P E D A G O G Y
FOR YOUNG TEACHERS
EDWIN C. HEWETT, LL.D.
President Of The Illinois State Normal University
VAN ANTWERP, BRAGG & CO.
CINCINNATI. NEW YORK.
BY VAN ANTWERP, BRAGG & CO
VAN ANTWERP, BRAGG & CO
THIS little book is a growth. Into that growth, several elements
have entered: among them are the author's experience as a pupil,
first in the country district schools of New England; and his
experience, for more than thirty years, as a teacher; together
with the digested results of his reading and thinking on educational
themes. He has here embodied the substance his instruction to
many successive classes in Normal Schools, and the substance of
numerous addresses before Teachers' Institutes and other educational
No attempt has been made to amplify any of the topics treated;
on the contrary, a constant and persistent effort has been made
to condense to the utmost limit consistent with clearness.
This is not a book of methods, although a few methods will be
found in it. Its aim is, rather, to present, in a brief and compact
form, such principles as underlie and give form to all methods
worthy of attention.
As the title implies, the book as been written with special regard
to the needs of young teachers, or of candidates for the teacher's
office. But the author does not expect that such young persons
will be able to master the book by a cursory reading; he does,
however, flatter himself that young persons of good ability will
be able to master the book thoroughly by careful and patient study.
Psychology is made the basis of the treatise; the author believes
that in no other way can the subject be treated in a rational
or scientific manner. Nothing in the present trend of educational
thought is more marked than the growing desire to found all systems
and methods of educational training on the principles revealed
by a thorough inductive study of human nature.
Complete "Schemes" have been introduced, because the author has
found that they were very helpful to his own students in their
efforts to grasp and retain these subjects in an orderly and methodical
way. If they are faithfully used, be believes that they may do
the same good service for the reader that they have done for this
students in the classroom.
The author does not flatter himself that every reader will yield
a ready assent to all his statements; but he has given his opinions
freely, as they have been formed in the light of his own thinking
and experience. He bespeaks for them a candid consideration, and
an acceptance, if, after careful thought, they shall seem reasonable.
Originality is by no means claimed for all that is here presented.
The author has freely availed himself of any thing that his judgment
commended, wherever it might be found. Yet, he has rarely expressed
himself in the words of another.
This little book is sent forth with the hope that it may be found
of some value in Normal Schools, Teachers' Classes, and Teachers'
Institutes, as well as in the private reading of teachers, and,
it may be added, of parents, also. If it shall contribute something
to improve the training of the youth of our country, and to bring
upon the stage of active life a generation better fitted to enjoy
its privileges and to discharge its duties worthily, the author
will be fully repaid for his labor.
EDWIN C. HEWETT.
NORMAL, JANUARY 18, 1884.
ILLINOIS STATE NORMAL UNIVERSITY,
Pedagogy.--This new word, Pedagogy, * means the science and art
of teaching; but it means more than that. It means the taking
of young children, and, by means of both skillful teaching and
wise training, leading them up to worthy manhood and womanhood.
It has been said that the ability to do this work well requires
knowledge of three distinct kinds, or in three distinct fields;
namely, a knowledge of the being who is to be taught and trained,
a knowledge of those branches, by the study of which his mental
growth is to be promoted, and a knowledge of the proper methods
by which the matter to be taught, and the being to be taught,
shall be brought into the most healthful and fruitful relations
to each other.
Man: his Nature and Powers
.---It is, therefore, proper that we should begin our work by
a consideration of the nature and powers of the being that we
propose to teach and train. Man is curiously made up of mind and
matter, so wonderfully blended that no one can tell exactly how
they live and work together. Of the real nature of both mind and
matter, we are profoundly ignorant. No one can tell what either
is : we can study their phenomena only.
Man has a body, and he has a mind; he has, also powers that belong
to the body, and others that belong to the mind. Pedagogy must
study the laws of development and action, relating to both classes
POWER is the ability to do something .
For the sake of distinction, we may call the powers that pertain
to the body, as those shown by the muscles, material powers; and we may call those powers that pertain especially
to the mind, as the power to remember, the power to love, etc.,
immaterial powers. To be sure, the mind's powers do not show themselves
wholly independent of the body. When we remember or love, we use
the brain; but we do not believe that the changes in the brain
make memory or love, although the exercise of these powers is
without doubt accompanied by changes in the brain. We do not believe
that "the brain secretes thought as the liver secretes bile."
The truth seems to be that, in some way not fully understood,
the mind uses the brain as its instrument.
Our best philosophers teach us that the mind itself is one indivisible
thing: it does not possess organs, as the body does, nor it is
a bundle of powers; but it has many powers which it can exercise
in various ways. When we love, it is the entire mind that loves,
and not part of it, although it may work with more or less force
in the act. The same is true when we remember, when we will, etc.
Grand Divisions of Mental Power.---The powers of the mind, or
the immaterial powers of man, are very numerous; but he may all
be arranged in three classes. This is the teaching of almost all
of the modern philosophers; but, formerly, philosophers divided
these powers into two groups instead of three.
The three groups of immaterial powers, or the powers of mind,
1st, Those powers by which we know, or the Intellect.
2nd, Those by which we feel, or the Sensibility.
3rd, The power by which we choose and execute, or the Will.
In speaking of the immaterial powers of man and their phenomena,
we are obliged to borrow most of our terms from the body and its
phenomena. This is a somewhat unfortunate, as the terms thus borrowed
are likely to be misunderstood. The word feel, which we have just
used, is an example of such a term. When one speaks of feeling
sorrow, he means something very different from that which he means
when he speaks of feeling the table with his finger. In the latter
case, he means an affection of the mind through the nerves of
the body. This is perception, or an exercise of one of the knowing
powers. In the former case, he means an affection of the mind
independent of the nerves, as when he feels sorrow for the loss
of a friend. This is an exercise of sensibility.
The action of the three grand classes of mental powers may be
illustrated in the following way: You take up a newspaper and
read of the floods in the lower Mississippi valley. You are able
to understand what the writer says -- to think his thoughts after
him -- and his thoughts awaken new thoughts of your own. Thus,
you see that you have the power to know, to think, -- or, you
have Intellect. As you read of the sufferings the floods cause
the people, you begin to pity them and to desire to relieve their
suffering. You thus see that you have the power to feel, --or,
you possess Sensibility. You learn that others are sending money
to aid these poor people; moved by your feelings, you determine
to join in the contribution. Thus, you see that you have the power
to choose, to determine, --or, you have Will.
Thus, we have represented the three grand classes of mental powers;
nor is there any mental faculty that can not be properly grouped
under one of these three classes. Moreover, these classes of mental
powers always act in the order here given. It is inconceivable
that we should have feeling in regard to any matter till we know
something about it, or think we do. Nor do we ever put forth any
activity of the will till we are prompted to it by the same feeling.
This is illustrated in the case of the "prodigal son." He "came
to himself," and thought; he felt, in respect to his wretched
condition and the plenty at his father's house; he then resolved
to arise and go to his father.
A wise writer, or orator, or teacher, who wants to lead men up
to a resolution, always observe this order. He strives first to
awaken thought, -- to make people know something about the matter
in hand. He then seeks to arouse their feelings in view of what
they know and think. It is only after both these results are reached
that he hopes to bring them to any resolution, or choice, or action,
respecting the matter.
THE group of knowing powers, or the Intellect, is subdivided into
four groups, viz.: the Presentative Powers, the Representative
Powers, the Reflective Powers, and the Intuitive Power.
The presentative powers give us knowledge of the outside world
through the senses.
The representative powers give us concepts of absent objects.
The reflective powers show us the relations and connections of
objects, or of their concepts.
The intuitive power is the power by which we know certain fundamental
things without being taught.
The word "object" must not be confined to material things.
The Presentative Powers. -- The Presentative Powers, often called
the Perceptives, seem to get their name in this way: The ancients
used to divide the universe, for every man, into the Ego and the
Non-ego; the Ego is the man himself, and the Non-ego includes
everything except himself. The presentative powers, or the senses,
present, as it were, the things of the Non-ego to the Ego, shut
up, as he seems to be, somewhere in this bodily tenement,--they
are a kind of "introductions committee."
The senses are commonly said to be five in number,--Feeling, or
the sense of touch; Seeing, Hearing, Tasting, and Smelling. To
these, some philosophers add a sixth sense, which they call the
Sense of Resistance to the muscular effort.
FEELING is the most general of all the senses, as it extends over
the whole body, wherever the nerves are found. There is some propriety
in saying that the others senses are modifications of feeling,
because they all require special nerves for their action. All
these special nerves are located in the head. Two of the sense,
seeing and hearing, in addition to the special nerves, also require
curiously constructed organs.
Most of the words used to designate the powers of the mind may
also signify the acts which the powers perform; thus, Feeling
may mean the power to feel, or the act of feeling. The same is
true of Memory, Judgment, etc. Whenever we use one of these words,
we do well to think carefully whether we mean by it the power,
or the act which that power is able to perform.
The sense of feeling make us acquainted with such objects only
as are close to us. It also acts slowly, from the parts to the
whole; this is illustrated by the actions of a blind man as he
studies objects that he handles. We all act in a similar way when
we grope in the dark.
SEEING is very different; it shows us objects that are near, or
very distant, and it acts very rapidly; it gives us notions of
things as wholes at first, and afterward studies their parts.
The special nerves of sight are called the optic nerves. But sight
can not act when light is absent, nor when the rays are obstructed
by opaque objects.
HEARING.--The medium through which we hear must always be present
where life is possible, for it is the air we breathe; nor do intervening
objects wholly prevent our hearing. No other sense affects the
emotions so quickly or so deeply as hearing; this is seen in the
effects of music, or of the tones of the voice. The auditory nerve
is special nerve of hearing.
The senses we have considered make us acquainted with the size,
shape, position, resonance, etc., of bodies; in other words, with
such qualities as have relation to space.
TASTING AND SMELLING.--But tasting and smelling, by means of the
gustatory and olfactory nerves, enable us to learn much of the
composition and condition of bodies. We judge by these senses
whether substance are fit to be taken into our organism or not.
Hence, the special nerves for these senses are found in the mouth
and nose, the gateways to the stomach and lungs.
SENSE OF RESISTANCE.--When you allow an object to merely touch
your hand, you simply feel it; but when you let it rest upon your
hand, and put forth muscular effort to sustain it, your sense
seems to give you something besides simple feeling; you have a
sense of something resisting your muscular effort. This is why
philosophers say that there is a sixth sense; and they say that
no other sense makes us know so soon and so certainly that there
are objects outside of our own organism.
Teachers can teach young children a great many truths about the
"five senses," but they would better say nothing about the sixth
sense. Children should understand that it is the mind that acts
through these nerves and organs of the senses. The eye does not
see; but the mind sees by means of the eye.
Because the sense of resistance to muscular effort is not regarded
by all as a separate sense, distinct from mere feeling, we have
placed an interrogation mark after it in the scheme.
The Representative Powers.--The representative powers give us
concepts of absent objects in two ways; viz., either as they are
or were, or as they might be. When the concept is as the object
was or is, the mental act is reproduction. If you know that the
thing reproduced is a concept of some former mental possession,
you recognize it, or know it again. These two mental acts--reproduction
and recognition--make up the act of memory; hence,
MEMORY is that representative power which brings before the mind
concepts of absent objects as they are or were, and recognizes
Concepts of anything the mind has ever possessed, -- sights, sounds,
tastes, thoughts, feelings, former concepts, etc., may thus come
before the mind and be recognized, for memory can bring before
us all these things.
It is probable that a very large share of the concepts that are
really reproductions are not recognized; they may seem to us to
be original; often we question when a thing "comes into the mind,"
whether it is something that we remember, or is really a new thing.
Not long since, a certain eminent preacher was accused of plagiarism.
It seems to be clear that he had used in his sermon whole sentences
just as they were to be found in a book, which he had admitted
he had read. His defense was that his mind had great tenacity
in retaining words, and that these words were not recognized when
they were reproduced. Whatever the fact may have been, his defense
was psychologically a plausible one.
IMAGINATION is that representative power which gives us concepts of absent
objects, not as they are or were, but as they might be.
Illustrations .--You turn your face towards a church and notice carefully how
it looks; you are now perceiving it by sight. You turn away, and before your "mind's eye" stands
the same form as clearly as before: the representative power has
reproduced a concept of what was perceived. You know that you are conceiving
of the building as it was, so you recognize the concept,--you remember the building.
You now begin to play with this concept; you replace the brick
with stone; you give it extra towers; you elevate the spire to
twice its present height, etc. You are now conceiving of the absent
object as it might be. Imagination is at work.
THE INTELLECT. -- Concluded.
The Reflective Power acts in several ways; authors do not agree
fully in respect to their number. We may safely indicate five
of these ways of acting, and perhaps the list will not be exhausted.
The five of which we shall speak are: Comparing, Abstracting, Judging, Generalizing, and Reasoning .
By some authors, the Reflective Power is called the Understanding;
by others, it is called the Elaborative Faculty.
Because writers on Psychology do not agree as to the exact number
of forms in which the Reflective Power acts, we have placed the
abbreviation Etc. After our list, in the Scheme.
COMPARING.--As the Reflective Power deals with the relations of
things, or of the concepts of things, rather than with the things
themselves, it will be obvious that much of its action must be
in the form of comparison. It notes the relations of size, length,
position, density, value, purpose, cause and effect, agreement,
and a multitude of others.
Comparison is clearly involved in abstracting, judging, generalizing,
reasoning, etc.; hence, some writers regard comparison as including
all the various forms of the Reflecting Power.
ABSTRACTING.--It is seen that the process of abstraction is a
very common one, when we observe the large number of abstract
terms which are used even by children and uncultivated people.
The process of abstraction has sometimes been illustrated in this
way: you look at several objects having a common color, as a red
ribbon, a red book, a red necktie, etc. You note their color in
connection with the other qualities of those objects. You now
perceive the color in the concrete. You turn away, or shut your
eyes, and think of what you have just seen; you now conceive the
color in the concrete. Again, you drop out of thought all the
other qualities of the several objects, but still think of the
color in connection with each object; you are now conceiving of
the color in the discrete. Once more, all thought of the objects
disappears, and you think of the color only, apart from every
object and from all other qualities. You are now conceiving of
redness in the abstract,--that is, drawn away from everything
else. It is probable that some such process as this is often gone
through with by those who have not thought of the peculiar form
of mental activity they are exercising.
JUDGING.--In judging, the mind holds before itself two concepts,
and decides that they agree or disagree; these concepts may be
simple or very complex. You bring before your mind a concept of
the thing we call snow, and a concept of the quality whiteness;
you decide that these agree, and you say, "Snow is white." You
bring before your mind a concept of the act called murder, and
a concept of the quality rightness; you decide that they do not
agree, and you say, "Murder is not right." Every judgment, then,
involves two concepts, and the decision respecting them.
PROPOSITION.--The expression of a judgment is a proposition .
This definition is often expressed in a false form by saying,
"A proposition is a judgment expressed." In objection to this,
we say a proposition is not a judgment expressed or unexpressed;
the judgment is the thing, the proposition is the expression or
symbol of the thing. Here, as everywhere, the teacher can not
afford to confound a thing and its symbol.
As a judgment involves three things, so a proposition must have
three parts; these we call subject, attribute, and copula. The
subject is the word or words denoting the principle concept; the
attribute is the word or words denoting the related concept; and
the copula is the word or words expressing the decision. Both
copula and attribute may be expressed by a single word, as in
the proposition, Water flows. In this relation of judgment and
proposition is the foundation of grammar.
GENERALIZING.--In generalizing, the mind acts in a direction the
reverse of that in abstracting; instead of taking several objects
and drawing from them a common quality, we take a quality and
group together the objects that possess it. A large part of the
work of the student of natural science is of this kind. If we
take the quality of possessing a backbone, we may group together
all the animals that have this quality, and call them vertebrates.
Of course, an act of judgment must precede the putting of every
object into its class, or the rejection of it from a class.
The common quality according to which we generalize may be obvious,
but not important, as in the formation of the group of animals
called quadrupeds; in such a case, we have merely a loose classification.
In true generalization, or scientific classification, we arrange
the objects with reference to some important or fundamental quality.
Should a servant girl classify a library, probably she would do
it very loosely, putting together books of the same color, or
size, or condition; the owner would classify by arranging the
books according to their contents,--putting together those which
treat of a common subject.
REASONING.--We can not enter very fully into the subject of Reasoning,--Logic
is a science in itself. In a process of systematic reasoning,
we compare two related propositions, and deduce a third which
necessarily follows from the comparison. The two given propositions
are called premises; the on derived is called the conclusion.
To illustrate: 1st, Four pencils cost four times as much as one
pencil; 2nd, One pencil costs three cents; hence, 3rd, Four pencils
cost four times three cents, or twelve cents. Here the first premise
states a general truth; the second premise states a contingent
truth, and the conclusion inevitably follows from the premises.
The two premises and the conclusion together make up a syllogism.
A process of reasoning may make clear what is involved in the
premises, but it can never lead to the discovery of any thing
not contained in the premises.
The Intuitive Power
.--It is said that the Intuitive Power acts in only one way, but
its products are of two kinds. By this power, we know certain
necessary, self-evident truths, and also certain fundamental notions
Some assert that we get all our knowledge, of every sort, through
experience and reflection; they claim that this is as true in
regard to what we have called the truths and ideas of intuition
as it is of our knowledge of the qualities of objects. We hold,
however, that observation and experience merely furnish an occasion
for this kind of knowledge; they do not cause us to have it.
TRUTHS.--Thus, we know that a part can not equal the whole; we
know that the same thing can not be in two places at the same
time; we know that a statement can not be both true and not true
at the same time and in the same sense. All such truths every
sane and sound mind knows at once, as soon as it is capable of
comprehending clearly what is said. We can not disbelieve them,
if we try. No attempt at proof can make us believe them any more
firmly. In fact, no proof of them is possible; we may illustrate
such truths, but we can not demonstrate them. Many of these truths
are included in the axioms of mathematics; but there are axioms
which do not belong to mathematics.
All necessary, self-evident truths, have these three characteristics:
1st, They are true everywhere, and at all times; 2d, They can
not be demonstrated; 3d, The contradictory of any one of them
is manifestly absurd. To illustrate, take the axiom that a whole
is equal to the sum of all its parts. This must be true everywhere,
and it must be true at all times. We may illustrate it,--that
is, we may show it to be true in any given case; but we can not
prove that it will always be true in every case. The contradictory,
viz., that the whole is not equal to the sum of all its parts,
is seen to be absurd at once by any one capable of understanding
IDEAS.--Philosophers do not agree as to the number of fundamental
ideas given us by Intuition. We may safely say that there are
seven of them, at least; viz., Being, Time, Space, Beauty, Cause, Right, and Personal Identity .
Being .--By the intuitive idea of Being, we mean that all men naturally
and always believe in the existence of themselves and of other
things. None but crazy men and some philosophers ever think or
talk as if there could be any doubt about this.
Time .--The intuitive idea of Time means the necessary notion of time
as passing whenever we think of the occurrence of events. We can
not rid ourselves of this idea; in thought we may empty time of
every event, but we can not think the time away. In respect to
definite amounts of time, we exercise our judgment and experience;
but the idea that there must be some amount of time is intuitive.
Space .--The intuitive idea of Space is very similar. We judge the
amounts of space in any particular instance, but we can not get
rid of the idea that space is, and must be; we can empty it in
thought, but we can not think it away, nor think of it as finite.
Beauty.--The intuitive idea of Beauty is that there is, and must
be, such a thing as beauty; or in other words, that some things
are beautiful and some are not. The child shows that he has this
idea very early; "pretty" is one of his first words. The judgment
decides as to the beauty of any particular thing, and the decisions
differ very widely.
Cause .--We believe intuitively that every effect must have a cause;
the child shows that this idea is inherent by his questions "Why?"
"What makes it?" etc. A cause that is not itself caused is inconceivable
to him; is it not beyond the conception of any one? Judgment pronounces
as to what the cause is, in a particular case.
It is highly important that we do not confound the occasion of
a thing with its cause. The occasion of a thing allows it to be
or to be done; the cause makes it to be or to be done. To illustrate:
The expansive force of steam is the cause of motion in the locomotive;
the opening of the valve, or throttle, is the occasion of the
Right .--The idea that there is such a thing as Right,--that some things
are right, and others are wrong,--seems to be intuitive. "Is it
right?" is a question that has a meaning to a very young child;
parents and teachers would do better to ask it more frequently.
Judgment decides whether a specific thing is right or not.
Personal Identity .--No sane person can divest himself of the idea that he is himself,--the
same personality that he always has been,--it is intuitive; he
is conscious that it is so, and that is the end of all question.
Nor would the testimony of a thousand strengthen his conviction.
We may say that a knowledge of these fundamental, intuitive truths
and ideas is innate, --that is, we are so constituted at birth
that, as soon as the occasion arises for this knowledge, we have
it, and that without any instruction or study. And we take it
for granted that every one else has this knowledge the same as
we have; we pronounce one an idiot, or insane, if he is lacking
in this respect. For, a recognition of these products of Intuition
constitutes what we call natural reason; and when one loses this
knowledge,--as, for instance, when one loses this knowledge,--as,
for instance, when one imagines himself the Czar of Russia,--we
say that he has lost his reason. Reason, as we here use it, must
not be confounded with the Power of reasoning; some insane people
can reason most logically, but they have lost their reason, as
they show in various ways.
.--Let us look, for a moment, at the four grand forms of intellectual
power, as we have studied them.
The Presentative Powers gather knowledge for us.
The Representative Powers treasure the knowledge we have gained.
The Reflective Power examines this knowledge, and discovers its
import and its value and use.
The Intuitive Power gives us a knowledge of the regulative truths
and ideas that must be regarded in our work.
Or, if we compare knowledge to grain, the presentative powers
are the reaper; the representative powers are the granary; the
reflective power is the mill, and the intuitive power provides
for the correct performance of the work. Grain is of no value
till it is gathered and stored; nor can it be of any use until
it is ground; but let us remember that every thing which shall
appear in the final product must have gone into the "hopper."
The mill creates nothing.
THE SENSIBILITY, WILL, ETC.
.---We have studied briefly the different forms of intellectual
power; we will now turn our attention to the Sensibility. We shall
not attempt an exhaustive analysis of this power, but we will
mention only a few of its forms that are most concerned in the
work of the educator. We will speak of the Appetites and Desires, Loves, Hates, Admiration, and Reverence.
Appetites and Desires.--When we speak of the Appetites, we usually
mean such desires as have reference to the body, like the desire
for sleep, food, etc. We use the term Desires in distinction from
Appetites, to signify such desires as do not pertain especially
to bodily wants, as the desire for praise, for excellence, etc.
LOVES.--We put the word Love in the plural, meaning to include
not only what may strictly be called love, as love of friends,
country, etc., but also what might be more properly called a liking,
as a fondness for fine dress, for certain articles of food, etc.
HATES.--The word Hate is put in the plural for a similar reason.
We mean by it not only hate properly so called, as a hate for
evil things, but also all the different aversions and dislikes,
ADMIRATION.--The word Admiration was formerly nearly synonymous
with wonder. It retains something of the same meaning still, but
there is added to wonder a sense of approbation as well. We admire
that which seems to us wonderful and pleasing at the same time.
REVERENCE.--By Reverence, we mean a profound respect for what
is great or good, or both. When it becomes intense, we call it
Conscience.---There is another very important power or faculty
of the mind which we would class with the sensibilities, or emotions,
or feelings, although it is by no means so placed by all writers.
We refer to the Conscience, which we believe is primarily and
properly a feeling; but many, holding that conscience includes
a judgment of what is right or wrong, as well as a feeling in
respect to what is right or wrong, are inclined to class it among
the knowing faculties, or, perhaps, rather to put it in a class
by itself. We would define Conscience as follows:
CONSCIENCE is the feeling that prompts us to do what we believe
is right, and to avoid what we believe is wrong, and that commends
us when we obey it, and condemns us when we disobey it.
It is judgment that determines whether any particular thing is
right or wrong. In respect to their judgments as to what is right
and what is wrong, men differ widely; their conclusions are sometimes
diametrically opposed to each other. Yet, regarding the right
or wrong of many things, as murder, cruelty, oppression, kindness,
truth, honesty, etc., the judgments of men are nearly harmonious.
But, if our definition of conscience is correct, then we may say
that conscience is the same in all men, and in all ages; its action
is always uniform. It is said that the Hindoo mother conscientiously
throws her babe into the Ganges, while the Christian mother conscientiously
preserves and cherishes her offspring; and, hence, we are told
that conscience acts very differently in different cases. Now,
it seems clear that conscience is the same, and acts in the same
way, in both women; each does what she believes to be right. Owing
to a difference in education, probably, their judgments lead to
different conclusions; but in their consciences, they agree completely.
We have said that our definition of conscience would not be accepted
at all; but we believe it to be correct. If it were accepted,
and the proper distinction between judgment and conscience were
always kept in mind, many of the vexatious disputes concerning
conscience would be settled, or, at least, the discussion would
The Will.---The action of the Will takes only one form, but it involves two
elements, as appears in the following definition :
There is not action of the Will when we execute without any choice;
nor does choice constitute an act of the Will unless some effort
is put forth in consequence of our choice. A mere choice, with
no attempt at execution, is a wish. The moral quality of actions
resides in the choices which lead to them; nor can we avoid the
responsibility of choice. If, between any two courses of action,
we choose not to follow either, we have exercised the power of
choice in the act of not choosing.
THE WILL is the Power by which we choose and execute.
There is no action of the Will when we execute without any choice;
nor does choice constitute an act of the Will unless some effort
is put forth in consequence of our choice. A mere choice, with
no attempt at execution, is a wish. The moral quality of actions
resides in the choices which lead to them; nor can we avoid the
responsibility of choice. If, between any two courses of actions,
we choose not to follow either, we have exercised the power of
choice in the act of not choosing.
.---We have already defined a Power as the ability to do something;
but some philosophers make a distinction between a mental Power
and a mental Faculty.
A FACULTY is a power under the control of the Will, having a specific work
of its own to do .
According to this definition, we must class Seeing, Memory, Judgment,
Love, etc., as mental faculties. But the mind has three very important
powers that do not answer to the definition of faculties; these
are, Consciousness, Attention, and Conception.
The powers of Consciousness, Attention, and Conception never act
separately from each other, nor from some one or more of the mind's
faculties. These powers are not co-ordinate with the other mental
powers, but are connected with them all. Hence, in the Scheme
on page 14, [scheme II] their names are written across, opposite
a brace that includes the powers of all the three Grand Divisions.
CONSCIOUSNESS is the power the mind has to know its own actions and states,
and know them as belonging to the Ego .
This is not a faculty; it is not under the control of the Will,
nor does it perform any specific act of itself--it gives cognizance
of the acts performed by the faculties.
