RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE.
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In consequence of the unexampled religious freedom possessed in this
country, for which it is happily distinguished above all other countries
on the face of the earth, there necessarily results a vast variety of
religious sentiment and action. We can not enjoy the blessings without
the inconveniences of freedom. Where every man is allowed to believe as
he pleases, some will, undoubtedly, believe wrong, and others will be
divided, by embracing views of a subject which are different, though
perhaps equally consistent with truth. Hence we have among us every
shade and every variety of religious opinion, and, in many cases,
contention and strife, resulting from hopeless efforts to produce
uniformity.
A stranger who should come among us would suppose, from the tone of our
religious journals, and from the general aspect of society on the
subject of religion, that the whole community was divided into a
thousand contending sects, who hold nothing in common, and whose sole
objects are the annoyance and destruction of each other. But if we leave
out of view some hundreds, or, if you please, some thousands of
theological controversialists who manage the public discussions, and say
and do all that really comes before the public on this subject, it will
be found that there is vastly more religious truth admitted by common
consent among the people of New England than is generally supposed. This
common ground I shall endeavor briefly to describe; for it is very plain
that the teacher must, in ordinary cases, confine himself to it. By
common consent, however, I do not mean the consent of every body; I mean
that of the great majority of serious, thinking men.
But let us examine first, for a moment, what right any member of the
community has to express and to disseminate his opinions with a view to
the inquiry whether the teacher is really bound to confine himself to
what he can do on this subject with the common consent of his employers.
The various monarchical nations of Europe have been for many years, as
is well known, strongly agitated with questions of politics. It is with
difficulty that public tranquillity is preserved. Every man takes sides.
Now, in this state of things, a wealthy gentleman residing in one of
these countries is opposed to the revolutionary projects so constantly
growing up there, and being, both from principle and feeling, strongly
attached to monarchical government, wishes to bring up his children with
the same feelings which he himself cherishes. He has a right to do so.
No matter if his opinions are wrong. He ought, it will be generally
supposed in this country, to be republican. I suppose him to adopt
opinions which will generally, by my readers, be considered wrong, that
I may bring more distinctly to view the right he has to educate his
children as _he thinks_ it proper that they should be educated. He may
be wrong to _form_ such opinions; but the opinions once formed, he has a
right, with which no human power can justly interfere, to educate his
children in conformity with those opinions. It is alike the law of God
and nature that the father should control, as he alone is responsible,
the education of his child.
Now, under these circumstances, he employs an American mechanic, who is
residing in Paris, to come to his house and teach his children the use
of the lathe. After some time he comes into their little work-shop, and
is astonished to find the lathe standing still, and the boys gathered
round the Republican turner, who is relating to them stories of the
tyranny of kings, the happiness of republicans, and the glory of war.
The parent remonstrates. The mechanic defends himself.
"I am a Republican," he says, "upon principle, and wherever I go I must
exert all the influence in my power to promote free principles, and to
expose the usurpations and the tyranny of kings."
To this the monarchist might very properly reply,
"In your efforts to promote your principles, you are limited, or you
ought to be limited, to modes that are proper and honorable. I employ
you for a distinct and specific purpose, which has nothing to do with
questions of government, and you ought not to allow your love of
republican principles to lead you to take advantage of the position in
which I place you, and interfere with my plans for the political
education of my children."
Now for the parallel case. A member of a Congregational society is
employed to teach a school in a district occupied exclusively by
Friends--a case not uncommon. He is employed there, not as a religious
teacher, but for another specific and well-defined object. It is for the
purpose of teaching the children of that district _reading, writing,_
and _calculation_, and for such other purposes analogous to this as the
law providing for the establishment of district schools contemplated.
Now, when he is placed in such a situation, with such a trust confided
to him, and such duties to discharge, it is not right for him to make
use of the influence which this official station gives him over the
minds of the children committed to his care for the accomplishment of
_any other purposes whatever_ which the parents would disapprove. It
would not be considered right by men of the world to attempt to
accomplish any other purposes in such a case; and are the pure and holy
principles of piety to be extended by methods more exceptionable than
those by which political and party contests are managed?
There is a very great and obvious distinction between the general
influence which the teacher exerts as a member of the community and that
which he can employ in his school-room as teacher. He has unquestionably
a right to exert _upon the community, by such means as he shares in
common with every other citizen_, as much influence as he can command
for the dissemination of his own political, or religious, or scientific
opinions. But the strong ascendency which, in consequence of his
official station, he has obtained over the minds of his pupils, is
sacred. He has no right to use it for any purpose _foreign to the
specific objects_ for which he is employed, unless _by the consent,
expressed or implied_, of those by whom he is intrusted with his charge.
The parents who send their children to him to be taught to read, to
write, and to calculate, may have erroneous views of their duty as
parents in other respects. He _may know_ that their views are erroneous.
They may be taking a, course which the teacher _knows_ is wrong. But he
has not, on this account, a right to step in between the parent and
child, to guide the latter according to his own opinions, and to violate
the wishes and thwart the plans of the former.
God has constituted the relation between the parent and the child, and
according to any view which a rational man can take of this relation,
the parent is alone responsible for the guidance he gives to that mind,
so entirely in his power. He is responsible to God; and where our
opinions in regard to the manner in which any of the duties arising
from the relation are to be performed, differ from his, we have no right
to interfere, without his consent, to rectify what we thus imagine to be
wrong. I know of but one exception which any man whatever would be
inclined to make to this principle, and that is where the parent would,
if left to himself, take such a course as would ultimately make his
children _unsafe members of society._ The _community_ have a right to
interfere in such a case, as they in fact do by requiring every man to
provide for the instruction of his children, and in some other ways
which need not now be specified. Beyond this, however, no interference
contrary to the parent's consent is justifiable. Where parents will do
wrong, notwithstanding any persuasions which we can address to them, we
must not violate the principles of an arrangement which God has himself
made, but must submit patiently to the awful consequences which will in
some cases occur, reflecting that the responsibility for these
consequences is on the head of those who neglect their duty, and that
the being who makes them liable will settle the account.
