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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The boys are silent, looking to one another.

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

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

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

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

"What did he do at this time?"

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

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

"And what lesson came after this?"

"Geography."

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

A considerable number rise.

"Did you all recite together?"

"No sir."

"There are two classes then?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And here the young teacher ought to be cautioned against a fault which beginners are very prone to fall into, that of forming unfavorable opinions of some of their pupils from their air and manner, before they see any thing in their conduct which ought to be disapproved. A boy or girl comes to the desk to ask a question, or make a request, and the teacher sees in the cast of countenance, or in the bearing or tone of the individual, something indicating a proud, or a sullen, or an ill-humored disposition, and conceives a prejudice, often entirely without foundation, which weeks perhaps do not wear away. Every experienced teacher can recollect numerous cases of this sort, and he learns, after a time, to suspend his judgment. Be cautious therefore on this point, and in the survey of your pupils which you make during the first few days of your school, trust to nothing but the most sure and unequivocal evidences of character; for many of your most docile and faithful pupils will be found among those whose appearance at first prepossessed you strongly against them.

One other caution ought also to be given. Do not judge too severely in respect to the ordinary cases of misconduct in school. The young teacher almost invariably does judge too severely. While engaged himself in hearing a recitation, or looking over a "sum," he hears a stifled laugh, and, looking up, sees the little offender struggling with the muscles of his countenance to restore their gravity. The teacher is vexed at the interruption, and severely rebukes or punishes the boy,—when, after all, the offence, in a moral point of view, was an exceedingly light one; at least it might very probably have been so. In fact, a large proportion of the offences against order committed in school are the mere momentary action of the natural buoyancy and life of childhood. This is no reason why they should be indulged, or why the order and regularity of the school should be sacrificed, but it should prevent their exciting feelings of anger or impatience, or very severe reprehension. While the teacher should take effectual measures for restraining all such irregularities, he should do it with the tone and manner which will show that he understands their true moral character, and deals with them, not as heinous sins which deserve severe punishment, but as serious inconveniences which he is compelled to repress.

There are often cases of real moral turpitude in school,—such as where there is intentional, wilful mischief, or disturbance, or habitual disobedience, and there may even be, in some cases, open rebellion. Now the teacher should show that he distinguishes these cases from such momentary acts of thoughtlessness as we have described; and a broad distinction ought to be made in the treatment of them. In a word then,—what we have been recommending under this head is, that the teacher should make it his special study, for his first few days in school, to understand the characters of his pupils,—to learn who are the thoughtless ones, who the mischievous, and who the disobedient and rebellious;—and to do this with candid, moral discrimination, and with as little open collision with individuals as possible.

8. Another point to which the teacher ought to give his early attention, is to separate the bad boys as soon as he can, from one another. The idleness and irregularity of children in school often depends more on accidental circumstances than on character. Two boys may be individually harmless and well disposed, and yet they may be of so mercurial a temperament, that, together, the temptation to continual play will be irresistible. Another case that more often happens, is, where one is actively and even intentionally bad, and is seated next to an innocent but perhaps thoughtless boy, and contrives to keep him always in difficulty. Now remove the former away, where there are no very frail materials for him to act upon, and place the latter where he is exposed to no special temptation, and all would be well.

This is all very obvious, and known familiarly to all teachers who have had any experience. But beginners are not generally so aware of it at the outset as to make any direct and systematic efforts to examine the school with reference to its condition in this respect. It is usual to go on, leaving the boys to remain seated as chance or their own inclinations grouped them, and to endeavour to keep the peace among the various neighbourhoods, by close supervision, rebukes, and punishment. Now these difficulties may be very much diminished, by looking a little into the arrangement of the boys at the outset, and so modifying it as to diminish the amount of temptation to which the individuals are exposed.