Whether there can be any mental action of which we are not conscious,
is a question that has been much discussed. It seems very clear
that there can be no proper activity of the mind if we are not
conscious of that activity; not to know that one sees, is not
to see. No doubt, however, there is a great deal of brain activity
of which we are not conscious. When we perform any habitual act,
as walking, we know that every muscular movement is prompted by
an action of the brain, directly or indirectly; but, having once
put the "machine in motion," we have not consciousness of the
further action of the brain; the movements seem to be purely automatic.
There is brain activity, no doubt, but we believe that it does
not involve any mental activity, properly speaking.
What we have called brain activity, as distinct from mental activity,
is called "unconscious cerebration" by many writers.
Some writers speak of "unconscious knowledge." Such an expression
seems to be contradictory in terms. Yet much of our knowledge,
doubtless, has not been consciously formulated; a child or a savage
knows that a part can not equal the whole, and still he may not
be able to state his knowledge to another,--perhaps his mind has
never conceived such a statement.
ATTENTION is the power the mind has to bring all its force to bear on one
Important as this power is, it produces no result alone, and of
itself. Hence, it is not to be considered a faculty, although
it is under the control of the Will.
When we say that Attention is under the control of the Will, we
do not mean that it never acts except in obedience to a mandate
of the Will, but simply that the Will can cause it to act. The
same is true of other voluntary powers; we often remember without
willing to do so, but Memory can be moved by the Will.
If it be asked how the mind turns its force to one thing in an
act of the attention, the answer seems to be that it is done by
not allowing the mental force to move toward any thing else.
Illustration .--The mental current may be compared to a stream of water--it
flows constantly. In revery and absence of attention, it is like
that stream flowing down the mountain side, and spreading, unrestricted,
over the meadows; it may be pleasant enough, but it does not work.
When one wishes to put the stream to work, he puts a dam across
it, and allows no place of escape, except at the point where he
puts his wheel. So we put the mind to work by confining the mental
force to one point of escape. If we can do this completely, the
attention is perfect,-- no force is lost; if not, the power in
part escapes like lost water through a leaky dam.
The question is discussed, whether we can perform any mental act
without some degree of attention. As in the same question respecting
consciousness, the answer is clearly in the negative. The reason
is essentially the same; it is inconceivable that there can be
consciousness of that to which no attention is given.
It is also asked whether the mind can attend to more than one
thing at a time; much has been written on this question. It seems
clear that we can attend to several things; but, is such a case,
the attention is not perfect, of course.
CONCEPTION.--It is not easy to frame a short and satisfactory
definition for Conception, although there is a little difficulty
in mentioning the particular things that it does. It is the power
by which we see with the "mind's eye" things not present; by which
we perceive the abstract relations of things; by which we get
clear notions through discourse or thinking; by which we understand
why and how things may be, etc.
When a teacher, after explaining a problem in algebra, asks the
pupil if he "sees it," he means to ask if it is clear to his conception;
of course, he means to ask if it is clear to his conception; of
course, he has no reference to the act of sight. Perhaps the best
short statement for Conception, is to say that it is the power by which we see with the "minds eye." When we conceive of a thing fully, we see all its limitations;
we "take it in;" we comprehend it. But we often apprehend things
that we can not comprehend; just as one may see something of a
mountain when much of it is hidden in clouds.
We must not limit the possibility of things by our power to comprehend
them. Many possible things are inconceivable; for instance, the
matter of this earth must have been created out of nothing, or
it must always have existed in some form without any beginning;
both these things are utterly inconceivable, and yet not only
is one of them possible things are perfectly conceivable, as the
passage of a flying ship to the moon.
Conception is largely under the control of the Will, but it accompanies
all the other mental powers, and produces no specific work of
its own; hence, it is not a faculty.
There is a special use of the Conceptive power in forming abstract,
general concepts; for instance, when the ideas of surface limited
by three lines, are combined, we have the abstract, general concept
signified by the word triangle. This combination is made by Conception
acting with the Reflective Power; such a use of the Conceptive
Power my be called Logical Conception.
Use of the Powers
.---Having made this brief survey of the mental powers and faculties,
we may ask: Are some of these good and some bad? Are some to be
cherished and cultivated, and some to be crushed out? The truth
is, that all were given for a good use, and all may be abused;
it is just as wrong to love evil as to hate good. Even veneration
may work the greatest evil, as in the idolater. All these powers
are good in one sense, is they are well adapted to their purpose;
just as a knife is good, if it is made of good steel. But moral
goodness can not be predicated of the powers any more than it
can of the knife; the good knife may be used to carve a roast
or to kill a man, -- the moral quality lies in the use.
So all these powers may be used for good or for bad purposes,
and it should be the business of education to make all these powers
efficient, and also to lead to their right use in all cases, and
to prevent their wrong use.
WHAT IS EDUCATION?
WHAT is education? If this question were put to each person who
proposes to teach school, the answers would be very different.
Probably it would appear that many of the candidates for the teacher's
position had never seriously thought of the question,--had never
clearly set before their own minds the nature of the work they
were about to undertake.
Learning not Education
.---Doubtless, many would show that, in their thought, education
is simply the acquiring of knowledge,--the laying up of a store
of facts, in the memory; they would make learning and education
synonymous terms. Probably this is the common opinion of a majority
of our people. But is should be clearly understood that learning
is not education. Without doubt, they are closely related; learning
is an aid to education; on one can become truly educated without
becoming more or less learned. But the two words do not mean the
same thing. Learning is a possession; but education is a part
of one's self; it gives one the mastery of himself,--it trains
and develops his powers, and gives him control over them.
Many men are learned, but not educated; that is, they have an
extensive knowledge of the facts of science, or literature, or
history; but they have never learned how to use them is such a
way as to make them a source of power to themselves. On the other
hand, many men may be said to be well educated, who are not very
learned. They have no great stores of knowledge, but they have
made such use of the knowledge they have obtained that their powers
have been strengthened and developed, and they have come to be
masters of themselves. The stock of knowledge that they may have
acquired in school or college, or they may have acquired in school
or college, or they may have acquired most of it on the farm,
or in the factory, or shop; or, as in the case of Lincoln, by
poring over a few books by the light of a pine knot in the kitchen.
Definitions.--- "Education is the development of the faculties, or germs of power,
in man, and the training of them into harmonious action in obedience
to the laws of reason and morality ."
An eminent teacher has briefly defined education as cultured growth .
If we examine the word itself in respect to its radical meaning,
we get essentially the same thought; the root of the word, duc , is from a Latin verb meaning to lead , and the prefix e is from the preposition ex , meaning out .
EDUCATION is a leading out or developing of the powers whose germs the child
possesses at his birth .
All these definitions are in substantial harmony; and they show
that education really means much more than simply storing the
mind with facts. The getting of knowledge is an important part
of school work; but it is not all, nor is it the most important.
The development of power in all right directions is the main business
of the school, and all the knowledge obtained should be gained
and used in such a way as to help forward this growth of power.
Some writers on education are inclined to speak of certain studies
as useful chiefly in giving information, while others have their
chief value in the training they give,--they are a kind of mental
gymnastics. The last class of studies they sometimes call forming
studies; and the first, informing studies. This distinction does
not, however, seem to be a very wise one; all proper studies give
useful information, and all studies can be so pursued as to aid
in the development of mental power. And, however valuable the
knowledge gained, the growth of power should be the chief aim
of all our school work.
Relation of Teacher and Pupil.---Now, what can the teacher do
in the work of a true education? The work of the real educator
is quite like that of the skillful gardener or nurseryman. He
prepares the soil, he puts the seed in the proper place, he watches
the growing shoot, he stirs the earth about it, he removes weeds
and insects that would injure it, etc. In this way, the result
is something quite different from what it would have been without
the gardener, --the result is a "cultivated growth." The plant
has done the growing; the gardener has contributed the culture.
So with the person who is educated,--the result will depend chiefly
on the putting forth of his own power. Strictly speaking, one
can not give another an education; he may contribute the culture,
but the growth must always come from within, by the pupil's own
effort. It seems that there are only four things possible for
a teacher to do in this process, viz.:
He may arouse, incite, and encourage his pupil.
He may set before him the right kind and amount of work to do.
He may guide him to do the work in the right way.
He may make the circumstances favorable by saving him from the
annoyance of others, etc.
What more can he do?
Given Powers Only
.---Nor is it in the power of the educator to change the nature
of the child. Every child that is sound and sane is born with
the germs of all the powers common to human beings, but these
germs have very different degrees of strength in different persons.
Hence, it follows that no processes of education can make all
to be alike; nor can any one become very strong by a process of
education in any direction, if, by his native endowment, he is
weak in that direction.
If Newton had been educated for an artist, even under the best
teachers, and Angelo had been educated for a mathematician, under
teachers equally good, it is not at all probable that these eminent
men would have changed places; most likely neither would have
A SPECIAL EDUCATION has for its purpose the acquiring of some
art, or trade, or profession. In such an education, it would be
foolish to spend one's effort in cultivating weaker powers; excellent
endowments in any direction indicate that in that direction lies
the road to the greatest power and usefulness. Hence, the folly
of choosing a career for a young man before he is old enough to
have shown his individual peculiarities,--to have determined his
A GENERAL EDUCATION has for its purpose to make of the given child
the best possible specimen of a man or woman. This should be the
education attempted in all our common schools and colleges. As
the man or woman should be symmetrical as possible in all that
pertains to a manly or womanly character, it follows that, in
such an education, weakness in any direction calls for special
effort to develop the child in that particular,--a course quite
the opposite of that to be taken in a special education.
Nor should the work of special education be undertaken till that
of a general education is fairly done. The man is more than the
artist, or doctor, or mechanic. It is a pity that so many of our
American youth are so impatient to undertake their life-work that
they have not patience to lay a broad general foundation before
they attempt to build their special structure. The result is weakness
and narrowness to the end of their career.
Education Requires Time
.---Our age is marked by mechanical invention; by the steam engine,
the telegraph, the labor-saving machine, etc., we are able to
do many things much more rapidly than we once could. Many seem
disposed to think that something may be contrived by which the
work of education may be shortened in a corresponding degree.
In fact, if we may judge by the astonishing professions and promises
of some very young institutions, we might conclude that the "short
cut" to an education has been found, --or, at least, that it is
expected to make people believe that it has been found.
Why is it not reasonable to expect that the work of education
can be thus shortened, seeing that we have achieved such wonderful
results in other things? The answer is easy. All these wonderful
inventions result in mechanical effects. Education is growth.
If one wishes his lot enclosed by a fence, he can have it done
in a few hours by employing workmen enough; but if he chooses
to have a living hedge around it, he must wait. When some method
is found by which a fine sugar-maple, three feet in diameter,
can be produced in six months, then it will be time enough to
listen to these very smart people who promise a finished education
is the same time.
Principles and Methods
.---We have taken a brief survey of the most important powers
of man. We have seen what Education really is, and what it ought
to do for these powers.
Let us now make some suggestions in respect to the work of training
or educating these powers.
BEST METHODS.--It is not our purpose to give any set of best methods
for doing this work. Such a task would be utterly impossible,
for the simple reason that one must be largely governed by circumstances
in the devising or adopting of methods. It will follow, from what
is said above, that a method which may be good for one set of
pupils, may be worthless for another set; or, a method good for
pupils in some circumstances, may not be good for the same pupils
in different circumstances. Hence, the truth of a remark once
made by a shrewd teacher: "Best methods! there are no best methods!"
It is wise to study methods, not for servile imitation, but for
suggestion. It is frequently wise to adapt methods, but rarely
or never to adopt them. It is true, however, that all good methods
rest upon sound principles; these never change, but the methods
founded upon them may vary indefinitely. It will not follow from
this that every method is a good one which recognizes a correct
principle. It is one of the soundest principles of pedagogy that
no teacher can proceed profitably with his work till he has the
attention of his class. But he would hardly be a wise teacher
who would attempt to gain that attention by firing a pistol, or
by standing on his head, although he would gain the attention
in either case without doubt.
FOUR GRAND PRINCIPLES.---Before making any direct suggestions
as to training the powers, let us state four fundamental truths
- Any power under the control of the will may be cultivated or trained .
- The powers are trained in one way, and in one way only; viz, by WISE USE. This law of work is the one unchangeable law of progress everywhere .
- The wisest training will be directed to those powers that are
conspicuously active at the time .
- An indispensable prerequisite to any profitable training is careful
attention to the matter in hand .
Further words in respect to the third principle may be necessary.
We have said that every sane and sound child is born with a germ
of every power that is common to man. But these germs do not develop
at the same time, as every one at all familiar with child-life
And one who is not familiar with child-life has no business to
attempt to teach children,--of all the text-books on pedagogy,
the most valuable is a baby or a young child. He who neglects
the loving study of this "living epistle" will never become very
wise in a knowledge of the correct teaching and training of children,
no matter what else he may study.
Right Order in Education.---Now, one who studies children, even
a little, will soon observe that at first the Presentative powers
seem to be active almost alone, so far as the intellect is concerned;
seeing, hearing, feeling, and tasting are the child's occupations.
Memory and Imagination soon follow, while Reasoning and Reflection
are long delayed. This fact clearly shows what should be the field
of effort in the teaching and training of young children; it should
Training in sense-perception,
Proper expression by words , and
Manual activity .
Instead of following such a course with young children as the
above statement would indicate, how often the commands are, "Sit
still," "Don't talk," "Study your book!" And in studying the book,--that
dry, conventional, artificial thing,--the effort is not made to
help the child to see correctly what is in the book, and to learn
from it such things as his present state of development would
allow him to grasp and appreciate, but to crowd his memory with
such words as can have no meaning till he has learned to use his
powers of reflection, abstraction, and reasoning.
Thus, the powers already active are neglected, that a vain, stupefying,
deadening effort may be made in an appeal to powers that will
remain comparatively dormant for years. Not seldom is he required
to learn and to give logical forms of reasoning, as in "mental"
arithmetic, while his mind is wholly in the perceptive and imaginative
stages. It is as though the gardener, having beans and potatoes
planted in his garden at the same time, should go out and hoe
around where his potatoes will appear by-and-by, but neglect to
pay any attention to his beans already above ground and in great
danger of being choked by the weeds.
TRAINING THE POWERS.
Training the Senses
.---In the light of what has been said, the usefulness and the
philosophic character of the "Kindergarten" will be very apparent.
But, it would seem that the apparatus and the methods of the kindergarten
are not available for the ordinary district school at present;
and, perhaps, they will not be for a long time to come. The question
is, Can the teacher of the ordinary district school, with only
the ordinary appliances to be found there, do any thing to train
young children in accordance with these truths and principles?
We answer, "Yes, much every way."
.--- There is no end to the ways in which a thoughtful teacher
in such a school may help to train the sight of the pupil; but
we can only suggest.
OUT-OF-DOORS.--Different kinds of vegetation are all about him.
Train him to observe the different forms of leaves, grasses, and
flowers. He will respond heartily and gladly to such an effort.
You have but to hint that you want specimens, and they will be
forthcoming in perplexing abundance. Is there any reason why children
in the country should be ignorant of the different forms of foliage
about them? Surely, they will take delight in noting the characteristic
forms of the leaves of the maple, the oak, the elm, the apple,
etc. Would not this be as useful, aside from the training of sense,
as a good deal of what they are required to learn? Why not have
them learn to note the forms of the different grasses, and the
humbler plants, as well as the leaves of the grains and garden
In connection with this study of the forms of foliage, many a
weary hour may be beguiled in attempts to copy or to reproduce
some of the forms on their slates.
And, the, what endless lessons in colors, their names, their combinations,
etc., as shown in the flowers, or in bright colored yarns or bits
of calico, or in samples that any teacher can make with the aniline
dyes! And what a field for training children's eyes in observing
the shapes and sizes and colors of the animal world all about
them! Will they perform the dull, necessary drudgery of bookstudy
less earnestly or efficiently for a few minutes spent in waking
up the mind by some such exercise in seeing, and endeavoring to
describe what they see by word or by pencil?
It is a custom in the famous Quincy schools to allow the pupils
ten minutes each morning in telling what they observed on the
way to school. Here, sight and language both are cultivated; and
it should be remembered that training in the art of expression
must be kept up through the whole of the school course.
The little pupil on his way to school, earnest to see something
of interest to describe to a sympathetic teacher, will be a very
different object from Shakespeare's "whining school-boy, with
his satchel and shining morning face, creeping like a snail unwillingly
IN THE SCHOOL-ROOM.--We have made some suggestions about training
the sight to see things outside of the school-room. Let us now
suggest some exercises for training the same sense in dealing
with things in the school-room.
Pictures. -- Here, especially with quite young children, much
may be done with pictures. And, happily, most of the text-books
for little children are now filled with beautiful and instructive
Put before the class a picture of a farm-yard scene, for instance.
Let each one point out the distinct objects that he sees in the
picture. Get him to think about them, and to express his thoughts.
Do not put words into his mouth, but encourage his own expression,
however crude and imperfect it may be. Continue with the picture
until it is exhausted; --until every object has been noticed.
Commend him who can find the most things to see, and can say most
about them, but do not do it in such a way as to discourage the
slow and the awkward.
By such a process, not only is the eye trained, but an inexhaustible
store of material is gathered for language lessons. And, with
even very young children, some of the statements may be put in
writing, thus teaching, in a natural way, penmanship, spelling,
the structure of sentences, and some of the most obvious uses
One who never tried the experiment will be surprised to see how
much more interest a child will take in a picture that he has
been taught to see. Give a book full of beautiful and appropriate
pictures into the hand of a little child without any guidance,
and he will glance at them rapidly, one after another, and the
book is a "squeezed orange" to him. Restrict him to one or two
pictures at a time, teach him how to see them, and the same book
will be an unfailing source of instruction and amusement for many
Children are often slow, blundering, and mechanical in their reading,
simply because their eyes have never been taught to look ahead
and to take in more words than the one they are trying to pronounce.
One way to remedy this, is to have a stiff cardboard with a single
sentence printed on it; or, better, a little hand black-board
with a sentence written on it. Hold it for an instant before the
class, then take it away and see who can pronounce the whole sentence.
Of course, these suggestions might be extended indefinitely; but
the teacher who understands the true principles of his art, can
multiply them indefinitely; and he will do so, when once his mind
has awakened to their importance. The result aimed at is to make
the sight quick, accurate, and comprehensive.
A SUGGESTED EXERCISE.-- Before leaving the subject of sight, we
want to suggest another kind of exercise, which, if properly conducted,
will give a three-fold result,--it will train the child's eye,
it will give him useful information, and it will improve his language
and increase his vocabulary.
Holding a book before the class, ask, "What have I?" This, to
gain attention. Now, tell the children that you will hold it in
two ways, and you want them to notice the two ways and to tell
you about them. Hold the book horizontal, and let all notice the
position, then hold it inclined, and let them observe. Ask how
it was held the first time. The second time. You will get a variety
of answers; but, probably, some one will say, "The first time
it didn't tip, --the next time it tipped." Accept these answers
for the present, and let the pupils hold books in the two ways.
See that they do it accurately. Next tell them that you will give
them a long word to tell how the book was the first time. Give
the word "horizontal," --let it be carefully pronounced, and spelled
both phonetically and by letter. Again, hold the book in the first
way, and get the children to say, "The book is horizontal." Hold
it the second way, and let them say, the book is not horizontal."
Change this last statement, and substitute, "the book is inclined,"
or, "The book is oblique." Let the children point out horizontal
surfaces and lines in the same room, taking care to have the same
thing mentioned but once. Make horizontal and inclined lines on
the board, and have them described. Let the pupils do the same.
Let the pupils tell you of things they have seen outside the school-room
that are horizontal. Here is matter enough suggested for several
lessons; do not hurry; introduce much variety; give the pupils
a good deal to do; do not let any lesson exceed ten minutes.
Take the word vertical, and treat it in a similar way; then the
word parallel. Now give little exercises, such as, "Make three
parallel, horizontal lines on the board;" three "parallel vertical
lines," etc. Insist on having the work well done; lead the pupils
to take pride in doing it well; let them describe their work in
The same general process may be followed in teaching a large number
of geometric terms or forms, as angles of different kinds; triangles
of different kinds; parallelogram, rectangle, square, sphere,
These are only suggestions,--the field is boundless.
Hearing.--Methods somewhat similar may be used for training the
sense of Hearing, at school. Children might be allowed to report
the sounds they hear, as well as the sights they see, on the way
to school. Is it not as important that they should be able to
recognize the calls and the songs of different birds, or the chirp
of different insects, as it is to know the length of the Congo
River, or the number of slain at the Battle of Bunker Hill?
Of course, successful hearing, as well as successful sight, depends
primarily upon closeness of attention. But many teachers train
their pupils not to attend to what they ought to hear. They do
this by announcing lessons and issuing commands and requests over
and over again, or by repeating questions in recitation, or by
meaningless repetitions of answers given, as well as in many other
Let the pupil once become thoroughly impressed that his teacher
says nothing without a meaning,--that a clear statement once made
will not be repeated, but that the school will be held responsible
for hearing and observing it, and much will be done to quicken
As drawing should be called in to aid in training sight, so music
should be used in training hearing. In this way, children may
be taught to distinguish and to describe the pitch of tones, their
varying length, and the different degrees of force, in connection
with their little songs. Nor is the usefulness of such distinctions
confined to singing, by any means. Correct pitch, and change of
pitch at will, have as much to do with correct speaking or reading
as with singing. The lifeless, monotonous reading of the dull,
ill-taught pupil is often due to the fact either that his ear
has not been trained to the distinctions of pitch and of power,
or his organs have not been trained to produce those distinctions.
In connection with the training of the ear and the vocal organs,
will come a study of inflections and slides of the voice, on which
expression so largely depends.
In all his school work, the pupil should be trained to love and
to make clear, pure tones. On this point, Dr. Lowell Mason used
to insist with great earnestness in his lectures before teachers'
institutes. All harshness of tone, screaming, and coarse, nasal
utterance should be banished from the exercises of the school-room,--not
encouraged, as they so often are, by the unwise teacher, whose
constant admonition is, "Speak up loud." But such a teacher not
only leads his pupils astray by his precepts; he generally does
it by his example as well, in the loud, harsh, unnatural tones
which he uses in the school-room. The teacher's voice should be
perfectly natural, smooth, and clear, but not loud nor high-pitched.
We will omit any discussion respecting the training of the other
senses, although we believe something interesting and useful is
.---The Representative Powers, in the form of Memory and Imagination,
awaken in the child almost as soon as the Perceptives. The child
a few months old knows his mother's face from that of any other
woman, which, of course, can be possible only as he remembers.
In the years of childhood, from infancy to the age of twelve or
fourteen, Memory is the characteristic faculty. It not only receives
readily at this age, but it retains with astonishing tenacity.
Let any one in advanced life compare the readiness with which
he can recall what was committed to memory at this age with the
difficulty he has in recalling what he has recently committed.
This is the period, then, for "storing the mind." Memory is the
faculty to be especially trained and exercised at this age.
In order to train the Memory, the child must be made responsible
for its use. He must be held to remember what he is told in the
way of command or direction; to remember it exactly, and to observe
it accordingly. He must be held to remember the instruction given
to him in oral form, as well as that gained from the book. So
tenacious is Memory at this period that it easily seizes and retains
mere words, although they make no appeal to the understanding.
Here is the root of the most glaring evil in our school work,
especially with careless and ill-trained teachers. Mere words
are caught and repeated by the pupils; and they are glibly recited,
giving an appearance of knowledge where none exists. Of course,
this evil should be avoided, but the opposite extreme of requiring
nothing to be committed in exact form is still worse.
Special exercises to train the memory are valuable; for instance,
read a short, pithy sentence, and require the exact repetition
of it, tell an interesting story, and have it reproduced exactly,
the next day, etc. There is no need to give the child trash to
commit, simply to train his memory. That power may be exercised
on things worthy in themselves as well as in storing up nonsense.
There is much in the child's lessons that should be committed
exactly, such as definitions, tables, etc.
Many modern teachers are so impressed with the evil of committing
simply the words of the text-book-- "mere memorizing"--that they
have gone to the other extreme. Hence, in many schools, otherwise
good, the Memory is neglected to such an extent that the pupils
can not give what they know in exact language, nor have they power
to fix exactly what they strive to remember.
Because of the facility with which mere words are retained at
this time, it is not unphilosophical to require the pupil to commit
to memory some useful things which he does not fully understand.
The recent movement in favor of memorizing literary "gems" is
worthy of all commendation. Nor need they be fully understood
at present. Who can not recall something of this kind, dropped
into his memory in his childhood, that afterwards became the most
profitable subject of rumination?
It is a curious fact that certain defects sometimes become objects
of personal vanity, such as a pale skin, defective eyesight requiring
spectacles, etc. It is thought by silly young people to be fashionable,
and an evidence of "high-tone," to have these defects. On this
ground we account for the readiness with which many people declare
that they are deficient in the power of memory. Certain it is
that no one possesses a really good mind if his memory is very
defective. When students have come to the author pleading complacently
this defect as a reason for failing to retain their lessons, he
has sometimes effectually cut off a repetition of the excuse by
fully accepting it, suggesting perhaps that he had long suspected
that their minds were not quite sound!
.-- During the early years of a child's life, no power is more
active that Imagination. As Dr. Rosenkranz says: "The child turns
his perceptions into conceptions, and plays with them." He bestrides
a stick, and it becomes a prancing horse; he ties together three
or four chairs, and they are a train of cars. The little girl
collects a few broken bits of crockery, and they are a China tea-set;
she ties up a bundle of rags, and it is a baby. Two or three children
come together, and they must "play bear," or "play horse," or
"play school," etc. In the child's vocabulary, "play" means to
exercise the Imagination.
Now, shall we, like some unwise parents and teachers, reprove
children for these things, and exhort them to be sensible? We
may be sure that nature makes no mistake in this, any more than
in other exhibitions of child-life.
By entering into, and sympathizing with, the child's ideal life,
the teacher or parent may do much, not only for the child's amusement,
but he also may make this a valuable means of instruction and
training; besides, in this way, he may learn more of the child's
inner nature than in almost any other, and do much to establish
those bonds of feeling between the child and himself,--so necessary
to his highest success as the child's guide and instructor.
That prince of writers for children, and for instructors of children,
Dr. Jacob Abbott, in his admirable work, "Gentle Measures in the
Management of the Young," has an excellent chapter on the Imagination,
which every mother and teacher ought carefully to study. On pages
108 and 114 of the same book will be found very interesting illustrations
of the way in which the same faculty may be used in the moral
and practical training of children.
