the child where we find him, more grossly violated than in geography. What has the first part of most Primary Geographies to do with any thing the child has ever seen, heard, or dreamed of? When he comes to a map, what is done to enable him to put any real meaning into the queer conglomeration of form and color? The result is that he learns words about a world he never saw, and he hunts out names on a map that means nothing beyond the thing itself. He shuts up his book and map, leaves them in his desk, and goes out into the real world hardly thinking that what he now meets has any connection with what he has left.
PRIMARY WORK.--A certain amount of preliminary work should be done in the primary classes, to prepare the pupil for the study of geography,--copious and thorough exercises in learning direction, distance, and relative position are what we mean. Then, he needs to learn the language by which these things are expressed in maps and charts. Let the teacher, with his little pupils, make a survey of the school-room, observing the directions, distances, and relative positions of the parts of the room and the objects in it. Then, let the teacher make a plan or map of the school-room on the blackboard, properly representing all these things.
It is well to make this map on the north side of the room.
This map may be made the key to the reading of all maps; it is a symbol to the pupil of something he has seen; and through it he may learn how to get knowledge of what he can not see by the use of similar symbols. A map of the school-room should be followed by a map of the school-yard, then by one of the neighborhood or the village.
Other things in the neighborhood should now be studied: the familiar brook must be made the type of rivers; the hill, of the mountains; the plain, of the prairies, etc. The business of the neighborhood must be made the medium for understanding the occupations of men the world over. The political, social, and religious affairs of the village or town must be made the key to the politics, religion and social life of the nations.
When this stock of knowledge of his immediate surroundings is made conscious and systematic to the child, then he is prepared to enter on the study of geography.
The usual progress of the child is from the whole to parts, and now he is prepared for some lessons upon the earth as a whole. Here a globe is of prime value; only, care must be taken that the pupil regard the globe as a symbol,--his thought must not be allowed to stop with the globe itself. Suppose the teacher has no globe? Use a foot-ball or a pumpkin; an ingenious teacher can always find means of illustration. Make no attempt at this stage of the work to teach mathematical geography.
When the pupil has done the preliminary work, and has some knowledge of the earth as a body, he may then enter upon the study of the countries of the world; he should begin with his own. The map should be made on the basis of his study,--and the map should be transferred, as it were, from the paper to the mind; to do this, study the map, and draw it. Map drawing should be a prominent part of geographical work from beginning to end.
Let the earth's surface receive attention now; modeling in clay will be helpful in learning about the surface. Do not attempt too great minuteness in the maps nor in description; select only a few things to be learned, and those the most important, and teach them thoroughly. Enrich the study by pictures, anecdotes, stories of travel, imaginary journeys, etc. Appeal to the imagination in all ways. All true geographical knowledge lies in the mind in a series of pictures. And the teacher who succeeds in setting the imagination of his pupils in geography to working actively and judiciously, will find no lack of interest or progress.

History.--

This study is very closely related to geography. There is the same necessity for choosing wisely out of the multitude of facts that might be learned; there is the same call for the imagination to work. Geography may be made more interesting by teaching something of history with it; and the study of geography must be kept up in history; map drawing is just as important here as there. Historical study for quite young children must be mostly in the form of biography.
In higher classes in history, some dates must be learned; let them be few and well-chosen, and let them be learned thoroughly. Let the study of history deal much with the every-day lives of men, and as little as may be with their wars and fightings.

Natural Science.--

But little, if any thing, can be done in the study of natural science in our common schools. But, if the senses are properly trained, if plants and animals are studied, if geography is properly taught, if the pupils are trained and encouraged to make and arrange collections, a sure foundation will be laid for studying these subjects in the right way when time and opportunity shall serve.
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER XX.

MISCELLANEOUS.

The Community.

