CHAPTER VIII.

REPORTS OF CASES.

There is perhaps no way, by which a writer can more effectually explain

his views on the subject of education, than by presenting a great

variety of actual cases, whether real or imaginary, and describing

particularly the course of treatment he would recommend in each. This

method of communicating knowledge is very extensively resorted to in the

medical profession, where writers detail particular cases, and report

the symptoms and the treatment for each succeeding day, so that the

reader may almost fancy himself actually a visiter at the sick bed, and

the nature and effects of the various prescriptions become fixed in the

mind, with almost as much distinctness and permanency as actual

experience would give.

This principle has been kept in view, the reader may perhaps think, too

closely, in all the chapters of this volume; almost every point brought

up, having been illustrated by anecdotes and narratives. I propose,

however, devoting one chapter now, to presenting a number of

miscellaneous cases, without any attempt to arrange them. Sometimes the

case will be merely stated, the reader being left to draw the inference;

at others, such remarks will be added as the case suggests. All will

however be intended to answer some useful purpose, either to exhibit

good or bad management and its consequences, or to bring to view some

trait of human nature, as it exhibits itself in children, which it may

be desirable for the teacher to know. Let it be understood, however,

that these cases are not selected with reference to their being strange,

or extraordinary. They are rather chosen because they are common, i. e.

they, or cases similar, will be constantly occurring to the teacher,

and reading such a chapter will be the best substitute for experience

which the teacher can have. Some are descriptions of literary exercises

or plans which the reader can adopt in classes, or with a whole school;

others are cases of discipline,--good or bad management,

which the teacher can imitate or avoid. The stories are from various

sources, and are the results of the experience of several individuals.

1. HATS AND BONNETS. The master of a district school was accidentally

looking out of the window one day, and he saw one of the boys throwing

stones at a hat, which was put up for that purpose upon the fence. He

said nothing about it at the time, but made a memorandum of the

occurrence, that he might bring it before the school, at the proper

time. When the hour, set apart for attending to the general business of

the school, had arrived, and all were still, he said,

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

or wrong?"

There were one or two faint murmurs which sounded like "_Wrong_," but

the boys generally made no answer.

"Perhaps it depends a little upon the question whose hat it was. Do you

think it does depend upon that?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, suppose then it was not his own hat, and he was throwing stones

at it without the owner's consent, would it be plain in that case,

whether he was doing right or wrong?"

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

"Suppose it was his own hat, would he have been right? Has a boy a right

to do what he pleases with his own hat?"

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

"I do not know whose hat it was. If the boy who did it is willing to

rise and tell me, it will help us to decide this question."

The boy knowing that a severe punishment was not in such a case to be

anticipated, and in fact, apparently pleased with the idea of

exonerating himself from the blame of wilfully injuring the property of

another, rose and said,

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

"Well," said the master, "I am glad you are willing to tell frankly how

it was; but let us look at this case. There are two senses in which a

hat may be said to belong to any person. It may belong to him because he

bought it and paid for it, or it may belong to him because it fits him,

and he wears it. In other words a person may have a hat, as his

property, or he may have it only as a part of his dress. Now you see,

that according to the first of these senses, all the hats in this

school, belong to your fathers. There is not in fact a single boy in

this school who has a hat of his own."

The boys laughed.

"Is not this the fact?"

"Yes sir."

"It certainly is so, though I suppose James did not consider it. Your

fathers bought your hats. They worked for them, and paid for them. You

are only the wearers, and consequently every generous boy, and in fact

every honest boy, will be careful of the property which is intrusted to

him, but which strictly speaking is not his own."

2. MISTAKES. A wide difference must always be made between mistakes

arising from carelessness, and those resulting from circumstances beyond

control; such as want of sufficient data, &c. The former are always

censurable; the latter never; for they may be the result of correct

reasoning from insufficient data, and it is the reasoning only for which

the child is responsible.

"What do you suppose a prophet is?" said an instructer to a class of

little boys. The word occurred in their reading lesson.

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

"If a man should sell a yoke of oxen, and get more for them than they

are worth, he would be a prophet."

"Yes," said the instructer, "that is right, that is one kind of

_profit_, but this is another and a little different," and he proceeded

to explain the word, and the difference of the spelling.

This child had, without doubt, heard of some transaction of the kind

which he described, and had observed that the word _profit_ was applied

to it. Now the care which he had exercised in attending to it at the

time, and remembering it when the same word, (for the difference in the

spelling he of course knew nothing about,) occurred again, was really

commendable. The fact, which is a mere accident, that we affix very

different significations to the same sound, was unknown. The fault, if

anywhere, was in the language and not in him; for he reasoned correctly

from the data he possessed, and he deserved credit for it.

3. TARDINESS. "My duty to this school," said a teacher to his pupils,

"demands, as I suppose you all admit, that I should require you all to

be here punctually at the time appointed for the commencement of the

school. I have done nothing on this subject yet, for I wished to see

whether you would not come early, on principle. I wish now however to

inquire in regard to this subject, and to ascertain how many have been

tardy, and to consider what must be done hereafter."

He made the inquiries and ascertained pretty nearly how many had been

tardy, and how often within a week.

The number was found to be so great, that the scholars admitted that

something ought to be done.

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

remedy the difficulty?"

There was no answer.

[Transcriber's Note: The footnote marker for the following footnote is

missing.]

[Footnote D: The above, and one or two of the succeeding articles

have been before published, in periodicals.]

"The easiest and pleasantest way to secure punctuality, is for the

scholars to come early of their own accord, upon principle. It is

evident from the reports, that many of you do so; but some do not. Now

there is no other plan which will not be attended with very serious

difficulty, but I am willing to adopt the one which will be pleasantest

to yourselves, if it will be likely to accomplish the object. Has any

one any plan to propose."

There was a pause.

"It would evidently," continued the teacher, "be the easiest for me to

leave this subject, and do nothing about it. It is of no personal

consequence to me, whether you come early or not, but as long as I hold

this office, I must be faithful, and I have no doubt the school

committee, if they knew how many of you were tardy, would think I ought

to do something to diminish the evil.

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

their recess."

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

"There is a great objection to this plan from the fact that a boy is

sometimes necessarily absent, and by this rule he will lose his recess

with the rest, so that the innocent will be punished with the guilty."

"I should think, sir," said William, "that those who are _necessarily_

tardy, might be excused."

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

are."

The boys seemed to be surprised at this remark, as if they thought it

would not be a difficult matter to decide.

"How can I tell?" asked the master.

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

"Yes," said the teacher, "but here are fifteen or twenty boys tardy this

morning; now how long would it take me to hear their excuses, and

understand each case thoroughly, so that I could really tell whether

they were tardy from good reasons or not?"