Education has for its aim to lead the child up to true freedom,--
to a free and right use of his own self-determination, --to such
a wise use of his will as shall control circumstances to his own
advantage. In the early use of his imagination is found a most
important training in this respect. Here, he is at liberty to
arrange and apply things he chooses, untrammeled by the conditions
of stern reality. This freedom of will constitutes the principle
charm of such "play." Here, doubtless, we find an explanation
for curious facts which every careful observer of children must
If a little girl has several dolls,--a fine China one, an ordinarily
good one, and a poor, dirty, mutilated "rag baby,"--she will probably
prize the last most highly of all. The reason is, that she can
do whatever she pleases with this one. If a boy has a present
of a jumping-jack and a ball, he will at first be much more interested
in the funny toy. But soon his interest in the jumping-jack will
die out, while the ball will grow more precious every day.
But the highest use of Imagination, for child or man, is found
in the fact that it alone gives an ideal of excellence in what
one is to do or to be; without such an ideal, progress is hardly
The Reflective Powers.--We will spend little time in speaking
of the Reflective Powers, Reasoning, etc.; not because these are
not important, but because early youth is no time to attempt an
extensive training in these powers. To be sure, even a little
child has some tendency and ability to draw inferences, to study
the relations of cause and effect, and such efforts may be encouraged
and directed to a limited extent. But a common mistake is to endeavor
to train the reflective power before its time, and to neglect
other powers that are in a stage of development which calls for
the teacher's best efforts.
The Sensibility.--Passing to the training of the Sensibility,
we say that the teacher's success or failure in the most valuable
part of his work will be largely determined by his power or weakness
in this field. It is through the Sensibility that motives to action
are furnished, and character is formed. Even the highest intellectual
success is impossible, unless the Emotions are enlisted in behalf
of the work attempted. No child is likely to make much progress
in a study which he thoroughly dislikes, especially if he dislike
his teacher at the same time. Even the mature man finds his intellect
will work with redoubled power and success when the glow of emotion
accompanies its action.
LOVE.--The child's love for good things, for his fellows, and
for his teacher, must be carefully trained and strengthened. Here
is a worthy field for the power of the teacher with the wisest
head and noblest heart. But it is no place for pretense or sham;
all work here must be genuine. If you wish to awaken the child's
love for yourself, expect it only in return for genuine love for
him. Stage smiles and honeyed words, with no heart back of them,
will no serve. It is easier to deceive a grown person than a child
in this respect. In the old poem, the child says:
"I do not love thee, Doctor Fell;
The reason why I cannot tell."
No doubt, there was a good reason which the child felt, although
she could not tell it. And we suspect that an equally good reason
generally exists for the child's personal likes and dislikes.
But, perhaps, some teacher is ready to say, "Well, it is of no
use; I never did love children, and I can not,--at least, I can
not love uninteresting and disagreeable children." Then, we say,
you ought to do one of two things: either set about acquiring
this power at once, or forever forego any attempt to teach children.
One of the surest ways to develop a love for any person or thing
is to make that person or thing the object of your special care,
interest, and effort. If persistence in such a course will not
beget a love for its object, we think the case is hopeless.
HATE.--But the child's capacity to hate or dislike needs special
attention, as well as its opposite. We remember with what earnestness
and effect an old associate of ours used to say to his pupils:
"Boys, hate mean things." That they have not been trained to hate
mean things is the trouble of to-day with too many of our boys,
and girls as well. But the child should be carefully shown that
the hatred of mean things must not be allowed to pass over into
a hatred of the persons who do them. We fear it will often be
found that many who declaim loudly against wrong, after all feel
more bitter toward those who do the wrong than they do towards
the wrong done. The child should be taught that hatred towards
persons is never right.
APPETITES AND DESIRES.--Little ever needs to be done to strengthen
the appetites and desires of the child. But no part of his education
needs more earnest care than that by which he gains the power
to regulate them. And here the skillful teacher can do much, in
ways that love and tact will indicate, to train the pupil so that
his appetites and desires and desires may be used to minister
to his well-being and to his innocent gratification, instead of
leading him down to the level of the brute, or below it.
ADMIRATION.--The child's power of admiration, and his tendency
to admire, demand careful attention. Owing to the activity of
imagination in children, the persons that seem to them admirable
are esteemed to be perfect. Children are born hero-worshippers.
And the things that they admire are likely to be thought "altogether
lovely." There is a psychological reason why, in the vocabulary
of young persons, "splendid" and "horrid" exhaust the list of
descriptive adjectives so often. Now, because admiration always
contains the element of approval, it is easy to see that one's
character is likely to be indicated by the persons and things
he admires; not only is his present character indicated in this
way, but his future character is largely determined as well. In
the admiration that boys conceive for the characters depicted
in the robbers and Indian killers of the wretched "dime" literature
of the day, lies the chief danger of the poisonous stuff. And
the young girl's admiration of the vain, vapid character of the
heroine in the trashy novel she reads, is likely to work lasting
injury to her, for the same reason. There is little danger threatening
the character of any young person whose admiration is thoroughly
fixed on such things only as are "pure, honest, lovely, and of
REVERENCE.--There is special need in this country, and in this
age, that the Reverence of children should be trained. In the
abounding life and freedom of this new country, we seem to forget,
to a great extent, that there is any thing to be treated with
reverence and respect. And it is a serious question whether this
tendency is not on the increase. Much of the flippant nonsense
in our newspapers that passes for wit would lose all its point
if the irreverence were taken out of it. And the children and
youth are not slow to imitate the example of their elders. The
"old man," or the "governor," is the boy's frequent appellation
for his father, nor does the "old woman" signify the mother much
less frequently. Similar disrespectful terms are ready to apply
to men and women who, by age, or character, or position, should
be treated with special respect.
The reverent attitude of mind or speech, toward God or man, seems
to be very unpopular just now. This fact does not augur well for
the future, and the best efforts of our schools should be turned
to its correction.
We remember when our teacher, in the old country school in New
England, used to teach us to meet her with a respectful "good
morning," and to leave her with a gentle "good night." She also
taught us to stand by the road-side and lift our hats when we
met travelers. It is possible we might return to some old-fashioned
ways with profit. It is often said that we must put into our schools
whatever we desire to have in the thinking and in the behavior
of our people. Is this not true? And if this is so, must we not
look to our schools to train their pupils in reverence and respect
if we would see less of the roughness, vulgarity, and rowdyism
that now disgrace us as a people, and make thoughtful men fear
for the future?
WE will close our discussion of the training of the child's powers
by saying something about the training of the Conscience, the
Will, and the powers of Attention and Conception. Let the reader
first turn back to Chapter IV, and study carefully the definitions
of these powers.
The Conscience.--Conscience makes us feel that we ought to do
what we think is right, and to let alone what we think is wrong.
How shall this feeling be cultivated and made stronger? In the
same way as every other power is cultivated and strengthened,--
by use. Every time that the voice of conscience is heard and heeded,
it gains strength to speak with more clearness the next time.
Every time it is disregarded, it is shorn of some of its power;
this may be continued until conscience will sleep quietly while
one does things that would once have caused the keenest anguish.
Thus, conscience becomes "seared as with a hot iron." It withers
and decays like an unused muscle. And yet, sometimes, after a
long slumber, it wakes up with a fearful power, and stings like
a scorpion---this is remorse.
Let the parent and teacher make frequent appeals to the child's
conscience,--press upon him the word ought in all the fullness
of its meaning. If there is any doubt as to whether one ought,
or ought not, to do a certain thing, the only safe way is to give
conscience "the benefit of the doubt." No child is too young for
such an appeal, for conscience begins its work almost as soon
as the earliest perceptive powers. "Is it right?" "Then ought
you to do it?" These are questions that the youngest will appreciate,
and it is sad that such questions so often give place to mere
appeals to expediency, or self-interest, or pride. In view of
this fact, it is not strange that so few grown persons are able
to stand boldly for what they believe to be right, even if they
have to stand alone. How can the moral fiber be otherwise than
flabby if it has never been strengthened?
There has been much discussion of the question, whether it is
always right to follow conscience. The case seems to be a very
plain one. We can not conceive that one could be justified in
violating his conscience,--in doing what he believes to be wrong.
And yet it must be granted that, owing to a wrong judgment, conscience
may prompt to an act wrong it itself. Where, then, is the responsibility?
Can one be blamed for doing such an act? Surely, he can not be
blamed for following his conscience; but if his wrong judgment
is due to any fault of his, then he is to be blamed for thinking
that wrong is right.
Moral Training.--If morality is any thing more than refined self-interest,
then the cultivation of conscience must lie at the basis of all
right moral training. The psychological elements of morality are
four in number, viz.: the intuitive idea, that there is such a
thing as right; the judgment, which determines whether any particular
thing is right; conscience, that moves us towards the right; and
the will, that chooses or refuses the right. All true moral training
must have regard to all these; it must recognize the underlying
idea; it must train the judgment; it must appeal to conscience;
and it must lead the will to the proper choice.
That such moral training should receive much attention is school
can not be question; character is more than intellectual power
or acquisition. That such training is too much neglected is lamentably
true. But, perhaps, it is not very easy to tell how such training
should be given. We may say, negatively, that merely reading books
on morals, even the Bible itself, will not give it; nor will the
teaching of a religious creed, even the soundest; nor will a discussion
of moral questions, nor long lectures on morals, nor any amount
of namby-pamby, goodish exhortation. It must be genuine training
as the term has already been defined. Generally, such training
will not follow any set lessons in morals. It must be brought
about by putting conscience into all that is done; and the teacher
who would succeed in doing this with his pupils must be a living
example before their eyes.
Moral lessons may be drawn incidentally from the lessons in reading
or history; sometimes, a story may be told, or any case supposed,
for which a moral lesson may be taught effectively. Gow's "Good
Morals and Gentle Manners" is a book that may be of much service
to the teacher in such work.
Let specific lessons be given, not according to the programme,
but as occasion for them arises. Has the teacher discovered that
his boys play marbles for "keeps?" Here is a call for such a lesson.
Let him take the winner, at some quiet and convenient time, and
ply him with questions something like the following, after the
manner of old Socrates: Whose are those fine marbles? Whose were
they? Did John care anything for them? What did you give him for
them? What made you play with him for them? Was not the reason
because you wanted to get what John owned and cared for, without
giving him anything of value for it? Is this the reason why gamblers
play their games? Is it the thing that makes men steal? That makes
them cheat? That makes them commit murder sometimes? How much
dishonesty would there be in the world if no one ever had such
a wish as this? Then, can this be right?
We think such an appeal, if skillfully and kindly made, could
hardly fail to convince the judgment and to move the conscience.
In a similar way, other principles of morality should be treated,
as occasion calls for the treatment.
.--A man with a weak will is a pitiable object. It is the will
that gives one his moving force; that makes him a power rather
than a mere helpless thing. One who lacks will power is like a
log floating at the mercy of the current; while one with a strong
will is like a steamboat, that can not only stem the current,
but can make headway against it. There is no danger that one will
have too much will, if only it is joined with right motives and
sound judgment. The man of strong will is not necessarily willful
in the bad use of the word. A man of strong will need not be mulish.
There has been much discussion of the question whether a child's
"will should be broken?" The answer turns wholly upon what is
meant by "breaking" the will. If by this is meant simply that
the child must be taught to bend his will to rightful authority,
then it is one of the first lessons to be learned; it is an act
of the greatest kindness to the child to break his will in this
sense. But if, by breaking the will, we mean to destroy its power,
or to diminish it, then it is a heinous crime to do it. Fir, one
with his will broken, in this sense, is like a watch with the
mainspring broken. Instead of this, special effort should be made
to strengthen the child's will power. Use all reasonable means
to lead him to cease saying "I can't," and to cultivate the habit
of saying "I can" and "I will." Of course, he should be taught
to judge rightly as to whether a thing ought to be done before
he says, "I will do it." Even kindly ridicule or gentle sarcasm
may be used with good effect here, and sometimes resort may well
be had to something a little more vigorous.
We remember when a certain teacher sent a young woman to the blackboard,
and she, after a feeble effort, whimpered out, "I don't think
I can do it." "You can," thundered the teacher, with a stamp of
his foot. She hastily snatched a tear from the corner of each
eye, and did the work. We believe that discipline was a "means
of grace" to that young woman.
But, in addition to direct efforts to strengthen the child's will,
we want to say very earnestly that neither parents nor teacher
should thwart his will, except with good reason. Many a will has
been weakened, if not wholly destroyed, because his teacher or
parent, thoughtlessly or wantonly, has trampled on his wishes
and desires and purposes until sullenness or despair has resulted.
must accompany every successful mental effort. There are two ways
in which the man may be led to give attention: one is by attracting
it, so that he attends without effort; the other, by inducing
him to attend through sheer force of his will power. The attention
of the child can be gained in the first way only. It can be attracted
and held for a short time only; but this will is not strong enough
to enable him to attend against his inclination, nor after he
has become weary. And yet he must attend, if he is to do any thing
to any purpose. Nor can his attention be secured by frequent calls
for attention, nor even by authority. It must be attracted at
first, and its object must be changed frequently. It is a gradual
process, by which he gets the power to command his attention,
and this power must be gained by a judicious course of training.
To secure this training, let the teacher be careful to make no
statement to the child, make no explanation, lay not command,
etc., until he knows in his own mind, with perfect clearness,
what he means to say; then let him say it slowly, clearly, in
a few words, and say it but once. Then let him insist rigidly
that what is thus given shall be remembered and observed.
Let the teacher form the habit of never speaking to his school,
his class, or to a single pupil, until he has complete attention,
and let him stop speaking the instant attention wanders. In this
way, every thing that is done is school will be an exercise in
training the attention; but, occasionally, special exercises for
this purpose alone may be introduced. Let the teacher recite a
sentence, to be repeated exactly; let him give directions for
certain movements to be made, and then require an exact performance,
etc. By such processes, and others that a thoughtful and ingenious
teacher will discover, the child is trained until his attention
will obey his will promptly, fully, and successfully. When this
is done, he is on the high road to the attainment of both knowledge
Conception.--A bright mind is one whose Conceptive Power is clear
and strong. Dullness results from lack of this power. "Parrot"
recitations are of words without the accompanying conceptions.
Mechanical reading is calling over words, in this way, from a
book. Mechanical, meaningless mathematical work is the blind following
of rules while the conceptive power is asleep. Much of our school
work, we are sorry to say, is performed in such a way as to put
this power to sleep; and the more we work with tongue, or pen,
or hand while conception sleeps, the more soundly it will sleep
while we thus work. This is the process by which many little children,
who entered school bright, keen, and inquisitive, are made dull
and stupid after going a few months. We believe comparatively
few teachers understand the relative importance of this power,
or how to arouse and train it.
A really "lively" school exercise of any kind is not to be measured
by the noise made, nor by the amount of manual activity, but by
the fullness and clearness of the conceptive power used. No reading
by older or younger pupils will be correct, --except, perhaps,
with the correctness of mechanical imitation,--until conception
gives life to the words spoken. No geography lesson is worth any
thing that does not fill the mind with correct and lively pictures.
No mathematical work is any thing but a mechanical "grind" till
the pupil "sees" the relation of the parts with his "mind's eye."
Imagination, as we have already defined the term, is the exercise
of the conceptive power in one of its forms; hence, the pedagogic
value of a judicious use of the imagination. But the conceptive
power has its part to play in understanding and reasoning, as
well as in memory and imagination. All our school work, from the
lowest grade to the highest, should recognize this fact, and the
true use of the power of conception should be observed in every
We have been able to give only a few hints in regard to the training
of the powers, but the thoughtful teacher will readily see that
this training in his great work--it alone treats the mind like
a living organism; while a mere acquiring of knowledge, a storing
of the memory, treats it like a dead receptacle.
- KINDS OF EDUCATION, ............ 2. Intellectual
Kinds of Education.--We have now completed what we have to say
directly about training the mental powers. We have also tried
to show what education really is. We often speak of different
kinds of education. Education is divided into kinds or sorts,
according to two different ideas. If we consider it in relation
to its end, or purpose, we have two sorts; viz., General and Special.
These were defined and explained in Chapter V. If we consider
the different powers to be educated, we have Physical, Intellectual,
Moral, and perhaps Spiritual education.
Of course, physical education has to do with the powers of the
body; its aim is to produce health, strength, and dexterity.
Intellectual education has to do with those powers by which we
know; its purpose is to give skill and certainty in acquiring
facts, in remembering them, and in discovering their true significance
Moral education has to do with the training of those powers by
which we come to know the right, to love it, and to choose and
follow it. We have already discussed this at some length.
Spiritual education, if there be such as distinct from moral education,
means the growth and cultivation of the divine life begun in the
human soul by the renewing effect of a Divine Power: it is what
the minister calls "growth in grace."
In all these forms of education, the general method is the same;
viz., By the wise use of the powers involved, to induce desired habits .
PHYSICAL EDUCATION.-- Intellectual education is, without doubt,
the main purpose of our schools, but it should not be the only
purpose, as many seem to suppose. Both physical and moral education
should receive careful attention in all our schools. The pupil
should be taught to sue his body rightly in sitting, standing,
walking, etc. The body is the mind's instrument and servant; through
it alone can the mind be acted upon from without, and at the same
time it is the only medium through which the mind can manifest
itself. For this reason, it is very important that the body should
be so trained that it may serve the mind efficiently and faithfully;
hence, the importance of physical culture. But it is well to remember
always that physical strength and dexterity are to be sought as
means to an end,--not as an end in themselves. When physical training
is made an end in itself, as in the case of the professional athlete,
prize-fighter, etc., it not only is a very unworthy end, but it
seems to defeat its own purpose. Very few prize-fighters, gymnasts,
or oarsmen retain vigorous health till old age; in truth, few
of the reach old age.
.-- Before turning to another subject, we wish to say that an
education of some kind is inevitable--we must be educated. "Education
is cultured growth,"--if the child lives, his powers will grow,
and their growth will be modified by the influences that surround
him. Hence, there is no escape from education but by death or
insanity. So, the choice is not between a good education and no
education, but between a good education and a bad one. If the
child's growing powers are not trained as they should be at home,
at school, at church, etc., they will be sure to be trained as
they should not be, elsewhere. Not all our schools are in school-houses,
under teachers licensed by the superintendents and paid by public
funds. There are schools in the streets, on dry goods boxes, in
saloons, and in worse places. They are well supplied with teachers;
they have no vacations; and they send their graduates out by swarms.
Some of these graduates tax the state much more heavily to pay
for courts, and prisons, and poor houses than they would to have
provided them with the best possible education at the public expense.
Any thoughtful person who walks the crowded streets, in the more
degraded portions of our large cities, must have some very important
questions thrust upon him. As he observes the swarming multitudes
of little children, unclean and unkempt, too young to attend the
public schools, he must ask himself if it would not be cheaper
to care for these unfortunates while they are children than to
attempt to restrain and punish them when they are fully developed
into the hardened criminals that so many of them are sure to become.
Would it not cost less money to make the attempt to form them
rightly than it will to reform them, or to punish them when they
have received the education that all their present surroundings
tend to give them?
Acting on this thought, one of the wisest schemes of modern private
philanthropy is the establishment of kindergartens for these neglected
waifs. But would it not be wise economy for the public to bear
the expense of kindergartens for this purpose from the public
funds? This question demands public attention and discussion.
We have no doubt about the true answer.
The resources of a state are not confined to its mineral wealth,
its fertile soil, its navigable waters, etc. The mental and moral
power of its rising generation outweighs them all; if educated
and directed rightly, it will do more to advance the state in
every kind of prosperity, material wealth included. But, if badly
educated, it is not simply so much power and wealth lost, but
it becomes a negative quantity,--a power for evil and waste. If
this is true, it is hard to see why the state is not bound to
spend all necessary sums for any and all appliances which shall
tend to educate the powers of its youth rightly; quite as much,
to say the least, as it is bound to foster mining, agriculture,
commerce, and other things that tend directly to develop its material
Here is the strongest argument for high schools and colleges which
shall offer the fullest education of all, at the public cost.
Among the lowly and the poor is to be found, in the germ, some
of the best directive ability in the state. The state can not
afford to lose this ability simply because private purses can
not provide the means for its development. The richest products
of any state, estimated even on a pecuniary basis alone, are its
best men and women. It is time that we had done with that narrow
view which sees it public education only the means of fitting
the young for some imaginary "sphere," or the mere preparing of
the future citizen to cast his ballot with out danger to the commonwealth.
THE most important factor in any school, or system of education,
is the teacher who directs its daily operations. If he be able,
well-trained, and efficient, good results may be confidently expected,
even though much be wanting. But, if the teacher be seriously
deficient, nothing can supply the lack. People seem to forget
this truth sometimes, and to think that if the buildings be grand
and good, if the apparatus be abundant, if the system be the best,
the result may be satisfactory, let the teacher be what he may.
A moment's reflection ought to show the unwisdom of any such expectation.
.--Let us, then, consider some of the things belonging to a good
teacher. And we will begin by asking, What are proper motives
to prompt him to take up this work? We will mention three: a desire
to do good, a love for the work, and money.
A DESIRE TO DO GOOD.--One who has no desire to do good, who cares
not whether he does any thing to the benefit of the world, is
not likely to be worth much in any calling; certainly he is not
fit to teach the young. One who does faithfully any work that
the world needs does good and deserves honor. But there are few
occupations in which one can do more to bless his fellows than
in wisely developing and training the powers of the rising generation.
And if one believes himself able to do such work successfully,
the wish to serve the world is this way is a noble motive to prompt
him to undertake the work.
LOVE FOR THE WORK.--One will do any work better if he loves to
do it; but there are some kinds of coarse, physical labor, like
digging ditches, etc., that we suppose one might do well even
if he disliked them. This is not true of the higher kinds of work,
and certainly it is not true of teaching. We do not mean, of course,
that a teacher must love every thing connected with his work.
All work has drudgery, and teaching is no exception. But the teacher
should have such a genuine love for his work as a whole that it
will enable him to bear the drudgery, and to do it faithfully,
without being enslaved by it.
PAY.--We shall find people who are ready to declare that the two
motives named are enough, and that it is degrading to let the
thought of money have any weight. On the other hand, we shall
find those who sneer at these motives, and avow boldly that they
care nothing for ideals or sentiment,--they are practical, and
money is the only motive that should have any weight. Now, the
truth is with neither extreme. We should cherish our ideals, if
they are noble; in no other way can we avoid falling into sordidness.
But there are good and honorable reasons why a teacher may regard
his pecuniary compensation as a proper motive, and insist that
it shall be reasonable in amount.
First .--The teacher has wants which he can not honestly supply, as
a general thing, unless he receive money for his work. Few can
afford to work for nothing, even if so disposed.
Second .--Justice requires that he should receive pay for his work:
the world is so constituted that those who give ought to receive.
Third .--People do not prize highly that which costs them nothing.
Even our bountiful Creator has arranged it so that his gifts mostly
come in response to our efforts. If the farmer expect a crop,
he must toil for it. If the student desire knowledge and culture,
he must put forth his efforts, or his desires are futile. Sunlight,
air, and in some places, water are about the only gifts bestowed
upon us without some sort of expenditure on our part. And it is
better so; it is more truly charitable to help the pauper to help
himself than it is to bestow a gift upon him. It is neither just, benevolent, nor wise to give good things to
those who can pay for them but will not . Hence, the good teacher is right when he demands that the community
which receives his services shall pay for them a fair compensation.
If there is a community needing his services which is too poor
pay for them, and he is able to teach without pay, he may be justified
in working for nothing, or for an unreasonably small sum, but
not otherwise. However, if he has agreed to work for small pay,
or for nothing, he ought then to do his best: the smallness of
his pay is not good excuse for poor work.
HOW ESTIMATED?--It is no easy matter to estimate the money value
of a good teacher's services. Some one has said that the world's
work may be divided into two kinds: viz., job-work and professional
work. The first is work that has to do with material things only;
its value is easily computed; and as its benefit can be exactly
measured in money, so can its compensation. But professional work
has to do with things that can not be measured in money. Who can
tell the value of the physician's services when he saves the life
of a friend, or of a minister's if he lead one up to a higher
moral and religious plane of life, or of the artist's when he
cultivates and gratifies our aesthetic nature? If such work be
good, money can not measure it; if it be poor, it is worthless,
or worse. The work of the true teacher must be classed as professional
work. No one can tell just how many dollars a month will be an
equivalent for it. How, then, shall we determine how much money
such a teacher should receive?
AMOUNT.--We answer, he should receive enough to serve three purposes;
viz., First, to provide for the wants of himself and his family,
if he has one,--and he ought to have one in due time; Second,
to provide means of improvement by books, travel, etc.; Third,
to enable him to lay by a reasonable sum for sickness and old
age. It seems clear that a good teacher's services should command
so much; and, if we may speak for the fraternity of teachers,
we should say, This is enough. We would not have teaching become
so remunerative that people would rush into the business merely
because it might be an easy way to get rich. We think, however,
the danger in this direction is not very serious at present.
PENSIONS.--In some European countries, they obviate the necessity
of the third requirement we have mentioned by giving pensions
to superannuated teachers; and the same thing has been proposed
in some of our States. We disapprove of such a thing most heartily.
In the first place, it is not just: one of two things is true;
either the teacher has earned his pension or he has not. If he
has earned it, he should have had it all the time; if he has not
earned it, he should never have it. But the most serious objection
is that such a course take the teacher out of the conditions of
ordinary men. Nothing can be worse for him. One of the worst tendencies
of his profession is to withdraw himself from the pursuits and
responsibilities of men in general. Nothing should be done to
increase that tendency. Let his circumstances be made as nearly
like those of other men as possible, and then let him meet all
of a man's responsibilities. If he meet with misfortune, let him
receive gifts just as any one else would do; but give him a fair
compensation; and then, if he squander it, let him suffer, as
.--One of the most disheartening things connected with our public
schools is the lack of fitness on the part of the teachers. A
large proportion of them--perhaps a majority--have made less preparation
for their delicate and difficult work than they would have made
for the most ordinary trade. And this state of things exists because
the community permit it to exist. Men will not take a piece of
old harness, to be mended, to any one who has not learned the
harness-maker's trade, nor order a pair of shoes made except by
a skilled workman. Yet, these same men will send their children
to be taught by some green boy or girl who has never spent one
half-hour in special preparation for the work. This is a mystery
that can be explained only by supposing that such people do not
realize the fact that preparation for teaching needs to be made
and can be made.
Teachers sometimes judge parents very unjustly. We have heard
it said that parents must love their calves better than they love
their children, for they will visit their calves every day, but
they will not go to the school where their children are taught
during a whole term. This is fallacious; the parent does not regard
it so needful to visit the school as it is to care for his calves.
Nor does he see how necessary it is for the teacher to be prepared
for his work, else he would insist upon it. It may be safely assumed
that almost all parents--even the ignorant and vicious--desire
the best things for their children, but often they do not know
what the best things are.