Whatever, then, the teacher attempts to do beyond the _specific_ and
_defined_ duties which are included among the objects for which he is
employed, must be done _by permission_--by the voluntary consent,
whether tacit or openly expressed, of those by whom he is employed.
This, of course, confines him to what is generally common ground among
his particular employers. In a republican country, where all his patrons
are republican, he may, without impropriety, explain and commend to his
pupils, as occasion may occur, the principles of free governments, and
the blessings which may be expected to flow from them. But it would not
be justifiable for him to do this under a monarchy, or in a community
divided in regard to this subject, because this question does not come
within the objects for the promotion of which his patrons have
associated and employed him, and consequently he has no right, while
continuing their teacher, to go into it without their consent. In the
same manner, an Episcopal teacher, in a private school formed and
supported by Episcopalians, may use and commend forms of prayer, and
explain the various usages of that church, exhibiting their excellence,
and their adaptation to the purposes for which they are intended. He may
properly do this, because, in the case supposed, the patrons of the
school are _united_ on this subject, and their _tacit consent_ may be
supposed to be given. But place the same teacher over a school of
Friends, whose parents dislike forms and ceremonies of every kind in
religion, and his duty would be changed altogether. So, if a Roman
Catholic is intrusted with the instruction of a common district school
in a community composed of many Protestant denominations, it would be
plainly his duty to avoid all influence, direct or indirect, over the
minds of his pupils, except in those religious sentiments and opinions
which are common to himself and all his employers. I repeat the
principle. _He is employed for a specific purpose, and he has no right
to wander from that purpose, except as far as he can go with the common
consent of his employers._
Now the common ground on religious subjects in this country is very
broad. There are, indeed, many principles which are, in my view,
essential parts of Christianity, which are subjects of active discussion
among us. But, setting these aside, there are other principles equally
essential, in regard to which the whole community are agreed; or, at
least, if there is a dissenting minority, it is so small that it is
hardly to be considered. Let us look at some of these principles.
1. Our community is agreed that _there is a God._ There is probably not
a school in our country where the parents of the scholars would not wish
to have the teacher, in his conversation with his pupils, take this for
granted, and allude reverently to that great Being, with the design of
leading them to realize his existence and to feel his authority.
2. Our community are agreed that _we are responsible to God for all our
conduct._ Though some persons absurdly pretend to believe that the Being
who formed this world, if, indeed, they think there is any such Being,
has left it and its inhabitants to themselves, not inspecting their
conduct, and never intending to call them to account, they are too few
among us to need consideration. A difference of opinion on this subject
might embarrass the teacher in France, and in other countries in Europe,
but not here. However negligent men may be in _obeying_ God's commands,
they do almost universally in our country admit in theory the authority
from which they come, and believing this, the parent, even if he is
aware that he himself does not obey these commands, chooses to have his
children taught to respect them. The teacher will thus be acting with
the consent of his employers, in almost any part of our country, in
endeavoring to influence his pupils to perform moral duties, not merely
from worldly motives, nor from mere abstract principles of right and
wrong, but _from regard to the authority of God._
3. The community are agreed, too, in the belief of _the immortality of
the soul._ They believe, almost without exception, that there is a
future state of being to which this is introductory and preparatory, and
almost every father and mother in our country wish to have their
children keep this in mind, and to be influenced by it in all their
conduct.
4. The community are agreed that _we have a revelation from Heaven._ I
believe there are very few instances where the parents would not be glad
to have the Bible read from time to time, its geographical and
historical meanings illustrated, and its moral lessons brought to bear
upon the hearts and lives of their children. Of course, if the teacher
is so unwise as to make such a privilege, if it were allowed him, the
occasion of exerting an influence upon one side or the other of some
question which divides the community around him, he must expect to
excite jealousy and distrust, and to be excluded from a privilege which
he might otherwise have been permitted freely to enjoy. There may, alas!
be some cases where the use of the Scriptures is altogether forbidden in
school; but probably in almost every such case it would be found that it
is from fear of its perversion to sect or party purposes, and not from
any unwillingness to have the Bible used in the way I have described.
5. The community are agreed, in theory, that _personal attachment to the
Supreme Being is the duty of every human soul;_ and every parent, with
exceptions so few that they are not worth naming, wishes that his
children should cherish that affection, and yield their hearts to its
influence. He is willing, therefore, that the teacher, of course without
interfering with the regular duties for the performance of which he
holds his office, should, from time to time, so speak of this duty, of
God's goodness to men, of his daily protection and his promised favors,
as to awaken, if possible, this attachment in the hearts of his
children. Of course, it is very easy for the teacher, if he is so
disposed, to abuse this privilege also. He can, under pretense of
awakening and cherishing the spirit of piety in the hearts of his
pupils, present the subject in such aspects and relations as to arouse
the sectarian or denominational feelings of some of his employers; but I
believe, if this was honestly and fully avoided, there are few, if any
parents in our country who would not be gratified to have the great
principle of love to God manifest itself in the instructions of the
school-room, and showing itself, by its genuine indications, in the
hearts and conduct of their children.
6. The community are agreed not only in believing that piety consists
primarily in love to God, but that _the life of piety is to be commenced
by penitence for past sins, and forgiveness, in some way or other,
through a Savior._ I am aware that one class of theological writers, in
the heat of controversy, charge the other with believing that Jesus
Christ was nothing more nor less than a teacher of religion, and there
are unquestionably individuals who take this view. But these
individuals are few. There are very few in our community who do not in
some sense look upon Jesus Christ as our _Savior_--our Redeemer; who do
not feel themselves _in some way_ indebted to him for the offer of
pardon. There may be here and there a theological student, or a
contributor to the columns of a polemical magazine, who ranks Jesus
Christ with Moses and with Paul. But the great mass of the fathers and
mothers, of every name and denomination through all the ranks of
society, look up to the Savior of sinners with something at least of the
feeling that he is the object of extraordinary affection and reverence.