--It depends primarily upon the community whether our public schools shall be what they ought to be or not. With us, no "paternal" government can reach down and make the schools greatly different from what the people desire. The people determine how much money shall be spent for schools; and, throught the officers whom they choose, they determine what pay the teacher shall receive, and what shall be the general character of the work done in the schools.
Where the people are awake and intelligent in school affairs, it can rarely fail that good schools will be found. Where the people have little interest, or mistake in their notions of what constitutes a good school, there can hardly be a good school except by a kind of accident.
It is certain that, in many places, the people are not as earnest as they should be to have their children well taught, nor have they the knowledge that they ought to have as to what constitutes good teaching. Much is done to fit teachers for their work, to improve text-books and apparatus, to build good school-houses, etc., while little seems to be done to disseminate a more correct knowledge respecting education among the people, or to arouse them to demand better work in the school-room.

The Teacher's Relations.--

Our purpose, however, is to speak chiefly of the relations of the teacher to the community.
TO SCHOOL OFFICERS.--The teacher should understand and fully recognize his relations to the school officers by whom he is employed, and under whom he works. He must admit that the law make them his superiors, and gives the power of ultimate control into their hands. They may be ignorant, prejudiced, or overbearing; but, if he is wise, the teacher will enter into no controversy with them. If he can not come to such an understanding with them as shall permit him to go forward peaceably in such a performance of his duties as his judgment dictates, he would better close his connection with them, and seek another field.
Usually, however, if a teacher really understands his business, and if his character is such as to command the respect of others, he can secure harmony and co-operation form his school officers by such a combination of suavity, firmness, and good sense as would give success in other relations with men. At any rate, no school can be expected to be very prosperous without harmony and co-operation between the teacher and the school authorities.
TO PARENTS.--There is much truth in the saying that the teacher is in loco parentis, --in place of the parent. The work of the school is supplementary to the work of the home; the school is not a substitute for the home. Teachers sometimes assume that the whole work of education is in their hands; on the other hand, they are sometimes held responsible for the whole work of the mental and moral training of the children. This is a grave mistake; the teacher can only enter into the parents' labors at best, and he should be held responsible only for the part of the work that fairly belongs to him.
The work of the parent and teacher is one. From this, it follows that the closest understanding and harmony between parent and teacher is of the greatest importance. The teacher should be active in bringing about this harmony.
First, By visiting the parents, not merely as a teacher, but socially as a friend. On the occasion of such visits, it may be proper for him to talk of the condition of the school, of his plans for its improvement, and of the condition and progress of the pupils from the family he is visiting. Such statements as he makes on these subjects should be frank and truthful. But his influence will be greatly strengthened if he can converse on other matters of interest besides the school. It is no compliment to teachers that so many people feel that they must introduce school topics when they meet teachers in a social way. But it is to be feared that the habit has grown up because so many teachers have been found unable to talk intelligently about anything else.
Second, The teacher should be able to induce the parents to visit the school and to observe its operations. Sometimes a cordial invitation will be all that is necessary. But, if a simple invitation does not accomplish the result, other ways can be found. One of the simplest is to set apart a special time,--say Friday afternoon, --for some kind of an exhibition. No attempt should be made to turn the school into a small theater; let the programme consist largely of readings, compositions, and such other exercises as are proper to the regular work of the school. But let the exercises be carefully chosen, well prepared, and of a sufficient variety to bring out most or all of the pupils. The child who is to have a part in an exercise on such an occasion is very likely to issue an invitation that will bring the mother at least. And the exercises may be so conducted as to exhibit very effectually the spirit, methods, and general progress of the school.
TO THE PEOPLE.--The teacher, especially in a country district, should be a person of influence in the community. It has been suggested that the people often need instruction in matters pertaining to education. Who should be more competent for this than the teacher? Let him be careful, however, that he does not attempt it in any offensive way.
On the occasion of such a school exhibition as we have recommended, a short talk or paper from the teacher may do much; or he may get the people to meet for a discussion of educational topics in the long winter evenings. Such meetings might be quite informal, and they might include several features of a literary and social kind. Skill in the teacher to inaugurate and assist in such gatherings will do much to increase his influence, as well as to benefit the community.
Let him write for the county or village paper. If his articles are thoughtful, and are well prepared, editors will gladly give them a place, and they will be eagerly read. The newspaper is one of the most potent factors in shaping the thought of a community.
We have hinted at one of the ways in which a teacher may do something for the intellectual improvement of the people among whom he labors. He may assist in other improvements, also, such as the founding and promoting of libraries, lecture courses, etc. Nor should he be backward in regard to physical improvements that will tend to beautify a village or a district,--such as planting trees, etc. A wide-awake, intelligent, active teacher may leave a lasting monument to his memory, in the neighborhood where he works, by such means as these. Nor should he be ignorant or indifferent about the business affairs which are so essential to the material prosperity of the community. Nothing will raise him more in the estimation of practical men than to find that he has an intelligent interest in business affairs. At the same time, it will save him from shriveling up into a "mere pedagogue."
Neither should he be a cipher in religious and political matters. Not that he should be a noisy partisan; but it will generally be found that a teacher who has convictions on such subjects, and who takes a manly stand according to his convictions, will receive more respect, even from those not of his sect or party, than one who is indifferent, or who attempts to identify himself with all parties. The teacher should be a Christian and a patriot; but most Christians find it best to identify themselves with some denomination, and most patriots belong to some political party. There is no good reason why the teacher should be an exception.
In short, the teacher should be a man among men,--intelligent, earnest, and active in the things that claim the attention of other good and influential men. What is said here, with some necessary changes, will apply just as well to the teacher who is a woman as to a man.