Of course, we are now speaking of the preparation for the teacher's
work, which should be made before taking charge of a school. It
often happens that, if one has some native gift for teaching,
he may enter upon his work without any preparation; and yet, at
the end of a few terms spent in the school-room, he may be found
a skilled workman. Probably he might acquire the kill of a blacksmith
in a similar way; but the waste of iron and coal that would attend
his apprentice efforts would be a sufficient barrier in that case.
What a pity that the waste of a child's powers and time can not
be estimated as easily as the waste of minerals! Every one has
heard of the reply of the celebrated French oculist, when some
one complimented his skill in operating on the eye: "Yes," said
he, "I may have some skill now, but I spoiled a hateful of eyes
Normal schools are intended specially for the preparing of teachers
for their business; and this should be their sole purpose,--academic
work, as such, is foreign to their true aim. There can be no question,
other things being equal, that any one will make a better teacher
by attending even a tolerably good Normal school. Still, it does
not follow that such a school is the only place where the preparation
can be made. Multitudes of excellent teachers have never attended
a Normal school. Nor can the best Normal school make a first-rate
teacher out of every one who enters it. But what we assert, most
earnestly and confidently, is that, somewhere and somehow, by
thought, reading, instruction, observation, or all combined, the
teacher should be required to make reasonable preparation for
his work before he is permitted to enter upon it.
WHAT PREPARATION?--There are three distinct fields in which preparation
should be made.
First .--The candidate for the teacher's office should become well
acquainted with the nature of children. He should understand their
physical nature, it laws, needs, and possibilities. He should
understand the laws of mind, both in its action and in its growth.
He should understand the springs and movements of the human being
which result in a good moral character or its opposite. In short,
he should become versed in a knowledge of what we call "human
nature" in it broadest sense. But, besides a general knowledge
of human nature, he needs to be specially acquainted with that
complicated and mysterious thing in its plastic, formative, and
growing stages, for it is the material on which he is to work.
What would be said for the tailor ignorant of the nature and qualities
of cloth? or of the nursery-man knowing nothing of the nature
of plants or the mysteries of plant-life? We require even of a
sewing girl that she should know something of the structure and
operation of the machine she uses.
Second. --He should be well acquainted with the branches of knowledge
that he is to teach. And here we must note that the teacher's
knowledge of subjects ought to be of a special kind,--it must
extend to underlying principles. One may know how to read very
well, and still be ignorant of the principles on which good reading
depends. One may be able to make all the computations necessary
in the counting room, and have a "plentiful lack" of knowledge
of the principles of arithmetic,--so similar remarks may be made
about all the studies of the school; all need to be acquired by
the teacher in a way quite different from that which is necessary
simply for practical use. We assert that a teacher's knowledge
should be of a special quality, whether its quantity be more or
less; but, of course, in quantity it should much exceed what he
is likely to be called upon to impart.
Third. --He should be prepared both in the principles and the methods
of imparting knowledge, and in the principles and methods of governing
and managing children no less. Unchanging and unchangeable principles
underlie all correct teaching and management. These principles
can be investigated and acquired; and a knowledge of them, when
arranged systematically, constitutes the science of instruction.
All good methods rest upon and are shaped by these principles.
Methods, or rather modes, may vary indefinitely, while the underlying
principles are the same. But the teacher should make a careful
study of methods, that he may avoid bad ones, and that he may
be ready to adapt or to devise good ones for the several cases
that will arise in his experience.
It will be seen at once that, while the candidate for teaching
should be well prepared in these three distinct fields, the ordinary
examinations for license to teach have regard only to the second,
and in that even they are often very far from searching. It is
not so easy to test the candidate's knowledge in the other two;
but some tests could be applied, and they would be applied if
the community demanded it. The truth is, however, that instead
of making such a demand, the community are more likely to find
fault if the examiner is rigid and exacting in the one third that
he does attempt.
.--But the teacher's preparation must not stop with getting ready
for his school; it should continue until the last day that he
comes before pupils as their teacher.
DAILY.--We assert, as an unquestionable truth, that he should
make a daily preparation for every class that he is to teach.
No matter how familiar the subject, he should bring it before
his mind in order that he may be fresh upon it, that he may have
its inherent difficulties clearly in mind, and that he may adapt
his teaching of it to be personal peculiarities of the particular
Johns and Susans that compose his present class. Furthermore,
he should not be content always to present the subject in the
same way, nor to confine himself to the same plan of removing
difficulties. He should seek new and attractive ways of presenting
the most familiar subjects, and this for his own sake no less
than for his pupils'. In no other way can he keep out of "ruts,"
or keep up his own interest in what he is doing, and thus avoid
that humdrum monotony which is a special bane of the teacher's
FOR HIGHER RANK. --Once more, besides his daily preparation for
his class-work, he should make daily preparation for higher professional
rank. It may be so in many other things, but certainly in the
teacher's work there is no standing still, --not to go forward
is to go back.
Some years ago, Mr. P., of Massachusetts, told this story of his
experience as an examiner of teachers. One day, after examining
a candidate, he told him that he must refuse him a certificate.
"Well," said the man, "I think that is strange; I taught school
five years ago in this very town, and you, Mr. P., gave me my
license. I think it is a pity if I don't know as much as I did
five years ago." Said Mr. P., "I think you do know as much as
you did then, but no more, and that is a sufficient reason for
refusing you a license." Was not Mr. P. Right?
This preparation for higher professional rank should be of a three-fold
First .--The teacher should constantly push forward in the subjects
he is called upon to teach. Who can gather in all knowledge on
such familiar subjects as Geography and History, to say nothing
of the higher walks of Literature, Science, and Mathematics?
Second .--He should select some department of knowledge not particularly
connected with his school-room work, and become a faithful and
constant student in that direction. Let him consult his own taste
in this matter; the range of subjects is unlimited,--Philosophy,
Literature, Art, History, Natural Science, Theology, etc., all
open inviting doors to those whose tastes lead the way. It is
important that the teacher study in the way proposed, not simply
to broaden his knowledge, to keep his manhood from being smothered
in the schoolmaster, but because he can not in any other way keep
himself in the true attitude of a learner. And one who is not
in the attitude of a learner is unfit to lead others into that
attitude, or to direct their work should they chance to be found
in such an attitude.
Third.-- He ought to keep up constant professional work by reading professional
literature, books and periodicals, and by attending and taking
part in professional meetings. The literature of Pedagogics is
very considerable and very respectable; and it is growing every
day, both in quantity and character. And yet how many teachers
are there who never read a book on teaching? Perhaps they do not
with to do so; we fear some would prefer a dime novel. And how
many take no teachers' periodical? Still, those very persons are
perhaps the most clamorous to be counted members of a "profession!"
What should we say of a physician who reads no books, and took
no periodical treating of medicine? What should we say of a lawyer
who did not know any thing of Blackstone? But are not some members
of the teachers' "profession" perfectly ignorant of any knowledge
Complaint is often made that society does not give teachers the
rank and the consideration to which their office should entitle
them. No doubt this is true of some communities and of some teachers;
but, when one observes the lack of culture, of earnestness, and
of true professional spirit so common to a large number of those
who teach, he cannot avoid the conclusion that, on the average,
teachers are appreciated as highly as they deserve.
"The fault . . . is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings."
Further, the teacher should not only read professionally, but
he should write professionally for teachers' periodicals or the
common newspaper. The editor of almost any paper will be glad
to open his columns to well written articles on education. We
have more than hinted that the community need instruction on educational
themes; who should instruct them, if not the teacher? And the
readiest medium for the instruction of the community is the newspaper.
Nor can he afford to absent himself from the gatherings of his
fellow-teachers,--in the Institute, or the County, State, or National
Association. He needs to do this that he may gain the quickening
that comes from social intercourse with those engaged in like
pursuits, as well as to become acquainted with the general drift
of educational discussion.
But here, of course, we shall be met by the school-keeper, who
says, "It costs money to buy books and periodicals, to travel
to distant places, and to pay hotel bills. My salary is small;
I can not afford it." Deluded pedagogue, you can not "afford"
not to do it! Money invested in this way will pay you better in
money than if loaned on bond and mortgage. You look longingly
at the places filled by your fellow teachers who get good salaries.
Let us all tell you that we are pointing out one of the surest
roads to those very places. We have known a great many young teachers
who have risen from your position to such places, and we think
every one spent money out of his meager salary in the very ways
we are commending, although he could not "afford" it. But it brought
returns at an excellent rate of interest. As well might the carpenter
say, "I must exhaust my strength with this dull, old, worthless
plane; I can not "afford" to pay money for a better one;" or the
farmer say, "I can not 'afford' to pay money for seed corn."
It is true, however, that in some country districts a studious
teacher loses, at least temporarily, the confidence of the people.
They are possessed with the notion that the teacher's business
is simply to impart information, and that if he be prepared for
his work he must have acquired all the information he needs to
impart. Hence, any effort of his in the way of study appears to
them to be an exhibition of weakness. Such foolish notions will
disappear as people come to have more correct views of the work
We have urged that the teacher should always be an active student
in order that he may be, and continue to be, a useful and efficient
teacher. This is by no means al, however. In no other way can
he save himself from becoming a juiceless "pedagogue," such as
our great novelists have sometimes ridiculed. Furthermore, it
is very apparent that intellectual activity tends to prolong life.
A very large number of the world's best thinkers have retained
their full powers to a very advanced age, and there is good reason
to believe that their advanced age was largely due to their intellectual
activity. Hence, it is for the teacher's highest personal interest
never to relax his efforts as an earnest student.
THE TEACHER.--Continued .
THE old proverb, "As is the teacher, so is the school," is generally
true. The school is what the teacher makes is,--it is largely
a reflection of himself. If he is prompt, accurate, and thorough,--or
if he is slovenly, turbulent, or untruthful,--the school will
probably take on the same character, to a great degree. For good
or evil, the teacher is reproducing himself in his pupils. And,
as many of his pupils will become teachers in due time, his influence
is constantly widening. The author well remembers that in his
first school he scarcely undertook any thing in the way of teaching
or discipline without imagining how a former teacher of his would
do were he is his place,--the image of that man was constantly
before his mind.
It is of the greatest importance that the teacher should be worthy
of imitation in all respects. But the faults of a teacher who
is generally good and strong are likely to do more harm than the
faults of a weaker teacher, for he makes a deeper impression on
his pupils; and, in their efforts to imitate him, they are quite
as likely to seize on his weak point for copying as his strong
ones. Perhaps they are more likely to do so,--for crude minds
seem inclined to believe that they are like some great man when
they have caught one of his tricks or mannerisms. I think some
young men may have fancied that they were like Horace Greeley
because of their poor handwriting.
Of course, it follows that the teacher's responsibility is very
great. He should realize this fact, and it should make him thoughtful,
faithful, and diligent. But he should not allow it to weigh him
down. He should do his best, and then leave it; it is of no use
to worry about results. In one of her last addresses to her pupils,
Mary Lyon uttered the famous saying, "There is only one thing
in the universe that I fear,--either that I shall not know my
duty, or shall not have the strength to do it." There is nothing
else that any one ever ought to fear.
.--The old Latin proverb says, "Poeta nascitur non fit, "--the poet is born, not made. To a certain extent, the same
thing is true of teachers. Probably any one of ordinary capacity
will be able to teach respectably by due preparation and diligence;
but no one will be likely to reach a high place in the ranks of
teachers if he has not some special gift for teaching. And native
ability for teaching is not the same thing as native ability in
general. Some persons most highly endowed with ability for scholarship
succeed very poorly as teachers; on the other hand, some excellent
teachers whose general ability is not marked.
Every teacher in a Normal school will discover that his brightest
pupils are not sure to make the best teachers. What is the true
course for one who finds, on attempting to teach, that he has
gifts in that direction? Sometimes persons seem to think that
because the are thus gifted they may trust wholly to their gifts,
and dispense with careful preparation. The true course is just
the opposite of this: gifts specially adapted to any work indicate
the propriety of special preparation for that work,--a principle
laid down in out discussion of special education.
,--The mind can act, or be acted upon, only through the body.
Hence, the importance of a healthy body to a mind-worker. The
notion that feeble, sickly people, who can not stand the strain
of physical labor, are proper persons to teach school is very
unreasonable. Some persons know, from trying both, that it is
much easier to plow than to teach school when one has the headache.
Besides, there are few occupations more filled with petty annoyances
than teaching; the teacher can hardly meet them properly if he
is in ill-health. Further, the weakness and irritability attending
illness are likely to cause him to provoke new annoyances, where
good health would have enabled him to overcome such as naturally
arise. Of all men, the teacher needs a clear head and a cheerful
heart; and these are hardly possible to one who has a diseased
HOW TO PRESERVE HEALTH. --If the teacher's health is reasonably
good, how is he to keep it so? We will venture to offer a few
common-sense suggestions, not as a physician, but as a person
who has learned something from observation and experience; and
the suggestions we offer to the teacher are quite as important
for the pupil. We will first mention two of the ways "How not to do it."
First.-- Do not expect to keep your health by a constant thinking about
it. Do not keep up a continual study to see if you can not detect
some symptoms of disease in yourself. Believe yourself well, if
you are not obliged to believe otherwise. Give thought enough
to the subject to take reasonable care of yourself, but no more.
Second.-- Put far off the notion that you can abuse your body, and then
make it as good as it was before by taking medicine. Not a few
people destroy their health by frequent dosing. You may have heard
of the epitaph:
"I was well, and wished to be better,
Took physic, and here I am."
We fear it would be appropriate for more tombstones than have
ever borne it. Medicine is doubtless necessary at times, but only
as a dire alternative. Nor do we believe medicine will ever make
one "as good as new."
GOOD AIR.--We need not stop to prove that good air is absolutely
essential to good health. We should spend a reasonable amount
of time in the open air; and we need pure air in our work-rooms,
and especially in our sleeping-rooms. Few of our school-rooms
have any proper provision for securing good air; and the air become
vitiated so gradually that we are very likely not to know that
we are suffering from it if we do not oblige ourselves to stop
and think about it. But what shall we do about it? To drop window
from the top will probably let a flood of cold air fall on some
one's head; to raise a window from the bottom is no better. Windows
may easily be fitted with a close-fitting board to be put in front
of the opening, so that the current will strike no one. But, in
general, the best thing that can be done is an ordinary, unventilated
school-room, is to take time, as often as need be, put the school
in motion, and then open the windows on both sides, completely
changing the whole body of air.
EQUILIBRIUM OF BODILY TEMPERATURE.--In a healthy body, in good
conditions, there is a certain equilibrium or balancing of temperature
between its different parts which can not be disturbed without
danger to health. One of the chief dangers from bad modes of ventilation
is in the drafts,--and a draft is dangerous because it is likely
to disturb the equilibrium of body temperature by cooling a part
of the body. The same danger follows the wetting of the feet,
or sitting with part of the clothing dampened. Heavy mufflers
worn about the throat are dangerous for the same reason; they
heat the throat unduly, and when they are removed a rapid cooling
of the parts is likely to follow,--and the equilibrium is disturbed.
The extremities are the parts most exposed to danger, as they
are farthest from the center of life and heat. The legs and feet
should be well protected,--especially the soles.
There is much wisdom in the old proverb, "Keep the feet warm,
and the head cool.." The author was once riding with Dr. Calvin
Cutter over the bleak hills of New Hampshire, facing a cold November
wind. The Doctor was provided with a heavy shawl; but, instead
of wrapping it about his shoulders, he wrapped it around his legs
CLEANLINESS.-- Our bodies are wasting all the time; particles
of matter are dying, and new ones are taking their place. When
we cease to die in this way, we are certain to die altogether.
The dead, worn-out particles must be removed, and nature has provided
for their removal in three ways: a great part passes off through
the lungs, a part through the bowels, and a large part through
the pores of the skin. If any one of these avenues of escape is
stopped, the others must be overloaded, or disease will follow,--probably
both will result. The exhalations throught the pores contain watery
vapor; when this passes away, the dead matter remains, closing
A chill will do the same thing; hence, Dr. Cutter says, "If you
were to varnish a man all over, he would seem to die of a cold."
For the reason given above, when the pores are clogged, diseases
of the lungs or the bowels are likely to follow. Probably, much
of the Summer Complaint" is due to chills, or dirt on the skin,
when the innocent water-melons or other fruits bear the blame.
The danger from sitting in a room "just a little too cold" arises
from the closing of the pores.
When the pores are closed by exhalations, the skin should be put
in working condition again by bathing, or friction, or both. No
definite rules can be given as to how often this should be done,
whether cold water or warm water should be used, etc. It should
be done often enough to keep the skin clean. If, after using cold
water, the skin can be put into a healthy glow by friction, then
a cold bath is god; but the bath should never leave a chill.
EXERCISE.--No one can be healthy without a due amount of muscular
exercise. Care in this regard is especially necessary to the teacher,
because his work furnishes but little exercise. Young people leaving
active pursuits for the school-room, whether teachers or students,
are likely to lose health if they are not very careful in the
matter of exercise. But no fixed rules can prescribe just the
best kind or amount of exercise; the needs vary with the individual.
Walking, riding, playing vigorous games, etc., are all good forms
of exercise. But, in general, it is best that the exercise have
a purpose in itself apart from the fact that it is to preserve
health. This is the advantage of a game, or a walk for the study
of botany or geology, over the dull "constitutional."
Dr. Edward Hitchcock, of Amherst College, was in a state of health
so feeble that his friends had nearly given him up to die; but
just then he became interested in geological studies. He took
long walks to find specimens; and the result was that he not only
regained his health, but became one of the foremost geologists
of his time.
Most of the common forms of exercise call into action only a part
of the muscles; well devised gymnastics exercise all,--hence,
their advantage. The "health-lift" is highly commended.
FOOD.--In respect to food, one man's wants can not be made the
guide for another, either as to kind or amount. There is truth
in the proverb, "One man's meat is another man's poison." The
structure of our teeth indicates that it is intended that man
should eat both animal and vegetable food. But the relative amounts
of each will vary with different persons and with different circumstances.
As a general rule, it is safe to eat whatever is commonly regarded
as eatable, unless one finds that it does not agree with him;
in that case, he should let it alone, whatever it may be, or however
much appetite may crave it. There is scarcely any thing about
which more nonsense has been written than about food. A good general
rule is, "Eat good food, well-cooked, and enough of it."
Take your food regularly, --two or three times a day, as best
agrees with you, --eat when the time comes, and at no other time;
take nothing between meals. Eat slowly, --many Americans seem
to pride themselves on the brevity of the time in which they can
cram their meals into their stomachs.--they "glory in their shame."
No ordinary meal should occupy less than twenty minutes,--perhaps
half-hour is better. Social meals are better than solitary. Pleasant,
lively conversation should take the mind off the act of eating,--
our meals should be something more than mere feeding times. No
violent exercise of mind or body should immediately precede or
follow a meal.
SLEEP.--In respect to sleep, also, one man's needs can not be
made the measure for another. Each should ascertain for himself
how much sleep he needs,--and then he should take it. Probably
very few persons need less than seven hours, --more require eight
or nine. There is a very foolish notion that time spent in sleep
is lost; the student often takes pride in the number of hours
that he saves from sleep. These are hours that he borrows at a ruinous rate
of interest. No time is ever lost that is spent in needed sleep.
Sleep repairs the wasted energies of the body, especially of the
nervous system; and, if we fail to get enough sleep, bankruptcy
of power is inevitable, sooner or later. Brain-workers probably
need more sleep than manual laborers; but they are not as likely
to feel their need. If one persist in robbing himself of sleep,
he is likely to find, after a time, that he can not sleep. Doubtless,
this hastened the death of Horace Greeley. It is quite probable
that Hugh Miller's insanity was due to the same cause.
Whether to sleep the first part of the night or the last is a
question each may settle for himself, but let him take care not
to cut the night at both ends. As in eating, so in sleeping, regularity
is of the greatest importance. Nature accommodates herself to
our ways, but she will not be trifled with. If we have a regular
time to sleep, we shall generally feel sleepy when that time comes.
Health and bodily vigor are gifts that depend largely upon ourselves.
Some people think sickness and bodily weakness criminal; and,
doubtless, they are so in many cases.
THE TEACHER. -- Concluded .
What are Habits?--
The word habit comes from the Latin habere, to have; it means any custom, or
practice, or act which by repetition becomes to us like "second
nature." That which is habitual to us we do without thought, or
effort, or special intention,--very much in the same way that
we breathe. Habits are the practices or customs that we have ; or, if we think of their power over us, it will not be far
wrong to say that they have us . It has been said that "man is a bundle of habits;" at any rate,
a man's true character in all respects is indicated by his habits;
nor would it be wrong to say that his habits make him what he
Dr. Rosenkranz has well said that we are not thoroughly educated
in any thing till it has taken on the form of habit; in other
words, habit is the form which all true education takes. This
may be illustrated in a great many ways: one is not thoroughly
educated in the multiplication table if he has to stop and think
how many are eight times seven; he is not educated to write while
he must think carefully how he ought to form his letters; he is
not educated in morality while he debates the question whether
he shall do right.
The great value of habit is that it enables us to do easily what
ought to be done, and to do it rapidly and accurately, without
any special thought or effort.
Habits, if they are bad, are full of danger, as they lead us to
do many things which our judgment or our conscience disapproves.
The bad habit of the drunkard carried him onward in his downward
course, in spite of his judgment, his conscience, and his feeble
Bodily Habits.--A good test for all habits pertaining to the body
is furnished by the question, "Are they becoming?" By this test,
all vulgar habits, such as spitting, picking the nose, awkwardness
of gait, etc., will be condemned.
DRESS.--It is significant that dress is often called habit; and
the test just given for a habit of the body applies here with
much force. Dress is intended to serve three purposes; viz., Decency,
comfort, and adornment. Any dress that is not both decent and
comfortable is not becoming, no matter how costly or stylish it
may be. It is not necessary that dress should be very expensive
in order to be becoming; nor can teachers, generally, afford very
expensive dress. But the teacher's dress should be neat, well-fitting,
and neither too much nor too little conformed to the prevalent
mode. In style of dress, the teacher may well follow the old couplet:
"Be not the first by whom the new is tried,
Nor yet the last to cast the old aside."
The material should be good, although it need not be very costly;
but, in general, very cheap material is not really economical;
a coat that costs thirty dollars, if it is worth it, is likely
to be cheaper in the end than one that is worth but fifteen dollars,
as it will wear much longer, and will retain its good looks till
it is worn out. One may be considered well-dressed when his appearance
is pleasing to good taste; and yet it is difficult, after leaving
him, to specify the kind or cut of the garments he wore.
Adornment is one proper purpose of dress; hence, a reasonable
amount of ornament is well, especially in a lady's dress, if only
it be modest, genuine, and in good taste. Sham is despicable anywhere,
but nowhere more despicable than in ornament, because nowhere
else is there so little excuse for it. Nor can we believe on is
thoroughly sound morally, who will consent to wear sham jewelry
or other sham ornaments. This may be a rash assertion; for, when
we remember how many thousands of dollars' worth of jewelry are
made in this country, of which you have "your choice for a dollar,"--but
will be cheated to the amount of ninety cents, at least, if you
take it,--we must suppose that we are pronouncing judgment on
a great many people. But we will say deliberately that we would
not employ a person to teach children if we knew that such a person
wore sham jewelry or other sham ornaments, knowing them to be
POSITION.--The teacher should be very careful not to suffer himself
to assume uncouth or awkward positions,--such as tipping his chair
on two legs, thrusting his hands into his pockets, standing in
a stooping attitude or with his legs twisted, or sitting on desks
and tables, etc. Nor should he suffer his pupils to form such
habits. An erect position in standing or sitting, with shoulders
well thrown back, is not only more becoming, but it more healthful,
MOVEMENT.--All movements in the school-room should be rapid, quiet,
and graceful. In the attempt to move quietly, all awkward attitudes,
such as walking on tip-toe, walking with hands clasped behind,
etc., should be carefully shunned. If teacher or pupil be not
actually deformed, nothing but care, effort, and perseverance
is necessary to form correct habits both of position and movement.
If the teacher find that his pupils have bad habits in these respects,
he should set about correcting them; of course, this is not the
main purpose of the school, but it is too important to be neglected.
Boys and girls in country schools are likely to be unreasonably
sensitive on the points just mentioned. The writer well remembers
that, in such a school, which he attended when he was a boy, the
boys nearly rebelled because a new teacher peremptorily forbade
them to wear their hats in the school-room at the noon intermission.
They were not bad boys, nor were they fools; they were simply
raw fellows who never had been taught any better. Had the teacher
been wise enough, he might have accomplished his purpose without
disturbing any of their prejudices or awaking any opposition.
.--We shall make no attempt to consider all mental habits, but
will only speak of four that are of special significance to the
CONCENTRATION.--No one ever accomplishes much intellectually,
unless he can command his mental forces, and bring them to a focus
on the matter in hand. This the good teacher must be able to do,
even in the midst of distractions. But it is, perhaps, quite as
necessary that the teacher have the power of rapidly withdrawing
his mental forces from the thing in hand, and quickly centering
them on something else; without this power, he will often be the
victim of absent-mindedness. He alone who has control of his faculties
in both directions is prepared to use his powers to the best advantage.
It is said of the great Napoleon, that he could sit down in his
tent, with the sound of the cannon in his ears, spread out his
maps, and plan the movements for the next day as coolly as though
he were in the midst of perfect solitude; then, we his work was
done, he could fold his maps, stretch himself on his camp bed,
and be asleep in four minutes. The teacher should aim at acquiring
the same kind of power, so far as he can do it.
ACCURACY.--Mental work is worth little in any case,--usually it
is worth nothing,--if it is not accurate. The teacher ought to
be in love with accuracy, and he ought to inspire that love in
his pupil. "About right" is wrong; and wrong and right are opposed
to each other. Let the teacher train himself, and train his pupils,
to exactness in though, exactness in speech or any other kind
of expression, and exactness in operation. Washington's accuracy
in his work as a young surveyor is often mentioned. Without it,
would he ever have become the exact, methodical, successful man
that he was?
RAPIDITY.--When the mind can work accurately in any field, then
it becomes o the highest importance to cultivate the power of
working rapidly. This is a valuable habit, not only because more
work can be done in a given time, but the mind is likely to do
better work when it is aroused, -- when it works under pressure.
"Keep cool" may be good advice sometimes; but sometimes it is
better to warm up,--to get all in a glow. It is well for the teacher
to train himself to work as rapidly as possible in whatever private
study he undertakes, as well as in conducting the exercises of
the school. In hearing classes, he should not suffer himself to
waste time in calling roll, in finding his place in the book,
and in "getting ready" in general. The recitation should begin
at once, under a "full head of steam," and should be kept up in
that way till it closes. The greater the pressure, in respect
to time, brought to bear on the class, the better, so long as
it does not result in confusion. Of course, such vigorous work
should be followed by seasons of sufficient rest.