I am aware, however, that I am approaching the limit which, in many
parts of our country, ought to bound the religious influence of the
teacher in a public school, and on this subject, as on every other, he
ought to do nothing directly or indirectly which would be displeasing to
those who have intrusted children to his care.
So much ground, it seems, the teacher may occupy, by common consent, in
this country, and it certainly is a great deal. It may be doubted
whether, after all our disputes, there is a country in the world whose
inhabitants have so much in common in regard to religious belief. There
is, perhaps, no country in the world where the teacher may be allowed to
do so much toward leading his pupils to fear God and to obey his
commands, with the cordial consent of parents, as he can here.[3]
[Footnote 3: In speaking of this common ground, and in commenting upon
it, I wish not to be understood that I consider these truths as
comprising all that is essential in Christianity. Very far from it. A
full expression of the Christian faith would go far in advance of all
here presented. We must not confound, however, what is essential to
prepare the way for the forgiveness of sin with what is essential that a
child should understand in order to secure his penitence and
forgiveness. The former is a great deal, the latter very little.]
The ground which I have been laying out is common all over our country;
in particular places there will be even much more that is common. Of
course the teacher, in such cases, will be at much greater liberty. If a
Roman Catholic community establish a school, and appoint a Roman
Catholic teacher, he may properly, in his intercourse with his scholars,
allude, with commendation, to the opinions and practices of that church.
If a college is established by the Methodist denomination, the teacher
of that institution may, of course, explain and enforce there the views
of that society. Each teacher is confined only to _those views which are
common to the founders and supporters of the particular institution to
which he is attached._
I trust the principle which I have been attempting to enforce is fully
before the reader's mind, namely, that moral and religious instruction
in a school being in a great degree extra-official in its nature, must
be carried no farther than the teacher can go with the common consent,
either expressed or implied, of those who have founded, and who support
his school. Of course, if those founders forbid it altogether, they have
a right to do so, and the teacher must submit. The only question that
can justly arise is whether he will remain in such a situation, or go
and seek employment where a door of usefulness, here closed against him,
will be opened. While he remains, he must honestly and fully submit to
the wishes of those in whose hands Providence has placed the ultimate
responsibility of training up the children of his school. It is only for
a partial and specific purpose that they are placed under his care.
The religious reader may inquire why I am so anxious to restrain, rather
than to urge on, the exercise of religious influence in schools. "There
is far too little," some one will say, "instead of too much, and
teachers need to be encouraged and led on in this duty, not to be
restrained from it." There is, indeed, far too little religious
influence exerted in common schools. What I have said has been intended
to prepare the way for an increase of it. My view of it is this:
If teachers do universally confine themselves to the limits which I have
been attempting to define, they may accomplish within these limits a
vast amount of good. By attempting, however, to exceed them, the
confidence of parents is destroyed or weakened, and the door is closed.
In this way, injury to a very great extent has been done in many parts
of our country. Parents are led to associate with the very idea of
religion, indirect and perhaps secret efforts to influence their
children in a way which they themselves would disapprove. They transfer
to the cause of piety itself the dislike which was first awakened by
exceptionable means to promote it; and other teachers, seeing these evil
effects, are deterred from attempting what they might easily have
accomplished. Before, therefore, attempting to enforce the duty and to
explain the methods of exerting religious influence in school, I thought
proper distinctly to state with what restrictions and within what limits
the work is to be done.
There are many teachers who profess to cherish the spirit and to
entertain the hopes of piety, who yet make no effort whatever to extend
its influence to the hearts of their pupils. Others appeal sometimes to
religious truth merely to assist them in the government of the school.
They perhaps bring it before the minds of disobedient pupils in a vain
effort to make an impression upon the conscience of one who has done
wrong, and who can not by other means be brought to submission. But the
pupil in such cases understands, or at least he believes, that the
teacher applies to religious truth only to eke out his own authority,
and of course it produces no effect. Another teacher thinks he must, to
discharge his duty, give a certain amount, weekly, of what he considers
religious instruction. Pie accordingly appropriates a regular portion of
time to a formal lecture or exhortation, which he delivers without
regard to the mental habits of thought and feeling which prevail among
his charge. He forgets that the heart must be led, not driven to piety,
and that unless his efforts are adapted to the nature of the minds he is
acting upon, and suited to influence them, he must as certainly fail of
success as when there is a want of adaptedness between the means and the
end in any other undertaking whatever.
The arrangement which seems to me as well calculated as any for the
religious exercises of a school is this:
1. In the morning, open the school with a very short prayer, resembling
in its object and length the opening prayer in the morning at
Congregational churches. The posture which, from some considerable
experience, I would recommend at this exercise, is sitting with the head
reclined upon the desk. The prayer, besides being short, should be
simple in its language and specific in its petitions. A degree of
particularity and familiarity which would be improper elsewhere is not
only allowable here, but necessary to the production of the proper
effect. That the reader may understand to what extent I mean to be
understood to recommend this, I will subjoin a form, such as in spirit I
suppose such a prayer ought to be.
"Our Father in Heaven, who hast kindly preserved the pupils and the
teacher of this school during the past night, come and grant us a
continuance of thy protection and blessing during this day. We can not
spend the day prosperously and happily without thee. Come, then, and, be
in this school-room during this day, and help us all to be faithful and
successful in duty.
"Guide the teacher in all that he may do. Give him wisdom, and patience,
and faithfulness. May he treat all his pupils with kindness; and if any
of them should do any thing that is wrong, wilt thou help him, gently
but firmly, to endeavor to bring him back to duty. May he sympathize
with the difficulties and trials of all, and promote the present
happiness as well as the intellectual progress of all who are committed
to his care.
