Jacob Abbott

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes sir."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The boys laughed.

"Is not this the fact?"

"Yes sir."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was no answer.

Footnote:

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

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

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

There was a pause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How can I tell?" asked the master.

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

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

No answer.

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

"Yes sir."

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

"No sir."

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

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

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

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

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

There was a pause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Pains of a Sailor's Life.

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

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

Two Children lost in the Woods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The hands were all raised.

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

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

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

"Now I wish to ask you one more question, which I wish you all to answer by your votes, honestly. It is this. Do you think that the real disorder which has been in this class, that is, the real cases which you referred to, when you stated to me, that you thought that the class was not in good order, have been now really exposed, so that I honestly and fully understand the case? How many suppose so?"

Not a single hand was raised.

"How many of you think, and are willing to avow your opinion, that I have not been fully informed of the case?"

A large proportion held up their hands.

"Now it seems the class pretended to be willing that I should know all the affair. You pretended to be willing to tell me the whole, but when I call upon you for the information, instead of telling me honestly, you attempt to amuse me by little trifles, which in reality made no disturbance, and you omit the things which you know were the real objects of my inquiries. Am I right in my supposition?"

They were silent. After a moment's pause, one perhaps raised her hand, and began now to confess something, which she had before concealed.

The teacher however interrupted her, by saying,

"I do not wish to have the confession made now. I gave you all time to do that, and now I should rather not hear any more about the disorder. I gave an opportunity to have it acknowledged, but it was not honestly improved, and now I should rather not hear. I shall probably never know.

"I wished to see whether this class would be honest,—really honest, or whether they would have the insincerity to pretend to be confessing, when they were not doing so honestly, so as to get the credit of being frank and sincere, when in reality they are not so. Now am I not compelled to conclude that this latter is the case?"

Such an example will make a deep and lasting impression. It will show that the teacher is upon his guard; and there are very few, so hardened in deception, that they would not wish that they had been really sincere, rather than rest under such an imputation.

8. Court. A pupil, quite young, (says a teacher,) came to me one day with a complaint that one of her companions had got her seat. There had been some changes in the seats by my permission, and probably from some inconsistency in the promises which I had made, there were two claimants for the same desk. The complainant came to me, and appealed to my recollection of the circumstance.

"I do not recollect anything about it," said I.

"Why! Mr. B." replied she, with astonishment.

"No," said I, "you forget that I have, every day, arrangements, almost without number, of such a kind to make, and as soon as I have made one, I immediately forget all about it."

"Why, don't you remember that you got me a new baize?"

"No; I ordered a dozen new baizes at that time, but I do not remember who they were for."

There was a pause; the disappointed complainants seemed not to know what to do.

"I will tell you what to do. Bring the case into court and I will try it, regularly."

"Why, Mr. B.! I do not like to do any thing like that, about it; besides, I do not know how to write an indictment."

"Oh!" I replied, "they will like to have a good trial. It will make a new sort of case. All our cases thus far have been for offences, that is what they call criminal cases, and this will be only an examination of the conflicting claims of two individuals to the same property, and it will excite a good deal of interest. I think you had better bring it into court."

She went slowly and thoughtfully to her seat, and presently returned with an indictment.

"Mr. B. is this right?"

It was as follows:—

I accuse Miss A. B. of coming to take away my seat, the one Mr. B. gave me.

Witnesses. {	C. D.
	E. T.

"Why, —— —— yes,—that will do; and yet it is not exactly right. You see this is what they call a civil case."

"I don't think it is very civil."

"No, I don't mean it was civil to take your seat. But this is not a case where a person is prosecuted for having done anything wrong."

The plaintiff looked a little perplexed, as if she could not understand how it could be otherwise than wrong, for a girl to usurp her seat.

"I mean, you do not bring it into court, as a case of wrong. You do not want her to be punished; do you?"

"No; I only want her to give me up my seat; I don't want her to be punished."

"Well, then, you see, that although she may have done wrong to take your seat, it is not in that point of view, that you bring it into court. It is a question about the right of property, and the lawyers call such cases, civil cases, to distinguish them from cases where persons are tried for the purpose of being punished for doing wrong. These are called criminal cases."

The aggrieved party still looked perplexed. "Well, Mr. B." she continued, "what shall I do? How shall I write it? I cannot say anything about civil, in it, can I?"

A form was given her, which would be proper for the purpose, and the case was brought forward, and the evidence on both sides examined. The irritation of the quarrel was soon dissipated, in the amusement of a semi-serious trial, and both parties good humoredly acquiesced in the decision.

9. Teachers' Personal Character. Much has been said within a few years, by writers on the subject of education, in this country, on the desirableness of raising the business of teaching to the rank of a learned profession. There is but one way of doing this, and that is raising the personal characters and attainments of teachers themselves. Whether an employment is elevated or otherwise in public estimation, depends altogether on the associations connected with it in the public mind; and these depend altogether on the characters of the individuals who are engaged in it. Franklin, by the simple fact that he was a printer himself, has done more towards giving dignity and respectability to the employment of printing, than a hundred orations on the intrinsic excellence of the art. In fact all mechanical employments have, within a few years risen in rank, in this country, not through the influence of efforts to impress the community directly with a sense of their importance, but simply because mechanics themselves have risen in intellectual and moral character. In the same manner the employment of the teacher will be raised most effectually in the estimation of the public, not by the individual who writes the most eloquent oration on the intrinsic dignity of the art, but by the one who goes forward most successfully in the exercise of it, and who by his general attainments, and public character, stands out most fully to the view of the public, as a well informed, liberal minded, and useful man.