THOROUGHNESS.--The word thorough is the same as the through. To
be thorough in a thing, then, is to go through it completely,
encountering and mastering every difficulty. Thoroughness never
is accomplished by dabbling simply with the surface of things;
it must go deep down, and become master of principles. It is not
necessary to know all that can be known about a subject in order
to be thorough in it; but it is necessary to know the mot important
things about it, to know them in an accurate and orderly manner,
and to know completely all that we pretend to know.
.--Here, again, we shall make no attempt to exhaust the list,
but will call attention to four habits that are of special significance
to the teacher.
TRUTHFULNESS.--There can be no right moral character unless it
have truthfulness for its basis; hence, the propriety of placing
this as the first of moral habits. We hope that there are few
teachers who are in the habit of lying openly and intentionally,
but something more than this is necessary to a character that
is really truthful. There are many ways of being untruthful besides
lying outright. The teacher who make hasty threats or rash promises,
and then fails to keep them, is untruthful. So is he who pretends
to a great love for his pupils which he does not feel; or he who
pretends to know all about a subject of which is he is ignorant.
And what shall we say of the teacher who has set exercises prepared
to display when visitors happen in? Or of the one who "fixes up"
his exercises for examination? Such a man may read all the moral
lessons on lying to his school, including the story of Ananias
and Sapphira; but what does he teach them about the subject, except
that it is a good thing to lie when any thing is likely to be
gained by it? And what shall we say o the pupil who borrows work
of his neighbor and palms it off as his own? Or who cheats in
his lessons in other ways? And what can the teacher, guilty of
dishonest practices, do with a pupil whom he catches at these
tricks? Such tricks of teacher and pupils have in them the essence
of thievery as well as falsehood, for they are attempts to get
something for nothing by dishonest means.
When the true sense of "honor" prevails in our schools, instead
of the miserable false code now so common, the pupils will feel
it to be their duty, quite as much as their teacher's, to expose
all such wretched practices, and to assist in bringing the offender
to justice. What would be the moral status of any community where
every man should feel bound "in honor" to shield a criminal from
the pursuit of the civil officers, instead of assisting them to
bring him to justice?
KINDNESS.--It is the teacher's duty to form the habit of kindness
in thought, in look, and in speech. This is a moral habit when
it is formed and persisted in because it is right, for,
MORALITY is a due regard for the right and a shunning of the wrong.
CHEERFULNESS.-- Much the same thing may be said about the habit
of cheerfulness; it is a moral habit when it is followed because
it is right. To be kind and cheerful when one is in glowing health
and all goes well, simply because one feels like it, is right
no doubt; but there is no morality in that any more than there
is in the cat's lapping milk. But for one to force himself to
be kind and cheerful habitually, when circumstances and his feelings
prompt otherwise,--to do this because it is right,--is moral action
of a high quality.
JUSTICE.--A careful habit of justice is essential to the teacher's
success. The pupils, although ill-dressed--and even ill-behaved--have
rights that no teacher can justly ignore. And the know it, too;
they are quick to feel an injustice, and the memory of it will
remain for years. It is not easy for the teacher to do exact justice
by his pupils; he must be sheriff, lawyer, jury, judge, and executioner
all in one, and that, too, in a press of other matters. It requires
a right purpose, and unbiased judgment, a clear head, and much
deliberation. But he should undertake nothing in the way of trying
and punishing offenses unless he is willing to take the time and
the pains to become acquainted with all the facts, to weigh them
carefully, and to do exact justice to the full extent of his ability.
It is a fortunate thing for a teacher when his pupils come to
feel that, whatever may happen, they are sure to get justice at
his hands. True justice towards pupils will have a sacred regard
for their feelings, and will not subject them to harsh, undeserved
sarcasm, and ridicule any sooner than to any other form of ill-treatment.
.---Usually, the teacher has nothing to say about the situation
of the school-house. But he should have intelligent views on this
subject, as well as on all other connected with his business.
Other things being equal, of course the best place to put the
school-house is in the center of the district; but if the center
is in marshy ground, or is otherwise unpleasant or unhealthy,
or it if is not so accessible as some other place, then the school-house
should be placed elsewhere. In a city, the school should not be
situated on a noisy or dusty street, nor in the immediate vicinity
of great manufactories or railroad depots, nor near saloons or
other disreputable places.
SURROUNDINGS.---In the country, at least, the school grounds should
be liberal in extent. A half acre is little enough; an acre is
better. Probably the best shape for the ground is that of a rectangle
about twice as long as it is wide. The ground should be surrounded
by a substantial fence, to protect it from stray animals, and
to determine the pupils' bounds. The house should be set well
back from the street; the ground in front should be devoted to
ornament, and the ground in the rear should be divided into two
parts by a high and close fence extending from the house to the
boundary of the lot. These divisions may be used as play-grounds
for the boys and girls respectively. A few trees for shade should
be planted around the play-ground, but there should not be so
many as to interfere with free sports.
The ground in front of the house should not be used as a play
ground, but should be kept in grass, and well adorned with trees,
flower-beds, etc. An intelligent and skillful teacher can do much
towards ornamenting and caring for this front yard. He can get
assistance from the pupils in planting trees, flowers, etc., thus
teaching them something about plant-life, awakening in them a
pride in their surroundings, and so cultivating their aesthetic
nature,--a part of education that seldom receives the attention
it deserves. The yards should be well supplied with good plank
or brick walks; brick are perhaps cheaper, but plank walks dry
sooner and are not so troublesome in icy times.
THE STRUCTURE.--In building a school-house, it costs but little
more to have some regard to due proportion and modest ornament
than it does to build a structure that looks like a barn or a
stable. The child will remember his old school-house as long as
he lives. Is it worth while that the remembrance should be that
of a building that is cheerful and tasteful? In building the school-house,
care should be taken that the light shall not enter in front of
the pupils, but from the sides of the room, and perhaps from the
rear. There should be enough windows to give sufficient light;
but, in some cases, there are more than are needed, giving too
great a glare of light in bright summer days, and admitting too
much cold air in the winter. It is well to have the windows protected
by strong board-shutters, that may be closed at night and in vacation.
In this way, the house may be protected from tramps and other
It would be well if all our school-houses were built with some
due provision for ventilation; it is not difficult, if care be
taken when the house is building. Let the walls, floors, and windows
be made as tight as possible, and then provide for bringing fresh
air into the house. Warm the air thoroughly by passing it over
a properly constructed heater, and then pass it into the schoolroom.
But, in order to make the air circulate, it is just as necessary
that provision be made for the foul air to pass out, as for the
pure air to get in. The place of escape should be made near the
bottom of the room, and the foul air should pass off into the
chimney, or into a separate flue provided for the purpose.
FURNITURE.--Usually the desks, etc., are purchased without consulting
the teacher; but he ought to be able to show the people that it
is much better to supply convenient, well-made, and well-finished
desks, instead of the coarse desks that a common carpenter can
make of ordinary lumber. The cost is but little greater, for those
who manufacture school furniture as a business select their lumber,
dry it thoroughly, and do most of the work by machinery. Hence,
they can make it durable, tasteful, and at a moderate cost. Such
furniture in itself teaches the pupils useful lessons; besides,
it does not offer the same temptations to rude boys that rough,
uncouth furniture does. Few boys will try their jack-knives on
well-made, handsomely finished desks.
APPARATUS.--As a part of the furniture, we would class books for
reference, globes, maps, and other apparatus. It often happens
that it depends almost wholly on the teacher how much of such
furnishings there shall be, and of what kind. If there is a lack
of this respect, a teacher who is really is earnest will attend
to the matter. Generally, he may get what he needs by making proper
representations to the school authorities. If he can not do it
in this way, he or his pupils may raise money by circulating a
subscription paper; or some entertainment may be given by the
school, to which a small fee may be charged. A very acceptable
entertainment may be prepared with but little, if any, interruption
of the regular school work. In fact, the exercises may consist
largely of readings, compositions, and other exercises which belong
to the regular work. It is better that the teacher should not
contribute very freely of his own money for these objects; remember
that people prize the things they pay for.
CONDITION OF THE HOUSE.--The teacher should see that the house
all the premises are in good condition when he takes care of them.
If repairs are needed, he should stipulate with his directors
to have them made, when he makes his bargain with them; it may
be well to put this stipulation into the written contract,--for
there ought always to be a written contract. He should see, also,
that the house is clean when he takes it, and then he should see
that it is kept so. To this end, scrapers and mats should be provided,
and should be used. As often as may be necessary, the house should
be cleansed. The old-fashioned way of having teacher and pupils
gather on Saturday and clean the house is not a bad one. It furnishes
a good deal of fun, and at the same time gives the pupils a sense
of responsibility in the matter.
If the house is clean, well warmed, and well ventilated, it is
likely to be comfortable; but the windows should be supplied with
some kind of shades to regulate the amount of light. If there
are no interior blinds, very good shades can be made of cloth
or of stout paper. The room should be made cheerful by pictures,
mottoes, busts, and other ornaments,--even simple wreaths of leaves
are better than nothing. If the teacher own articles that will
ornament the room, he may use them for this purpose for a time.
But it is better that he should get the pupils to help him obtain
them, in some way, so that the school may own them. The sense
of ownership on the part of the pupils assists in the education
which they will get from these things, whose influence is sure
to be a lasting one.
Organization.--What is it to organize any thing? In the Greek
language is the word ergon,--spelled with Roman letters--which
signifies a work. The root letters of this word are rg or rgn , and these letters express the original idea. The same letters
are found in the words organ , urge , energy , thaumaturgy , and many others,--all these words express in some form the
idea of work. To organize any thing is to put it in a condition
to do some specific work. Why is the word appropriately applied
to the musical instrument so called rather than to a violin or
a cornet? Why is it proper to call the hand or the eye an organ
of the body?
What may be organized? Any thing which by organization is prepared
to perform a work. Hence, a legislative body, a town-meeting,
any public assembly, an army, or a school, needs to be organized
before it can enter upon its proper work. To organize includes
arrangement, but it means something more; for example, the books
of a library may be arranged, but a library can not be organized.
To organize a school is so to adjust its parts and forces that
it may do the proper work of a school.
It should not be forgotten that the work of a school is two fold;
viz., the acquisition of knowledge and the developing and disciplining
FIRST DAY'S WORK.--An old proverb says, "Well begun is half done."
There is a great deal of truth in this, especially in a school.
On the first day, the pupils of a school are more than usually
wide awake and observant. The teacher may fancy that he is taking
their measure; but he may be sure that they are taking his, quite
as certainly and quite as accurately. The impression from this
day will remain through the term. If that impression is a good
one, it is not certain that the term's work will succeed; but,
in that case, if the teacher fail, he will fail in spite of a
decided advantage. On the other hand, if the first day's work
is poor, future success will be uphill work.
PREVIOUS KNOWLEDGE.--It is important that the teacher should go
to his first day's work furnished with all the knowledge he can
possibly have concerning the house, the neighborhood, the pupils
and their previous progress. He may gain this knowledge by visiting
the district, inspecting the school-house, conversing with the
former teacher, the directors, and others, and by examining the
records of the pupils' progress and standing, if any have been
kept. It ought to be required of every teacher that he should
keep, and leave in permanent form, such records of his school
as would give his successor fairly complete information concerning
all the pupils.
In seeking knowledge concerning his future school, the teacher
should not allow himself to be biased by neighborhood quarrels
and jealousies; nor should be impress his patrons with the notion
that he is over-anxious to obtain their views on schools and education.
He ought not to lead them to think that he is as pliable as the
good-natured teacher who was willing to teach that the earth is
round or flat, just as his patrons should choose.
DEFINITE PLANS.--It is of great importance that the teacher enter
the school-house, on the first morning, with a complete and definite
plan of the work he proposes to do that day, and of the order
in which the several steps are to be taken. Few things will so
deeply impress his pupils with the idea that he is a master of
PROMPTNESS.--The teacher should be on time every day; but it is
especially important that he should be very prompt on the first
day. If he intends to be at the house fifteen minutes before school-time
on other days, let him be there half an hour before time on this
morning. The pupils are usually present early on the first day,
and the mere presence of the teacher may prevent the organization
of mischievous schemes; besides, the furniture will need to be
put in order, etc. He should greet his pupils cordially, but not
show himself to anxious to become familiar. He should have his
eyes wide open without seeming to be specially observant. If he
detect some pupil whose look or manner seems to forebode trouble,
it may be well to ask such a pupil pleasantly to assist in some
of the work of preparation.
Signals .--At the exact moment, the signal for order should be given.
If the house is furnished with a large bell, a warning signal
may be given about ten minutes before the time to begin, to be
followed by another, slighter signal at the exact time to begin.
It is not well to give signals by pounding on the house with a
ruler, nor in other uncouth ways; this is not putting things to
their appropriate use. Bells have been used as signals for ages,--this
is their chief purpose.
The slightest signal is the best, provided it is sufficient. A single, sharp tap of the bell means more than a prolonged ringing,--it
says, "Come now;" but the long ringing says, "Come, after a while."
A visitor once passed an hour in one of those schools that seem
to move like clock-work without any effort on the part of anybody;--no
school ever really moves in that way, however. The visitor was
especially impressed with the prompt and exact manner in which
the classes arose and passed to recitation,--there seemed to be
no signal. After the session, she asked a little girl belonging
to one of the classes how the pupils knew when to rise and pass.
"Why," said she, "did you not see the master move his thumb?"
ASSIGNING WORK.--As soon as the school is in order, work should
begin. Two minutes or less is time enough for the teacher's inaugural,--a
few words of greeting, a hope for diligence, good conduct, and
success, heartily spoken, --this is enough. If devotional exercises
are to be had on other mornings in the term, they should be begun
now. As soon as they are over, some work, carefully arranged beforehand,
should be given immediately to each pupil, except perhaps the
very youngest. Examples may be put on the board for those who
have been through the "ground rules" of arithmetic, another set
for those more advanced, a spelling lesson for the younger ones,
some exact task for the classes in geography, etc;--let each pupil
feel that a responsibility is put upon him. It makes little difference
what the work is, only it must be useful, reasonable, and definite . Fix an exact time at which the results will be called for,
and do not neglect it when the time comes.
TAKING NAMES.--As soon as all are at work, the teacher may proceed
to take the names; this should be done with the least demonstration
possible. If any pupils are working at the board, let them write
their names beside their work; give the older pupils slips of
paper on which to write their names; pass to the others, and take
their names in a whisper or in a low tone of voice. Be sure to
spell al the names correctly. It is very essential that the teacher
learn to put the names and their owners together as soon as possible.
A pupil is impressed very differently when his teacher calls him
promptly by name, from what he will be if the teacher designates
him as the boy on the back seat, the boy with the red necktie,
etc. He feels that, in the teacher's mind, he has passed out of
the limbo indicated by "boy" into the field of true personality.
Besides, as the pupils are so familiar with their own names, they
feel that it is an indication of weakness for a grown man,--a
teacher,--to be ignorant of what is so easy to them.
Learning Names. --To assist in learning the names, it will be well for the teacher
to be supplied with a plan or map of the school-room; then, as
soon as he ascertains a pupil's name, let him write it in the
proper place on his plan; of course, the pupils will have been
informed that they are to retain their present seats until they
are changed by the teacher's order or permission. Having the plan
before him, with all the names in their proper places, a careful
glance from time to time at the name and face which belong together
will soon associate them. He is a weak teacher in this respect
who can not learn to call each pupil, in a school of forty, promptly
by name at the close of the third half-day.
TEMPORARY CLASSIFICATION.--It is not wise to attempt to classify
completely at first. Adopt the classes of the previous term, put
new pupils where they seem to belong, taking care not to class
them too high; let the pupils distinctly understand that this
is all for the present, and that any changes will be made as soon
as you think best to make them. Having thus arranged the classes,
assign each a regular lesson. In the afternoon of the first day,
put a temporary programme on the board; and, by the second day,
the school should be working in regular order.
THE SCHOOL.---Continued .
.--Let us new consider more fully the question of classifying
a school. There are those who consider classification as an unmixed
evil, and hold that, in the best schools, there will be no classes.
They say that all instruction should be directed to the individual
needs of the pupils. Perhaps it would be a sufficient answer to
such a theory, to say that it is wholly impracticable in our public
schools; the number that must be taught by a single teacher is
so great that the pupils must be put in classes in order that
the work may be done at all. But this is not all that can be said;
there are other advantage besides a saving of time, as we shall
hope to show. But, in order to understand more fully the saving of time , let us consider the meaning of three words: tell , teach , and train .
TELL, TEACH, and TRAIN have a similarity in sound; they resemble
one another in meaning, also. But it is very important that they
be not used as synonymous. Let us examine their different meanings.
To tell a thing is simply to relate it, to say over words that
are fitted to convey a certain meaning, without any special care
as to whether the hearer really gets that meaning from them or
not. To teach a thing, we must not only put it before the learner,
but we must see to it that every step is thoroughly understood;
this includes telling, and something more. Teaching involves the
labor of two parties. Training includes all that teaching does;
besides, it requires of the one who is trained that he put into
practice that which he has been told and taught. And no work of
education is of much value that does not take the form of training;
for all education worth the name results in a habit, and habit
is formed by training.
To illustrate, suppose a youth enters the shop of a blacksmith
in order to learn the art of shoeing the horses. Perhaps his master
might tell him all about the making and setting of a horse-shoe
in half an hour; but he would not be taught how to shoe a horse
in that way. Suppose, instead, the master should tell him only
a small part of the matter, and then require the apprentice to
recite the next day what he had been told, and to answer test
questions to show that he fully comprehended it all. If this were
continued a few days, the youth might acquire all the knowledge necessary to shoe a horse; and, if he were a fluent talker, he
might impart this knowledge more clearly and more glibly that
his master. But can he shoe a horse? Of course not; no one thinks
of mastering a trade in this way.
On the contrary, when a boy enters the shop, his master will tell
him how to do some simple part of the work, and then set him up
to doing it. When he can do this part well, he is put to doing
another part. In this way, by a little telling and teaching, followed
by much practice, the master trains him until he can make and
set a horse-shoe as easily as he can walk. It has become a habit.
In a similar way, all the effective work of the school-room takes
the form of training; or, at least, leads to it. The pupil must
be shown how the letters are combined into the correct spelling
of words, and then he must write them until the letters flow from
his pen almost without thought. His processes in arithmetic, if
he really master the subject, become almost automatic. Training
in the use of good English, both spoken and written, should be
kept up until a slip will give him a shock, as something unnatural.
Similar things may be said about ever study of the school; when
they are properly managed, they all involve more or less of telling,
teaching and training on the part of the teacher. But training
is the most important of the three,--it should be the great business
of the school.
Nor is this fact any less important in a moral education than
in an intellectual one. Very significant are the words of the
wise man: "Train up a child in the way he should go; and when
he is old, he will not depart from it." No doubt many a disconsolate
parent, as he weeps over a wayward child who has "set at naught
all his counsels and would none of his reproofs," is inclined
to doubt the truth of Solomon's language. But, probably, if he
would think the matter over carefully, he would find that he has
only given his son "counsels," teachings as to the right of way,
but has never "trained him up" in the right way at all.
SAVES TIME.--In all the processes of telling, teaching and training,
classification saves time, but not in the same proportion. In
telling, the gain is directly proportioned to the size of the
class; one can tell a thing to as many as can hear him, in the
same time it would take to tell it to one. If he is careful to
teach what he tells, the saving is not so great, but it is still
considerable. In training, perhaps the saving is less; nevertheless,
one can train twenty in a class in much less time than it would
take to train them singly.
ENTHUSIASM FROM NUMBERS.--The help that students derive from each
other is no small gain. If there is the earnestness and freedom
of thought and expression that ought to prevail in a class, each
contributes something to the common stock, and not seldom a pupil
will suggest something that would have escaped the notice of the
teacher. Besides, a good thing said by one of the class is very
likely to impress itself on the other members more than it would
if the same thing had been said by the teacher.
Of course, there is a kind of mutual help that is very hurtful;
when a few of the class do all of the work, all of the thinking,
and the others merely borrow from them, an evil exists for which
the wise teacher will strenuously exert himself to find a remedy.
HABIT OF WORKING TOGETHER.--No man in this world can do very great
things alone,--all great enterprises are carried forward by many
combining and working together. But when men work together, they
are obliged to regard each other's wants and peculiarities, to
adapt themselves to each other, to give up some things that they
might retain if they were working alone. Since this is the case,
it would seem that class-work is more practical than solitary work.
The only apparent drawback to class-work is the danger that individual
peculiarities and needs will be neglected, and this may be very
serious. But the wise teacher, aware that such a danger exists,
will be very careful to reduce the harm coming from it to a minimum.
SIZE OF CLASSES.--Whatever advantages may be claimed for any classification
would seem to weigh in favor of large classes; the limit will
be reached with the number whom the teacher can make hear him.
But the disadvantage will weigh in favor of small classes, and
the limit is one person. The large class saves more time, develops
more enthusiasm, etc., while the small class give more opportunity
to regard individual needs and peculiarities. It is believed that
for older pupils thirty in a class are quite enough; twenty is
a better number; ten are too few. For little children, fifteen
make a large class; ten are about right; five are too few.
BASES OF CLASSIFICATION.--If a teacher should put his blue-eyed
children in one class, and the black eyes in another; or if he
should put all of a certain height or weight together, every one
would see the absurdity of the performance. It is scarcely less
absurd to put a boy into a certain class because of his age, or
family, or the wealth or position of his father, than to put him
there because of the color of his eyes. Perhaps, however, it is
proper to put a backward pupil who is somewhat mature into a class
a little higher than his acquirements would indicate, because
it is fair to suppose that he may work somewhat harder than the
pupils of the same standing who are less mature.
In many country schools, the classes are greatly multiplied because
of the diversity of text-books; this is a cause of loud and bitter
complaint on the part of many teachers. Probably it is better
that the text-books should be uniform; but it is very foolish
to put pupils who are of the same grade, or nearly the same, into
different classes merely because their books are not alike. There
is no possible excuse for this in any but a class in reading.
Can not a class get a lesson on compound fraction from two or
three different authors? Can they not manage a lesson on the geography
of Ohio, using different text-books? In fact, a skillful teacher
can turn this diversity to advantage.
TRUE BASES.--The true bases of classification are two in number;
viz., present acquirements and general ability. Of these two,
the latter is of more importance, although the former is more
easily ascertained; and very often it seems to be the only thing
regarded. General ability includes natural aptness, maturity of
mind, good habits of study, health, etc.,--a simple examination
does not readily disclose all these elements.
MODE OF CLASSIFICATION.--In order to classify a new school, the
teacher must do one of two things; viz., adopt a rough and temporary
classification at first, and then correct it as fast as possible,
or keep his whole school in a state of chaos till he can ascertain
the correct place of every pupil. We recommended the former course
in the last chapter. As soon as the temporary classification is
adopted, and the school set to work, the teacher should begin
to study carefully to see what pupils are in the right classes,
and what ones ought to be changed. To this end, every recitation
is an examination. Probably, most will be found to be in the proper
classes; then, for a few lessons, let attention be given almost
exclusively to those whose standing is doubtful, and let them
be changed as fast as the proper changes can be determined. It
is important that all should be in their permanent places as soon
as possible, in order that they may enter on the real work of
the term, and that all may be supplied with the proper textbooks.
If there are no more than forty pupils in the school, a sharp
and earnest teacher ought to have all in their places by the end
of the fifth day, or the seventh at farthest.
--No work anywhere is likely to be well done if it is not carefully
planned, --well mapped out. Certainly, a good programme is one
of the prime necessities of a good school. Of course, the teacher
may have such a programme in his own mind; this is well as far
as it goes, but it is better for him and for the school to have
it carefully written out and posted in some conspicuous place,
where all can see it. If the blackboard is scanty, the programme
may be written neatly on strong manila paper. In a school of small
children, the programme should show the exact time for studying
each subject, as well as the time to recite it.
ADVANTAGES.--There are two decided advantages in having a well-prepared
programme, and there seems to be no objection to it. A programme
is a saving of time to teacher and pupils. Without it the teacher
will have to stop and consider what to do next; he will be called
upon also to answer many questions as to the time when certain
classes will recite, etc. The pupils will waste time in asking
such questions, or in querying what they had better do next.
The programme lays a responsibility on teacher and pupil. No teacher
should ever ask if a class is ready with the lesson; let them
fell that when the time comes they are responsible for the lesson.
A sense of responsibility is the beginning of every movement towards
a higher plane. The programme is a very important educational
force. By it the pupil also forms the habit of performing his
duties regularly, promptly, and according to plan. Such a habit
is a grand preparation for the emergencies of life,--it is worth
more than the acquisition of a science or a language.
CONSTRUCTION OF THE PROGRAMME.--a few general hints on making
a programme may be given; but full instructions are impossible
unless one could know all the circumstances and conditions. The
time should be wisely distributed, according to the number of
classes, their size, the age and advancement of the pupils, the
nature of the study, etc. Young pupils should have short lessons,
and have them often; then minutes is long enough for the little
children. For older pupils and more difficult subjects, more time
should be allowed; but little can be done with an advanced class
in Grammar or Arithmetic in less than half and hour. It is better
for such classes to recite on alternate days than to recite every
day, if they can not have a time of reasonable length otherwise.
The first recitation in each half-day should be one from the older
pupils, prepared out of school hours, or one from the little children
who make no preparation. Younger pupils should have their lessons
so arranged as to allow a time to study each lesson just before
reciting it. No study like writing or drawing should immediately
follow a play time. A few minutes for movements, answering questions,
etc., should be allowed at regular hours. It is often well to
arrange the lessons so as to dismiss the younger children an hour
earlier than the rest; it is a relief to the children, to the
teacher, and to the older pupils as well.
HOW CLOSELY FOLLOW THE PROGRAMME?--There is little danger of following
the programme too closely; the danger is all on the other side.
Each exercise should begin and end at the exact time noted. If
the teacher is likely to become so interested in his work as to
overrun his time, he should appoint some pupil to give the signal;
and when the signal is given, he ought to obey it promptly. A
programme-clock will prevent all danger, if it is properly used.
If the teacher should chance to finish his lesson before the allotted
time expires, he may give the class something extra in the way
of information; if, however, he has nothing that is worth giving,
he should dismiss the class.
Grading.--There is no essential difference between graded schools
and well classified schools; the different grades are but classes
put into the hands of different teachers. A system of graded schools
should always have an able and well-qualified superintendent at
its head. Of course, such a person ought to command a good salary,
but he can use teachers of less experience under his direction
and supervision; and, in that way, better work may be done, and
at less cost than would be necessary of only those teachers were
employed who could be trusted to do their work without supervision.
No one ought to attempt the supervision of a system of graded
schools without giving the subject very careful thought and study.
The annual reports of the schools in cities like St. Louis, Boston,
Cincinnati, and Chicago will possess much interest for a superintendent.
The great danger in graded schools is that the grades will be
made too inflexible, and thus the individual will be sacrificed
to the system. A wise superintendent will devise ways to prevent
this, and to allow each student to progress as fast as he is able,
and no faster.