"Take care of the pupils too. May they spend the day pleasantly and
happily together. Wilt thou, who didst originally give us all our
powers, direct and assist us all, this day, in the use and improvement
of them. Remove difficulties from our path, and give us all fidelity and
patience in every duty. Let no one of us destroy our peace and happiness
this day by breaking any of thy commands, or encouraging our companions
in sins, or neglecting, in any respect, our duty. We ask all in the name
of our great Redeemer. Amen."
Of course the prayer of each day will be varied, unless in special cases
the teacher prefers to read some form like the above. But let every one
be _minute and particular,_ relating especially to school--to school
temptations, and trials, and difficulties. Let every one be filled with
expressions relating to school, so that it will bear upon every sentence
the impression that it is the petition of a teacher and his pupils at
the throne of grace.
2. If the pupils can sing, there may be a single verse, or sometimes two
verses, of some well-known hymn sung after the prayer at the opening of
the school. Teachers will find it much easier to introduce this practice
than it would at first be supposed. In almost every school there are
enough who can sing to begin, especially if the first experiment is made
in a recess, or before or after school; and the beginning once made, the
difficulty is over. If but few tunes are sung, a very large proportion
of the scholars will soon learn them.
3. Let there be no other regular exercise until the close of the
afternoon school. When that hour has arrived, let the teacher devote a
very short period, five minutes perhaps, to religious _instruction_,
given in various ways. At one time he may explain and illustrate some
important truth. At another, read and comment upon a very short portion
of Scripture. At another, relate an anecdote or fact which will tend to
interest the scholars in the performance of duty. The teacher should be
very careful not to imitate on these occasions the formal style of
exhortation from the pulpit. Let him use no cant and hackneyed phrases,
and never approach the subject of personal piety, or speak of such
feelings as penitence for sin, trust in God, and love for the Savior,
unless his own heart is really at the time warmed by the emotions which
he wishes to awaken in others. Children very easily detect hypocrisy.
They know very well when a parent or teacher is talking to them on
religious subjects merely as a matter of course for the sake of effect,
and such constrained and formal efforts never do any good.
Let, then, every thing which you do in reference to this subject be done
with proper regard to the character and condition of the youthful mind,
and in such a way as shall be calculated to _interest_ as well as to
_instruct_. A cold and formal exhortation, or even an apparently earnest
one, delivered in a tone of affected solemnity, will produce no good
effect. Perhaps I ought not to say it will produce _no_ good effect, for
good does sometimes result as a sort of accidental consequence from
almost any thing. I mean it will have no effectual _tendency_ to do
good. You must vary your method, too, in order to interest your pupils.
Watch their countenances when you are addressing them, and see if they
look interested. If they do not, be assured that there is something
wrong, or at least something ill-judged or inefficient in your manner of
explaining the truths which you wish to have produce an effect upon
their minds.
That you may be prepared to bring moral and religious truths before
their minds in the way I have described, your own mind must take a
strong interest in this class of truths. You must habituate yourself to
look at the moral and religious aspects and relations of all that you
see and hear. When you are reading, notice such facts and remember such
narratives as you can turn to good account in this way. In the same way,
treasure up in your mind such occurrences as may come under your own
personal observation when traveling, or when mixing with society.
That the spirit and manner of these religious exercises may be the more
distinctly understood, I will give some examples.
Let us suppose, then, that the hour for closing school has come. The
books are laid aside; the room is still; the boys expect the few words
which the teacher is accustomed to address to them, and, looking up to
him, they listen to hear what he has to say.
"You may take your Bibles."
The boys, by a simultaneous movement, open their desks, and take from
them their copies of the sacred volume.
"What is the first book of the New Testament?"
"Matthew," they all answer at once.
"The second?" "Mark." "The third?" "Luke." "The next?" "John." "The
next?" "The Acts." "The next?"
Many answer, "Romans."
"The next?"
A few voices say faintly, and with hesitation, "First of Corinthians."
"I perceive your answers become fainter and fainter. Do you know what is
the last book of the New Testament?"
The boys answer promptly, "Revelations."
"Do you know what books are between the Acts and the book of
Revelation?"
Some say "No, sir;" some begin to enumerate such books as occur to them,
and some, perhaps, begin to name them promptly and in their regular
order.
"I do not mean," interrupts the teacher, "the _names_ of the books, but
the _kinds_ of books."
The boys hesitate.
"They are epistles or letters. Do you know who wrote the letters?"
"Paul," "Peter," answer many voices at once.
"Yes, there were several writers. Now the point which I wish to bring
before you is this; do you know in what order, I mean on what
principles, the books are arranged?"
"No, sir," is the universal reply.
I will tell you. First come all Paul's epistles. If you turn over the
leaves of the Testament, you will see that Paul's letters are all put
together after the book of the Acts; and what I wish you to notice is,
that they are arranged in the _order_ of _their length_. The longest
comes first, and then the next, and so on to the shortest, which is the
epistle to Philemon. This, of course, comes last--no, I am wrong in
saying it is the last of Paul's epistles; there is one more to the
Hebrews; and this comes after all the others, for there has been a good
deal of dispute whether it was really written by Paul. You will see that
his name is not at the beginning of it, as it is in his other epistles:
so it was put last.
Then comes the Epistle of James. Will you see whether it is longer than
any that come after it? The boys, after a minute's examination, answer,
"Yes, sir;" "Yes, sir."
"What comes next?"
"The epistles of Peter."
"Yes; and you will see that the longest of Peter's epistles is next in
length to that of James's; and, indeed, all his are arranged in the
order of their length."
"Yes, sir."
"What comes next?"
"John's."
"Yes; and they are arranged in the order of their length. Do you now
understand the principle of the arrangement of the epistles?"
"Yes, sir."
"I should like to have any of you who are interested in it to try to
express this principle in a few sentences, on paper, and lay it on my
desk to-morrow, and I will read what you write. You will find it very
difficult to express it. Now you may lay aside your books. It will be
pleasanter for you if you do it silently."
Intelligent children will be interested even in so simple a point as
this--much more interested than a maturer mind, unacquainted with the
peculiarities of children, would suppose. By bringing up from time to
time some such literary inquiry as this, they will be led insensibly to
regard the Bible as opening a field for interesting intellectual
research, and will more easily be led to study it.