This should be done, however, cautiously, deliberately, and with good nature;—keeping the object of it a good deal out of view. It must be done cautiously and deliberately, for the first appearances are exceedingly fallacious in respect to the characters of the different children. You see perhaps some indications of play between two boys upon the same seat, and hastily conclude that they are disorderly boys and must be separated. Something in the air and manner of one or both of them confirms this impression, and you take the necessary measures at once. You then find, when you become more fully acquainted with them, that the appearances which you observed were only momentary and accidental, and that they would have been as safe together as any two boys in the school. And perhaps you will even find, that, by their new position, you have brought one or the other into circumstances of peculiar temptation. Wait, therefore, before you make such changes, till you have ascertained actual character,—doing this, however, without any unnecessary delay.

In such removals, too, it is well, in many cases, to keep the motive and design of them as much as possible out of view. For by expressing suspicion of a boy, you injure his character in his own opinion, and in that of others, and tend to make him reckless. Besides, if you remove a boy from a companion whom he likes, avowedly to prevent his playing, you offer him an inducement, if he is a bad boy, to continue to play in his new position for the purpose of thwarting you, or from the influence of resentment. It would be wrong indeed to use any subterfuge, or duplicity of any kind, to conceal your object,—but you are not bound to explain it, and in the many changes which you will be compelled to make, in the course of the first week, for various purposes, you may include many of these, without explaining particularly the design or intention of any of them.

In some instances, however, you may frankly state the whole case, without danger, provided it is done in such a manner as not to make the boy feel that his character is seriously injured in your estimation. It must depend upon the tact and judgment of the teacher, to determine upon the particular course to be pursued in the several cases, though he ought to keep these general principles in view in all.

In one instance, for example, he will see two boys together, James and Joseph we will call them, exhibiting a tendency to play, and after inquiring into their characters he will find that they are good-natured, pleasant boys, and that he had better be frank with them on the subject. He calls one of them to his desk, and perhaps the following dialogue ensues.

"James, I am making some changes in the seats, and thought of removing you to another place. Have you any particular preference for that seat?"

The question is unexpected, and James hesitates. He wants to sit next to Joseph, but doubts whether it is quite prudent to avow it,—so he says slowly and with hesitation,

"No sir,—I do not know that I have."

"If you have any reason, I wish you would tell me frankly, for I want you to have such a seat as will be pleasant to you."

James does not know what to say. Encouraged, however, by the good-humored tone and look which the master assumes, he says, timidly,

"Joseph and I thought we should like to sit together,—if you are willing."

"Oh,—you and Joseph are particular friends then, I suppose."

"Why,—yes sir."

"I am not surprised then, that you want to sit together,—though, to tell the truth, that is rather a reason why I should separate you."

"Why sir?"

"Because I have observed that when two great friends are seated together, they are always more apt to whisper and play.—Have not you observed it?"

"Why,—yes sir."

"You may go and ask Joseph to come here."

When the two boys make their appearance again, the teacher continues.

"Joseph, James tells me that you and he want to sit together, and says you are particular friends. But I tell him," he adds, smiling, "that that is rather a reason for separating you. Now if I should put you both into different parts of the school, next to boys that you are not acquainted with, it would be a great deal easier for you to be still and studious than it is now. Do not you think so yourselves?"

The boys look at one another and smile.

"However, there is one way you can do. You can guard against the extra temptation by extra care; and on the whole, as I believe you are pretty good boys, I will let you have your choice. You may stay as you are, and make extra exertion to be perfectly regular and studious, or I will find seats for you where it will be a great deal easier for you to be so. Which do you think you should rather do?"

The boys hesitate, look at one another, and presently say that they had rather sit together.

"Well," said the teacher, "it is immaterial to me whether you sit together or apart, if you are only good boys. So you may take your seats and try it a little while. If you find it too hard work to be studious and orderly together, I can make a change hereafter. I shall soon see."