No answer.

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

"Yes sir."

"It would undoubtedly, and even then I could not in many cases tell. It

would take fifteen minutes at least. I cannot do this in school-hours,

for I have not time, and if I do it in recess, it will consume the whole

of every recess. Now I need the rest of a recess, as well as you, and it

does not seem to me to be just that I should lose the whole of mine,

every day, and spend it in a most unpleasant business, when I take

pains, myself, to come punctually every morning. Would it be just?"

"No sir."

"I think it would be less unjust to deprive all of their recess who are

tardy, for then the loss of a recess by a boy who had not been to blame,

would not be very common, and the evil would be divided among the whole,

but in the plan of my hearing the excuses, it would all come upon one."

After a short pause one of the boys said that they might be required to

bring written excuses.

"Yes that is another plan," said the teacher, "but there are objections

to it. Can any of you think what they are? I suppose you have all been,

either at this school, or at some other, required to bring written

excuses, so that you have seen the plan tried; now have you never

noticed any objection to it?"

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

"Yes," said the teacher, "this is a great objection; it is often very

inconvenient to write. But that is not the greatest difficulty; can any

of you think of any other?"

There was a pause.

"Do you think that these written excuses are, after all, a fair test of

the real reasons for tardiness? I understand that sometimes boys will

tease their fathers or mothers for an excuse, when they do not deserve

it, 'Yes sir,' and sometimes they will loiter about when sent of an

errand before school, knowing that they can get a written excuse when

they might easily have been punctual."

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

"Well, now, if we adopt this plan, some unprincipled boy would always

contrive to have an excuse, whether necessarily tardy or not; and

besides, each parent would have a different principle and a different

opinion as to what was a reasonable excuse, so that there would be no

uniformity, and consequently no justice in the operation of the system."

The boys admitted the truth of this, and as no other plan was

presented, the rule was adopted of requiring all those who were tardy,

to remain in their seats during the recess, whether they were

necessarily tardy or not. The plan very soon diminished the number of

loiterers.

4. HELEN'S LESSON. The possibility of being inflexibly firm in measures,

and at the same time gentle and mild in manners and language, is happily

illustrated in the following description, which is based on an incident

narrated by Mrs. Sherwood.

"Mrs. M. had observed even during the few days that Helen had been under

her care, that she was totally unaccustomed to habits of diligence and

application. After making all due allowance for long indulged habits of

indolence and inattention, she one morning assigned an easy lesson to

her pupil, informing her at the same time, that she should hear it

immediately before dinner. Helen made no objections to the plan, but she

silently resolved not to perform the required task. Being in some

measure a stranger, she thought her aunt would not insist upon perfect

obedience, and besides in her estimation, she was too old to be treated

like a child.

"During the whole morning, Helen exerted herself to be mild and

obliging; her conduct towards her aunt was uncommonly affectionate. By

these, and various other artifices, she endeavored to gain her first

victory. Meanwhile, Mrs. M. quietly pursued her various avocations,

without apparently noticing Helen's conduct. At length dinner hour

arrived; the lesson was called for, and found unprepared. Mrs. M. told

Helen she was sorry she had not got the lesson, and went on to explain

one or two sentences more fully, and concluded, by saying that she hoped

it would be learned before tea-time.

"Helen, finding she was not to come to the table, began to be a little

alarmed. She was acquainted in some measure with the character of her

aunt, still she hoped to be allowed to partake of the dessert as she had

been accustomed to on similar occasions at home, and soon regained her

wonted composure. But the dinner cloth was removed, and there sat Helen,

suffering not a little from hunger; still she would not complain; she

meant to convince her aunt that she was not moved by trifles.

"A walk had been proposed for the afternoon, and as the hour drew near,

Helen made preparations to accompany the party. Mrs. M. reminded her of

her lesson, but she just noticed the remark by a toss of the head, and

was soon in the green fields, apparently the gayest of the gay. After

her return from the excursion, she complained of a head-ache which in

fact she had; she threw herself languidly on the sofa, sighed deeply,

and took up her History.

"Tea was now on the table, and most tempting looked the white loaf. Mrs.

M. again heard the pupil recite, but was sorry to find the lesson still

imperfectly prepared. She left her, saying she thought an half hour's

study would conquer all the difficulties she found in the lesson.

"During all this time, Mrs. M. appeared so perfectly calm, composed, and

even kind, and so regardless of sighs and doleful exclamations, that

Helen entirely lost her equanimity and let her tears flow freely and

abundantly. Her mother was always moved by her tears, and would not her

aunt relent? No. Mrs. M. quietly performed the duties of the table, and

ordered the tea-equipage to be removed. This latter movement brought

Helen to reflection. It is useless to resist, thought she, indeed why

should I wish to. Nothing too much has been required of me. How

ridiculous I have made myself appear, in the eyes of my aunt, and even

of the domestics.

"In less than an hour, she had the satisfaction of reciting her lesson

perfectly; her aunt made no comments on the occasion, but assigned her

the next lesson, and went on sewing. Helen did not expect this; she had

anticipated a refreshing cup of tea, after the long siege. She had

expected that even something nicer than usual would be necessary to

compensate her for past sufferings. At length, worn out by long

continued watching and fasting, she went to the closet, provided herself

with a cracker, and retired to bed to muse deliberately on the strange

character of her aunt.

"Teachers not unfrequently threaten their pupils with some proper

punishment, but when obliged to put the threat into execution, contrive

in some indirect way, to abate its rigor and thus destroy all its

effects. For example, a mother was in the habit, when her little boy ran

beyond his proscribed play-ground, of putting him into solitary

confinement. On such occasions, she was very careful to have some

amusing book, or diverting plaything in a conspicuous part of the room,

and not unfrequently a piece of gingerbread was given to solace the

runaway. The mother thought it very strange her little boy should so

often transgress, when he knew what to expect from such a course of

conduct. The boy was wiser than the mother; he knew perfectly well how

to manage. He could play with the boys beyond the garden gate, and if

detected, to be sure he was obliged to spend a quiet hour in the

pleasant parlor. But this was not intolerable as long as he could expect

a paper of sugar-plums, a cake, or at least something amply to

compensate him for the loss of a game at marbles."

5. COMPLAINTS OF LONG LESSONS. A college officer assigned lessons which

the idle and ignorant members of the class thought too long. They

murmured for a time, and at last openly complained. The other members of

the class could say nothing in behalf of the professor, awed by the

greatest of all fears to a collegian, the fear of being called a

"_fisher_," or a "_blueskin_." The professor paid no attention to the

petitions and complaints which were poured in upon him, and which,

though originated by the idle, all were compelled to vote for. He

coldly, and with uncompromising dignity, went on the excitement in the

class increased, and what is called a college rebellion, with all its

disastrous consequences to the infatuated rebels, ensued.