At another time the teacher spends his five minutes in aiming to
accomplish a very different object. I will suppose it to be one of those
afternoons when all has gone smoothly and pleasantly in school. There
has been nothing to excite strong interest or emotion; and there has
been (as every teacher knows there sometimes will be), without any
assignable cause which he can perceive, a calm, and quiet, and happy
spirit diffused over the minds and countenances of the little assembly.
His evening communication should accord with this feeling, and he should
make it the occasion to promote those pure and hallowed emotions in
which every immortal mind must find its happiness, if it is to enjoy any
worth possessing.
When all is still, the teacher addresses his pupils as follows:
"I have nothing but a simple story to tell you to-night. It is true, and
the fact interested me very much when I witnessed it, but I do not know
that it will interest you now merely to hear it repeated. It is this:
"Last vacation, I was traveling in a remote and thinly-settled country,
among the mountains, in another state. I was riding with a gentleman on
an almost unfrequented road. Forests were all around us, and the houses
were small and very few.
"At length, as we were passing an humble and solitary dwelling, the
gentleman said to me, 'There is a young woman sick in this house; should
you like to go in and see her?' 'Yes, sir,' said I, 'very much. She can
have very few visitors, I think, in this lonely place, and if you think
she would like to see us, I should like to go.'
"We turned our horses toward the door, and as we were riding up, I
asked what was the matter with the young woman.
"'Consumption,' the gentleman replied; 'and I suppose she will not live
long.'
"At that moment we dismounted and entered the house. It was a very
pleasant summer afternoon, and the door was open. We entered, and were
received by an elderly lady, who seemed glad to see us. In one corner of
the room was a bed, on which was lying the patient whom we had come to
visit. She was pale and thin in her countenance, but there was a very
calm and happy expression beaming in her eye. I went up to her bedside,
and asked her how she did.
"I talked with her some time, and found that she was a Christian. She
did not seem to know whether she would get well again or not, and, in
fact, she did not appear to care much about it. She was evidently happy
then, and she believed that she should continue so. She had been
penitent for her sins, and had sought and obtained forgiveness, and
enjoyed, in her loneliness, not only the protection of God, but also his
presence in her heart, diffusing peace and happiness there. When I came
into the house, I said to myself, 'I pity, I am sure, a person who is
confined by sickness in this lonely place, with nothing to interest or
amuse her;' but when I came out, I said to myself, 'I do not pity her at
all.'"
Never destroy the effect of such a communication as this by attempting
to follow it up with an exhortation, or with general remarks, vainly
attempting to strengthen the impression.
_Never_, do I say? Perhaps there may be some exceptions. But children
are not reached by formal exhortations; their hearts are touched and
affected in other ways. Sometimes you must reprove, sometimes you must
condemn; but indiscriminate and perpetual harangues about the guilt of
impenitence, and earnest entreaties to begin a life of piety, only
harden the hearts they are intended to soften, and consequently confirm
those who hear them in the habits of sin.
In the same way a multitude of other subjects, infinite in number and
variety, may be brought before your pupils at stated seasons for
religious instruction. It is unnecessary to give any more particular
examples, but still it may not be amiss to suggest a few general
principles, which ought to guide those who are addressing the young on
every subject, and especially on the subject of religion.
1. _Make no effort to simplify language when addressing the young._
Children always observe this, and are always displeased with it, unless
they are very young; and it is not necessary. They can understand
ordinary language well enough, if the _subject_ is within their
comprehension, and treated in a manner adapted to their powers. If you
doubt whether children can understand language, tell such a story as
this, with ardor of tone and proper gesticulation, to a child only two
or three years old:
"I saw an enormous dog in the street the other day. He was sauntering
along slowly, until he saw a huge piece of meat lying down on the
ground. He grasped it instantly between his teeth, and ran away with all
speed, until he disappeared around a corner so that I could see him no
more."
In such a description there is a large number of words which such a
child would not understand if they stood alone, but the whole
description would be perfectly intelligible. The reason is, the
_subject_ is simple; the facts are such as a very little child would be
interested in; and the connection of each new word, in almost every
instance, explains its meaning. That is the way by which children learn
all language. They learn the meaning of words, not by definitions, but
by their connection in the sentences in which they hear them; and, by
long practice, they acquire an astonishing facility of doing this. It is
true they sometimes mistake, but not often, and the teacher of children
of almost any age need not be afraid that he shall not be understood.
There is no danger from his using the _language_ of men, if his subject,
and the manner in which he treats it, and the form and structure of his
sentences, are what they ought to be. Of course there may be cases, in
fact there often will be cases, where particular words will require
special explanation, but they will be comparatively few, and instead of
making efforts to avoid them, it will be better to let them come. The
pupils will be interested and profited by the explanation.
Perhaps some may ask what harm it will do to simplify language when
talking to children. "It certainly can do no injury," they may say, "and
it diminishes all possibility of being misunderstood." It does injury in
at least three ways:
(1.) It disgusts the young persons to whom it is addressed, and prevents
their being interested in what is said. I once met two children, twelve
years of age, who had just returned from hearing a very able discourse,
delivered before a number of Sabbath-schools assembled on some public
occasion. "How did you like the discourse?" said I.
"Very well indeed," they replied; "only," said one of them, smiling, "he
talked to us as if we were all little children."
Girls and boys, however young, never consider themselves little
children, for they can always look down upon some younger than
themselves. They are mortified when treated as though they could not
understand what is really within the reach of their faculties. They do
not like to have their powers underrated, and they are right in this
feeling. It is common to all, old and young.
(2.) Children are kept back in learning language if their teacher makes
effort to _come down,_ as it is called, to their comprehension in the
use of words. Notice that I say _in the use of words;_ for, as I shall
show presently, it is absolutely necessary to come down to the
comprehension of children in some other respects. If, however, in the
use of words, those who address children confine themselves to such
words as children already understand, how are they to make progress in
that most important of all studies, the knowledge of language? Many a
mother keeps back her child, in this way, to a degree that is hardly
conceivable, thus doing all in her power to perpetuate in the child an
ignorance of its mother tongue.