Such a conversation will have many good effects. It will make the boys expect to be watched, without causing them to feel that their characters have suffered. It will stimulate them to great exertion to avoid all misconduct, and it will prepare the way for separating them afterwards without awakening feelings of resentment, if the experiment of their sitting together should fail.

Another case would be managed perhaps in a little different way, where the tendency to play was more decided. After speaking to the individuals mildly, two or three times, you see them again at play. You ask them to wait that day after school and come to your desk.

They have, then, the rest of the day to think occasionally of the difficulty they have brought themselves into, and the anxiety and suspense which they will naturally feel, will give you every advantage for speaking to them with effect;—and if you should be engaged a few minutes with some other business, after school, so that they should have to stand a little while in silent expectation, waiting for their turn, it would contribute to the permanence of the effect.

"Well, boys," at length you say, with a serious but frank tone of voice, "I saw you playing in a disorderly manner to-day. And in the first place I want you to tell me honestly all about it. I am not going to punish you,—but I want you to be open and honest about it. What were you doing?"

The boys hesitate.

"George, what did you have in your hand?"

"A piece of paper."

"And what were you doing with it?"

George. "William was trying to take it away from me."

"Was there any thing on it?"

"Yes sir."

"What?"

George looks down a little confused.

William. "George had been drawing some pictures on it.

"I see each of you are ready to tell of the other's fault, but it would be much more honorable if each was open in acknowledging his own. Have I ever had to speak to you before for playing together in school?"

"Yes sir, I believe you have," says one, looking down.

"More than once?"

"Yes sir."

"More than twice?"

"I do not recollect exactly,—I believe you have."

"Well, now, what do you think I ought to do next?"

The boys have nothing to say.

"Do you prefer sitting together, or are you willing to have me separate you?"

"We should rather sit together, sir, if you are willing," says George.

"I have no objection to your sitting together, if you could only resist the temptation to play. I want all the boys in the school to have pleasant seats."

There is a pause,—the teacher hesitating what to do.

"Suppose now I were to make one more experiment, and let you try to be good boys in your present seat, would you really try?"

"Yes sir."—"Yes sir, we will," are the replies.

"And if I should find that you still continue to play, and should have to separate you, will you move into your new seats pleasantly, and with good humor, feeling that I have done right about it?"

"Yes sir, we will."

Thus it will be seen that there may be cases where the teacher may make arrangements for separating his scholars, on an open and distinct understanding with them in respect to the cause of it. We have given these cases not that exactly such ones will be very likely to occur, or that when they do, the teacher is to manage them in exactly the way here described, but to exhibit more clearly to the reader than could be done by any general description, the spirit and tone which a teacher ought to assume towards his pupils. We wished to exhibit this in contrast with the harsh and impatient manner, which teachers too often assume in such a case;—as follows.

"John Williams and Samuel Smith, come here to me," exclaims the master, in a harsh, impatient tone, in the midst of the exercises of the afternoon.

The scholars all look up from their work;—the culprits slowly rise from their seats, and with a sullen air come down to the floor.

"You are playing, boys, all the time, and I will not have it. John, do you take your books and go and sit out there by the window, and, Samuel, you come and sit here on this front seat,—and if I catch you playing again I shall certainly punish you severely."

The boys make the move, with as much rattling and disturbance as is possible without furnishing proof of wilful intention to make a noise, and when they get their new seats, and the teacher is again engaged upon his work, they exchange winks and nods, and, in ten minutes, are slyly cannonading each other with paper balls.

In regard to all the directions that have been given under this head, I ought to say again before concluding it, that they are mainly applicable to the case of beginners, and of small schools. The general principles are, it is true, of universal application, but it is only where a school is of moderate size that the details of position, in respect to individual scholars, can be minutely studied. More summary processes are necessary, I am aware, when the school is very large, and the time of the teacher is incessantly engaged.