Another professor had the dexterity to manage in a different way. After

hearing that there was dissatisfaction, he brought up the subject as

follows:--

"I understand, gentlemen, that you consider your lessons too long.

Perhaps I have overrated the abilities of the class, but I have not

intended to assign you more than you can accomplish. I feel no other

interest in the subject, than the pride and pleasure it would give me,

to have my class stand high, in respect to the amount of ground it has

gone over, when you come to examination. I propose, therefore, that you

appoint a committee in whose abilities and judgment you can confide, and

let them examine this subject and report. They might ascertain how much

other classes have done, and how much is expedient for this class to

attempt; and then, by estimating the number of recitations assigned to

this study, they can easily determine what should be the length of the

lessons."

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

6. ENGLISH COMPOSITION. The great prevailing fault of writers in this

country, is an affectation of eloquence. It is almost universally the

fashion to aim not at striking thoughts, simply and clearly expressed,

but at splendid language, glowing imagery, and magnificent periods. It

arises, perhaps, from the fact that public speaking is the almost

universal object of ambition, and consequently, both at school and at

college, nothing is thought of but oratory. Vain attempts at oratory,

result in nine cases out of ten, in grandiloquence and empty

verbiage;--common thoughts expressed in pompous periods.

The teacher should guard against this, and assign to children such

subjects as are within the field of childish observation. A little skill

on his part will soon determine the question which kind of writing shall

prevail in his school. The following specimens, both written with some

skill, will illustrate the two kinds of writing alluded to. Both were

written by pupils of the same age, twelve; one a boy, the other a girl.

The subjects were assigned by the teacher. I need not say that the

following was the writer's first attempt at composition, and that it is

printed without alteration.

THE PAINS OF A SAILOR'S LIFE.

The joyful sailor embarks on board of his ship, the sails are

spread to catch the playful gale, swift as an arrow he cuts the

rolling wave. A few days thus sporting on the briny wave, when

suddenly the sky is overspread with clouds, the rain descends in

torrents, the sails are lowered, the gale begins, the vessel is

carried with great velocity, and the shrouds unable to support the

tottering mast, gives way to the furious tempest; the vessel is

drove among the rocks, is sprung aleak, the sailor works at the

pumps, till, faint and weary, is heard from below, six feet of

water in the hold, the boats are got ready, but before they are

into them, the vessel dashed against a reef of rocks, some in

despair throw themselves into the sea, others get on the rocks

without any clothes or provisions, and linger a few days, perhaps

weeks or months, living on shell fish or perhaps taken up by some

ship. Others get on pieces of the wreck, and perhaps be cast on

some foreign country, where perhaps he may be taken by the natives,

and sold into slavery where he never more returns.

In regard to the following specimen, it should be stated that when the

subject was assigned, the pupil was directed to see how precisely she

could imitate the language and conversation which two little children

really lost in the woods would use. While writing, therefore, her mind

was in pursuit of the natural, and the simple, not of the eloquent.

TWO CHILDREN LOST IN THE WOODS.

_Emily._ Look here! see how many berries I've got. I don't believe

you've got so many.

_Charles._ Yes, I'm sure I have. My basket's most full; and if we

hurry, we shall get ever so many before we go home. So pick away as

fast as you can, Emily.

_Emily._ There mine is full. Now we'll go and find some flowers for

mother. You know somebody told us there were some red ones, close

to that rock.

_Charles._ Well, so we will. We'll leave our baskets here, and come

back and get them.

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

_Charles._ Poh! I can find the way back. I only want a quarter to

seven years old, and I shan't lose myself, I know.

_Emily._ Well! we've got flowers enough, and now I'm tired and want

to go home.

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

baskets.

_Emily._ Where do you think they are? We've been looking a great

while for them. I know we are lost, for when we went after the

flowers we only turned once, and coming back, we have turned three

times.

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

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

_Charles._ Well so do. Oh, Emily! here's a brook, and I am sure we

didn't pass any brook, going.

_Emily._ Oh, dear! we must be lost. Hark! Charles! didn't you hear

that dreadful noise just now? Wasn't it a bear?

_Charles._ Poh! I should love to see a bear here. I guess if he

should come near me, I would give him one good slap that would make

him feel pretty bad. I could kill him at the first hit.

_Emily._ I should like to see you taking hold of a bear. Why didn't

you know bears were stronger than men? But only see how dark it

grows; we shan't see Ma' to-night, I'm afraid.

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

_Emily._ O Charles, do you believe we shall ever find the way out

of this dreadful long wood?

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

_Emily._ Well, (screaming) Ma'! Ma'!

_Charles._ (screaming also) Pa'! Pa'!

_Emily._ Oh, dear! there's the sun setting. It will be dreadfully

dark by and by, won't it?

We have given enough for a specimen. The composition though faulty in

many respects, illustrates the point we had in view.

7. INSINCERE CONFESSION. An assistant in a school informed the Principal

that she had some difficulty in preserving order in a certain class,

composed of small children. The Principal accordingly went into the

class, and something like the following dialogue ensued.

"Your teacher informs me," said the Principal, "that there is not

perfect order in this class. Now if you are satisfied that there has not

been order, and wish to help me discover and correct the fault, we can

do it very easily. If, on the other hand, you do not wish to co-operate

with me, it will be a little more difficult for me to correct it, and I

must take a different course. Now I wish to know, at the outset, whether

you do or do not wish to help me."

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

"I do not wish you to assist me, unless you really and honestly desire

it yourselves; and if you undertake to do it, you must do it honestly.

The first thing which will be necessary, will be an open and thorough

exposure of all which has been wrong, and this you know will be

unpleasant. But I will put the question to vote, by asking how many are

willing that I should know, entirely and fully, all that they have done

in this class, that has been wrong."

Very nearly all the hands were raised at once, promptly, and the others

were gradually brought up, though with more or less of hesitation.

"Are you willing, not only to tell me yourselves what you have done, but

also, in case any one has forgotten something which she has done, that

others should tell me of it?"

The hands were all raised.

After obtaining thus from the class a distinct and universal expression

of willingness that all the facts should be made known, the Principal

called upon all those who had any thing to state, to raise their hands,

and those who raised them, had opportunity to say what they wished. A

great number of very trifling incidents were mentioned, such as could

not have produced any difficulty in the class, and consequently could

not have been the real instances of disorder alluded to. Or at least, it

was evident if they were, that in the statement, they must have been so

palliated and softened, that a really honest confession had not been

made. This result might in such a case, have been expected. Such is

human nature, that in nine cases out of ten, unless such a result had

been particularly guarded against, it would have inevitably followed.