It is hardly proper to discuss the relative value of good management
in schools, as compared with instruction and training. In a certain
sense the management is subsidiary, of course; but it is certain
that no school can be well instructed if it is not well managed.
As for the training, a large and very valuable part of it results
directly from good management. The necessity of thoughtful attention
to the matter becomes apparent when we remember how many teachers
well qualified to instruct fail because they are not able to manage.
Probably the larger part of the failures are due to this cause.
.--A good, well-managed voice on the part of the teacher is one
of the most effective aids in managing a school. Such a voice
is not loud; but it is clear, distinct, pitched on a low key,
and generally it speaks with the falling inflection. When such
a voice speaks, there is always a quality in it that indicates
deliberate thought, purpose, and determination; in short, such
a voice says that a man or woman stands behind it. Not all people are equally endowed with good voices; but any
real man or woman whose vocal organs are not seriously defective
may acquire a good voice.
The teacher's eye may be another most effective instrument of
management. A teacher who knows how may answer a question, give
a command, grant a request, or quell a rising disturbance by a
glance of the eye. An eye that can do this is wakeful, alert,
expressive, and resolute,--like the effective voice, it must be
recognized as having an effective personality behind it. If a
teacher who can use his eye is this way suspects that mischief
is going on in a distant part of the room, he does not rush to
the scene of the disturbance, nor shout to the offender; but,
keeping his eye steadily fixed in that quarter, he waits till
he can catch the offender's eye, and then settles the whole trouble
by a look. Very likely, no other pupil knows any thing of what
is going on, and the quiet of the school is not disturbed in the
.--A large part of school management consists in government, but
by no means all of it.
GOVERNMENT is the exercise of authority.
It is causing the will of the governed party to yield to the will
of the governor. It must be clearly seen that one does not govern
by hiring, coaxing, wheedling, or exhorting. Some of these things
may be very proper to do at times; but let no one deceive himself
with the notion that he is governing when he does them.
REASON FOR IT.--But here the question of the ground of government
must be met. What right has one in authority to ask,--to compel,
if need be--other wills to yield to his? A great many partial
answers may be given, which are correct as far as they go: but
they may all be included in this:
One in authority has a right to govern for the good of the governed
No human government,--in school, family, church, or state,--has
any right to exist for a moment upon any other ground. Is it not
probable, also, that this is the reason for Divine government?
Men have not always looked at government in this way, as we have
abundant proof from history; nor do all who rule to-day observe
the principle, even if they recognize it in theory.
Government, everywhere and always, should rest on clear intelligence,
and not on the feeling of the one who administers it. The fickle
nature of a government by feeling is often illustrated by the
popular clamor for the death of a criminal when some crime of
great atrocity has shocked a community, followed by the same persons,
perhaps, signing a petition for the pardon of the criminal when
he has been legally convicted of the very crime that so moved
them before,--but after their feelings have had time to change.
In this case, feeling, in both its exhibitions, strives to effect
PERSONAL FEELING.--A just recognition of these principles will
not allow personal feeling of any kind to control in matters of
government. The teacher should ask, and honestly answer, a single
question in respect to any exercise of his authority that he proposes;
that question is, Will this be for the good of my pupils? This
will apply to all requirements, rules, regulations, refusals,
permissions, reproofs, and even punishments; not, Will this thing
give me ease, or power, or popularity, but, Will it benefit my
pupils, one or all?
To be sure, good government in school will benefit the teacher
in many ways, but his benefit is no just ground for any act of
authority. The world is so constituted that well doing usually
benefits more than one party; like mercy, "it is twice bless'd."
Many of the richest blessings of life and experience come to us
incidentally , and will come in no other way. Seek happiness directly, and
you will miss it; go forward in the way of duty, and it will seek
If the teacher manages and governs solely for the good of his
pupils, they will be sure to discover the fact, although he may
say nothing of his motives in the case,--as the wise teacher probably
will not. When the teacher rules in this way, and his pupils come
to know and feel the fact, the antagonism that sometimes exists
between teacher and pupils, as between two hostile parties, is
not longer possible to any intelligent, right meaning pupil. He
will feel that there is the same single aim proper for teacher
and pupils; viz., the best good of the pupils. When antagonism
between teacher and pupils disappears, there is harmony in place
of discord, peace instead of war, and efficiency in place of wasted
.--The principle we have been considering has a very important
relation to the subject of punishment. Punishment, or the possibility
of punishment, is essential to the very idea of government. A
requirement that implies no penalty may be a request or an exhortation;
it is not a law. There can be no law without some penalty to follow
its infraction. A government that will never hurt is a government
in name only, not in reality.
" PUNISHMENT is pain inflicted on an offender, by competent authority, either
to reform him or to deter others, or for both purposes."
That which causes no pain or loss can not be punishment,--nor
is it possible to punish any one but an offender, however much
pain we may cause him to feel. Nor can any one not in authority
punish, however much deserved pain he may visit on an offender.
Nor does proper authority punish when it inflicts deserved pain
on an offender, unless it be done with the right purpose. If it
were necessary, all these essentials to the true idea of punishment
might be fully illustrated from school-life. In the state, there
is another proper purpose of punishment; viz., the vindication
of justice; but in school, it is enough to regard the two we have
mentioned, and generally we should lose sight of neither of these.
IMPROPER.--Often we find forms of so-called punishment in school
that are base, cruel, and wholly unworthy the name. Among such,
are all degrading or brutal punishment,--such as shutting in the
dark, pulling hair, pinching the cheeks, indiscriminate hitting
and switching, and all forms of torture, some of which, like "holding
a nail in the floor," were often resorted to in the old-time school.
In this list should be put all angry and vengeful punishments,
and all unreasonable sarcasm and ridicule. None of these abominations,
and others that might be mentioned, are worthy of a decent teacher.
Among proper punishments we may name loss of rank, forfeiture
of privileges, imposition of tasks, reprimand, private and public,
etc,; but any punishment, the most proper in form, becomes improper
if administered in a wrong spirit by the teacher.
Some writers, notably Herbert Spencer, declare that all punishment
should in some way be related to the offense in kind or in sequence;
for instance, if one comes late to school, punish him by making
him stay after school as many minutes as he was tardy. No doubt
it is well to observe such adaptation when it can well be done;
but, in many cases, it seems hardly possible.
CORPORAL PUNISHMENT.--When the pain inflicted by punishment falls
upon the body, that punishment is corporal punishment, no matter
what specific form it takes. Is such punishment proper? Why not?
There is no government without law,--there is no law without possible punishment ; there is no punishment without pain of some kind,--hence, there
is no possibility of government without the possibility of some
pain to follow it. Can there be any pain but pain of body or pain
of mind? Why is the body so peculiarly sacred that it must feel
no pain in punishment? It is not strange that people are sensitive
respecting corporal punishment, for it has been terribly abused;
but we are wholly unable to see why it is not a perfectly proper
mode of punishment, in the school or in the family, when it is
deserved, when it is given in a proper measure and in a proper
way. Dr. Rosenkranz says: "The view which sees in the rod the
panacea for all the teacher's embarrassments, is censurable; but
equally undesirable is the false sentimentality which assumes
that the dignity of humanity is affected by a blow given to a
In reality, it will be found that any valid arguments against
corporal punishment are valid against all punishment. To punish
is to inflict pain,--an operation form which every right-feeling
person shrinks,--but an operation which should never be abolished
until the offenses cease which make punishment proper. Often,
in schools where corporal punishment is not allowed, something
worse is resorted to. Proper punishment is not cruelty, even though
it make the body sting,--taking far-reaching consequences into
account, it may be the bitterest cruelty to withhold it. Nor should
corporal punishment be the last form of punishment. Expulsion
may properly come later. If a rude, turbulent boy can be kept
in school and judiciously whipped into decent behavior, will any
one say that it is not better for him, and for all concerned,
than it would be to turn him into the street?
Caution.-- But corporal punishment should never be given without deliberation
and careful thought, followed by a clear conviction that it is
the best form of punishment for the special case in hand. It should
never be inflicted hastily, never in anger, and never in such
a way as to lead the culprit or any witness to suppose that it
is not painful to the one who gives it, as well as to the one
who receives it. Nor should it be made a small affair,--let not
the body of the child be assailed for any but a serious cause,
and then let the infliction be such that there will be no wish
to have it repeated. If, with the same pupils, a teacher finds
an increasing necessity for corporal punishment, he may be perfectly
certain that there is something the matter with himself; if he
can not cure the evil, he should seek another field or kind of
labor. It need not be said that punishment, even severe corporal
punishment, is perfectly consistent with the deepest love of the
teacher for his pupil; in fact, love may prompt the infliction
of punishment, as it may prompt any thing else that the pupil
needs for his guidance and direction.
We have now considered some of the general questions of government;
in our next chapter, we will point out some of the specific things
necessary to the teacher in order that he may govern well.
HE MUST BE MASTER.--In order that the teacher may govern his school
well, he must be master. His will must be law in his own domain; and there must be no
doubt about it, either in his own mind or in the minds of his
pupils. But, while this is true, there need be no unnecessary
exhibition of authority; least of all, should there be any boasting
or braggadocio on the part of the teacher. All such exhibitions
indicate a lack of confidence, if any thing, and pupils are likely
to put such a construction upon them. Besides, a boast from the
teacher appears to his pupils like daring them to transgress,
and a challenge is a great temptation to boys of spirit. In nature,
the strongest forces are always quiet forces; --for instance,
gravitation or the power of the sun's rays. The same thing is
true among men: the men who are obeyed most implicitly are quiet
men. Settled, unquestioned authority can afford to be calm and
quiet,--and calm and quiet are necessary to the most successful
settling of questions of authority.
HE SHOULD GOVERN AS LITTLE AS MAY BE.-- While there should be
no question of the teacher's right and power to govern, he should
never exercise his power without good reason for it; nothing should
ever be done simply to show that he has authority. Good government
is a blessing to humanity; but the less show of government the
better always, provided its purpose be accomplished. The philosophy
of the last statement is very simple: we have seen that government
should be not an end in itself, --it is the means to an end; viz.,
the good of the governed. It will always be true that, if any
end be secured, the less expenditure of means the better.
ABOUT MAKING RULES.--Growing out of the principle just given,
are some practical suggestions about making rules in school. The
old-fashioned school-master appeared before his school with a
long and elaborate set of rules, carefully drawn up; these rules
seemed to be intended to command explicitly every thing that should
not be done. They were often read to the school, and not seldom
they were printed or written, and posted up in some conspicuous
place. In a school so managed, the sum of every offense consists
in "breaking a rule." Now, a teacher has a perfect right to proceed
in this way; and certainly it is, and should be, a grave offense
in any school to "break a rule" laid down by authority. But there
is a more excellent way. There are a least five grave objections
to a long code of rules in a school.
First.--Make your list as long as you will, you can not all cases
that may arise. But, if you have made a long list, and have taught pupils that
the breaking of a rule is the substance of each offense, then
they will infer, --and logically, too, --that whatever they do,
they have committed no offense if they have broken no rule.
Second.--The enunciation of the rule will sometimes suggest the
thing forbidden, to the child's mind. An old story is told of a careful mother who was about to leave
her large family of children for a little time. Having a peck
of beans in the house, it occurred to her over-careful should
that her children might be tempted to put them in their noses
during her absence. So, it is said that she left them with the
following emphatic words, enforced by an ominous shake of her
finger: "Now, children, while I am gone, don't you go and put
any of those beans in your noses. Do you hear?" According the
story, she found all their noses full of beans on her return.
Whatever may be the truth of this story, there is no doubt that
forbidding a thing may often suggest the doing of it.
Third.--Human nature craves what is forbidden. The old story of the disobedience of our first mother is in perfect
accord with the tendencies of her descendants as we know them
Fourth.--Pupils will violate the spirit of a rule, while they
keep its letter. If whispering is forbidden, writing on the slate may follow; if
all writing is forbidden, too, perhaps the deaf and dumb alphabet
is used, etc. It would seem that, if the teacher's system of government
is the one that we are criticizing, he must make his indictment
cover the specific case, or no penalty ought to follow. In this
respect, government in the school should differ from government
in the state.
Fifth.--Every rule ties the teacher's hands. If he has made a law, he is bound to see it enforced; if he has
threatened a fixed penalty for an offense, he is not at liberty
to vary it. All this is in the way of his dealing freely with
each misdemeanor as the circumstances or the peculiarities of
the case may demand.
TWO KINDS.--Shall the teacher make no rules? We shall be able
to answer this question better if we notice that offenses in school
may be broadly divided into two grand classes: First, there are things which are offenses in school because they are
wrong in themselves,--they are offenses anywhere; of this class
are lying, cruelty, obscenity, etc. Against such offenses the
teacher need have no rule, except the general one. "Do nothing
wrong,--do what is right."
The writer was once called to take charge of a school where his
predecessor, it seemed, had governed in the way here condemned.
Often, when a boy was called to account for some bad behavior,
he would put in the plea, "I did not know it was against the rule."
The answer was, "It is not against the rule; a great many wicked
things are not against our rules,--we have no rule against murder.
But did you know it was wrong?" As this question was put, with
a look square in the offender's eye, he often frankly confessed
Second, There are very grave school offenses that are not wrong in themselves,
but are made offenses by circumstances. Such are whispering, walking
around the school-room, etc. Against such offenses, rules must
sometimes be made; but the teacher should make as few as may be,
and never make one till it is needed.
Illustration. --Many years ago, the writer took charge of a large grammar-school
in an eastern city. Young trees, five or six inches in diameter,
were growing next to the curbstone of our sidewalks. He had been
in his position for some months before the boys molested those
trees, so far as was known, nor had it occurred to him that they
would do so. But, boys have a way of doing things by "fits,"--they
play marbles, fly kites, etc., as the fit takes them. Nor are
they very unlike older people in this respect. One of these fits
took the boys one day while the teacher was gone to dinner; and,
on his return, he found all those young shade-trees as full of
boys as though boys had been their appropriate crop. Now, in general,
it is a very proper thing for a boy to climb a tree. But climbing
small shade trees in the city is a special case; the teacher concluded
an emergency was upon him, and something must be done. As soon
as the school had come to order, he passed through several rooms
and laid down the rule that there must be no more climbing of
the trees; and as the boys had learned that a law meant what it
said, that was the end of the trouble.
THE TEACHER MUST BE TRUTHFUL AND JUST.---We have spoken of truthfulness
and justice as moral qualities; we now say that they are essential
to good government. When the pupil clearly understands that the
teacher's word, in the form of a promise or a threat, has been
passed only after careful consideration, and that it will be made
good at all hazards, a long step has been taken in good government.
And the same is true when the pupil has come to know that his
teacher will take all pains to avoid doing him an injustice, even
though he may have occasion to treat him severely.
HE SHOULD BE DELIBERATE AND FIRM.--We have said that the teacher
should not pass his word till he as considered the matter carefully.
Thus, a teacher of good judgment will rarely have need to take
a back step,--a back step is a sad thing for a governing party.
If, however, he finds that, with all his care, he has made a mistake,
the only manly way, the only safe way, is to acknowledge his error
and take the back step. But if he has to do this often, his government
will surely suffer.
Teasing.-- When it is understood that the teacher's word, once deliberately
spoken, is final, much has been done, not only to make his government
strong, but to make it easy to himself. A parent or teacher who
is annoyed by the "teasing" of a child has only himself to blame
for it. If the child makes a request, and it is refused hastily
and thoughtlessly, he is very likely to prefer it again pretty
soon, perhaps over and over. Suppose the answer, pettishly given
by-and-by, should be, "Yes, yes; I suppose I shall have no peace
till I let you do it." That child has learned a lesson in teasing
that will return to torment his ruler more than once. Nor should
wheedling and coaxing be encouraged, any more than teasing.
The teacher may save himself many mistakes and annoyances, if
he will plan beforehand for perplexities and emergencies that
are likely to arise. He should defer a decision respecting any
thing unexpected that arises, if it can be done; if a decision
must be made at once, he can only use his best judgment, and run
the risk of a mistake.
THE TEACHER SHOULD SEEK TO AVOID ISSUES WITH PUPILS AND PARENTS.--A
matter has reached an "issue" when two parties have been brought
into direct opposition to each other, and one or the other must
It will sometimes happen that an issue can not be avoided reasonably
or honorably; in such a case, the teacher should take care that
he has right on his side, and then meet the issue squarely, determined
to win. But heedless, headstrong teachers quite often provoke
issues in which they are sure to be beaten; or, if they win, the
victory is too costly.
THE TEACHER SHOULD GOVERN HIMSELF
-This includes nearly all that has been said, or that need to
be said, in respect to the essentials of a teacher's government.
No one is fit to govern others till he can govern himself,--nor
is there any other victory of government so hard to win. The proverb
says, "He that is slow to anger is better than the mightily, and
he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city." Probably
the word "better" is used in the sense of stronger, as we sometimes
hear it used in common talk, -- and, in this sense, the proverb
is true. History tells of many men who were able to take cities,
but were unable to rule their own spirits,--Alexander is a notable
example. Of course, it is to be understood that one has a spirit
to rule if it is to require strength to rule it. Washington is
an illustrious example of a man who gained great power over others
because he first gained power over his own spirit, and there is
abundant evidence that his spirit was one that it required power
It must not be supposed that self-control means an icy, impassive
demeanor, nor slow and measured speech, on all occasions; self-control
is not necessarily self-repression. True self-control implies
the power to rouse and electrify, as well as the power to calm
or to awe. And this power is peculiar to no age or sex; it is
often lacking in the stalwart, bearded man; and it is often present
in the slender girl not yet out of her "teens." It is largely
a gift of nature; but, like all of nature's gifts, it may be improved
TWELVE PRINCIPLES.--We will close this chapter with a concise
statement of a few principles of good management:
First.-- No school can be well taught if it is not well managed.
Second.-- Never make any thing pertaining to management an end in itself.
Third.-- No work is ever likely to be well done it is not well planned.
Fourth.-- A teacher's example weighs more than his words.
Fifth.-- Make no law, grant or refuse no request, give no reproof, till you have thought about the matter.
Sixth.-- When you have once taken your position, stick to it.
Seventh.-- If, however, you see that you have made a mistake, confess and
rectify your mistake like a man.
Eighth.-- One who is kept busy about right things has no time for mischief.
Ninth.-- Be more anxious to prevent wrong-doing than to punish it.
Tenth.-- Often make a friend of a wayward pupil by getting him to do you
Eleventh.-- Seek always the good of your pupils; let good to yourself be
Twelfth.-- NEVER PUNISH IN ANGER.
LESSONS constitute the peculiar and special work of the school;
hence, we should give attention to this subject. What do we mean
by lessons? How should they be assigned? How learned? How recited?
These are some of the questions to be considered.
--The noun "recitation" comes from the verb to recite . This is derived from the Latin citare , to say, to call, or to summon, joined with the prefix re , meaning again. Literally, then, a recitation consists in saying
over what has been learned, as a poem, a passage of Scripture,
or a lesson. This is the idea expressed by the child when he asks
his fellow, "Can you say your lesson?" Now, the school exercises
which we call recitations ought to include much more than is expressed
by the literal meaning of the verb, to recite. It is somewhat
unfortunate that we have no more comprehensive word than the term
recitation, to apply to our school exercises. But, as this is
the term used by common consent, let us inquire what special exercises
a so-called recitation may properly include.
TESTING.--We mean, by testing, the ascertaining of the pupil's
knowledge of the lesson assigned for that particular hour; this
should be the first and most important part of the recitation.
The lesson has been carefully assigned at some previous time,
to be learned from a book or from some other available source.
Now, the questions are: Has the pupil tried faithfully to do his
work? Has he succeeded? In what degree, or in what respect, has
he failed? His acquisition of the lesson should have been two-fold,--that
is, he should have mastered the thought of the lesson, and he
should be prepared to state that thought in appropriate language.
He may have failed in either of these particulars. Skillful questioning
may show that the thought of the lesson has found a lodgment in
his mind with a fair degree of accuracy and fullness, but that
he is utterly unable, without aid, to give that thought any appropriate
dress in language. Or he may have committed to memory excellent
language from the book, and be utterly ignorant as to its meaning.
In either case, there is a call for inquiry and action on the
part of the teacher. If the failure is from no fault of the pupil,
he needs help. If it is a result of his own indolence or inattention,
he needs help of another kind.
In no case should the matter be passed over carelessly, nor should
a movement be made towards any thing else till the evil is corrected.
If the pupil has been unfaithful, reproof or punishment should
follow; if a large part of the class have been unfaithful, no
attempt at progress in any other direction should be made; but
after reproof or punishment the lesson should be assigned again,
probably with some addition, and the class should be dismissed.
For this reason, the test should come early in the recitation;
generally, the first thing, that it may be known whether any thing
else is to be attempted. If the testing is fairly satisfactory,
then other exercises should follow or accompany it.
INSTRUCTION.-- Hearing lessons recited is by no means all of the
teacher's business; he should teach, instruct, give additional
information, either by explaining what the pupil has already studied,
or by giving new and additional matter from independent sources.
And he should go before his class, every day, fully prepared to
give instruction in one or both of these ways. How much light
he may throw upon the abstract statements of the text-book, by
skillful illustrations drawn from every-day life in which all
are so intensely interested! How the showing of pictures of men,
of buildings, of landscapes, may give a vividness to the lesson
in reading or history or geography! In short, there is no end
to what the teacher can do, by imparting additional information,
to give clearness and fullness of thought, to awaken interest,
to stimulate memory, and to excite a strong desire to know yet
more upon the subject in hand. But, in order that these desirable
results may follow, the teacher must traverse wide fields for
his material, must carefully sift an prepare it, must present
it in a skillful way, and must be sure to call for it again.
The very name text -book suggests the use that should be made of it. It should be
a book of texts,--short, clear statements of facts or principles.
It is the teacher's business to make these texts comprehended
by the pupils, and to make them the basis, or the nucleus, of
a much larger stock of information than any text-book can properly
REVIEWING.--Generally, a recitation is incomplete that does not
include considerable reviewing. Reviewing is testing; but it is
testing in respect to former lessons; while testing, as we have
appropriated the word, is confined to the lesson of the day. Constant
repetition, which is review, is necessary in order to fix a thing
firmly in the memory. But, further, a matter brought up in review
may take on new meaning, from the fact that it may be seen in
new relations because of increased knowledge.
It should be understood that a review of the last lesson is always
in order; also, that when any thing in the present lesson is met
that relates to something learned in any former lesson, a review
of the former lesson in regard to the point in question is to
be expected. Pupils with whom a teacher constantly deals in this
way will form the habit of looking back, as they prepare their
lessons, to join the knowledge they are now gaining with what
has gone before. Besides the incidental reviewing here indicated,
of course room remains for frequent thorough reviews. There is
little danger that there will be too much reviewing.
DRILLING.--We borrow this term from the soldier's practice; he
goes through daily evolutions, not because he does not know the
movements, but in order to make them automatic. The pupil should
do similar work for a similar purpose. The object of a review
is to ascertain if knowledge previously gained has been retained;
the object of a drill is to make knowledge that is retained habitual,
--to give it an automatic or mechanical form. In every study,
some things need to be put in this form, -- elementary sounds,
slides, and inflections in reading; definitions, tables, and formulas
in mathematics; dates in history; rules in grammar, etc.
ASSIGNING NEXT LESSON.--At some time during the hour of recitation,
ample time should be taken for the assigning of the next lesson,
which, we shall show, is not a matter that can safely be treated
so hurriedly and carelessly as many seem to suppose. Generally,
the best time to do this is at the close of the lesson; but, if
for any reason, it is likely to be treated slightingly if deferred
till that time, it may well claim a place immediately after testing.
There is no absolute necessity that all of these five things,
which, it is claimed, belong legitimately to what is called recitation,
should come in every one. Drilling may oftenest be omitted; but
testing and assigning the next lesson, rarely or never. Nor is
their order very essential, except to the extent already indicated.
A skillful teacher will often contrive to have several of these
exercises going on at the same time. When he is instructing or
assigning a lesson, he needs the attention of all his class; but,
by the help of the blackboard or writing tablet, he may have some
pupils reviewing, some drilling, and some undergoing the testing
process, at the same time.
--You may observe a careless teacher sitting in some lounging
or easy attitude when the time for closing the recitation arrives;
glancing hurriedly forward in his textbook, he says: "Well, you
may take six pages next time;--no, perhaps five is enough,--class
is dismissed." Such actions and words betray woful [sic] ignorance
of his business or inexcusable laziness. The fixing of the next
lesson is a matter too important to be tossed off in that way.
LENGTH.--It is very important that the lesson should not be unreasonably
long; evil is sure to follow, but all pupils will not be injured
in the same way. There is one evil, however, that is almost certain
to follow when lessons of improper length are given repeatedly,--that
is, the formation of bad habits of studying. The pupils in almost
any class of moderate number may be roughly divided into three
groups: 1st, Those who are bright and industrious; 2d, Those who
are plodding, faithful, and ordinary in ability; 3d, Those who
are stupid, lazy, or tricky.
If too long a lesson is set before the first group, they will
learn it, if such a thing be possible, but mind or body, or both,
will scarcely escape injury. The second group will plod away and
do their best; but the result will be mere surface-work, or a
nebulous understanding of the matter. Continued efforts of this
sort will result in the formation of the worst possible mental
habits for the student. The third group, discouraged or disgusted,
will probably seek some dishonest way of seeming to have done
the work, or they will flatly give up with little or no effort,
consoling themselves with the saying, "One might as well die for
an old sheep as a lamb." This is the pet proverb of that class
If the lesson is too short, each of these groups will receive
special injury. The first will do the work required, but the spare
time remaining will be a temptation to evil. The second,--generally
by far the most numerous,--will probably accomplish the task,
but will take twice the necessary time, thus aggravating their
natural habit of slowness. The third, judging that the task is
easy, will probably procrastinate until too little time remains
even for an easy task; here their pet proverb comes into play
again, and they will be likely to do nothing.
Hence, the length of the lesson should be just right,--but it
is no easy matter to determine what is just right. We have divided
our class into three groups, but really no two pupils have exactly
the same ability to master a lesson. So, in determining the length
of the lesson, the teacher must make an average of the ability
of his class; it is well, then, to assign the lesson for those
who are a little above this average. In the writer's experience,
he has found that moderately difficult lessons are better learned,
in general, than very easy ones.
DEFINITENESS.--Exactly what will be required in the lesson should
be made so plain that no pupil can say, "I did not know what was
wanted" without incriminating himself. In every lesson assigned
from a book, some things are more important than others; these
demand special attention, and they should be very clearly designated.