Teachers ought to make constant efforts to increase their scholars'
stock of words by using new ones from time to time, taking care to
explain them when the connection does not do it for them; so that,
instead of _coming down_ to the language of childhood, they ought rather
to go as far away from it as they can, without leaving their pupils
behind them.
(3.) But perhaps the greatest evil of this practice is, it satisfies the
teacher. He thinks he addresses his pupils in the right manner, and
overlooks altogether the real peculiarities in which the power to
interest the young depends. He talks to them in simple language, and
wonders why they are not interested. He certainly is _plain_ enough. He
is vexed with them for not attending to what he says, attributing it to
their dullness or regardlessness of all that is useful or good, instead
of perceiving that the great difficulty is his own want of skill. These
three evils are sufficient to deter the teacher from the practice.
2. Present your subject, not in its _general views_, but in its _minute
details_. This is the great secret of interesting the young. Present it
in its details and in its practical exemplifications; do this with any
subject whatever, and children will always be interested.
To illustrate this, let us suppose two teachers wishing to explain to
their pupils the same subject, and taking the following opposite methods
of doing it. One, at the close of school, addresses his charge as
follows:
"The moral character of any action, that is, whether it is right or
wrong, depends upon the _motives_ with which it is performed. Men look
only at the outward conduct, but God looks at the heart. In order, now,
that any action should be pleasing to God, it is necessary it should be
performed from the motive of a desire to please him.
"Now there are a great many other motives of action which prevail among
mankind besides this right one. There is love of praise, love of money,
affection for friends, and many others."
By the time the teacher has proceeded thus far, he finds, as he looks
around the room, that the countenances of his pupils are assuming a
listless and inattentive air. One is restless in his seat, evidently
paying no attention. Another has reclined his head upon his desk, lost
in a reverie, and others are looking round the room at one another, or
at the door, restless and impatient, hoping that the dull lecture will
soon be over.
The other teacher says:
"I have thought of an experiment I might try, which would illustrate to
you a very important subject. Suppose I should call one of the boys, A,
to me, and should say to him, 'I wish you to go to your seat, and
transcribe a piece of poetry as handsomely as you can. If it is written
as well as you can possibly write it, I will give you a quarter of a
dollar. Suppose I say this to him privately, so that none of the rest of
the boys can hear, and he goes to take his seat and begins to work. You
perceive that I have presented to him a motive to exertion."
"Yes, sir," say the boys, all looking with interest at the teacher,
wondering how this experiment is going to end.
"Well, what would that motive be?"
"Money." "The quarter of a dollar." "Love of money," or perhaps other
answers, are heard from the various parts of the room.
"Yes, love of money it is called. Now suppose I should call another boy,
one with whom I was particularly acquainted, and who I should know
would make an effort to please me, and should say to him, 'For a
particular reason, I want you to copy this poetry'--giving him the
same--'I wish you to copy it handsomely, for I wish to send it away, and
have not time to copy it myself. Can you do it for me?'
"Suppose the boy should say he could, and should take it to his seat and
begin, neither of the boys knowing what the other was doing. I should
now have offered to this second boy a motive. Would it be the same with
the other?"
"No, sir."
"What was the other?"
"Love of money."
"What is this?"
The boys hesitate.
"It might be called," continues the teacher, "friendship. It is the
motive of a vast number of the actions which are performed in this
world.
"Do you think of any other common motive of action besides love of money
and friendship?"
"Love of honor," says one; "fear," says another.
"Yes," continues the teacher, "both these are common motives. I might,
to exhibit them, call two more boys, one after the other, and say to the
one, 'I will thank you to go and copy this piece of poetry as well as
you can. I want to send it to the school committee as a specimen of
improvement made in this school.'
"To the other I might say, 'You have been a careless boy to-day; you
have not got your lessons well. Now take your seat and copy this poetry.
Do it carefully. Unless you take pains, and do it as well as you
possibly can, I shall punish you severely before you go home.'
"How many motives have I got now? Four, I believe."
"Yes, sir," say the boys.
"Love of money, friendship, love of honor, and fear. We called the first
boy A; let us call the others B, C, and D; no, we shall remember better
to call them by the name of their motives. We will call the first M, for
money; the second, F, for friendship; the third, H, for honor; and the
last, F--we have got an F already; what shall we do? On the whole, it is
of no consequence; we will have two F's, but we will take care not to
confound them.
"But there are a great many other motives entirely distinct from these.
For example, suppose I should say to a fifth boy, 'Will you copy this
piece of poetry? It belongs to one of the little boys in school: he
wants a copy of it, and I told him I would try to get some one to copy
it for him.' This motive, now, would be benevolence; that is, if the boy
who was asked to copy it was not particularly acquainted with the other,
and did it chiefly to oblige him. We will call this boy B, for
Benevolence.
"Now suppose I call a sixth boy, and say to him, 'I have set four or
five boys to work copying this piece of poetry; now I wish you to sit
down, and see if you can not do it better than any of them. After all
are done, I will compare them, and see if yours is not the best.' This
would be trying to excite emulation. We must call this boy, then, E. But
the time I intended to devote to talking with you on this subject for
to-day is expired. Perhaps to-morrow I will take up the subject again."
The reader now will observe that the grand peculiarity of the
instructions given by this last teacher, as distinguished from those of
the first, consists in this, that the parts of the subject are presented
_in detail_, and _in particular exemplification._ In the first case, the
whole subject was dispatched in a single, general, and comprehensive
description; in the latter, it is examined minutely, one point being
brought forward at a time. The discussions are enlivened, too, by
meeting and removing such little difficulties as will naturally come up
in such an investigation. Boys and girls will take an interest in such a
lecture; they will regret to have it come to a conclusion, and will
give their attention when the subject is again brought forward on the
following day. Let us suppose the time for continuing the exercise to
have arrived. The teacher resumes the discussion thus:
"I was talking to you yesterday about the motives of action. How many
had I made?"