If this is so, and it cannot well be denied, it furnishes every teacher a strong motive to exertion, for the improvement of his own personal character. But there is a stronger motive still, in the results which flow directly to himself, from such efforts. No man ought to engage in any business which, as mere business, will engross all his time and attention. The Creator has bestowed upon every one a mind, upon the cultivation of which, our rank among intelligent beings, our happiness, our moral and intellectual power, every thing valuable to us, depend. And after all the cultivation which we can bestow, in this life, upon this mysterious principle, it will still be in embryo. The progress which it is capable of making is entirely indefinite. If by ten years of cultivation, we can secure a certain degree of knowledge and power, by ten more, we can double, or more than double it, and every succeeding year of effort, is attended with equal success. There is no point of attainment where we must stop, or beyond which effort will bring in a less valuable return.

Look at that teacher, and consider for a moment, his condition. He began to teach when he was twenty years of age, and now he is forty. Between the years of fifteen and twenty he made a vigorous effort to acquire such an education as would fit him for these duties. He succeeded, and by these efforts he raised himself from being a mere laborer, receiving for his daily toil a mere daily subsistence, to the respectability and the comforts of an intellectual pursuit. But this change once produced, he stops short in his progress. Once seated in his desk, he is satisfied, and for twenty years he has been going through the same routine, without any effort to advance or to improve. He does not reflect that the same efforts, which so essentially altered his condition and prospects at twenty, would have carried him forward to higher and higher sources of influence and enjoyment, as long as he should continue them. His efforts ceased when he obtained a situation as teacher, at forty dollars a month, and though twenty years have glided away, he is now exactly what he was then.

There is probably no employment whatever which affords so favorable an opportunity for personal improvement,—for steady intellectual and moral progress, as that of teaching. There are two reasons for this.

First, there is time for it. With an ordinary degree of health and strength, the mind can be vigorously employed at least ten hours a day. As much as this, is required of students, in many literary institutions. In fact ten hours to study, seven to sleep, and seven to food, exercise, and recreation, is perhaps as good an arrangement as can be made; at any rate, very few persons will suppose that such a plan allows too little under the latter head. Now six hours is as much as is expected of teachers under ordinary circumstances, and it is as much as ought ever to be bestowed. For though he may labor four hours out of school, in some new field, his health and spirits will soon sink under the burden, if after his weary labors during the day in school, he gives up his evenings to the same perplexities and cares. And it is not necessary. No one who knows any thing of the nature of the human mind, and who will reflect a moment on the subject, can doubt that a man can make a better school, by expending six hours labor upon it, which he can go through with, with some alacrity and ardor, than he can by driving himself on to ten. Every teacher therefore, who is commencing his work, should begin with the firm determination of devoting only six hours daily to the pursuit. Make as good a school, and accomplish as much for it, as you can in six hours, and let the rest go. When you come from your school room at night, leave all your perplexities and cares behind you. No matter what unfinished business or unsettled difficulties remain. Dismiss them all till another sun shall rise, and the hour of duty for another day shall come. Carry no school work home with you and do not talk of your work. You will then get refreshment and rest. Your mind during the evening will be in a different world from that in which you have moved during the day. At first this will be difficult. It will be hard for you, unless your mind is uncommonly well disciplined, to dismiss all your cares; and you will think, each evening, that some peculiar emergency demands your attention, just at that time, and that as soon as you have passed the crisis, you will confine yourself to what you admit are generally reasonable limits. But if you once allow school with its perplexities and cares to get possession of the rest of the day, it will keep possession. It will intrude itself into all your waking thoughts, and trouble you in your dreams. You will lose all command of your powers, and besides cutting off from yourself all hope of general intellectual progress, you will in fact destroy your success as a teacher. Exhaustion, weariness, and anxiety will be your continual portion, and in such a state, no business can be successfully prosecuted.

There need be no fear that employers will be dissatisfied, if the teacher acts upon this principle. If he is faithful and enters with all his heart into the discharge of his duties during six hours, there will be something in the ardor, and alacrity, and spirit with which his duties will be performed, which parents and scholars will both be very glad to receive, in exchange for the languid, and dull, and heartless toil, in which the other method must sooner or later result.

If the teacher then, will confine himself to such a portion of time, as is, in fact, all he can advantageously employ, there will be much left which can be devoted to his own private employment,—more than is usual in the other employments of life. In most of these other employments, there is not the same necessity for limiting the hours which a man may devote to his business. A merchant, for example, may be employed nearly all the day, at his counting-room, and so may a mechanic. A physician may spend all his waking-hours in visiting patients, and feel little more than healthy fatigue. The reason is that in all these employments, and in fact in most of the employments of life, there is so much to diversify, so many little incidents constantly occurring to animate and relieve, and so much bodily exercise, which alternates with, and suspends the fatigues of the mind, that the labors may be much longer continued, and with less cessation, and yet the health not suffer. But the teacher, while engaged in his work, has his mind continually on the stretch. There is little to relieve, little respite, and he is almost entirely deprived of bodily exercise. He must, consequently, limit his hours of attending to his business, or his health will soon sink under labors which Providence never intended the human mind to bear.