Not only will such a result follow in individual cases like this, but

unless the teacher watches and guards against it, it will grow into a

habit. I mean boys will get a sort of an idea that it is a fine thing to

confess their faults, and by a show of humility and frankness will

deceive their teacher, and perhaps themselves, by a sort of

acknowledgement, which in fact exposes nothing of the guilt which the

transgressor professes to expose. A great many cases occur, where

teachers are pleased with the confession of faults, and scholars

perceive it, and the latter get into the habit of coming to the teacher,

when they have done something which they think may get them into

difficulty, and make a sort of half confession, which, by bringing

forward every palliating circumstance, and suppressing every thing of

different character, keeps entirely out of view all the real guilt of

the transgression. The criminal is praised by the teacher for the

frankness and honesty of the confession, and his fault is freely

forgiven. He goes away therefore well satisfied with himself, when in

fact he has been only submitting to a little mortification, voluntarily,

to avoid the danger of a greater; much in the same spirit with that

which leads a man to receive the small-pox by inoculation, to avoid the

danger of taking it in the natural way.

The teacher who accustoms his pupils to confess their faults,

voluntarily, ought to guard carefully against this danger. When such a

case as the one just described occurs, it will afford a favorable

opportunity of showing distinctly to pupils the difference between an

honest and an hypocritical confession. In this instance; the teacher

proceeded thus;

"Now I wish to ask you one more question, which I wish you all to answer

by your votes, honestly. It is this. Do you think that the real disorder

which has been in this class, that is, the real cases which you referred

to, when you stated to me, that you thought that the class was not in

good order, have been now really exposed, so that I honestly and fully

understand the case? How many suppose so?"

Not a single hand was raised.

"How many of you think, and are willing to avow your opinion, that I

have _not_ been fully informed of the case?"

A large proportion held up their hands.

"Now it seems the class pretended to be willing that I should know all

the affair. You pretended to be willing to tell me the whole, but when I

call upon you for the information, instead of telling me honestly, you

attempt to amuse me by little trifles, which in reality made no

disturbance, and you omit the things which you know were the real

objects of my inquiries. Am I right in my supposition?"

They were silent. After a moment's pause, one perhaps raised her hand,

and began now to confess something, which she had before concealed.

The teacher however interrupted her, by saying,

"I do not wish to have the confession made now. I gave you all time to

do that, and now I should rather not hear any more about the disorder. I

gave an opportunity to have it acknowledged, but it was not honestly

improved, and now I should rather not hear. I shall probably never know.

"I wished to see whether this class would be honest,--really honest, or

whether they would have the insincerity to pretend to be confessing,

when they were not doing so honestly, so as to get the credit of being

frank and sincere, when in reality they are not so. Now am I not

compelled to conclude that this latter is the case?"

Such an example will make a deep and lasting impression. It will show

that the teacher is upon his guard; and there are very few, so hardened

in deception, that they would not wish that they had been really

sincere, rather than rest under such an imputation.

8. COURT. A pupil, quite young, (says a teacher,) came to me one day

with a complaint that one of her companions had got her seat. There had

been some changes in the seats by my permission, and probably from some

inconsistency in the promises which I had made, there were two claimants

for the same desk. The complainant came to me, and appealed to my

recollection of the circumstance.

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

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

"No," said I, "you forget that I have, every day, arrangements, almost

without number, of such a kind to make, and as soon as I have made one,

I immediately forget all about it."

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

"No; I ordered a dozen new baizes at that time, but I do not remember

who they were for."

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

to do.

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

it, regularly."

"Why, Mr. B.! I do not like to do any thing like that, about it;

besides, I do not know how to write an indictment."

"Oh!" I replied, "they will like to have a good trial. It will make a

new sort of case. All our cases thus far have been for _offences_, that

is what they call criminal cases, and this will be only an examination

of the conflicting claims of two individuals to the same property, and

it will excite a good deal of interest. I think you had better bring it

into court."

She went slowly and thoughtfully to her seat, and presently returned

with an indictment.

"Mr. B. is this right?"

It was as follows:--

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

gave me.

Witnesses. { C. D.

{ E. T.

"Why, ---- ---- yes,--that will do; and yet it is not exactly right. You

see this is what they call a civil case."

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

"No, I don't mean it was civil to take your seat. But this is not a case

where a person is prosecuted for having done anything wrong."

The plaintiff looked a little perplexed, as if she could not understand

how it could be otherwise than wrong, for a girl to usurp her seat.

"I mean, you do not bring it into court, as a case of wrong. You do not

want her to be punished; do you?"

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

punished."

"Well, then, you see, that although she may have done wrong to take your

seat, it is not in that point of view, that you bring it into court. It

is a question about the right of property, and the lawyers call such

cases, _civil_ cases, to distinguish them from cases where persons are

tried for the purpose of being punished for doing wrong. These are

called criminal cases."

The aggrieved party still looked perplexed. "Well, Mr. B." she

continued, "what shall I do? How shall I write it? I cannot say anything

about _civil_, in it, can I?"

A form was given her, which would be proper for the purpose, and the

case was brought forward, and the evidence on both sides examined. The

irritation of the quarrel was soon dissipated, in the amusement of a

semi-serious trial, and both parties good humoredly acquiesced in the

decision.

9. TEACHERS' PERSONAL CHARACTER. Much has been said within a few years,

by writers in the subject of education, in this country, on the

desirableness of raising the business of teaching to the rank of a

learned profession. There is but one way of doing this, and that is

raising the personal characters and attainments of teachers themselves.

Whether an employment is elevated or otherwise in public estimation,

depends altogether on the associations connected with it in the public

mind; and these depend altogether on the characters of the individuals

who are engaged in it. Franklin, by the simple fact that he was a

printer himself, has done more towards giving dignity and respectability

to the employment of printing, than a hundred orations on the intrinsic

excellence of the art. In fact all mechanical employments have, within a

few years risen in rank, in this country, not through the influence of

efforts to impress the community directly with a sense of their

importance, but simply because mechanics themselves have risen in

intellectual and moral character. In the same manner the employment of

the teacher will be raised most effectually in the estimation of the

public, not by the individual who writes the most eloquent oration on

the intrinsic dignity of the art, but by the one who goes forward most

successfully in the exercise of it, and who by his general attainments,

and public character, stands out most fully to the view of the public,

as a well informed, liberal minded, and useful man.

If this is so, and it cannot well be denied, it furnishes every teacher

a strong motive to exertion, for the improvement of his own personal

character. But there is a stronger motive still, in the results which

flow directly to himself, from such efforts. No man ought to engage in

any business which, as mere business, will engross all his time and

attention. The Creator has bestowed upon every one a mind, upon the

cultivation of which, our rank among intelligent beings, our happiness,

our moral and intellectual power, every thing valuable to us, depend.