9. In some districts in New England, the young teacher will find one or more boys, generally among the larger ones, who will come to the school with the express determination to make a difficulty if they can. The best way is generally to face these individuals at once, in the most direct and open manner, and, at the same time, with perfect good humor, and kindness of feeling and deportment towards them personally. An example or two will best illustrate what I mean.

A teacher heard a rapping noise repeatedly, one day, just after he had commenced his labors, under such circumstances as to lead him to suppose it was designed. He did not appear to notice it, but remained after school until the scholars had all gone, and then made a thorough examination. He found at length a broken place in the plastering, where a lath was loose, and a string was tied to the end of it, and thence carried along the wall under the benches, to the seat of a mischievous boy, and fastened to a nail. By pulling the string he could spring the lath, and then let it snap back to its place. He left every thing as it was, and the next day while engaged in a lesson, he heard the noise again.

He rose from his seat.

The scholars all looked up from their books.

"Did you hear that noise?" said he.

"Yes sir."

"Do you know what it is?"

"No sir."

"Very well, I only wanted to call your attention to it. I may perhaps speak of it again, by and by."

He then resumed his exercise as if nothing had happened. The guilty boy was agitated and confused, and was utterly at a loss to know what to do. What could the teacher mean? Had he discovered the trick?—and if so what was he going to do?

He grew more and more uneasy, and resolved that, at all events, it was best for him to retreat. Accordingly, at the next recess, as the teacher had anticipated, he went slyly to the lath, cut the string, then returned to his seat, and drew the line in, rolled it up, and put it in his pocket. The teacher, who was secretly watching him, observed the whole manoeuvre.

At the close of the school, when the books were laid aside, and all was silence, he treated the affair thus.

"Do you remember the noise to which I called your attention early this afternoon?

"Yes, sir."

"I will explain it to you now. One of the boys tied a string to a loose lath in the side of the room, and then having the end of it at his seat, he was pulling it, to make a noise to disturb us."

The scholars all looked astonished, and then began to turn round towards one another to see who the offender could be. The culprit began to tremble.

"He did it several times yesterday, and would have gone on doing it, had I not spoken about it to-day. Do you think this was wrong or not?"

"Yes sir;" "wrong;" "wrong;" are the replies.

"What harm does it do?"

"It interrupts the school."

"Yes. Is there any other harm?"

The boys hesitate.

"It gives me trouble and pain. Should you not suppose it would?"

"Yes sir."

"Have I ever treated any boy or girl in this school unjustly or unkindly?"

"No sir;" "No sir."

"Then why should any boy or girl wish to give me trouble or pain?"

There was a pause. The guilty individual expected that the next thing would be to call him out for punishment.

"Now what do you think I ought to do with such a boy?"

No answer.

"Perhaps I ought to punish him, but I am very unwilling to do that. I concluded to try another plan, to treat him with kindness and forbearance. So I called your attention to it this afternoon, to let him know that I was observing it, and to give him an opportunity to remove the string. And he did. He went in the recess and cut off the string. I shall not tell you his name, for I do not wish to injure his character. All I want is to have him a good boy."

A pause.

"I think I shall try this plan; for he must have some feelings of honor and gratitude, and if he has, he certainly will not try to give me pain or trouble win after this. And now I shall say no more about it, nor think any more about it; only, to prove that it is all as I say, if you look there under that window, after school, you will see the lath with the end of the string round it, and by pulling it, you can make it snap."

Another case, a little more serious in its character, is the following.

A teacher having had some trouble with a rude and savage-looking boy, made some inquiry respecting him out of school, and incidentally learned that he had once or twice before openly rebelled against the authority of the school, and that he was now, in the recesses, actually preparing a club with which he was threatening to defend himself, if the teacher should attempt to punish him.

The next day, soon after the boys had gone out, he took his hat and followed them, and turning round a corner of the schoolhouse, found the boys standing around the young rebel, who was sitting upon a log, shaving the handle of the club smooth, with his pocket-knife. He was startled at the unexpected appearance of the teacher, and the first impulse was to hide his club behind him, but it was too late, and supposing that the teacher was ignorant of his designs, he went on sullenly with his work, feeling, however, greatly embarrassed.