There is another circumstance which facilitates the progress of the teacher. It is a fact that all this general progress has a direct and immediate bearing upon his pursuits. A lawyer may read in an evening an interesting book of travels, and find nothing to help him with his case, the next day, in court,—but almost every fact which the teacher thus learns, will come at once into use, in some of his recitations at school. We do not mean to imply by this that the members of the legal profession have not need of a great variety and extent of knowledge; they doubtless have. It is simply in the directness and certainty, with which the teacher's knowledge may be applied to his purpose, that the business of teaching has the advantage over every other pursuit.

This fact now has a very important influence in encouraging, and leading forward the teacher, to make constant intellectual progress, for every step brings at once a direct reward.

10. The Chestnut Burr. A story for school-boys.[E] One fine pleasant morning, in the fall of the year, the master was walking along towards school, and he saw three or four boys under a large chestnut tree, gathering chestnuts.

[E] Originally written for a periodical.

One of the boys was sitting upon the ground, trying to open some chestnut burrs, which he had knocked off from the tree. The burrs were green, and he was trying to open them by pounding them with a stone.

He was a very impatient boy and was scolding, in a loud angry tone, against the burrs. He did not see, he said, what in the world chestnuts were made to grow so for. They ought to grow right out in the open air, like apples, and not have such vile porcupine skins on them,—just to plague the boys. So saying he struck with all his might a fine large burr, crushed it to pieces, and then jumped up, using at the same time profane and wicked words. As soon as he turned round he saw the master standing very near him. He felt very much ashamed and afraid, and hung down his head.

"Roger," said the master, (for this boy's name was Roger) "can you get me a chestnut burr?"

Roger looked up for a moment, to see whether the master was in earnest, and then began to look around for a burr.

A boy who was standing near the tree, with a red cap full of burrs in his hand, held out one of them. Roger took the burr and handed it to the master, who quietly put it into his pocket, and walked away without saying a word.

As soon as he was gone, the boy with the red cap, said to Roger, "I expected the master would have given you a good scolding for talking so."

"The master never scolds," said another boy, who was sitting on a log pretty near, with a green satchel in his hand, "but you see if he does not remember it." Roger looked as if he did not know what to think about it.

"I wish," said he, "I knew what he is going to do with that burr."

That afternoon, when the lessons had been all recited, and it was about time to dismiss the school, the boys put away their books, and the master read a few verses in the Bible, and then offered a prayer, in which he asked God to forgive all the sins which any of them had committed that day, and to take care of them during the night. After this he asked the boys all to sit down. He then took his handkerchief out of his pocket, and laid it on the desk, and afterwards he put his hand into his pocket again; and took out the chestnut burr, and all the boys looked at it.

"Boys," said he, "do you know what this is?"

One of the boys in the back seat, said, in a half whisper, "It is nothing but a chestnut burr."

"Lucy," said the master, to a bright-eyed little girl, near him, "what is this?"

"It is a chestnut burr, sir," said she.

"Do you know what it is for?"

"I suppose there are chestnuts in it."

"But what is this rough prickly covering for?"

Lucy did not know.

"Does any body here know?" said the master.

One of the boys said he supposed it was to hold the chestnuts together, and keep them up on the tree.

"But I heard a boy say," replied the master, "that they ought not to be made to grow so. The nut itself, he thought, ought to hang alone on the branches, without any prickly covering,—just as apples do."

"But the nuts themselves have no stems to be fastened by," answered the same boy.

"That is true, but I suppose this boy thought that God could have made them grow with stems, and that this would have been better than to have them in burrs."

After a little pause the master said he would explain to them what the chestnut burr was for, and wished them all to listen attentively.

"How much of the chestnut is good to eat, William?" asked he, looking at a boy before him.

"Only the meat."

"How long does it take the meat to grow?"

"All summer I suppose, it is growing."

"Yes; it begins early in the summer and gradually swells and grows until it has become of full size and is ripe, in the fall. Now suppose there was a tree out here near the school-house, and the chestnut meats should grow upon it without any shell or covering, suppose too that they should taste like good ripe chestnuts at first, when they were very small. Do you think they would be safe?"

William said, "No! the boys would pick and eat them before they had time to grow."

"Well, what harm would there be in that; would it not be as well to have the chestnuts early in the summer, as to have them in the fall?"

William hesitated. Another boy who sat next to him said,

"There would not be so much meat in the chestnuts, if they were eaten before they had time to grow."

"Right," said the master, "but would not the boys know this, and so all agree to let the little chestnuts stay, and not eat them while they were small?"

William said he thought they would not. If the chestnuts were good, he was afraid they would pick them off and eat them, if they were small.

All the rest of the boys in the school thought so too.