And after all the cultivation which we can bestow, in this life, upon

this mysterious principle, it will still be in embryo. The progress

which it is capable of making is entirely indefinite. If by ten years of

cultivation, we can secure a certain degree of knowledge and power, by

ten more, we can double, or more than double it, and every succeeding

year of effort, is attended with equal success. There is no point of

attainment where we must stop, or beyond which effort will bring in a

less valuable return.

Look at that teacher, and consider for a moment, his condition. He began

to teach when he was twenty years of age, and now he is forty. Between

the years of fifteen and twenty he made a vigorous effort to acquire

such an education as would fit him for these duties. He succeeded, and

by these efforts he raised himself from being a mere laborer, receiving

for his daily toil a mere daily subsistence, to the respectability and

the comforts of an intellectual pursuit. But this change once produced,

he stops short in his progress. Once seated in his desk, he is

satisfied, and for twenty years he has been going through the same

routine, without any effort to advance or to improve. He does not

reflect that the same efforts, which so essentially altered his

condition and prospects at twenty, would have carried him forward to

higher and higher sources of influence and enjoyment, as long as he

should continue them. His efforts ceased when he obtained a situation as

teacher, at forty dollars a month, and though twenty years have glided

away, he is now exactly what he was then.

There is probably no employment whatever which affords so favorable an

opportunity for personal improvement,--for steady intellectual and moral

progress, as that of teaching. There are two reasons for this.

First, there is time for it. With an ordinary degree of health and

strength, the mind can be vigorously employed at least ten hours a day.

As much as this, is required of students, in many literary institutions.

In fact ten hours to study, seven to sleep, and seven to food, exercise,

and recreation, is perhaps as good an arrangement as can be made; at any

rate, very few persons will suppose that such a plan allows too little

under the latter head. Now six hours is as much as is expected of

teachers under ordinary circumstances, and it is as much as ought ever

to be bestowed. For though he may labor four hours out of school, in

some new field, his health and spirits will soon sink under the burden,

if after his weary labors during the day in school, he gives up his

evenings to the same perplexities and cares. And it is not necessary. No

one who knows any thing of the nature of the human mind, and who will

reflect a moment on the subject, can doubt that a man can make a better

school, by expending six hours labor upon it, which he can go through

with, with some alacrity and ardor, than he can by driving himself on to

ten. Every teacher therefore, who is commencing his work, should begin

with the firm determination of devoting only six hours daily to the

pursuit. Make as good a school, and accomplish as much for it, as you

can in six hours, and let the rest go. When you come from your school

room at night, leave all your perplexities and cares behind you. No

matter what unfinished business or unsettled difficulties remain.

Dismiss them all till another sun shall rise, and the hour of duty for

another day shall come. Carry no school work home with you and do not

talk of your work. You will then get refreshment and rest. Your mind

during the evening will be in a different world from that in which you

have moved during the day. At first this will be difficult. It will be

hard for you, unless your mind is uncommonly well disciplined, to

dismiss all your cares; and you will think, each evening, that some

peculiar emergency demands your attention, _just at that time_, and that

as soon as you have passed the crisis, you will confine yourself to what

you admit are generally reasonable limits. But if you once allow school

with its perplexities and cares to get possession of the rest of the

day, it will keep possession. It will intrude itself into all your

waking thoughts, and trouble you in your dreams. You will lose all

command of your powers, and besides cutting off from yourself all hope

of general intellectual progress, you will in fact destroy your success

as a teacher. Exhaustion, weariness, and anxiety will be your continual

portion, and in such a state, no business can be successfully

prosecuted.

There need be no fear that employers will be dissatisfied, if the

teacher acts upon this principle. If he is faithful and enters with all

his heart into the discharge of his duties during six hours, there will

be something in the ardor, and alacrity, and spirit with which his

duties will be performed, which parents and scholars will both be very

glad to receive, in exchange for the languid, and dull, and heartless

toil, in which the other method must sooner or later result.

* * * * *

If the teacher then, will confine himself to such a portion of time, as

is, in fact, all he can advantageously employ, there will be much left

which can be devoted to his own private employment,--more than is usual

in the other employments of life. In most of these other employments,

there is not the same necessity for limiting the hours which a man may

devote to his business. A merchant, for example, may be employed nearly

all the day, at his counting-room, and so may a mechanic. A physician

may spend all his waking-hours in visiting patients, and feel little

more than healthy fatigue. The reason is that in all these employments,

and in fact in most of the employments of life, there is so much to

diversify, so many little incidents constantly occurring to animate and

relieve, and so much bodily exercise, which alternates with, and

suspends the fatigues of the mind, that the labors may be much longer

continued, and with less cessation, and yet the health not suffer. But

the teacher, while engaged in his work, has his mind continually on the

stretch. There is little to relieve, little respite, and he is almost

entirely deprived of bodily exercise. He must, consequently, limit his

hours of attending to his business, or his health will soon sink under

labors which Providence never intended the human mind to bear.

There is another circumstance which facilitates the progress of the

teacher. It is a fact that all this general progress has a direct and

immediate bearing upon his pursuits. A lawyer may read in an evening an

interesting book of travels, and find nothing to help him with his case,

the next day, in court,--but almost every fact which the teacher thus

learns, will come _at once into use,_ in some of his recitations at

school. We do not mean to imply by this that the members of the legal

profession have not need of a great variety and extent of knowledge;

they doubtless have. It is simply in the _directness_ and _certainty_,

with which the teacher's knowledge may be applied to his purpose, that

the business of teaching has the advantage over every other pursuit.

This fact now has a very important influence in encouraging, and leading

forward the teacher, to make constant intellectual progress, for every

step brings at once a direct reward.

10. THE CHESTNUT BURR. _A story for school-boys._[E] One fine pleasant

morning, in the fall of the year, the master was walking along towards

school, and he saw three or four boys under a large chestnut tree,

gathering chestnuts.

[Footnote E: Originally written for a periodical.]

One of the boys was sitting upon the ground, trying to open some

chestnut burrs, which he had knocked off from the tree. The burrs were

green, and he was trying to open them by pounding them with a stone.

He was a very impatient boy and was scolding, in a loud angry tone,

against the burrs. He did not see, he said, what in the world chestnuts

were made to grow so for. They ought to grow right out in the open air,

like apples, and not have such vile porcupine skins on them,--just to

plague the boys. So saying he struck with all his might a fine large

burr, crushed it to pieces, and then jumped up, using at the same time

profane and wicked words. As soon as he turned round he saw the master

standing very near him. He felt very much ashamed and afraid, and hung

down his head.