The teacher may desire to have rule, principle, formula, or felicitous
statement reproduced verbatim; he should indicate such passages,
and let the pupils know clearly what he wants. He should tell
what parts he wishes mastered only in a general way, without any
attempt at precision. He may deem some statements unimportant
or erroneous; then he should let the pupils know that these may
be omitted. He may desire to have something added to what the
book gives, either from his own instructions or from some book
of reference; then he should tell the pupils exactly what he wants
and where it may be found.
THE TEACHER'S PROBLEM.--We shall probably agree that the teacher's
problem is assigning a lesson correctly is not a very easy one.
Let us see what elements enter into it. First, He must consider the inherent difficulties of the subject-matter;
and, in weighing its difficulties, he must look from the learner's
standpoint, not his own. Let him recall the lesson, not as it
appears to him now, but as it appeared at the first encounter.
It is true that the more difficult, having once been mastered,
afterwards appear easier than other less difficult things with
which we never had so severe a battle. Second, He must weigh the ability of the class, considering each individually,
and then making an average. Third, He must take into account the time allowed the pupils for preparation,
and the time allowed the class for recitation. Last, Various circumstances ought to modify the length of the lesson;
not the same task should be set in warm, debilitating weather,
as in weather that is clear and bracing, nor in a time of general
ill-health as in a time when health is good. The time in the term,
the pressure of home duties and other matters, may well modify
the teacher's demands on his pupils.
A problem of so much importance and difficulty can not be well
solved in the odd moments at school, nor amid the distractions
of the school-room. The teacher should make it a matter of careful
study in the quiet and solitude of his own room. He should give
it ample time, and give all its elements due weight and attention;
and he should go to his school prepared to assign each lesson
properly. If he shall find something that he had not expected,--for
instance, that the lesson for the day is not well learned,--he
may modify the lesson he intended to give.
--Having assigned a reasonable lesson, which the clearness and
precision that we have indicated, the teacher should see to it
that the lesson is properly recited when the time for recitation
PROMPTNESS.--The class should be called at the exact moment indicated
by the programme. When they are assembled, no time should be lost
in calling the roll, in adjusting books, in inquiries as to the
limits of the lesson, etc.,--nor should any member of the class
be asked if he is prepared. If, for any good reason, any pupil
has failed to prepare his lesson, let him rise at once, give his
reason, and ask to be excused; otherwise, it is to be presumed
that all are ready, and all should feel responsible for the lesson
as it was assigned.
In any class, or school, that does not contain more than forty
members, there is no need for a roll-call. Let each pupil have
his particular place, and a glance ought to enable the teacher
to know if he is in his place.
Let the recitation begin at once, with a brisk movement, and let
it continue briskly till the end is reached or the time has expired.
What was said about the habit of rapidity applies here in full
force. At the end, let the class be dismissed as promptly as it
RIGIDNESS.--When a lesson, reasonable in kind and length, has
been assigned in the way we have indicated, the teacher should
be satisfied with nothing less than complete work. One of the
most common, and most serious, faults of our teachers is that
they accept such miserably poor work,--they often commend what
should be heartily condemned. If twenty places have been assigned
for a lesson in geography, the recitation of nineteen only is
not good,--nor of twenty even, if the answer comes hesitatingly,
slowly, and uncertainly. Nor, if ten examples in arithmetic constitute
the lesson, should the work be pronounced well done when only
nine are solved, nor when the processes are slovenly or some of
the results in accurate. The immediate evils in such a case are
not the most serious; they are not to be compared with the habit
formed of meeting responsibilities imperfectly, or of being satisfied
with inaccurate work.
THE PUPIL ON HIS FEET.--In reciting, the pupil should stand on
his own feet, both literally and figuratively. The following are
some of the reasons why a pupil should stand to recite: First, He can be heard better; especially is this true if the class
is large. Second, He feels a greater sense responsibility standing; when he is
on his feet he becomes conspicuous,--the onus of the work is thrown
entirely on him. He is likely to make more careful statements,
and to make them with more deliberation. Nor is this a matter
confined to pupils in a class: it accords with a general principle.
A man will often shout out from a crowded audience what he would
not stand forth and say deliberately before the same people. If
the pupil can not answer a question, never suffer him to say carelessly,
"I'd'n'know," from his seat. Make him stand, and say distinctly,
"I do not know." The chances are that he will be more likely to
know the next time. A class of small children may well stand during
the whole recitation. The time should be brief, as we have said,
and the standing will be a relief to them. If the class is large,
or difficult, it is often best for the teacher to stand; in such
a case, he can work more effectively on his feet. Both teacher
and pupils should stand erect, on both feet, without leaning on
any person or thing.
Figuratively , the pupil should be on his own feet,--that is, he should recite
without aid from any source whatever. We are not saying merely
that he should not look in his book, nor be prompted by his fellows;
this is so obvious that we need not mention it. Not unfrequently
teachers themselves guide shrewd pupils entirely through their
recitations without a suspicion that they are doing so. This may
be done by the words that they supply from time to time; but it
may be done without speaking a word. The teacher's nods or smiles
or frowns are often a complete index to the character of the pupil's
work; and it is a curious study to see a shrewd, lazy pupil watch
such a teacher's face, while he feels his way through the recitation
of a subject that he does not half understand. When the teacher
has given the pupil his topic, or asked the question to be answered,
his face should be unmoved as that of the Sphinx till the pupil
has completed his work. An exception may be made, of course, when
the pupils are little children.
Nor should other members of the class make demonstrations to show
whether the one who is reciting is going right or wrong. No raising
of hands should be allowed till the pupil has finished his recitation.
The pupil who raises his hand may be wrong in thinking that a
mistake has been made; in any case, mischief can only result.
If the one reciting is timid, the raising of a classmate's hand,
whether there be reason for it or not, is likely to confuse him;
if he is shrewd and tricky, the raising of a hand the moment he
makes a mistake may enable him to recover himself when he ought
to fail. Often, he knows that one of two answers is correct, but
he is not sure which is right. If raising hands be allowed, you
will see him try one of the answers cautiously, looking slyly
out of the corner of his eye; on the first appearance of a hand
rising, he changes to the other answer in the most prompt and
confident way, and comes off victorious.
When a pupil's recitation is finished, those who have criticisms
may show hands,--only with a class of small children should it
be permitted sooner. When an ill-prepared pupil is floundering
in his work, the teacher is often prompted to help him, from sympathy
or mistaken kindness. But true and wise kindliness will let him
struggle on, or fail even; only in this way can he be taught to
depend upon himself. Sometimes, however, the teacher's laziness
or impatience prompts him to recite for his pupil; it is quicker
and easier for the teacher to make the recitation than to wait
for the pupil to do it.
QUESTIONING.--This is very important part of the teacher's work;
skill here is a very valuable kind of skill. If the text-book
has questions printed in it, it is rarely best to use them; they
may aid the pupil in preparing his lesson, but in recitation other
questions should generally be put. When the question in the book
is used, let it be changed in form; if, for instance, the question
is, "What cape [is] at the southern extremity of South America?"
put it in this way: "Where is Cape Horn?" Leading questions should
not be asked,--that is, questions which by their form indicate
what answer is expected. The lesson must be so conducted that
the pupil shall do his own thinking.
In a good recitation, the pupil does much the larger part of the
talking. He should be required to use good language in his answers;
but it should generally be other language than that of the book.
The contrary course is likely to result in "parrot" recitation,
to a greater or less degree. If the pupil makes a mistake in his
language, it is generally best to let him finish his statement
before calling on him to correct his language; but the teacher
must be very careful not to let the mistake pass uncorrected.
If, however, the mistake is one that the same pupil makes habitually,
he should be stopped instantly, on every occasion, until the habit
is broken up.
Questions calling for a general answer form all the class must
be used sparingly and cautiously. When a class is timid or dull,
such questions may be of use,-so, also, when "drilling" is the
purpose. But for the purpose of "testing," they are wholly untrustworthy;
the lazy pupil who knows nothing of the lesson adds his voice
to the general sound, and so covers up his delinquency. But, even
when he has no intention to deceive, his unprepared condition
may be hidden form his own mind till he is called on to make a
full statement individually.
Order.-- The order in which the questions shall be given to the class
is a very important matter. If they are passed around the class
in the same invariable order, it will happen, sometimes, that
shrewd and lazy pupils will prepare to answer no question but
those that will fall on their "turn." But the most honest pupil
is likely to let his attention wander when he has answered his
question, and knows that some time will elapse before he will
again be called on. When this order is followed, the person whose
turn it is to answer will usually be the only one who is reciting
at the moment, whereas all the class should be reciting, --one
orally, the others mentally. It is often well to stop the pupil
who is talking, in the midst of a sentence, and require some other
pupil to begin exactly where the first left off. If it is understood
that this is likely to be done at any moment, probably all the
class will follow the recitation closely.
In order to avoid the routine in questioning that we have criticized,
it is well for the teacher to propound his question, and then
ask at random for some one to answer it. But he must be very careful,
when he "skips around" his class in this way, that he does not
neglect any of the members. He will be tempted to call on the
bright and ready pupils most frequently, but he must remember
that the other pupils need most the discipline that will be gained
Some teachers are in the habit of inviting the pupils who can
answer a question to indicate that fact by raising their hands.
This is very well when the teacher is developing a subject; but,
when the class are reciting a lesson on which they are supposed
to be prepared, it is wholly wrong. It should be understood that
the teacher expects every one to be prepared.
On reviews or examinations, it is well to assign the questions
or topics in some way by lot. The teacher who has been with a
class a term, generally knows whether any pupil can answer any
given question; so it follows that, if he distribute the questions
as he chooses, he will either put them to such pupils as he know
to be able to answer them, or he must deliberately lead some one
to fail by giving him a question that he knows he can not answer.
But, if he distribute the questions by lot, he relieves himself
of all responsibility, and can not be charged with unfairness,
whatever may be the result. If pupils know that they will be examined
in this way, they are more likely to be careful to prepare on
all the questions or topics pertaining to the subject in hand.
--By this we do not mean the explanations and additional information
already spoken of, but rather something entirely apart from the
text-book,--the developing before the class, or the school, of
a subject not yet studied by the pupils in any book. Considerable
work of this kind should be done in every school; this will be
apparent, if we think for a moment how many topics there are on
which pupils ought to be instructed, but which are not treated
of directly in any of their set lessons. A few suggestions will
be given in respect to work of this sort.
NOT TOO MUCH MATTER.--Most teachers who attempt oral lessons undertake
to give too much at a time. They are likely to forget that minds,
especially for children, can not grasp and master a great deal
of new matter at once. A teacher is especially liable to err in
this way when he presents a subject with which he is very familiar.
He forgets that what seems so easy to him may be very difficult
when presented for the first time. Here we might repeat what was
said about looking at lessons from the pupil's "point of view."
WELL MAPPED OUT.--The teacher who is to give an oral lesson should
go before his class with the matter clearly mapped out in his
own mind, and perhaps drawn out in writing, in the form of a scheme.
He should have clearly determined what points he proposes to reach,
and in what order they should be reached. In proper oral teaching,
there must be a free conference between teacher and pupils,--questions
must be asked and answers be given by both parties. Of course,
one can not determine beforehand what the entire conversation
will be, as we find it laid down in some Manuals on "Oral Teaching"
and "Object Lessons." An attempt to make the conversation conform
strictly to some prescribed pattern will make an oral lesson more
mechanical, dull, and unproductive than the most formal recitation
of lessons memorized from a tolerable text-book. But the landmarks
of the lesson, the points to be reached, may be settled before
hand, as well as the exact and clear language in which to state
the conclusions when they shall have been found.
REACH THE POINTS.--As the conversation must be a free one, if
the teacher is not cautious he may find some side question suggested
that will draw him off from his line of though to such an extent
that he will not put the points he intended before his class.
It requires some thought and skill in the teacher to treat such
side issues in a reasonable and intelligent way, and still to
withstand their tendency to "switch him off his track."
SEE THAT THEY ARE UNDERSTOOD.--The teacher may have reached his
points in his own mind, and may have put his conclusions before
his class; but he should not dismiss the subject tell he has ascertained
that he has been correctly understood.
A story will illustrate the danger against which we are warning.
A Sunday-school teacher undertook to explain the meaning of faith
to his class in this way: He called their attention to a boat
floating on the river, in full view from the window. He said,
"Boys, do you see the boat?" "Yes, sir." "Can you see the bottom
of the boat?" "No, sir." "Do you know what is on the bottom of
the boat?" "No, sir." "If I should tell you that there is a leg
of mutton in the boat, would your believe it?" "Yes, sir." "Could
you see it?" "No, sir." But you would believe it is there?" "Yes,
sir." "Well," said he, "that would be faith." Like a good teacher,
on the next Sunday he brought up the review before going forward
with the new lesson. "Boys," said he, "who can tell me what faith
is, this morning?" Many hands were raised. "Johnny, you may tell."
"A leg of mutton in a boat, sir."
CALL AGAIN FOR WHAT IS GIVEN.--In oral lessons, as everywhere
else, the good teacher will impress it on his pupils that they
must be responsible for reproducing what has been given them.
Failures in this regard are very common; probably more than half
of all that is put before students orally, from the lectures in
the college and the professional school down to the object lessons
in the primary school, is wholly lost, because the pupil does
not expect to be made responsible for it. A good teacher of children
and youth always reaps where he sows; and his pupils are lead
to know that such will be the case before they have been with
him a very long time.
TEACHING PARTICULAR SUBJECTS.
THIS is not a book of methods. We shall not enter extensively
into the modes of teaching the ordinary studies of the school;
but we shall merely attempt to point out some of the aims to be
kept in view, and some of the principle that should guide the
--This subject should claim our attention first, as reading is
the key to all the rest; nor is it the key to school-room studies
alone, but to all the vast stores of knowledge that wise men have
embalmed in books. Moreover, oral reading, when its quality is
good, is a means of enjoyment to others, and of high aesthetic
culture, like music, painting, and sculpture. What, then, is reading?
DEFINITIONS.--F. W. Parker says, "Reading is getting thought by
means of written or printed words arranged in sentences." "Oral
reading is the vocal expression of thought that is gained by written
or printed words." As an amendment to these excellent statements,
we suggest that feeling or emotion, as well as thought, may be,
and generally should be, derived from written or printed language,
and it should be expressed in oral reading.
Reading is Talking from a Book. --We offer this as a good, short definition of oral reading.
Mere calling of words, however correctly done, is not reading.
But when the reader, having gained from the written or printed
word the thought and feeling there expressed, delivers that thought
and feeling just as he would had they originated in his own mind,
he is reading. Hence, oral reading implies two things: 1st, The
power to gain from the written or printed page the thought and
feeling expressed there; 2d, The power of so delivering the words
orally that the same though and feeling shall be awakened in the
PRIMARY TEACHING.--In teaching reading, as in teaching any thing
else, the work will not be rightly done unless we begin with the
learner's present stock of knowledge and his present power to
do, and go on systematically from that starting place. What, then,
is the status of the ordinary child as he enters school for the
first time? He has already gained much knowledge through his senses.
He has learned a great number of words, and he has learned to
combine them properly in sentences. If he has heard nothing but
correct speech, he may be able to talk elegantly. He has learned
to express his ideas and thoughts and feelings with a wonderful
propriety of pitch, tone, emphasis, and inflection. How often
a roomful of grown people are moved to smile by the naturalness
of a child's expression when he talks out of his own thought and
Evidently, then, the first work of a child in learning to read
is to learn to translate the written or printed signs,--to associate
the symbols that appeal to the eye with the words that appeal
to the ear. Whatever aids in this work of association is helpful,--any
thing else is a hindrance.
How is it best to begin this work? Negatively, not by teaching
the alphabet; these letters have no connection with any thing
in the child's mind. Not by the immediate use of books, or cards,
or charts; an introductory work should prepare for the use of
A METHOD.--Take a real object with which the child is familiar,
and in which he is interested; it may be a cat, or dog, etc. Have
the object itself, a toy representation of it, or a picture of
it,--or all of them,--actually present. Talk with the child about
the object; get him to talk about it. Call his attention to the
spoken word that represents the object; with this he is already
familiar. Put now the corresponding word on the blackboard in
neat script. Point to the word, and let him point to the object,
naming it at the same time. Let him attempt to reproduce the word
on his slate. Introduce every variety of exercise that your ingenuity
will suggest, to make the form of the word familiar to him, and
to strengthen the association between the written symbol and the
Proceed in this way, very slowly, day by day, until he has learned
the written words corresponding to the names of five or six familiar
objects. Next, give him a few familiar verbs, like run, sit, pat,
sleep, etc., in a similar way, letting him perform the action
indicated in response to the written word. You are now prepared
to put short and familiar sentences on the board, using the nouns
and verbs already learned, and letting the child learn the articles,
prepositions, and connectives by sight, as they are needed. Impress
upon the child the thought that you are "talking with your chalk
or pencil." Let him read the sentences you write, and perform
the acts any of the sentences indicate.
Do not Read the Sentences for Him. -- If your work is slowly and carefully done, he will read correctly
out of his own thought and imagination: this is a real reading.
If you read the sentence for him, he will imitate your spoken
words, perhaps with no conception whatever of their meaning. This
will lead at once to the parrot-like imitation that so often passes
for genuine reading, even with the professional elocutionist.
Several weeks or months should be given to this work, and not
more than forty or fifty words should be attempted in the time.
The pupil should write the words he learns, on his slate,--at
first singly, then combined into sentences containing them, and
has learned to make them on his slate, he may be taught the printed
equivalents for his script. Let the teacher first print the words
neatly beside the same in script.
There is no need for the child to print.
Now the child is ready for his books and charts; but he must not
be asked to learn new words too rapidly.
ANALYSIS.--During all this time, no attempt has been made to teach
the child his letters,--that is, to analyze the written words.
Nor has be been taught to analyze the spoken words. Now, perhaps
the time has come for both. He really knows his letters; but he
has not learned to distinguish them, nor to call them by name.
But, if the previous work has been done well, he can very soon
do both. Nor should he omit to learn the order of the letters
in the alphabet.
He may be taught the analysis of the spoken words, also, at about
the same time. He knows the elementary sounds, and he can make
them with more or less success; but he has not learned to distinguish
them. The teacher may lead him to do this by "slow pronunciation."
As a single example, let the teacher say: "P-u-t o-n th-e c-a-p,"
requiring the pupil to suit the action to the word. [Do not name these letters; give the sounds. ] When the pupil has learned to distinguish the separate sounds,
he may then be taught to make them. He is now ready to begin the
arduous task of learning to associate the elements of the written
and spoken words,--that is, the phonic elements with the letters
that represent them.
Do not Speak of the "Sounds of the Letters. "--Letters have no sounds. Letters represent sounds which were
made and recognized long before letters were invented.
The method of teaching primary reading outlined above is no mere
theory; it is essentially the one used by our most progressive
and successful teachers. Of course, the details will vary indefinitely.
ADVANCED READING.--The teaching of reading to advanced pupil will
vary greatly in mode from the teaching of primary reading, but
the same principles should guide the work. True oral reading proceeds
from within, outward,--never in the reverse order. First, there
must be a mastery, and an appropriation, of the thought and feeling;
then, there must be a proper expression of the same. All formal
rules are as futile for direction in reading as they are n speech;
all marking of emphases, of inflections, and of the quality of
the voice, pitch, etc., is sure to hamper the reader who attempts
to follow such marks in reading.
Directions as to the length of pause or kind of inflection at
the marks of punctuation, are absurd.
The rules of syntax serve an admirable purpose, no doubt, but
he who attempts to think of them as he speaks will make a poor
speaker. The same may be said about the "Rules for Reading."
Proper drill in the use of the vocal organs, exercises in pitch,
power, emphasis, inflection, quality of tone, etc., will serve
a very useful purpose as drill simply, or as preparatory work.
But, when one "reads orally," he should first master the thought
and feeling of his author; then, with no consciousness but of
that thought and feeling, give forth the true expression. If one
be taught, from the beginning, to read in the way we have indicated,
he will never be content to read, like Hamlet, "Words, words,
words," when he grows older.
Furthermore if he has learned to get the meaning from the printed
page, if he is accustomed from the beginning to have his inner
nature stirred by what he reads, he is not likely either to give
up reading, or to develop a fondness for the vapid, worthless
literature that appeals to the weak only. We think that a correct
teaching of reading has much to do in solving the question of
the appreciation and love to good literature.
--We have recommended that the pupil begin to write as soon as
he begins to read. We believe this agrees with the laws of the
child's nature. In order to write a word, he needs to study its
form, and then to train his muscles to imitate that form with
chalk or pencil. His perceptive powers are keen; why may he not
sue them in studying the forms of words as well as in any other
way? His tendency to use his muscles is irrepressible,--they fairly
"ache" to be used; why may they not be used in copying forms of
the words he has studied? Besides, he has a great desire to do
what he sees his teacher do; why not train him to imitate her
production of written words? Furthermore, experience proves that
it is entirely practicable for children to learn to write thus
early. At first, the pupils' attempts will be simply attempts
to imitate without any analysis or description. But, as soon as
they have learned their letters, they will be ready to practice
and to describe the analysis of the letters as taught in any good
system of penmanship.
Let the teacher choose good, but the simplest, forms of the letters
she uses in the words she gives her little pupils to copy. Let
her treat their first efforts very leniently. Let her allow them
a great deal of practice; it will enable them to pass many hours
happily, instead of spending them in the torture of "sitting still."
We would suggest the following rules as important to be observed
by the teacher:
First. --Select the simplest forms for the letters, and teach but one
form for each.
Second. --Put no false forms before the little pupil, and remove in the
quietest and quickest way such false forms as he may make.
Third. --Proceed slowly and insist upon very careful work; fully recognize
and encourage all effort, and give reasonable success its full
meed [sic] of praise.
It is very desirable that the pupil early acquire the power to
write in order that he may practice "talking with the pencil,"
as well as understood what others say with the pencil. In this
way, he will grow into the habit of "composition" as naturally
and as easily as he becomes accustomed to hear and to use the
forms of oral speech. There is one great advantage in the child's
expressing himself by writing over expression by speech alone,
he is more likely to show his individuality; the tendency is less
strong to imitate merely.
--Of course, in merely copying the forms of words the pupil begins
his work in spelling, even though he may not yet have learned
to distinguish the letters. When he comes to make such distinction,
he is studying spelling more effectively. And his is studying
it in the only way that is practical,--that is, as he has occasion
to use it. He learns to spell each word when he learns the word;
he gets the correct picture of it in his mind, and he learns to
make that picture. Moreover, he learns the form of the word in
connection with its meaning; this is the only reasonable way.
There is no occasion for the absurd practice of spelling lists
of abstract words.
By this method, the child forms the habit of looking at words
in their parts,--of taking cognizance of the letters that make
up a written word at the time he learns the word. Why is not his
sight as truly trained in analyzing a word as in analyzing a flower?
If the plan of learning to spell every word as the word is acquired
is kept up in all the pupil's course, as it ought to be, he will
be able to spell all the words in his vocabulary; he has no occasion
to spell any others. The problem of learning to spell is solved,
and it is solved in the right way.
There is no use for the spelling-book.
By the process of primary teaching that we have recommended, the
pupil is learning to read, to write, and to spell at the same
time; this is right, and one process will help the others. Yet
it will be observed that reading is emphasized first, then writing,
then spelling; this, we think, is the right order. And the simplest
uses of capitals and punctuation marks may also be taught at the
OLDER PUPILS.--The teacher who has to deal with pupils whose primary
education has been different will find need for exercises in spelling.
But the most profitable work will still be done by writing. Let
the word to be spelled be pronounced clearly and correctly, and
but once. Let the writing be with ink, and allow no changes nor
erasures. Let the work be carefully corrected, and the missed
words be re-written properly.
Oral spelling is of but little value.
As a rule, the spelling of words in English must be learned individually.
Something may be gained by grouping in families, by studying prefixes
and suffixes, and by forming derivatives. When one is able to
study the etymology of words, that may help his spelling; for
instance, one is not likely to misspell exhilarate , if he remembers its connection with hilarity ; or exonerate , if he connects it with onerous .
There are very few rules for spelling that are of any practical
value. We know of none except these three:
First. --Final silent e is omitted on taking a suffix beginning with
Second. --Final y, preceded by a consonant, is changed to i on taking
any suffix which does not begin with i.
Third. --Monosyllables and words accented on the last syllable, ending
in a single consonant preceded by a single vowel, double the final
consonant on taking a suffix beginning with a vowel.
The exceptions to these rules are very few, although every one
of them has some exceptions; these exceptions should be very carefully
--Reading and writing are modes of expression; and drawing, in
its elements, should be taught to children as a mode of expression
also. Its relation to art may properly be ignored in ordinary
classes of beginners. The wish to draw, to "make" something, is
almost universal with children. Many of us can remember when it
was a crime in school to indulge in this propensity. A better
day has dawned, and children are now allowed to beguile many a
weary hour with slate and pencil. A little care, encouragement,
and instruction from a wise teacher can develop this taste in
children into an efficient and pleasing mode of expression. Lead
the children to draw simple forms, help then to see the characteristic
lines and to reproduce them; encourage effort, recognize any real
success, and insist upon slow and careful work.
This, too, is a mode of expression in which most children take
delight. Unlike the others, it is primarily an expression of the
feelings. Care should be taken that the little songs shall be
simple, but that they shall not be nonsense. The children should
learn them by rote at first, and should be taught to sing them
with correct expression. Do not suffer them to shout nor scream
in their singing. Encourage a clear delivery of the words.
It has been found that children can learn simple musical notation
very early; but it is not our purpose to speak of that in this
TEACHING PARTICULAR SUBJECTS.--Concluded .
--Many text-books on grammar contain this sentence: "English grammar
teaches us to speak and to write the English language correctly."
It is certain that as grammar is commonly studied this is not
true. Many who are most expert in the processes of analysis and
parsing are exceedingly clumsy and inaccurate in their use of
the English language. The distinction between practical language
lessons and the study of technical grammar is a very obvious one,
and the teacher can not afford to ignore it, nor to lose sight
LANGUAGE LESSONS.--The child learns to talk correctly by talking
correctly. If he hears nothing but good language, he acquires
the habit of using good language unconsciously. But the great
trouble is, that few or no children hear none but correct speech.
Hence, the teacher needs to exert himself to correct the evil
effects of incorrect language heard by the child at home, in the
playground, on the streets, etc. Lessons in language are the first
to be given in school; training in the awakening of thought and
in the art of expressing thought is the chief work of the primary
teacher. Nor should the training in the art of expression be relinquished
or relaxed during the whole period of pupilage. This is not the
place to point out methods of doing this work,--we simply insist
on the absolute importance of it. One who inquires earnestly how
to do it will find many helpful books in the market, but his success
will depend mainly upon two things: First, The correctness of his own speech; Second, His ingenuity in devising ways of leading his pupils into habits
of expressive and correct language.