"Here then," said the master, "is one reason for having prickles around the chestnuts when they are small. But then it is not necessary to have all chestnuts guarded from boys in this way; a great many of the trees are in the woods, which the boys do not see; what good do the burrs do in these trees?"

The boys hesitated. Presently the boy who had the green satchel under the tree with Roger, who was sitting in one corner of the room, said,

"I should think they would keep the squirrels from eating them."

"And besides," continued he after thinking a moment, "I should suppose if the meat of the chestnut had no covering, the rain might wet it and make it rot, or the sun might dry and wither it."

"Yes," said the master, "these are very good reasons why the nut should be carefully guarded. First the meats are packed away in a hard brown shell, which the water cannot get through; this keeps it dry, and away from dust, and other things which might injure it. Then several nuts thus protected grow closely together inside this green prickly covering; which spreads over them and guards them from the larger animals and the boys. Where the chestnut gets its full growth and is ripe, this covering you know splits open, and the nuts drop out, and then any body can get them and eat them."

The boys were then all satisfied that it was better that chestnuts should grow in burrs.

"But why," asked one of the boys, "do not apples grow so?"

"Can any body answer that question," asked the master.

The boy with the green satchel said that apples had a smooth, tight skin, which kept out the wet, but he did not see how they were guarded from animals.

The master said is was by their taste. "They are hard and sour before they are full grown, and so the taste is not pleasant, and nobody wants to eat them,—except sometimes a few foolish boys, and these are punished by being made sick. When the apples are full grown they change from sour to sweet, and become mellow; then they can be eaten. Can you tell me of any other fruits which are preserved in this way?"

One boy answered, "Strawberries and blackberries," and another said, "Peaches and pears."

Another boy asked why the peach-stone was not outside the peach, so as to keep it from being eaten. But the master said he would explain this another time. Then he dismissed the scholars, after asking Roger to wait until the rest had gone, as he wished to see him alone.

11. The Series of Writing Lessons. c.[F] Very many pupils soon become weary of the dull and monotonous business of writing, unless some plans are devised, to give interest and variety to the exercise, and on this account, this branch of education, in which improvement may be most rapid, is often the last and most tedious to be acquired.

A teacher, by adopting the following plan, succeeded in awakening a great degree of interest in this subject, and consequently, of promoting rapid improvement. The plan was this; he prepared, on a large sheet of paper, a series of lessons in coarse hand, beginning with straight lines, and proceeding to the elementary parts of the various letters, and finally to the letters themselves. This paper was posted up in a part of the room accessible to all.

The writing-books were made of three sheets of fool's-cap paper, folded into a convenient size, which was to be ruled by each pupil; for it was thought important that each one should learn this art. Every pupil in school then, being furnished with one of these writing books, was required to commence this series, and to practice each lesson until he could write it well; then, and not till then, he was permitted to pass to the next. A few brief directions were given under each lesson, on the large sheet. For example, under the line of straight marks, which constituted the first lesson, was written as follows:

Straight, equidistant, parallel, smooth, well terminated

These directions were to call the attention of the pupil to the excellences which he must aim at, and when he supposed he had secured them, his book was to be presented to the teacher for examination. If approved the word Passed, or afterwards simply P. was written under the line, and he could then proceed to the next lesson. Other requisites were necessary besides the correct formation of the letters, to enable one to pass; for example, the page must not be soiled or blotted, no paper must be wasted, and, in no case, a leaf torn out. As soon as one line was written in the manner required, the scholar was allowed to pass; in a majority of cases however, not less than a page would be practised, and in many instances a sheet would be covered, before one line could be produced which would be approved.

One peculiar excellency of this method was, that although the whole school were working under a regular and systematic plan, individuals could go on independently; that is, the progress of no scholar was retarded by that of his companion; the one more advanced, might easily pass the earlier lessons in few days, while the others would require weeks of practice to acquire the same degree of skill.

During the writing hour, the scholars would practice, each at the lesson where he left off before, and at a particular time, each day, the books were brought from the regular place of deposit, and laid before the teacher for examination. Without some arrangement for an examination of all the books together, the teacher would be liable to interruption at any time, from individual questions and requests, which would consume much time, and benefit only a few.

When a page of writing could not pass, a brief remark, calling the attention of the pupil to the faults which prevented it, was sometimes made in pencil at the bottom of the page. In other cases, the fault was of such a character as to require full and minute oral directions to the pupil. At last, to facilitate the criticism of the writing, a set of arbitrary marks; indicative of the various faults, was devised, and applied, as occasion might require, to the writing books, by means of red ink.

These marks, which were very simple in their character, were easily remembered, for there was generally some connexion between the sign and the thing signified. For example; the mark denoting that letters were too short, was simply lengthening them in red ink. A faulty curve was denoted, by making a new curve over the old one, &c. The following are the principal criticisms and directions for which marks were contrived.

• Strokes rough.
• Curve wrong.
• Bad termination.
• Too slanting, and the reverse.
• Too broad, and the reverse.
• Not parallel.
• Form of the letter bad.
• Large stroke made too fine, and the reverse.
• Too tall, or too short.
• Stems not straight.
• Careless work.
• Paper wasted.
• Almost well enough to pass.
• Bring your book to the teacher.
• Former fault not corrected.