"Pleasant day, boys," said the teacher. "This is a fine sunny nook for you to talk in."

"Seems to me, however, you ought to have a better seat than this old log," continued he, taking his seat at the same time by the side of the boy.

"Not so bad a seat, however, after all. What are you making, Joseph?"

Joseph mumbled out something inarticulate by way of reply.

"I have got a sharper knife," said he, drawing his penknife out of his pocket. And then, "Let me try it," he continued, gently taking the club out of Joseph's hand.

The boys looked surprised, some exchanged nods and winks, others turned away to conceal a laugh; but the teacher engaged in conversation with them, and soon put them all at their ease, except poor Joseph, who could not tell how this strange interview was likely to end.

In the mean time the teacher went on shaving the handle smooth, and rounding the ends. "You want," said he, "a rasp or coarse file for the ends, and then you could finish it finely. But what are you making this formidable club for?"

Joseph was completely at a loss what to say. He began to show evident marks of embarrassment and confusion.

"I know what it is for; it is to defend yourself against me with, is it not, boys?" said he, appealing to the others.

A faint "yes sir," or two, was the reply.

"Well now, Joseph, it will be a great deal better for us both to be friends than to be enemies. You had better throw this club away, and save yourself from punishment by being a good boy. Come now," said he, handing him back his club, "throw it over into the field as far as you can, and we will all forget that you ever made it."

Joseph sat the picture of shame and confusion. Better feelings were struggling for admission, and the case was decided by a broad-faced, good-natured-looking boy, who stood by his side saying almost involuntarily,

"Better throw it, Joe."

The club flew, end over end, into the field. Joseph returned to his allegiance, and never attempted to rise in rebellion again.

The ways by which boys engage in open, intentional disobedience, are, of course, greatly varied, and the exact treatment will depend upon the features of the individual case. But the frankness, the openness, the plain dealing, and the kind and friendly tone, which it is the object of the foregoing illustrations to exhibit, should characterize all.

11. We have already alluded to the importance of a delicate regard for the characters of the boys, in all the measures of discipline adopted at the commencement of a school. This is in fact of the highest importance at all times, and is peculiarly so at the outset. A wound to the feelings is sometimes inflicted by a single transaction, which produces a lasting injury to the character. Children are very sensitive to ridicule or disgrace, and some are most acutely so. A cutting reproof administered in public, or a punishment which exposes the individual to the gaze of others, will often burn far more deeply into the heart than the teacher imagines.

And it is often the cause of great and lasting injury too. By destroying the character of a pupil, you make him feel that he has nothing more to lose or gain, and destroy that kind of interest in his own moral condition, which alone will allure him to virtuous conduct. To expose children to public ridicule or contempt, tends either to make them sullen and despondent, or else to arouse their resentment and to make them reckless and desperate. Most persons remember through life, some instances in their early childhood, in which they were disgraced or ridiculed at school; and the permanence of the recollection is a test of the violence of the effect.

Be very careful then to avoid, especially at the commencement of the school, publicly exposing those who do wrong. Sometimes you may make the offence public, as in the case of the snapping of the lath described under a former head, while you kindly conceal the name of the offender. Even if the school generally understand who he is, the injury of public exposure is almost altogether avoided, for the sense of disgrace does not come nearly so vividly home to the mind of a child, from hearing occasional allusions to his offence by individuals among his play-mates, as when he feels himself at a particular time the object of universal attention and dishonor. And then besides, if the pupil perceives that the teacher is tender of his reputation, he will, by a feeling somewhere between imitation and sympathy, begin to feel a little tender of it too. Every exertion should be made therefore, to lead children to value their character, and to help them to preserve it; and especially to avoid, at the beginning, every unnecessary sacrifice of it.