"Roger," said the master, (for this boy's name was Roger) "can you get

me a chestnut burr?"

Roger looked up for a moment, to see whether the master was in earnest,

and then began to look around for a burr.

A boy who was standing near the tree, with a red cap full of burrs in

his hand, held out one of them. Roger took the burr and handed it to the

master, who quietly put it into his pocket, and walked away without

saying a word.

As soon as he was gone, the boy with the red cap, said to Roger, "I

expected the master would have given you a good scolding for talking

so."

"The master never scolds," said another boy, who was sitting on a log

pretty near, with a green satchel in his hand, "but you see if he does

not remember it." Roger looked as if he did not know what to think about

it.

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

That afternoon, when the lessons had been all recited, and it was about

time to dismiss the school, the boys put away their books, and the

master read a few verses in the Bible, and then offered a prayer, in

which he asked God to forgive all the sins which any of them had

committed that day, and to take care of them during the night. After

this he asked the boys all to sit down. He then took his handkerchief

out of his pocket, and laid it on the desk, and afterwards he put his

hand into his pocket again; and took out the chestnut burr, and all the

boys looked at it.

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

One of the boys in the back seat, said, in a half whisper, "It is

nothing but a chestnut burr."

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

is this?"

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

"Do you know what it is for?"

"I suppose there are chestnuts in it."

"But what is this rough prickly covering for?"

Lucy did not know.

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

One of the boys said he supposed it was to hold the chestnuts together,

and keep them up on the tree.

"But I heard a boy say," replied the master, "that they ought not to be

made to grow so. The nut itself, he thought, ought to hang alone on the

branches, without any prickly covering,--just as apples do."

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

same boy.

"That is true, but I suppose this boy thought that God could have made

them grow with stems, and that this would have been better than to have

them in burrs."

After a little pause the master said he would explain to them what the

chestnut burr was for, and wished them all to listen attentively.

"How much of the chestnut is good to eat, William?" asked he, looking at

a boy before him.

"Only the meat."

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

"All summer I suppose, it is growing."

"Yes; it begins early in the summer and gradually swells and grows until

it has become of full size and is ripe, in the fall. Now suppose there

was a tree out here near the school-house, and the chestnut meats should

grow upon it without any shell or covering, suppose too that they should

taste like good ripe chestnuts at first, when they were very small. Do

you think they would be safe?"

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

to grow."

"Well, what harm would there be in that; would it not be as well to have

the chestnuts early in the summer, as to have them in the fall?"

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

"There would not be so much meat in the chestnuts, if they were eaten

before they had time to grow."

"Right," said the master, "but would not the boys know this, and so all

agree to let the little chestnuts stay, and not eat them while they were

small?"

William said he thought they would not. If the chestnuts were good, he

was afraid they would pick them off and eat them, if they were small.

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

"Here then," said the master, "is one reason for having prickles around

the chestnuts when they are small. But then it is not necessary to have

all chestnuts guarded from boys in this way; a great many of the trees

are in the woods, which the boys do not see; what good do the burrs do

in these trees?"

The boys hesitated. Presently the boy who had the green satchel under

the tree with Roger, who was sitting in one corner of the room, said,

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

"And besides," continued he after thinking a moment, "I should suppose

if the meat of the chestnut had no covering, the rain might wet it and

make it rot, or the sun might dry and wither it."

"Yes," said the master, "these are very good reasons why the nut should

be carefully guarded. First the meats are packed away in a hard brown

shell, which the water cannot get through; this keeps it dry, and away

from dust, and other things which might injure it. Then several nuts

thus protected grow closely together inside this green prickly covering;

which spreads over them and guards them from the larger animals and the

boys. Where the chestnut gets its full growth and is ripe, this covering

you know splits open, and the nuts drop out, and then any body can get

them and eat them."

The boys were then all satisfied that it was better that chestnuts

should grow in burrs.

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

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

The boy with the green satchel said that apples had a smooth, tight

skin, which kept out the wet, but he did not see how they were guarded

from animals.

The master said is was by their taste. "They are hard and sour before

they are full grown, and so the taste is not pleasant, and nobody wants

to eat them,--except sometimes a few foolish boys, and these are

punished by being made sick. When the apples are full grown they change

from sour to sweet, and become mellow; then they can be eaten. Can you

tell me of any other fruits which are preserved in this way?"

One boy answered, "Strawberries and blackberries," and another said,

"Peaches and pears."

Another boy asked why the peach-stone was not outside the peach, so as

to keep it from being eaten. But the master said he would explain this

another time. Then he dismissed the scholars, after asking Roger to wait

until the rest had gone, as he wished to see him alone.

11. THE SERIES OF WRITING LESSONS. c.[F] Very many pupils soon become

weary of the dull and monotonous business of writing, unless some plans

are devised, to give interest and variety to the exercise, and on this

account, this branch of education, in which improvement may be most

rapid, is often the last and most tedious to be acquired.

[Footnote F: The articles to which this letter is prefixed were

communicated for the work, by different teachers at the request of the

author.]

A teacher, by adopting the following plan, succeeded in awakening a

great degree of interest in this subject, and consequently, of promoting

rapid improvement. The plan was this; he prepared, on a large sheet of

paper, a series of lessons in coarse hand, beginning with straight

lines, and proceeding to the elementary parts of the various letters,

and finally to the letters themselves. This paper was posted up in a

part of the room accessible to all.

The writing-books were made of three sheets of fool's-cap paper, folded

into a convenient size, which was to be ruled by each pupil; for it was

thought important that each one should learn this art. Every pupil in

school then, being furnished with one of these writing books, was

required to commence this series, and to practice each lesson until he

could write it well; then, and not till then, he was permitted to pass

to the next. A few brief directions were given under each lesson, on

the large sheet. For example, under the line of straight marks, which

constituted the first lesson, was written as follows:

_Straight, equidistant, parallel, smooth, well terminated_

These directions were to call the attention of the pupil to the

excellences which he must aim at, and when he supposed he had secured

them, his book was to be presented to the teacher for examination. If

approved the word _Passed_, or afterwards simply _P._ was written under

the line, and he could then proceed to the next lesson. Other requisites

were necessary besides the correct formation of the letters, to enable

one to pass; for example, the page must not be soiled or blotted, no

paper must be wasted, and, in no case, a leaf torn out. As soon as _one

line_ was written in the manner required, the scholar was allowed to

pass; in a majority of cases however, not less than a page would be

practised, and in many instances a sheet would be covered, before one

line could be produced which would be approved.

One peculiar excellency of this method was, that although the whole

school were working under a regular and systematic plan, individuals

could go on independently; that is, the progress of no scholar was

retarded by that of his companion; the one more advanced, might easily

pass the earlier lessons in few days, while the others would require

weeks of practice to acquire the same degree of skill.