A catalogue of these marks, with an explanation, was made out and placed where it was accessible to all, and by means of them the books could be very easily and rapidly, but thoroughly criticised.

After the plan had gone on for some time, and its operation was fully understood, the teacher gave up the business of examining the books into the hands of a Committee, appointed by him from among the older and more advanced pupils. That the Committee might be unbiased in their judgment, they were required to examine and decide upon the books, without knowing the names of the writers. Each scholar was indeed required to place her name on the right hand upper corner of every page of her writing-book, for the convenience of the distributors; but this corner was turned down, when the book was brought in, that it might not be seen by the Committee.

This Committee were entrusted with plenary powers, and there was no appeal from their decision. In case they exercised their authority in an improper way, or failed on any account to give satisfaction, they were liable to impeachment, but while they continued in office, they were to be strictly obeyed.

This plan went on successfully for three months, and with very little diminution of interest. The whole school went regularly through the lessons in coarse hand, and afterwards through a similar series in fine hand, and improvement in this branch was thought to be greater than at any former period in the same length of time.

The same principle of arranging the several steps of an art or a study into a series of lessons, and requiring the pupil to pass regularly from one to the other, might easily be applied to other studies, and would afford a pleasant variety.

12. The Correspondence. A master of a district school was walking through the room, with a large rule in his hands, and as he came up behind two small boys, he observed that they were playing with some papers. He struck them once or twice, though not very severely on the head, with the rule which he had in his hand. Tears started from the eyes of one. They were called forth by a mingled feeling of grief, mortification, and pain. The other who was of "sterner stuff," looked steadily into the master's face, and when his back was turned, shook his fist at him and laughed in defiance.

Another teacher seeing a similar case, did nothing. The boys when they saw him; hastily gathered up their playthings and put them away. An hour or two after, a little boy who sat near the master, brought them a note addressed to them both. They opened it and read as follows.

As the teacher was arranging his papers in his desk, at the close of school, he found a small piece of paper neatly folded up in the form of a note, and addressed to him. He read as follows,

Which of these teachers understood human nature best?

13. Weekly Reports. The plan described by the following article, which was furnished by a teacher for insertion here, was originally adopted, so far as I know, in a school on the Kennebec. I have adopted it with great advantage.

c. A teacher had one day been speaking to her scholars of certain cases of slight disorder in the school, which, she remarked, had been gradually creeping in, and which, she thought, it devolved upon the scholars, by systematic efforts, to repress. She enumerated instances of disorder in the arrangement of the rooms, leaving the benches out of their places, throwing waste papers upon the floor, having the desk in disorder, inside, spilling water upon the entry floor, disorderly deportment, such as too loud talking or laughing in recess, or in the intermission at noon, or when coming to school, and making unnecessary noise in going to, or returning from recitations.

"I have a plan to propose," said the teacher, "which I think may be the pleasantest way of promoting a reform, in things of this kind. It is this. Let several of your number be chosen a Committee to prepare, statedly—perhaps as often as once a week,—a written report of the state of the school. The report might be read before the school at the close of each week. The Committee might consist in the whole, of seven or eight, or even of eleven or twelve individuals who should take the whole business into their hands. This Committee might appoint individuals of their number, to write, in turn, each week. By this arrangement, it would not be known to the school generally, who are the writers of any particular report, if the individuals wish to be anonymous. Two individuals might be appointed at the beginning of the week, who should feel it their business to observe particularly the course of things from day to day, with reference to the report. Individuals not members of the Committee, can render assistance by any suggestions they may present to this Committee. These should however generally be made in writing."

"Subjects for such a report will be found to suggest themselves very abundantly, though you may not perhaps think so at first. The Committee may be empowered, not only to state the particulars in which things are going wrong, but the methods by which they may be made right. Let them present us with any suggestions they please. If we do not like them, we are not obliged to adopt them. For instance, it is generally the case whenever a recitation is attended in the corner yonder, that an end of one of the benches is put against the door, so as to occasion a serious interruption to the exercises when a person wishes to come in or go out. It would come within the province of the Committee to attend to such a case as this, that is, to bring it up in the report. The remedy in such a case is a very simple one. Suppose however, that instead of the simple remedy, our Committee should propose that the classes reciting in the said corner should be dissolved and the studies abolished. We should know the proposal was an absurd one; but then it would do no hurt;—we should have only to reject it."

"Again, besides our faults, let our Committee notice the respects in which we are doing particularly well, that we may be encouraged to go on doing well, or even to do better. If they think for example, that we are deserving of credit for the neatness with which books are kept,—for their freedom from blots or scribblings, or dog's-ears, by which school-books are so commonly defaced, let them tell us so. And the same of any other excellence."

With the plan as thus presented, the scholars were very much pleased. It was proposed by one individual that such a Committee should be appointed immediately, and a report prepared for the ensuing week. This was done. The Committee were chosen by ballot. The following may be taken as a specimen of their reports.

If such a measure as this is adopted, it should not be continued uninterrupted for a very long time. Every thing of this sort should be occasionally changed, or it sooner or later becomes only a form.