Some say "Four," some "Five," some "Six."
"Can you name any of them?"
The boys attempt to recollect them, and they give the names in the order
in which they accidentally occur to the various individuals. Of course
the words Fear, Emulation, Honor, Friendship, and others, come in
confused and irregular sounds from every part of the school-room.
"You do not recollect the order," says the teacher, "and it is of no
consequence, for the order I named was only accidental. Now to go on
with my account: suppose all these boys to sit down and go to writing,
each one acting under the impulse of the motive which had been presented
to him individually. But, in order to make the supposition answer my
purpose, I must add two other cases. I will imagine that one of these
boys is called away a few minutes, and leaves his paper on his desk, and
that another boy, of an ill-natured and morose disposition, happening to
pass by and see his paper, thinks he will sit down and write upon it a
few lines, just to tease and vex the one who was called away. We will
also suppose that I call another boy to me, who I have reason to believe
is a sincere Christian, and say to him, 'Here is a new duty for you to
perform this afternoon. This piece of poetry is to be copied; now do it
carefully and faithfully. You know that this morning you committed
yourself to God's care during the day; now remember that he has been
watching you all the time thus far, and that he will be noticing you all
the time you are doing this; he will be pleased if you do your duty
faithfully.'
"The boys thus all go to writing. Now suppose a stranger should come
in, and, seeing them all busy, should say to me,
"'What are all these boys doing?'
"'They are writing.'
"'What are they writing?'
"'They are writing a piece of poetry.'
"'They seem to be very busy; they are very industrious, good boys.'
"'Oh no! it is not by any means certain that they are _good_ boys.'
"'I mean that they are good boys _now_; that they are doing right at
_this time_."
'_That_ is not certain; some of them are doing right and some are doing
very wrong, though they are all writing the same piece of poetry.'
The stranger would perhaps look surprised while I said this, and would
ask an explanation, and I might properly reply as follows:
'Whether the boys are at this moment doing right or wrong depends not
so much upon what they are doing as upon the feelings of the heart with
which they are doing it. I acknowledge that they are all doing the same
thing outwardly; they are all writing the same extract, and they are all
doing it attentively and carefully, but they are thinking of very
different things.'
'What are they thinking of?'
'Do you see that boy?' I might say, pointing to one of them. 'His name
is M. He is writing for money. He is saying to himself all the time, "I
hope I shall get the quarter of a dollar." He is calculating what he
shall buy with it, and every good or bad letter that he makes, he is
considering the chance whether he shall succeed or fail in obtaining
it.'
'What is the next boy to him thinking of?'
'His name is B. He is copying to oblige a little fellow whom he
scarcely knows, and is trying to make his copy handsome, so as to give
him pleasure. He is thinking how gratified his schoolmate will be when
he receives it, and is forming plans to get acquainted with him.
"'Do you see that boy in the back seat? He has maliciously taken another
boy's place just to spoil his work. He knows, too, that he is breaking
the rules of the school in being out of his place, but he stays
notwithstanding, and is delighting himself with thinking how
disappointed and sad his schoolmate will be when he comes in and finds
his work spoiled by having another handwriting in it, when he was
depending on doing it all himself.'
"'I see,' the stranger might say by this time, 'that there is a great
difference among these boys; have you told me about them all?'
"'No,' I might reply, 'there are several others. I will only mention one
more. He sits in the middle of the second desk. He is writing carefully,
simply because he wishes to do his duty and please God. He thinks that
God is present, and loves him, and takes care of him, and he is obedient
and grateful in return. I do not mean that he is all the time thinking
of God, but love to him is his motive of effort.'
"Do you see now, boys, what I mean to teach you by this long
supposition?"
"Yes, sir."
"I presume you do. Perhaps it would be difficult for you to express it
in words; I can express it in general terms thus:
"_Our characters depend, not on what we do, but on the spirit and motive
with which we do it._ What I have been saying throws light upon one
important verse in the Bible, which I should like to have read. James,
have you a Bible in your desk?"
"Yes, sir."
"Will you turn to 1 Samuel, xvi., 7, and then rise and read it? Read it
loud, so that all the school can hear."
James read as follows:
"MAN LOOKETH ON THE OUTWARD APPEARANCE, BUT GOD LOOKETH ON THE HEART."
This is the way to reach the intellect and the heart of the young. Go
_into detail._ Explain truth and duty, not in an abstract form, but
exhibit it _in actual and living examples._
(3.) Be very cautious how you bring in the awful sanctions of religion
to assist you directly in the discipline of your school. You will derive
a most powerful indirect assistance from the influence of religion in
the little community which you govern, but this will be through the
prevalence of its spirit in the hearts of your pupils, and not from any
assistance which you can usually derive from it in managing particular
cases of transgression. Many teachers make great mistakes in this
respect. A bad boy, who has done something openly and directly
subversive of the good order of the school, or the rights of his
companions, is called before the master, who thinks that the most
powerful weapon to wield against him is the Bible. So, while the
trembling culprit stands before him, he administers to him a reproof,
which consists of an almost ludicrous mixture of scolding, entreaty,
religious instruction, and threatening of punishment. But such an
occasion as this is no time to touch a bad boy's heart. He is steeled at
such a moment against any thing but mortification and the desire to get
out of the hands of the master, and he has an impression that the
teacher appeals to religious principles only to assist him to sustain
his own authority. Of course, religious truth, at such a time, can make
no good impression. There may be exceptions to this rule. There
doubtless are. I have found some; and every successful teacher who reads
this will probably call to mind some which have occurred in the course
of his own experience. I am only speaking of what ought to be the
general rule, which is to reserve religious truths for moments of a
different character altogether. Bring the principles of the Bible
forward when the mind is calm, when the emotions are quieted, and all
within is at rest; and in exhibiting them, be actuated, not by a desire
to make your duties of government easier, but to promote the real and
permanent happiness of your charge.
