CHAPTER V.

RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE.

In consequence of the unexampled religious liberty enjoyed in this

country, for which it is happily distinguished above all other countries

on the globe, there necessarily results a vast variety of religious

sentiment and action. We cannot 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 French nation has been, for some time, 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, opposed to the revolutionary projects so

constantly growing up there, and from principle and feeling, strongly

attached to a monarchial 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 workshop, and

is astonished to find the lathe standing still, and the boys gathered

round the republican turner, who is telling 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 Frenchman 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

Quakers,--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 entrusted 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 the 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 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 Quaker

children, whose parents dislike forms and ceremonies of every kind, in

religion, and his duty would be changed altogether. So, if a Roman

Catholic is entrusted 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 and judiciously 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 pretence 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 Saviour_. 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 _Saviour_,--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 Saviour 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 entrusted children to his care.

So much ground, it seems, the teacher may occupy, by common consent, in

New-England, 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, towards leading his pupils to fear God, and to obey his

commands, with the cordial consent of parents, as he can here.[B]

[Footnote B: 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

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 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 and

pleasantly accomplish. 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 cannot 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. He 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 four years' experience,

I would recommend at this exercise, is sitting, with the heads reclined

upon the desks. The prayer, besides being short, should be simple in its

language, and specific in its petitions. A degree of particularity and

familiarity, which might 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 has 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

cannot 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,--i. e. such feelings as penitence for sin, trust in God, and love

for the Saviour,--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 mind such occurrences as may come under your own

personal observation, when travelling, 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': And indeed all his are arranged in the order

of their length."

"Yes sir."

"What comes next?"

"John's."

"Yes, and they arranged in the order of their length. Do you now

understand the principles of the arrangement of the epistles?"

"Yes sir."

"I should like to have any of you who are interested in it, 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 travelling 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 a 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 visiters 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 towards 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's 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 seem to care much about it. She was evidently happy

then, and believed she should continue so. She had been penitent for her

sins, and 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._ 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 connexion 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 connexion in the sentences in which they hear them; and by long

practice, they acquire an astonishing facility of doing this. 'Tis 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 connexion does not do it for them. So that instead

of _coming down_ to the language of childhood, he ought rather to go as

far away from it, as he possibly can, without leaving his pupils behind

him.

(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 dulness 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, &c."

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 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 want you to go to your seat and

transcribe for me 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 25 cents.'

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 as well as not?'

"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, we shall

remember 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 want you to set down

and see if you cannot do it better than any of them. No one of them

knows that any other is writing, except you, but after the others are

all 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 despatched 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 plague 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 he has been watching you all the time, thus far, and 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, because 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 reads 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 some 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 principles 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

for ever, 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 pretences 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 cannot know, and you cannot 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 of it 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 Saviour, 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 cannot know; you cannot 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 Saviour said, "By their fruits ye shall know

them," and it is safest to follow his direction.

By the word fruits, however, our Saviour 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 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 connexion between 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.

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