14. The Shopping Exercise. c. I have often when going a shopping found difficulty and trouble in making change. I could never calculate very readily and in the hurry and perplexity of the moment, I was always making mistakes. I have heard others often make the same complaint, and I resolved to try the experiment of regularly teaching children to make change. I had a bright little class in Arithmetic, who were always ready to engage with interest in any thing new, and to them I proposed my plan. It was to be called the Shopping Exercise. I first requested each individual to write something upon her slate, which she would like to buy, if she was going a shopping, stating the quantity she wished and the price of it. To make the first lesson as simple as possible, I requested no one to go above ten, either in the quantity or price. When all were ready, I called upon some one to read what she had written. Her next neighbor was then requested to tell us how much the purchase would amount to; then the first one named a bill, which she supposed to be offered in payment, and the second showed what change was needed. A short specimen of the exercise will probably make it clearer than mere description.

Mary. Eight ounces of candy at seven cents.
Susan. Fifty-six cents.
Mary. One dollar.
Susan. Forty-four cents.
Susan. Nine yards of lace at eight cents.
Anna. Seventy-two cents.
Susan. Two dollars.
Anna. One dollar and twenty-eight cents.
Anna. Three pieces of tape at five cents.
Jane. Fifteen cents.
Anna. Three dollars.
Jane. Eighty-five cents.
Several voices. Wrong.
Jane. Two dollars and eighty-five cents.
Jane. Six pictures at eight cents.
Sarah. Forty-two cents.
Several voices. Wrong.
Sarah. Forty-eight cents.
Jane. One dollar.
Sarah. Sixty-two cents.
Several voices. Wrong.
Sarah. Fifty-two cents.

It will be perceived that the same individual who names the article and the price, names also the bill which she would give in payment, and the one who sits next her, who calculated the amount, calculated also the change to be returned. She then proposed her example to the one next in the line, with whom the same course was pursued, and thus it passed down the class.

The exercise went on for some time in this way, till the pupils had become so familiar with it, that I thought it best to allow them to take higher numbers. They were always interested in it, and made great improvement in a short time, and I, myself, derived great advantage from listening to them.

There is one more circumstance, I will add, which may contribute to the interest of this account. While the class were confined in what they purchased, to the number ten, they were sometimes inclined to turn the exercise into a frolic. The variety of articles which they could find costing less than ten cents was so small, that for the sake of getting something new, they would propose examples really ludicrous, such as these. Three meeting-houses at two cents. Four pianos at nine cents. But I soon found that if I allowed this at all, then attention was diverted from the main object, and occupied in seeking the most diverting and curious examples.

15. Artifices in Recitations. c. The teacher of a small, newly established school, had all of his scholars classed together in some of their studies. At recitations he usually sat in the middle of the room, while the scholars occupied the usual places at their desks, which were arranged around the sides. In the recitation in Rhetoric, the teacher, after a time, observed that one or two of the class seldom answered appropriately the questions which came to them; but yet, were always ready with some kind of answer—generally an exact quotation of the words of the book. Upon noticing these individuals more particularly, he was convinced that their books were open before them, in some concealed situation. Another practice not uncommon in the class, was that of prompting each other, either by whispers or writing. The teacher took no notice publicly of these practices, for some time, until at the close of an uncommonly good recitation, he remarked, "Well, I think we have had a fine recitation to-day. It is one of the pleasantest things I ever do, to hear a lesson that is learned as well as this. Do you think it would be possible for us to have as good an exercise every day?" "Yes sir," answered several faintly. "Do you think it would be reasonable for me to expect of every member of the class, that she should always be able to recite all her lessons, without ever missing a single question?" "No sir," answered all. "I do not expect it," said the teacher. "All I wish is, that each of you should be faithful in your efforts to prepare your lessons. I wish you to study from a sense of duty, and for the sake of your own improvement. You know I do not punish you for failures. I have no going up or down, no system of marking. Your only reward when you have made faithful preparation for a recitation, is the feeling of satisfaction which you will always experience; and when you have been negligent, your only punishment is a sort of uneasy feeling of self-reproach. I do not expect you all to be invariably prepared with every question of your lessons. Sometimes you will be unavoidably prevented from studying them, and at other times, when you have studied them very carefully, you may have forgotten, or you may fail from some misapprehension of the meaning in some cases. Do not, in such a case, feel troubled because you may not have appeared as well as some individual who has not been half as faithful as yourself. If you have done your duty that is enough. On the other hand, you ought to feel no better satisfied with yourselves when your lesson has not been studied well, because you may have happened to know the parts which came to you. Have I done well should always be the question, not have I managed to appear well?

"I will say a word here," continued the teacher, "upon a practice, which I have known to be very common in some schools, and which I have been sorry to notice occasionally in this. I mean that of prompting, or helping each other along in some way, at recitations. Now, where a severe punishment is the consequence of a failure, there might seem to be some reasonableness in helping your companions out of difficulty, though even then, such tricks are departures from honorable dealing. But especially when there is no purpose to be served but that of appearing to know more than you do, it certainly must be considered a very mean kind of artifice. I think I have sometimes observed an individual to be prompted, where evidently the assistance was not desired, and even where it was not needed. To whisper to an individual the answer to a question, is sometimes to pay her rather a poor compliment, at least; for it is the same as saying, 'I am a better scholar than you are; let me help you along a little.'