And yet there are cases where shame is the very best possible remedy for juvenile faults. If a boy, for example, is self-conceited, bold, and mischievous, with feelings somewhat callous, and an influence extensive and bad, an opportunity will sometimes occur to hold up his conduct to the just reprobation of the school, with great advantage. By this means, if it is done in such a way as to secure the influence of the school on the right side, many good effects are sometimes attained. His pride and self-conceit are humbled,—his bad influence receives a very decided check, and he is forced to draw back at once from the prominent stand he has occupied.

Richard Jones; for example, is a rude, coarse, self-conceited boy,—often doing wrong both in school and out, and yet possessed of that peculiar influence which a bad boy often contrives to exert in school. The teacher, after watching some time for an opportunity to humble him, one day overhears a difficulty among the boys, and looking out of the window, observes that he is taking away a sled from one of the little boys, to slide down hill upon, having none of his own. The little boy resists as well as he can, and complains bitterly; but it is of no avail.

At the close of the school that day, the teacher commences conversation on the subject as follows.

"Boys, do you know what the difference is between stealing and robbery?"

"Yes sir."

"What?"

The boys hesitate, and look at one another.

"Suppose a thief were to go into a man's store in the day time, and take away something secretly, would it be stealing or robbery?"

"Stealing."

"Suppose he should meet him in the road and take it away by force?"

"Then it would be robbery."

"Yes; when that which belongs to another is taken secretly, it is called stealing; when it is taken openly or with violence, it is called robbery. Which now do you think is the worst?"

"Robbery."

"Yes, for it is more barefaced and determined—then it gives a great deal more pain to the one who is injured. To-day I saw one of the boys in this school taking away another boy's sled, openly and with violence."

The boys all look round towards Richard.

"Was that of the nature of stealing or robbery?"

"Robbery," say the boys.

"Was it real robbery?"

They hesitate.

"If any of you think of any reason why it was not real robbery, you may name it."

"He gave the sled back to him," says one of the boys.

"Yes. And therefore to describe the action correctly, we should not say Richard robbed a boy of his sled, but that he robbed him of his sled for a time, or he robbed him of the use of his sled. Still, in respect to the nature and the guilt of it, it was robbery."

"There is another thing which ought to be observed about it. Whose sled was it that Richard took away?"

"James Thompson's."

"James, you may stand up."

"Notice his size, boys,—I should like to have Richard Jones stand up too, so that you might compare them; but I presume he feels very much ashamed of what he has done, and it would be very unpleasant for him to stand up. You all remember, however, how large he is. Now when I was a boy, it used to be considered dishonorable and cowardly for a large, strong boy to abuse a little one who cannot defend himself. Is it considered so now?"

"Yes sir."

"It ought to be, certainly; though, were it not for such a case as this, we should not have thought of considering Richard Jones a coward. It seems he did not dare to try to take away a sled from a boy who was as big as himself, but attacked little James, for he knew he was not strong enough to defend himself."

Now, in some such cases as this, great good may be done both in respect to the individual, and to the state of public sentiment in school, by openly exposing a boy's misconduct. The teacher must always take care, however, that the state of mind and character in the guilty individual, is such that public exposure is adapted to work well as a remedy, and also that in managing it he carries the sympathies of the other boys with him. To secure this, he must avoid all harsh and exaggerated expressions, or direct reproaches, and while he is mild and gentle and forbearing himself, lead the boys to understand and feel the nature of the sin which he exposes. The opportunities for doing this to advantage will, however, be rare. Generally it will be best to manage cases of discipline more privately, so as to protect the characters of those that offend.

The teacher should thus, in accordance with the directions we have given, commence his labors with careful circumspection, patience, frankness, and honest good will towards every individual of his charge. He will find less difficulty at the outset than he would have expected, and soon have the satisfaction of perceiving that a mild but most efficient government is quietly and firmly established in the little kingdom over which he is called to reign.