The "New" Education.--

Of late, it has become common to hear, or to read, the phrase "new education." What does it mean? Strictly speaking, there can be no such thing as a new education. Education is the same thing in all the ages; its principles are unchanging; and its methods must conform to these principles, if they are right methods, however they may vary in form.
The most marked feature of what is called the new education is in regard to the principles of child-nature. It insists that the teacher shall study the nature, the capacity, and the tendencies of the child, and shall adapt the work of instruction accordingly, instead of giving all attention to the subject matter to be taught, or attempting to teach according to preconceived notions of what the child needs and can do. This is what Garfield meant when he said, "The teacher should study the boy more than the book."
Another principle of the "new" education is that it seeks to make the acquisition of knowledge, and all the work of the school, agreeable to the pupil. The human mind naturally craves knowledge, and its acquisition gives the highest pleasure, but it must be real knowledge,--not its semblance, symbols, or husks. It is believed that the work of the school may be so conducted that the pupil may realize at all times that his store of knowledge is increasing, that his powers are strengthening, and that he may rejoice and be glad in his growth. This is a worthy aim, and the teacher can hardly regard it too highly.
Yet, it may be doubted whether the giving of pleasure to the pupils should be made the ultimate or only test in estimating the character of school work. In life, duty often imposes upon us tasks that are not wholly agreeable, although their accomplishment may bring the highest pleasure. It may well be asked whether school should not train us to meet and to do bravely just such tasks?
It is sometimes asked whether a teacher should join freely in the sports and games of his pupils? To our mind, the answer is clearly in the affirmative. Such a course, if judiciously followed, will benefit the pupil; it may improve the character of his sports; it may prevent evils that would other-wise infest the playground; it will cement the bond of union and sympathy between him and his teacher. It will benefit the teacher by bringing him into a closer sympathy with his pupils; it will help him into a closer sympathy with his pupils; it will help him to keep from growing old before his time; it will give him a better insight into the personal characteristics of his pupils than any thing else. But he must join in the sports as an equal; he must not, by the assumption of a dictatorial manner, make his presence on the playground disagreeable; furthermore, it is important that he should be able to play well any game in which he may join. If it be objected that his dignity will suffer from his joining in the pupils' plays, we have only to say that a dignity which can not bear the test of the playground must be of the artificial or false kind. True dignity means genuine worth shown in a worthy way.

Apparatus.--

Every school should be supplied with all that is necessary for the proper work of illustration, but many schools are wofully [sic] lacking in this regard. And, if nothing can be used as apparatus but such as is highly finished, and sold in the markets, the cost is no small drawback to its supply. But an ingenious teacher will find means to illustrate without being wholly dependent on the costly apparatus of the shop; kernels of corn, or beans, or pebbles may take the place of the numeral frame; a pumpkin, of a globe, etc. A little home-made apparatus may answer nearly all purposes in physics, also. All such apparatus has one decided advantage,--the pupil's attention is less likely to be arrested by the apparatus itself; its use as a means to something beyond itself is less likely to be hidden. For instance, the pupil is in less danger of thinking that his combinations of numbers are confined to the numeral frame, if he learns the same combinations by the use of common objects.