"Let us then hereafter, have only fair, open, honest dealings with each other, no attempts to appear to advantage by little artful manoeuvering;—no prompting,—no peeping into books. Be faithful and conscientious, and then banish anxiety for your success. Do you not think you shall find this the pleasantest course?"—"Yes sir," answered every scholar. "Are you willing to pledge yourselves to adopt it?" "Yes sir." "Those who are, may raise their hands," said the teacher. Every hand was raised; and the pledge, there was evidence to believe, was honorably sustained.

16. Keeping Resolutions. The following are notes of a familiar lecture on this subject, given by a teacher at some general exercise in the school. The practice of thus reducing to writing what the teacher may say on such subjects will be attended with excellent effects.

17. Topics. c. The plan of the Topic Exercise, as we called it, is this. Six or seven topics are given out, information upon which is to be obtained from any source, and communicated verbally before the whole school, or sometimes before a class formed for this purpose, the next day. The subjects are proposed both by teacher and scholars, and if approved, adopted. The exercise is intended to be voluntary, but ought to be managed in a way sufficiently interesting to induce all to join.

At the commencement of the exercise the teacher calls upon all who have any information in regard to the topic assigned, suppose, for example it is Alabaster, to rise. Perhaps twenty individuals out of forty rise. The teacher may, perhaps, say to those in their seats,

"Do you not know any thing of this subject? Have you neither seen nor heard of Alabaster, and had no means of ascertaining any thing in regard to it? If you have, you ought to rise. It is not necessary that you should state a fact altogether new and unheard of, but if you tell me its color, or some of the uses to which it is applied, you will be complying with my request."

After these remarks, perhaps a few more rise, and possibly the whole school. Individuals are then called upon at random, each to state only one particular in regard to the topic in question. This arrangement is made so as to give all an opportunity to speak: If any scholar, after having mentioned one fact, has something still farther to communicate, she remains standing till called upon again. As soon as an individual has exhausted her stock of information, or if the facts that she intended to mention are stated by another, she takes her seat.

The topics at first most usually selected, are the common objects by which we are surrounded; for example, glass, iron, mahogany, &c. The list will gradually extend itself, until it will embrace a large number of subjects.

The object of this exercise is to induce pupils to seek for general information in an easy and pleasant manner, as by the perusal of books, newspapers, periodicals, and conversation with friends. It induces care and attention in reading, and discrimination in selecting the most useful and important facts from the mass of information. As individuals are called upon, also, to express their ideas verbally, they soon acquire by practice, the power of expressing their ideas with clearness and force, and communicating with ease and confidence the knowledge they possess.

18. Music. c. The girls of our school often amused themselves in recess by collecting into little groups for singing. As there seemed to be a sufficient power of voice and a respectable number who were willing to join in the performance, it was proposed one day, that singing should be introduced as a part of the devotional exercises of the school.

The first attempt nearly resulted in a failure; only a few trembling voices succeeded in singing Old Hundred, to the words, "Be thou," &c. On the second day, Peterborough was sung with much greater confidence on the part of the increased number of singers. The experiment was tried with greater and greater success for several days, when the Teacher proposed that a systematic plan should be formed, by which there night be singing regularly at the close of school. It was then proposed, that a number of Singing books be obtained, and one of the scholars, who was well acquainted with common tunes, be appointed as chorister. Her duty should be, to decide what particular tune may be sung each day, inform the Teacher of the metre of the hymn, and take the lead in the exercise. This plan being approved of by the scholars, was adopted, and put into immediate execution. Several brought copies of the Sabbath School Hymn Book which they had in their possession, and the plan succeeded beyond all expectation. The greatest difficulty in the way was to get some one to lead. The chorister, however, was somewhat relieved from the embarrassment which she would naturally feel in making a beginning, by the appointment of one or two individuals with herself, who were to act as her assistants. These constituted the leading Committee, or as it was afterwards termed, Singing Committee.

Singing now became a regular and interesting exercise of the school, and the Committee succeeded in managing the business themselves.

19. Tabu. c. An article was one day read in a school relating to the "Tabu" of the Sandwich Islanders. Tabu is a term with them which signifies consecrated,—not to be touched—to be let alone—not to be violated. Thus according to their religious observances, a certain day will be proclaimed Tabu, that is, one upon which there is to be no work, or no going out.

A few days after this article was read, the scholars observed one morning, a flower stuck up in a conspicuous place against the wall, with the word TABU in large characters above it. This excited considerable curiosity. The teacher informed them, in explanation, that the flower was a very rare and beautiful specimen brought by one of the scholars, which he wished all to examine. "You would naturally feel a disposition to examine it by the touch;" said he, "but you will all see, that by the time it was touched by sixty individuals, it would be likely to be injured, if not destroyed. So I concluded to label it, Tabu. And it has occurred to me that this will be a convenient mode of apprising you generally, that any article had better not be handled. You know we sometimes have some apparatus exposed, which would be liable to injury from disturbance, where there are so many persons to touch it. I shall in such a case, just mention that an article is Tabu, and you will understand that it is not only not to be injured, but not even touched."