During the writing hour, the scholars would practice, each at the lesson

where he left off before, and at a particular time, each day, the books

were brought from the regular place of deposit, and laid before the

teacher for examination. Without some arrangement for an examination of

all the books together, the teacher would be liable to interruption at

any time, from individual questions and requests, which would consume

much time, and benefit only a few.

When a page of writing could not pass, a brief remark, calling the

attention of the pupil to the faults which prevented it, was sometimes

made in pencil at the bottom of the page. In other cases, the fault was

of such a character as to require full and minute oral directions to the

pupil. At last, to facilitate the criticism of the writing, a set of

arbitrary marks; indicative of the various faults, was devised, and

applied, as occasion might require, to the writing books, by means of

red ink.

These marks, which were very simple in their character, were easily

remembered, for there was generally some connexion between the sign and

the thing signified. For example; the mark denoting that letters were

too short, was simply lengthening them in red ink. A faulty curve was

denoted, by making a new curve over the old one, &c. The following are

the principal criticisms and directions for which marks were contrived.

Strokes rough.

Curve wrong.

Bad termination.

Too slanting, and the reverse.

Too broad, and the reverse.

Not parallel.

Form of the letter bad.

Large stroke made too fine, and the reverse.

Too tall, or too short.

Stems not straight.

Careless work.

Paper wasted.

Almost well enough to pass.

Bring your book to the teacher.

Former fault not corrected.

A catalogue of these marks, with an explanation, was made out and placed

where it was accessible to all, and by means of them the books could be

very easily and rapidly, but thoroughly criticised.

After the plan had gone on for some time, and its operation was fully

understood, the teacher gave up the business of examining the books into

the hands of a Committee, appointed by him from among the older and more

advanced pupils. That the Committee might be unbiased in their judgment,

they were required to examine and decide upon the books, without knowing

the names of the writers. Each scholar was indeed required to place her

name on the right hand upper corner of every page of her writing-book,

for the convenience of the distributors; but this corner was turned

down, when the book was brought in, that it might not be seen by the

Committee.

This Committee were entrusted with plenary powers, and there was no

appeal from their decision. In case they exercised their authority in an

improper way, or failed on any account to give satisfaction, they were

liable to impeachment, but while they continued in office, they were to

be strictly obeyed.

This plan went on successfully for three months, and with very little

diminution of interest. The whole school went regularly through the

lessons in coarse hand, and afterwards through a similar series in fine

hand, and improvement in this branch was thought to be greater than at

any former period in the same length of time.

The same principle of arranging the several steps of an art or a study

into a series of lessons, and requiring the pupil to pass regularly from

one to the other, might easily be applied to other studies, and would

afford a pleasant variety.

12. THE CORRESPONDENCE. A master of a district school was walking

through the room, with a large rule in his hands, and as he came up

behind two small boys, he observed that they were playing with some

papers. He struck them once or twice, though not very severely on the

head, with the rule which he had in his hand. Tears started from the

eyes of one. They were called forth by a mingled feeling of grief,

mortification, and pain. The other who was of "sterner stuff," looked

steadily into the master's face, and when his back was turned, shook his

fist at him and laughed in defiance.

Another teacher seeing a similar case, did nothing. The boys when they

saw him; hastily gathered up their playthings and put them away. An hour

or two after, a little boy who sat near the master, brought them a note

addressed to them both. They opened it and read as follows.

To Edward and John,

I observed, when I passed you to-day, from your concerned looks,

and your hurried manner of putting something into your desk, that

you were doing something that you knew was wrong. When you attempt

to do any thing whatever, which conscience tells you is wrong, you

only make yourself uneasy and anxious while you do it, and then you

are forced to resort to concealment and deception, when you see me

coming. You would be a great deal happier, if you would always be

doing your duty, and then you would never be afraid.

Your affectionate teacher, ---- ----.

As the teacher was arranging his papers in his desk, at the close of

school, he found a small piece of paper neatly folded up in the form of

a note, and addressed to him. He read as follows,

Dear teacher,

We are very much obliged to you for writing us a note. We were

making a paper box. We know it was wrong, and are determined not to

do so any more. We hope you will forgive us.

Your pupils,

Edward,

John.

Which of these teachers understood human nature best?

13. WEEKLY REPORTS. The plan described by the following article, which

was furnished by a teacher for insertion here, was originally adopted,

so far as I know, in a school on the Kennebec. I have adopted it with

great advantage.

* * * * *

c. A teacher had one day been speaking to her scholars of certain cases

of slight disorder in the school, which, she remarked, had been

gradually creeping in, and which, she thought, it devolved upon the

scholars, by systematic efforts, to repress. She enumerated instances of

disorder in the arrangement of the rooms, leaving the benches out of

their places, throwing waste papers upon the floor, having the desk in

disorder, inside, spilling water upon the entry floor, disorderly

deportment, such as too loud talking or laughing in recess, or in the

intermission at noon, or when coming to school, and making unnecessary

noise in going to, or returning from recitations.

"I have a plan to propose," said the teacher, "which I think may be the

pleasantest way of promoting a reform, in things of this kind. It is

this. Let several of your number be chosen a Committee to prepare,

statedly--perhaps as often as once a week,--a written report of the

state of the school. The report might be read before the school at the

close of each week. The Committee might consist in the whole, of seven

or eight, or even of eleven or twelve individuals who should take the

whole business into their hands. This Committee might appoint

individuals of their number, to write, in turn, each week. By this

arrangement, it would not be known to the school generally, who are the

writers of any particular report, if the individuals wish to be

anonymous. Two individuals might be appointed at the beginning of the

week, who should feel it their business to observe particularly the

course of things from day to day, with reference to the report.

Individuals not members of the Committee, can render assistance by any

suggestions they may present to this Committee. These should however

generally be made in writing."

"Subjects for such a report will be found to suggest themselves very

abundantly, though you may not perhaps think so at first. The Committee

may be empowered, not only to state the particulars in which things are

going wrong, but the methods by which they may be made right. Let them

present us with any suggestions they please. If we do not like them, we

are not obliged to adopt them. For instance, it is generally the case

whenever a recitation is attended in the corner yonder, that an end of

one of the benches is put against the door, so as to occasion a serious

interruption to the exercises when a person wishes to come in or go out.

It would come within the province of the Committee to attend to such a

case as this, that is, to bring it up in the report. The remedy in such

a case is a very simple one. Suppose however, that instead of the

_simple_ remedy, our Committee should propose that the classes reciting

in the said corner should be dissolved and the studies abolished. We

should know the proposal was an absurd one; but then it would do no

hurt;--we should have only to reject it."