Marking.--

Few topics connected with the work of the school have been more discussed of late than the "marking system." Much has been uttered in the way of bitter criticism of it. It is not said directly that schools would be better without any careful record of the attendance, deportment, and scholarship of the pupils; but that seems to be a fair inference, if what is charge to the "system" necessarily belongs to it, and not simply to the abuse of it.
By the marking system, a deliberate record is made of the attendance, deportment, and recitations of the pupils; it is a record of facts as they transpire, or of the teacher's judgments made at a time when there is the latest cause for mistake, --that is, when the matter is freshest in his mind.
ATTENDANCE.--In respect to attendance, the marking should be simply a record of facts. The pupil is present or he is absent,-- he is tardy or he is not. This the marks should show, and this alone. No account must be taken of any reasons for absence or tardiness,--these can not affect the facts of his attendance, but may properly affect his deportment record.
DEPORTMENT.--Here the marks should be a record of the teacher's opinion concerning the pupil's merits or demerits, made at the time of the transactions by which his standing is affected. It is not easy to see how such a record can be an evil, nor how any thing better can be substituted for it. The teacher will have an opinion about the pupil's deportment, and the degrees of its worthiness or unworthiness, and he will sometimes be called on to express that opinion. How can such an opinion be made up better than from the average of daily records?
SCHOLARSHIP.--The statements last made will apply with equal force to the teacher's opinions respecting the scholarship of his pupil. But it may not always be clear, even in the teacher's mind, exactly what the scholarship mark should show. Negatively, it can not show the pupil's disposition towards study; it can not show the degree of effort he has put forth; it can not show absolutely how much he may know about the study in question. It should be simply the written record of the teacher's estimate concerning the relative success of the pupil's efforts at reciting on the given topics. We say the teacher's estimate, for we regard "self-reporting" of either scholarship or deportment as unworthy of serious discussion.
Now, we fail to see the force of the objections urged against a written record of these things. It is said that marking takes much time; but this objection is not pertinent, if it is worth the time it takes. When a pupil recites, the teacher forms some opinion of his performance as it goes on. Why may not that opinion be formed on a numerical scale? And how long will it take to write the figure to express it? It is said that the pupil is led to work for marks. Is that not better than to have no motive; but why need it prevent higher motives from operating in cases where higher motives from operating in cases where higher motives have any influence? Or, shall we discard all motives by the very noblest? It is said that the marks are not always just. This is what we should expect so long as the teachers are fallible. But will the fallible teacher, in the absence of a daily record, be likely to reach conclusions that will be more just? It seems to us that any valid strictures on marking must pertain to the abuse of the system, or to the inherent weakness of the teacher, rather than to the system itself.
We shall not try to indicate the best methods of marking; we shall not discuss the question whether the pupils should be allowed to see their marks; nor shall we discuss the proper and improper uses to be made of the marks. But we believe that, if the true meaning of each kind of marking is kept clearly in view, if the record is carefully and conscientiously made, the marks will serve very valuable purposes; and that it is not possible to find any adequate substitute for them.

Religious Exercises.--

We believe it to be very desirable that a school should be opened by religious exercises when they are genuine, and when they can be had without controversy. But we should much regret to see them prescribed by law, quite as much as we should regret to see them forbidden by law. Most of our states leave the question to be decided by the local authorities; and, in our opinion, this is just where it ought to be left. We think, also, that any teacher who prizes such exercises, and who is allowed to have them, will make a great mistake if he compel any pupil to take part in them, or even to be present, against his own will or the expressed will of his parent or guardian. Religious performances that are forced, or are merely perfunctory, have no value that we can estimate.