A little delicate management of this sort will often have more influence over young persons, than the most vehement scolding, or the most watchful and jealous precautions. The Tabu was always most scrupulously regarded, after this, whenever employed.

20. Mental Analysis. Scene; a class in Arithmetic at recitation. The teacher gives them an example in addition, requesting them when they have performed it to rise. Some finish it very soon, others are very slow in accomplishing the work.

"I should like to ascertain," says the teacher, "how great is the difference of rapidity, with which different members of the class work in addition. I will give you another example, and then notice by my watch, the shortest and longest time required to do it."

The result of the experiment was, that some members of the class were two or three times as long in doing it, as others.

"Perhaps you think," said the teacher, "that this difference is altogether owing to difference of skill, but it is not. It is mainly owing to the different methods adopted by various individuals. I am going to describe some of these, and as I describe them, I wish you would notice them carefully, and tell me which you practice.

There are then three modes of adding up a column of figures, which I shall describe."

1. "I shall call the first counting. You take the first figure, and then add the next to it, by counting up regularly. There are three distinct ways of doing this.

(a.) Counting by your fingers. ("Yes sir.") You take the first figure,—suppose it is seven, and the one above it, eight. Now you recollect that to add eight, you must count all the fingers of one hand, and all but two again. So you say seven—eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen."

"Yes sir," "Yes sir," said the scholars.

(b.) "The next mode of counting is to do it mentally, without using your fingers at all, but as it is necessary for you to have some plan to secure your adding the right number, you divide the units into sets of two each. Thus you remember that eight consists of four twos, and you accordingly say, when adding eight to seven, seven;—eight, nine;—ten, eleven;—twelve, thirteen;" &c.

(c.) "The third mode is, to add by three, in the same way. You recollect that eight consists of two threes and a two; so you say, seven;—eight, nine, ten;—eleven, twelve, thirteen;—fourteen, fifteen."

The teacher here stops to ascertain how many of the class are accustomed to add in either of these modes. It is a majority.

2. "The next general method is calculating. That is, you do not unite one number to another by the dull and tedious method of applying the units, one by one, as in the ways described under the preceding head, but you come to a result more rapidly by some mode of calculating. These modes are several.

(a.) Doubling a number, and then adding or subtracting as the case may require. For instance in the example already specified; in order to add seven and eight, you say, "Twice seven are fourteen and one are fifteen;" ("Yes sir," "Yes sir,") or "Twice eight are sixteen, and taking one off, leaves fifteen. ("Yes sir.")

(b.) Another way of calculating is to skip about the column, adding those numbers which you can do most easily, and then bringing in the rest as you best can. Thus, if you see three eights in one column, you say three times eight are twenty-four, and then you try to bring in the other numbers. Often in such cases, you forget what you have added and what you have not, and get confused, ("Yes sir,") or you omit something in your work, and consequently it is incorrect.

(c.) If nines occur, you sometimes add ten, and then take off one, for it is very easy to add ten.

(d.) Another method of calculating, which is, however, not very common, is this. To take our old case, adding eight to seven, you take as much from the eight to add to the seven as will be sufficient to make ten, and then it will be easy to add the rest. Thus, you think in a minute, that three from the eight will make the seven a ten, and then there will be five more to add, which will make fifteen. If the next number was seven, you would say five of it will make twenty, and then there will be two left, which will make twenty-two. This mode, though it may seem more intricate than any of the others, is in fact more rapid than any of them, when one is little accustomed to it.

These are the four principal modes of calculating which occur to me. Pupils do not generally practice any one of them exclusively, but occasionally resort to each, according to the circumstances of the particular case."

The teacher here stopped to inquire how many of the class were accustomed to add by calculating in either of these ways; or in any simpler ways.

3. "There is one more mode which I shall describe: it is by Memory. Before I explain this mode I wish to ask you some questions which I should like to have you answer as quick as you can.

How much is four times five?—Four and five?

How much is seven times nine?—Seven and nine?

Eight times six?—Eight and six?

Nine times seven?—Nine and seven?"

After asking a few questions of this kind, it was perceived that the pupils could tell much more readily what was the result when the numbers were to be multiplied, then when they were to be added.

"The reason is," said the teacher, "because you committed the multiplication table to memory, and have not committed the addition table. Now many persons have committed the addition table, so that it is perfectly familiar to them, and when they see any two numbers, the amount which is produced when they are added together comes to mind in an instant. Adding in this way is the last of the three modes I was to describe.

Now of these three methods, the last is undoubtedly the best. If you once commit the addition table thoroughly, you have it fixed for life; whereas if you do not, you have to make the calculation over again every time, and thus lose a vast amount of labor. I have no doubt that there are some in this class who are in the habit of counting, who have ascertained that seven and eight for instance, make fifteen; by counting up from seven to fifteen, hundreds of times. Now how much better it would be, to spend a little time in fixing the fact in the mind once for all, and then when you come to the case, seven and eight are—say at once "Fifteen,"—instead of mumbling over and over again, hundreds of times, "Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen."

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

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