(4.) Do not be eager to draw from your pupils an expression of their
personal interest in religious truth. Lay before them, and enforce, by
all the means in your power, the principles of Christian duty, but do
not converse with them for the purpose of gratifying your curiosity in
regard to their piety, or your spiritual pride by counting up the
numbers of those who have been led to piety by your influence. Beginning
to act from Christian principle is the beginning of a new life, and it
may be an interesting subject of inquiry to you to ascertain how many of
your pupils have experienced the change; but, in many cases, it would
merely gratify curiosity to know. There is no question, too, that, in
very many instances, the faint glimmering of religious interest, which
would have kindled into a bright flame, is extinguished at once, and
perhaps forever, by the rough inquiries of a religious friend. Besides,
if you make inquiries, and form a definite opinion of your pupils, they
will know that this is your practice, and many a one will repose in the
belief that you consider him or her a Christian, and you will thus
increase the number, already unfortunately too large, of those who
maintain the form and pretenses of piety without its power; whose hearts
are filled with self-sufficiency and spiritual pride, and perhaps zeal
for the truths and external duties of religion, while the real spirit of
piety has no place there. They trust to some imaginary change, long
since passed by, and which has proved to be spurious by its failing of
its fruits. The best way--in fact, the only way--to guard against this
danger, especially with the young, is to show, by your manner of
speaking and acting on this subject at all times, that you regard a
truly religious life as the only evidence of piety, and that,
consequently, however much interest your pupils may apparently take in
religious instruction, they can not know, and you can not know, whether
Christian principle reigns within them in any other way than by
following them through life, and observing how, and with what spirit,
the various duties which devolve upon them are performed.
There are very many fallacious indications of piety, so fallacious and
so plausible that there are very few, even among intelligent Christians,
who are not often greatly deceived. "By their fruits ye shall know
them," said the Savior; a direction sufficiently plain, one would think,
and pointing to a test sufficiently easy to be applied. But it is slow
and tedious work to wait for fruits, and we accordingly seek a criterion
which will help us quicker to a result. You see your pupil serious and
thoughtful. It is well; but it is not proof of piety. You see him deeply
interested when you speak of his obligations to his Maker, and the
duties he owes to Him. This is well, but it is no proof of piety. You
know he reads his Bible daily, and offers his morning and evening
prayers. When you speak to him of God's goodness, and of his past
ingratitude, his bosom heaves with emotion, and the tear stands in his
eye. It is all well. You may hope that he is going to devote his life to
the service of God; but you can not know, you can not even believe with
any great confidence. These appearances are not piety. They are not
conclusive evidences of it. They are only, in the young, faint grounds
of hope that the genuine fruits of piety will appear.
I am aware that there are many persons so habituated to judging with
confidence of the piety of others from some such indications as I have
described, that they will think I carry my cautions to the extreme.
Perhaps I do; but the Savior said, "By their fruits ye shall know them,"
and it is safest to follow his direction.
By the word "fruits," however, our Savior unquestionably does not mean
the mere moral virtues of this life. The fruits to be looked at are the
fruits of _piety_, that is, indications of permanent attachment to the
Creator, and a desire to obey his commands. We must look for these.
There is no objection to your giving particular individuals special
instruction adapted to their wants and circumstances. You may do this by
writing or in other ways, but do not lead them to make up their minds
fully that they are Christians in such a sense as to induce them to feel
that the work is done. Let them understand that becoming a Christian is
_beginning_ a work, not _finishing_ it. Be cautious how you form an
opinion even yourself on the question of the genuineness of their piety.
Be content not to know. You will be more faithful and watchful if you
consider it uncertain, and they will be more faithful and watchful too.
(5.) Bring very fully and frequently before your pupils the practical
duties of religion in all their details, especially their duties at
home, to their parents, and to their brothers and sisters. Do not,
however, allow them to mistake morality for religion. Show them clearly
what piety is in its essence, and this you can do most successfully by
exhibiting its effects.
(6.) Finally, let me insert as the keystone of all that I have been
saying in this chapter, be sincere, and ardent, and consistent in your
own piety. The whole structure which I have been attempting to build
will tumble into ruins without this. Be constantly watchful and careful,
not only to maintain intimate communion with God, and to renew it daily
in your seasons of retirement, but to guard your conduct. Let piety
control and regulate it. Show your pupils that it makes you amiable,
patient, forbearing, benevolent in little things as well as in great
things, and your example will co-operate with your instructions, and
allure your pupils to walk in the paths which you tread. But no
clearness and faithfulness in religious teaching will atone for the
injury which a bad example will effect. Conduct speaks louder than
words, and no persons are more shrewd than the young to discover the
hollowness of empty professions, and the heartlessness of mere
pretended interest in their good.
I am aware that this book may fall into the hands of some who may take
little interest in the subject of this chapter. To such I may perhaps
owe an apology for having thus fully discussed a topic in which only a
part of my readers can be supposed to be interested. My apology is this:
It is obvious and unquestionable that we all owe allegiance to the
Supreme. It is so obvious and unquestionable as to be entirely beyond
the necessity of proof, for it is plain that nothing but such a bond of
union can keep the peace among the millions of distinct intelligences
with which the creation is filled. It is therefore the plain duty of
every man to establish that connection himself and his Maker which the
Bible requires, and to do what he can to bring others to the peace and
happiness of piety. These truths are so plain that they admit of no
discussion and no denial, and it seems to me highly unsafe for any man
to neglect or to postpone the performance of the duty which arises from
them. A still greater hazard is incurred when such a man, having forty
or fifty fellow-beings almost entirely under his influence, leads them,
by his example, away from their Maker, and so far that he must, in many
cases, hopelessly confirm the separation. With these views, I could not,
when writing on the duties of a teacher of the young, refrain from
bringing distinctly to view this which has so imperious a claim.