Primary Teaching.--

There is some reason to hope that the day is not far distant when no intelligent person will say, "Oh, any body can teach little children." We believe the opinion is gaining ground among our people that the primary schools require the very best teaching talent, and the most careful preparation, and that successful teaching in such schools is entitled to receive the highest compensation. Nowhere else is it more disastrous to attempt to build on a poor foundation than in education; and nowhere else are the results of bad work at the foundation more certainly without remedy. In no other stage of the work can the principles of sound pedagogy be violated with so great damage. Nowhere else in the work are the pupils so open to personal influences, and in no other stage of the work are the teaching influences so exclusively personal. In the primary schools is the place to lay the foundations of a sound character, no less than the foundations of a sound intellectual culture. And people are coming to feel more and more that a sound character is the great outcome of a good education. On all accounts, then, the primary schools demand and should receive the most careful attention.

Teaching, a Profession.--

Teaching can never become a profession in the same strict sense as law or medicine, so long as the majority of our schools are in session but for a few months in the year, and pay such small wages to the teacher; nor so long as the oversight of the work is committed to persons outside of the profession; nor so long as the majority of teachers follow the employment for a few years only. But the time may come when the person who makes teaching a life-work, and who brings to it the talent, energy, and special preparation which other professions demand, will receive all the respect and deference that are considered due to the members of other professions.
How soon this time shall arrive depends chiefly on teachers themselves,--there is no conspiracy on the part of the people to keep teachers below the position to which their worth entitles them. And it is the solemn duty of every teacher to make his full contribution to the sum of influences that shall raise teaching to the height it ought to occupy by virtue of its transcendent importance.

Principles.--

In closing, we will present a few important principles in a compact, aphoristic form:
I. GENERAL PRINCIPLES:

1. Education is a development; it is, in no sense, a creation.
2. Any human power that is under the control of the will can be educated.
3. There is only one way of developing any human power; viz., by wise use, or self-activity.
4. Self-activity in education has two phases; viz., First , From without, inward, --receptive and acquisitive; Second , From within, outward, productive and expressive.
5. The receptive and the productive phases should go together in all the work of education.
6. Self-control is the proper outcome of education; i.e., self-control of the hands (the body), of the head (the intellect), of the heart (the affections, wishes, and purposes).
7. It is a general law that desire precedes acquisition.
8. Learning, or knowledge, is the mind's food; but food strengthens only as it is digested and assimilated.
9. No progress in education is possible without attention.
10. In education, nothing is really ours till it has become habitual to us.
11. In all the work of education, the habits that are formed are more important than the knowledge gained.
12. Human powers develop naturally in a certain order, which should be followed in education.
13. The law of correlation holds with intellectual and moral forces no less than with physical forces; forces may be transferred or transmuted,--they are never lost.
14. A true scheme of education must aim at and include three things; viz., Knowledge, development, and efficiency.
15. A general education, whose object is the making of true manhood or womanhood, should precede a special education, whose subject is to fit for some art, trade, or occupation. Or,
16. The primary object of education is the perfection of the individual.
17. The school is responsible for a part only of the child's education; the pedagogue is co-worker with the parent, the pulpit, the press, and the people. In other words, the school, the home, the church, the printed page, and society,--all take part in the training of the rising generation.

II. SPECIAL PRINCIPLES:

1. The work of education should be suited to the pupil's stage of development.
2. With very young children, train chiefly the senses and the power of expression.
3. With young children, in all their school exercises, something should be given them to do.
4. With young children, the progress should always be from the known to the unknown.
5. With young children, the concrete should precede the abstract.
6. With young children, the particular should precede the general.
7. With young children, give always the idea before the word,--the thing before its symbol.
8. Care should be taken not to confound things with their symbols; the danger of this is greatest with young children, but it is not confined to them.
9. False forms should never be put before young children for correction; such false forms as they make should be removed as quickly and as quietly as possible.
10. Early youth is the best time to commit things to memory,--to "store the mind."
11. It is well for youth to commit to memory some good things not yet fully comprehended.
12. Begin where the child is; all attempts to teach little children will be futile or worse, unless they are adapted to the present state of the children's mind, as regards both knowledge and strength.

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