TECHNICAL GRAMMAR.--The successful pursuit of this study demands
a good degree of maturity of mind, and a previous training in
the processes of reflection and analysis. Hence, this should be
one of the last studies to be taken up in a country school. In
our graded schools, it should be deferred until the pupil is nearly
ready for the High School,--if, indeed, it should be undertaken
at all before the pupil enters the High School.
When the study is undertaken, the pupil should be led to an acquaintance
with the laws of English speech by an inductive study of the English
language itself. As in any other inductive study, a good text-book
may aid; but it must be a text-book made from a study of the English
tongue, not a Latin Grammar reconstructed to fit the English language.
When the study is properly pursued by pupils who are prepared
for it by age and previous training, few studies, if any, will
surpass grammar in interest or profit.
The first thing to be said about arithmetic is that it takes much
too large a proportion of the time in a majority of our schools.
Yet, while this is true, very few pupils become really accurate
and expert in the practice of arithmetic. We think there are several
reasons for this, some of which will be given.
Sufficient care is not taken to teach the pupil numbers in themselves,--he
is hurried too soon into notation, and a manipulation of abstract
symbols. [F.W.Parker writes, "Discriminate very sharply between learning
number and learning the language of number. The former must precede
the latter. If I am any judge of results, nine tenths of the teaching
of arithmetic consists in teaching figures alone, with little
or no regard to numbers." -- this is a footnote ] He is not drilled upon the fundamental processes until he thoroughly
masters them. The subject is made too complicated; operations
involving the same principles and essentially the same processes
are treated as though there were no likeness between them. The
multiplication of "rules" and "cases" is needless, confusing,
and discouraging. Not enough practice is given in examples from
real life, such as the pupil does not find classified and arranged
under their respective "rules." Usually, the pupil has the "answer"
before him, and works to obtain the figures which express the
answer, instead of solving his problem in a practical and independent
manner. Fully one third of the text-book is usually made up of
matter wholly irrelevant, consisting either of preposterous puzzles
or of work that is special and technical. Why should the special
work of the banker, the custom-house officer, etc., enter into
the general course of instruction in arithmetic? If the pupil
thoroughly master the principles, and become quick and accurate
in calculation, the work of the common school is done; the special
applications of these principles may well be deferred till he
enters the bank or the counting-room.
PRIMARY WORK.--The first steps in arithmetic should lead the pupil
to a full and thorough knowledge of a few of the smallest numbers.
A child may be able to count to ten, who does not know ten. He
does not know ten till he knows thoroughly all the numbers that
will make ten, and can put together all possible unequal numbers
to make ten, as well as all equal numbers that will give the same
result. He must know also all the ways in which ten can be destroyed,
either by taking away unequal numbers, or by withdrawing equal
In all this elementary work, he must deal with objects, not with
abstractions. Let him count objects, always putting four things
together when he says "four" in his counting, etc. Often the child's
counting is a mere saying of empty words; when his "three" is
not an empty word, it often means only the third instead of an
aggregate of three ones. It is thought by many experienced teachers
that a child does well if he really learns the first ten numbers
in one year. But, whatever time it may take, his first business
should be to learn these numbers thoroughly; he is not ready for
notation, nor for any use of figures beyond a simple writing of
these numbers, until this work is done.
WRITTEN WORK.--When the pupil passes on to written work in arithmetic,
he should be shown that the chief use of figures is to enable
him to make computations with numbers too large for him to grasp
mentally,--the thought necessary to lead to a correct process
is just the same as in the case of small numbers, where no figures
are used. There is no reason for the wide distinction between
"mental" and "written" arithmetic.
In beginning the use of figures in computation, let the child
first master the process thoroughly; the reasons for "carrying,"
for "inverting the divisor," etc., may come later,--first, how ; then, why . A very thorough drill on the simple operations, the "ground
rules," should be given; slow progress here, if sure, is true
haste. The pupil should not only learn his multiplication table
completely, but he should learn the prime factors of all numbers
as high as one hundred, and he should learn the squares as far
as the square of twenty-five at least. Usually, the subject of
factors and factoring is passed over quite too slightly.
He should be encouraged to use short methods whenever it is possible,
and he should be taught to be on the lookout for opportunities
to use them. The distinct principles of arithmetic are very few,
and the pupil should be led to see what operations rest on the
same principle, once for all; and then he should be held to recognize
that principle in all cases to which it applies. He should be
taught to be satisfied with nothing short of accuracy; if he has
made a mistake in his work, that work should not be erased till
the mistake has been found and corrected. He should be taught
to avoid frequent changes in his work; let him put his figures
down with the thought that they are not to be changed, but are
to stand as first written. It may be well to forbid him to use
an eraser in any case without special permission. None but neat
work should ever be accepted by the teacher.
The study of algebra in our common schools should aim chiefly
to throw light on the principles and processes of arithmetic,
and to train the pupils' power of abstraction and reasoning. It
is not of much consequence to find the length of a pole that is
partly in the mud, partly in the water, and partly in the air!
The first business in learning algebra is to master the notation;
every algebraic term is a word or phrase in algebraic language,--the
equation is the sentence. Finding an equation for a problem is
translating that problem from common language into the language
Great care must be taken that technical terms do not obscure thought;
the pupil should be asked to give and to illustrate their meaning
very frequently. It is often well to forbid the use of technical
terms for a time; let the pupil describe his operations on an
equation without once saying "transpose," "change signs," "collect
terms," etc. The pupil should often be required to translate formulas
into rules, and rules into formulas; in short, he should be led
to see that, in elementary algebra, he is simply using a briefer
and more general language than he has found in his arithmetic.
Dr. Thomas Hill, in his "True Order of Studies," shows that the
study of form may well come before algebra, or primary arithmetic
even,--it is a study for young children. This is not properly
a study of geometry, but it is an excellent preparation for that
study. In the early steps in geometry, great care must be taken
that the pupil does not fail to see the relation of what he is
now studying to the things that have claimed his thought and attention
previously. As in algebra, he must not allow his thought to be
clouded by technicalities. It is generally best to forbid the
used of the same letters in the same places on the figures used
in the class demonstration that were found in the text-book. It
is well, also, to encourage the pupil to draw his figure in as
many forms as he can, only taking care that they conform to the
hypothesis as given.
Few studies, if any, will do more to develop the mind of the pupil
than will geometry when it is properly taught, and the teaching
of this subject might well occupy much time that is frittered
away over the puzzles in the back part of our "higher" arithmetics.
No other study, except reading, can be made more interesting to
the child, or can be made to lead out the thoughts in all directions
more successfully than geography. And yet, as it is often taught,
no other study is so dry or profitless. The trouble is that is
made a mere memorizing of words, or at best an attempt to stuff
the memory with a multitude of unrelated, often unimportant, facts.
In no study, perhaps, is the principle that we should begin with
the child where we find him, more grossly violated than in geography.
What has the first part of most Primary Geographies to do with
any thing the child has ever seen, heard, or dreamed of? When
he comes to a map, what is done to enable him to put any real
meaning into the queer conglomeration of form and color? The result
is that he learns words about a world he never saw, and he hunts
out names on a map that means nothing beyond the thing itself.
He shuts up his book and map, leaves them in his desk, and goes
out into the real world hardly thinking that what he now meets
has any connection with what he has left.
PRIMARY WORK.--A certain amount of preliminary work should be
done in the primary classes, to prepare the pupil for the study
of geography,--copious and thorough exercises in learning direction,
distance, and relative position are what we mean. Then, he needs
to learn the language by which these things are expressed in maps
and charts. Let the teacher, with his little pupils, make a survey
of the school-room, observing the directions, distances, and relative
positions of the parts of the room and the objects in it. Then,
let the teacher make a plan or map of the school-room on the blackboard,
properly representing all these things.
It is well to make this map on the north side of the room.
This map may be made the key to the reading of all maps; it is
a symbol to the pupil of something he has seen; and through it
he may learn how to get knowledge of what he can not see by the
use of similar symbols. A map of the school-room should be followed
by a map of the school-yard, then by one of the neighborhood or
Other things in the neighborhood should now be studied: the familiar
brook must be made the type of rivers; the hill, of the mountains;
the plain, of the prairies, etc. The business of the neighborhood
must be made the medium for understanding the occupations of men
the world over. The political, social, and religious affairs of
the village or town must be made the key to the politics, religion
and social life of the nations.
When this stock of knowledge of his immediate surroundings is
made conscious and systematic to the child, then he is prepared
to enter on the study of geography.
The usual progress of the child is from the whole to parts, and
now he is prepared for some lessons upon the earth as a whole.
Here a globe is of prime value; only, care must be taken that
the pupil regard the globe as a symbol,--his thought must not
be allowed to stop with the globe itself. Suppose the teacher
has no globe? Use a foot-ball or a pumpkin; an ingenious teacher
can always find means of illustration. Make no attempt at this
stage of the work to teach mathematical geography.
When the pupil has done the preliminary work, and has some knowledge
of the earth as a body, he may then enter upon the study of the
countries of the world; he should begin with his own. The map
should be made on the basis of his study,--and the map should
be transferred, as it were, from the paper to the mind; to do
this, study the map, and draw it. Map drawing should be a prominent
part of geographical work from beginning to end.
Let the earth's surface receive attention now; modeling in clay
will be helpful in learning about the surface. Do not attempt
too great minuteness in the maps nor in description; select only
a few things to be learned, and those the most important, and
teach them thoroughly. Enrich the study by pictures, anecdotes,
stories of travel, imaginary journeys, etc. Appeal to the imagination
in all ways. All true geographical knowledge lies in the mind
in a series of pictures. And the teacher who succeeds in setting
the imagination of his pupils in geography to working actively
and judiciously, will find no lack of interest or progress.
This study is very closely related to geography. There is the
same necessity for choosing wisely out of the multitude of facts
that might be learned; there is the same call for the imagination
to work. Geography may be made more interesting by teaching something
of history with it; and the study of geography must be kept up
in history; map drawing is just as important here as there. Historical
study for quite young children must be mostly in the form of biography.
In higher classes in history, some dates must be learned; let
them be few and well-chosen, and let them be learned thoroughly.
Let the study of history deal much with the every-day lives of
men, and as little as may be with their wars and fightings.
But little, if any thing, can be done in the study of natural
science in our common schools. But, if the senses are properly
trained, if plants and animals are studied, if geography is properly
taught, if the pupils are trained and encouraged to make and arrange
collections, a sure foundation will be laid for studying these
subjects in the right way when time and opportunity shall serve.
--It depends primarily upon the community whether our public schools
shall be what they ought to be or not. With us, no "paternal"
government can reach down and make the schools greatly different
from what the people desire. The people determine how much money
shall be spent for schools; and, throught the officers whom they
choose, they determine what pay the teacher shall receive, and
what shall be the general character of the work done in the schools.
Where the people are awake and intelligent in school affairs,
it can rarely fail that good schools will be found. Where the
people have little interest, or mistake in their notions of what
constitutes a good school, there can hardly be a good school except
by a kind of accident.
It is certain that, in many places, the people are not as earnest
as they should be to have their children well taught, nor have
they the knowledge that they ought to have as to what constitutes
good teaching. Much is done to fit teachers for their work, to
improve text-books and apparatus, to build good school-houses,
etc., while little seems to be done to disseminate a more correct
knowledge respecting education among the people, or to arouse
them to demand better work in the school-room.
The Teacher's Relations.--
Our purpose, however, is to speak chiefly of the relations of
the teacher to the community.
TO SCHOOL OFFICERS.--The teacher should understand and fully recognize
his relations to the school officers by whom he is employed, and
under whom he works. He must admit that the law make them his
superiors, and gives the power of ultimate control into their
hands. They may be ignorant, prejudiced, or overbearing; but,
if he is wise, the teacher will enter into no controversy with
them. If he can not come to such an understanding with them as
shall permit him to go forward peaceably in such a performance
of his duties as his judgment dictates, he would better close
his connection with them, and seek another field.
Usually, however, if a teacher really understands his business,
and if his character is such as to command the respect of others,
he can secure harmony and co-operation form his school officers
by such a combination of suavity, firmness, and good sense as
would give success in other relations with men. At any rate, no
school can be expected to be very prosperous without harmony and
co-operation between the teacher and the school authorities.
TO PARENTS.--There is much truth in the saying that the teacher
is in loco parentis, --in place of the parent. The work of the school is supplementary
to the work of the home; the school is not a substitute for the
home. Teachers sometimes assume that the whole work of education
is in their hands; on the other hand, they are sometimes held
responsible for the whole work of the mental and moral training
of the children. This is a grave mistake; the teacher can only
enter into the parents' labors at best, and he should be held
responsible only for the part of the work that fairly belongs
The work of the parent and teacher is one. From this, it follows
that the closest understanding and harmony between parent and
teacher is of the greatest importance. The teacher should be active
in bringing about this harmony.
First, By visiting the parents, not merely as a teacher, but socially
as a friend. On the occasion of such visits, it may be proper
for him to talk of the condition of the school, of his plans for
its improvement, and of the condition and progress of the pupils
from the family he is visiting. Such statements as he makes on
these subjects should be frank and truthful. But his influence
will be greatly strengthened if he can converse on other matters
of interest besides the school. It is no compliment to teachers
that so many people feel that they must introduce school topics
when they meet teachers in a social way. But it is to be feared
that the habit has grown up because so many teachers have been
found unable to talk intelligently about anything else.
Second, The teacher should be able to induce the parents to visit the
school and to observe its operations. Sometimes a cordial invitation
will be all that is necessary. But, if a simple invitation does
not accomplish the result, other ways can be found. One of the
simplest is to set apart a special time,--say Friday afternoon,
--for some kind of an exhibition. No attempt should be made to
turn the school into a small theater; let the programme consist
largely of readings, compositions, and such other exercises as
are proper to the regular work of the school. But let the exercises
be carefully chosen, well prepared, and of a sufficient variety
to bring out most or all of the pupils. The child who is to have
a part in an exercise on such an occasion is very likely to issue
an invitation that will bring the mother at least. And the exercises
may be so conducted as to exhibit very effectually the spirit,
methods, and general progress of the school.
TO THE PEOPLE.--The teacher, especially in a country district,
should be a person of influence in the community. It has been
suggested that the people often need instruction in matters pertaining
to education. Who should be more competent for this than the teacher?
Let him be careful, however, that he does not attempt it in any
On the occasion of such a school exhibition as we have recommended,
a short talk or paper from the teacher may do much; or he may
get the people to meet for a discussion of educational topics
in the long winter evenings. Such meetings might be quite informal,
and they might include several features of a literary and social
kind. Skill in the teacher to inaugurate and assist in such gatherings
will do much to increase his influence, as well as to benefit
Let him write for the county or village paper. If his articles
are thoughtful, and are well prepared, editors will gladly give
them a place, and they will be eagerly read. The newspaper is
one of the most potent factors in shaping the thought of a community.
We have hinted at one of the ways in which a teacher may do something
for the intellectual improvement of the people among whom he labors.
He may assist in other improvements, also, such as the founding
and promoting of libraries, lecture courses, etc. Nor should he
be backward in regard to physical improvements that will tend
to beautify a village or a district,--such as planting trees,
etc. A wide-awake, intelligent, active teacher may leave a lasting
monument to his memory, in the neighborhood where he works, by
such means as these. Nor should he be ignorant or indifferent
about the business affairs which are so essential to the material
prosperity of the community. Nothing will raise him more in the
estimation of practical men than to find that he has an intelligent
interest in business affairs. At the same time, it will save him
from shriveling up into a "mere pedagogue."
Neither should he be a cipher in religious and political matters.
Not that he should be a noisy partisan; but it will generally
be found that a teacher who has convictions on such subjects,
and who takes a manly stand according to his convictions, will
receive more respect, even from those not of his sect or party,
than one who is indifferent, or who attempts to identify himself
with all parties. The teacher should be a Christian and a patriot;
but most Christians find it best to identify themselves with some
denomination, and most patriots belong to some political party.
There is no good reason why the teacher should be an exception.
In short, the teacher should be a man among men,--intelligent,
earnest, and active in the things that claim the attention of
other good and influential men. What is said here, with some necessary
changes, will apply just as well to the teacher who is a woman
as to a man.
The "New" Education.--
Of late, it has become common to hear, or to read, the phrase
"new education." What does it mean? Strictly speaking, there can
be no such thing as a new education. Education is the same thing
in all the ages; its principles are unchanging; and its methods
must conform to these principles, if they are right methods, however
they may vary in form.
The most marked feature of what is called the new education is
in regard to the principles of child-nature. It insists that the
teacher shall study the nature, the capacity, and the tendencies
of the child, and shall adapt the work of instruction accordingly,
instead of giving all attention to the subject matter to be taught,
or attempting to teach according to preconceived notions of what
the child needs and can do. This is what Garfield meant when he
said, "The teacher should study the boy more than the book."
Another principle of the "new" education is that it seeks to make
the acquisition of knowledge, and all the work of the school,
agreeable to the pupil. The human mind naturally craves knowledge,
and its acquisition gives the highest pleasure, but it must be
real knowledge,--not its semblance, symbols, or husks. It is believed
that the work of the school may be so conducted that the pupil
may realize at all times that his store of knowledge is increasing,
that his powers are strengthening, and that he may rejoice and
be glad in his growth. This is a worthy aim, and the teacher can
hardly regard it too highly.
Yet, it may be doubted whether the giving of pleasure to the pupils
should be made the ultimate or only test in estimating the character
of school work. In life, duty often imposes upon us tasks that
are not wholly agreeable, although their accomplishment may bring
the highest pleasure. It may well be asked whether school should
not train us to meet and to do bravely just such tasks?
It is sometimes asked whether a teacher should join freely in
the sports and games of his pupils? To our mind, the answer is
clearly in the affirmative. Such a course, if judiciously followed,
will benefit the pupil; it may improve the character of his sports;
it may prevent evils that would other-wise infest the playground;
it will cement the bond of union and sympathy between him and
his teacher. It will benefit the teacher by bringing him into
a closer sympathy with his pupils; it will help him into a closer
sympathy with his pupils; it will help him to keep from growing
old before his time; it will give him a better insight into the
personal characteristics of his pupils than any thing else. But
he must join in the sports as an equal; he must not, by the assumption
of a dictatorial manner, make his presence on the playground disagreeable;
furthermore, it is important that he should be able to play well
any game in which he may join. If it be objected that his dignity
will suffer from his joining in the pupils' plays, we have only
to say that a dignity which can not bear the test of the playground
must be of the artificial or false kind. True dignity means genuine
worth shown in a worthy way.
Every school should be supplied with all that is necessary for
the proper work of illustration, but many schools are wofully
[sic] lacking in this regard. And, if nothing can be used as apparatus
but such as is highly finished, and sold in the markets, the cost
is no small drawback to its supply. But an ingenious teacher will
find means to illustrate without being wholly dependent on the
costly apparatus of the shop; kernels of corn, or beans, or pebbles
may take the place of the numeral frame; a pumpkin, of a globe,
etc. A little home-made apparatus may answer nearly all purposes
in physics, also. All such apparatus has one decided advantage,--the
pupil's attention is less likely to be arrested by the apparatus
itself; its use as a means to something beyond itself is less
likely to be hidden. For instance, the pupil is in less danger
of thinking that his combinations of numbers are confined to the
numeral frame, if he learns the same combinations by the use of
Few topics connected with the work of the school have been more
discussed of late than the "marking system." Much has been uttered
in the way of bitter criticism of it. It is not said directly
that schools would be better without any careful record of the
attendance, deportment, and scholarship of the pupils; but that
seems to be a fair inference, if what is charge to the "system"
necessarily belongs to it, and not simply to the abuse of it.
By the marking system, a deliberate record is made of the attendance,
deportment, and recitations of the pupils; it is a record of facts
as they transpire, or of the teacher's judgments made at a time
when there is the latest cause for mistake, --that is, when the
matter is freshest in his mind.
ATTENDANCE.--In respect to attendance, the marking should be simply
a record of facts. The pupil is present or he is absent,-- he
is tardy or he is not. This the marks should show, and this alone.
No account must be taken of any reasons for absence or tardiness,--these
can not affect the facts of his attendance, but may properly affect
his deportment record.
DEPORTMENT.--Here the marks should be a record of the teacher's
opinion concerning the pupil's merits or demerits, made at the
time of the transactions by which his standing is affected. It
is not easy to see how such a record can be an evil, nor how any
thing better can be substituted for it. The teacher will have
an opinion about the pupil's deportment, and the degrees of its
worthiness or unworthiness, and he will sometimes be called on
to express that opinion. How can such an opinion be made up better
than from the average of daily records?
SCHOLARSHIP.--The statements last made will apply with equal force
to the teacher's opinions respecting the scholarship of his pupil.
But it may not always be clear, even in the teacher's mind, exactly
what the scholarship mark should show. Negatively, it can not
show the pupil's disposition towards study; it can not show the
degree of effort he has put forth; it can not show absolutely
how much he may know about the study in question. It should be
simply the written record of the teacher's estimate concerning
the relative success of the pupil's efforts at reciting on the
given topics. We say the teacher's estimate, for we regard "self-reporting"
of either scholarship or deportment as unworthy of serious discussion.
Now, we fail to see the force of the objections urged against
a written record of these things. It is said that marking takes
much time; but this objection is not pertinent, if it is worth
the time it takes. When a pupil recites, the teacher forms some
opinion of his performance as it goes on. Why may not that opinion
be formed on a numerical scale? And how long will it take to write
the figure to express it? It is said that the pupil is led to
work for marks. Is that not better than to have no motive; but
why need it prevent higher motives from operating in cases where
higher motives from operating in cases where higher motives have
any influence? Or, shall we discard all motives by the very noblest?
It is said that the marks are not always just. This is what we
should expect so long as the teachers are fallible. But will the
fallible teacher, in the absence of a daily record, be likely
to reach conclusions that will be more just? It seems to us that
any valid strictures on marking must pertain to the abuse of the
system, or to the inherent weakness of the teacher, rather than
to the system itself.
We shall not try to indicate the best methods of marking; we shall
not discuss the question whether the pupils should be allowed
to see their marks; nor shall we discuss the proper and improper
uses to be made of the marks. But we believe that, if the true
meaning of each kind of marking is kept clearly in view, if the
record is carefully and conscientiously made, the marks will serve
very valuable purposes; and that it is not possible to find any
adequate substitute for them.
We believe it to be very desirable that a school should be opened
by religious exercises when they are genuine, and when they can
be had without controversy. But we should much regret to see them
prescribed by law, quite as much as we should regret to see them
forbidden by law. Most of our states leave the question to be
decided by the local authorities; and, in our opinion, this is
just where it ought to be left. We think, also, that any teacher
who prizes such exercises, and who is allowed to have them, will
make a great mistake if he compel any pupil to take part in them,
or even to be present, against his own will or the expressed will
of his parent or guardian. Religious performances that are forced,
or are merely perfunctory, have no value that we can estimate.
There is some reason to hope that the day is not far distant when
no intelligent person will say, "Oh, any body can teach little
children." We believe the opinion is gaining ground among our
people that the primary schools require the very best teaching
talent, and the most careful preparation, and that successful
teaching in such schools is entitled to receive the highest compensation.
Nowhere else is it more disastrous to attempt to build on a poor
foundation than in education; and nowhere else are the results
of bad work at the foundation more certainly without remedy. In
no other stage of the work can the principles of sound pedagogy
be violated with so great damage. Nowhere else in the work are
the pupils so open to personal influences, and in no other stage
of the work are the teaching influences so exclusively personal.
In the primary schools is the place to lay the foundations of
a sound character, no less than the foundations of a sound intellectual
culture. And people are coming to feel more and more that a sound
character is the great outcome of a good education. On all accounts,
then, the primary schools demand and should receive the most careful
Teaching, a Profession.--
Teaching can never become a profession in the same strict sense
as law or medicine, so long as the majority of our schools are
in session but for a few months in the year, and pay such small
wages to the teacher; nor so long as the oversight of the work
is committed to persons outside of the profession; nor so long
as the majority of teachers follow the employment for a few years
only. But the time may come when the person who makes teaching
a life-work, and who brings to it the talent, energy, and special
preparation which other professions demand, will receive all the
respect and deference that are considered due to the members of
How soon this time shall arrive depends chiefly on teachers themselves,--there
is no conspiracy on the part of the people to keep teachers below
the position to which their worth entitles them. And it is the
solemn duty of every teacher to make his full contribution to
the sum of influences that shall raise teaching to the height
it ought to occupy by virtue of its transcendent importance.
In closing, we will present a few important principles in a compact,
I. GENERAL PRINCIPLES:
- Education is a development; it is, in no sense, a creation.
- Any human power that is under the control of the will can be educated.
- There is only one way of developing any human power; viz., by
wise use, or self-activity.
- Self-activity in education has two phases; viz., First , From without, inward, --receptive and acquisitive; Second , From within, outward, productive and expressive.
- The receptive and the productive phases should go together in
all the work of education.
- Self-control is the proper outcome of education; i.e., self-control
of the hands (the body), of the head (the intellect), of the heart
(the affections, wishes, and purposes).
- It is a general law that desire precedes acquisition.
- Learning, or knowledge, is the mind's food; but food strengthens
only as it is digested and assimilated.
- No progress in education is possible without attention.
- In education, nothing is really ours till it has become habitual
- In all the work of education, the habits that are formed are more
important than the knowledge gained.
- Human powers develop naturally in a certain order, which should
be followed in education.
- The law of correlation holds with intellectual and moral forces
no less than with physical forces; forces may be transferred or
transmuted,--they are never lost.
- A true scheme of education must aim at and include three things;
viz., Knowledge, development, and efficiency.
- A general education, whose object is the making of true manhood
or womanhood, should precede a special education, whose subject
is to fit for some art, trade, or occupation. Or,
- The primary object of education is the perfection of the individual.
- The school is responsible for a part only of the child's education;
the pedagogue is co-worker with the parent, the pulpit, the press,
and the people. In other words, the school, the home, the church,
the printed page, and society,--all take part in the training
of the rising generation.
II. SPECIAL PRINCIPLES:
- The work of education should be suited to the pupil's stage of
- With very young children, train chiefly the senses and the power
- With young children, in all their school exercises, something
should be given them to do.
- With young children, the progress should always be from the known
to the unknown.
- With young children, the concrete should precede the abstract.
- With young children, the particular should precede the general.
- With young children, give always the idea before the word,--the
thing before its symbol.
- Care should be taken not to confound things with their symbols;
the danger of this is greatest with young children, but it is
not confined to them.
- False forms should never be put before young children for correction;
such false forms as they make should be removed as quickly and
as quietly as possible.
- Early youth is the best time to commit things to memory,--to "store
- It is well for youth to commit to memory some good things not
yet fully comprehended.
- Begin where the child is; all attempts to teach little children
will be futile or worse, unless they are adapted to the present
state of the children's mind, as regards both knowledge and strength.
End of text.
An index is included, but is worthless in the present setting.