"Again, besides our faults, let our Committee notice the respects in

which we are doing particularly well, that we may be encouraged to go on

doing well, or even to do better. If they think for example, that we are

deserving of credit for the neatness with which books are kept,--for

their freedom from blots or scribblings, or dog's-ears, by which

school-books are so commonly defaced, let them tell us so. And the same

of any other excellence."

With the plan as thus presented, the scholars were very much pleased. It

was proposed by one individual that such a Committee should be appointed

immediately, and a report prepared for the ensuing week. This was done.

The Committee were chosen by ballot. The following may be taken as a

specimen of their reports.

WEEKLY REPORT.

'The Committee appointed to write the weekly report have noticed

several things which they think wrong. In the first place there

have been a greater number of tardy scholars, during the past week

than usual. Much of this tardiness we suppose is owing to the

interest felt in building the bower; but we think this business

ought to be attended to only in play hours: If only one or two come

in late when we are reading in the morning, or after we have

composed ourselves to study at the close of the recess, every

scholar must look up from her book,--we do not say they ought to do

so, but only that they will do so. However, we anticipate an

improvement in this respect, as we know "a word to the wise is

sufficient."

'In the two back rows we are sorry to say that we have noticed

whispering. We know that this fact will very much distress our

Teacher, as she expects assistance, and not trouble from our older

scholars. It is not our business to reprove any one's misconduct,

but it is our duty to mention it, however disagreeable it may be.

We think the younger scholars during the past week have much

improved in this respect. Only three cases of whispering among them

have occurred to our knowledge.

'We remember some remarks made a few weeks ago, by our Teacher, on

the practice of prompting each other in the classes. We wish she

would repeat them, for we fear that by some they are forgotten. In

the class in Geography, particularly in the questions on the map,

we have noticed sly whispers, which we suppose were the hints of

some kind friend designed to refresh the memory of her less

attentive companion. We propose that the following question be now

put to vote. Shall the practice of prompting in the classes be any

longer continued?

'We would propose that we have a composition exercise _this_ week

similar to the one on Thursday last. It was very interesting, and

we think all would be willing to try their thinking powers once

more. We would propose also that the readers of the compositions

should sit near the centre of the room, as last week many fine

sentences escaped the ears of those seated in the remote corners.

'We were requested by a very public-spirited individual to mention

once more the want of three nails, for bonnets in the entry. Also,

to say that the air from the broken pane of glass on the east side

of the room, is very unpleasant to these who sit near.

'Proposed that the girls who exhibited so much taste and ingenuity

in the arrangement of the festoons of evergreen, and tumblers of

flowers around the Teacher's desk, be now requested to remove the

faded roses and drooping violets. We have gazed on these sad

emblems long enough.

'Finally, proposed that greater care be taken by those who stay at

noon, to place their dinner baskets in proper places. The contents

of more than one, were partly strewed upon the entry floor this

morning.'

If such a measure as this is adopted, it should not be continued

uninterrupted for a very long time. Every thing of this sort should be

occasionally changed, or it sooner or later becomes only a form.

14. THE SHOPPING EXERCISE. c. I have often when going a shopping found

difficulty and trouble in making change. I could never calculate very

readily and in the hurry and perplexity of the moment, I was always

making mistakes. I have heard others often make the same complaint, and

I resolved to try the experiment of regularly teaching children to make

change. I had a bright little class in Arithmetic, who were always ready

to engage with interest in any thing new, and to them I proposed my

plan. It was to be called the Shopping Exercise. I first requested each

individual to write something upon her slate, which she would like to

buy, if she was going a shopping, stating the quantity she wished and

the price of it. To make the first lesson as simple as possible, I

requested no one to go above ten, either in the quantity or price. When

all were ready, I called upon some one to read what she had written. Her

next neighbor was then requested to tell us how much the purchase would

amount to; then the first one named a bill, which she supposed to be

offered in payment, and the second showed what change was needed. A

short specimen of the exercise will probably make it clearer than mere

description.

_Mary._ Eight ounces of candy at seven cents.

_Susan._ Fifty-six cents.

_Mary._ One dollar.

_Susan._ Forty-four cents.

_Susan._ Nine yards of lace at eight cents.

_Anna._ Seventy-two cents.

_Susan._ Two dollars.

_Anna._ One dollar and twenty-eight cents.

_Anna._ Three pieces of tape at five cents.

_Jane._ Fifteen cents.

_Anna._ Three dollars.

_Jane_. Eighty-five cents.

_Several voices._ Wrong.

_Jane._ Two dollars and eighty-five cents.

_Jane._ Six pictures at eight cents.

_Sarah._ Forty-two cents.

_Several voices._ Wrong.

_Sarah._ Forty-eight cents.

_Jane._ One dollar.

_Sarah._ Sixty-two cents.

_Several voices._ Wrong.

_Sarah._ Fifty-two cents.

It will be perceived that the same individual who names the article and

the price, names also the bill which she would give in payment, and the

one who sits next her, who calculated the amount, calculated also the

change to be returned. She then proposed her example to the one next in

the line, with whom the same course was pursued, and thus it passed down

the class.

The exercise went on for some time in this way, till the pupils had

become so familiar with it, that I thought it best to allow them to take

higher numbers. They were always interested in it, and made great

improvement in a short time, and I, myself, derived great advantage from

listening to them.

There is one more circumstance, I will add, which may contribute to the

interest of this account. While the class were confined in what they

purchased, to the number ten, they were sometimes inclined to turn the

exercise into a frolic. The variety of articles which they could find

costing less than ten cents was so small, that for the sake of getting

something new, they would propose examples really ludicrous, such as

these. Three meeting-houses at two cents. Four pianos at nine cents. But

I soon found that if I allowed this at all, then attention was diverted

from the main object, and occupied in seeking the most diverting and

curious examples.

15. ARTIFICES IN RECITATIONS. c. The teacher of a small, newly

established school, had all of his scholars classed together in some of

their studies. At recitations he usually sat in the middle of the room,

while the scholars occupied the usual places at their desks, which were

arranged around the sides. In the recitation in Rhetoric, the teacher,

after a time, observed that one or two of the class seldom answered

appropriately the questions which came to them; but yet, were always

ready with some kind of answer--generally an exact quotation of the

words of the book. Upon noticing these individuals more particularly, he

was convinced that their books were open before them, in some concealed

situation. Another practice not uncommon in the class, was that of

_prompting_ each other, either by whispers or writing. The teacher took

no notice publicly of these practices, for some time, until at the close

of an uncommonly good recitation, he remarked, "Well, I think we have

had a fine recitation to-day. It is one of the pleasantest things I ever

do, to hear a lesson that is learned as well as this. Do you think it

would be possible for us to have as good an exercise every day?" "Yes

sir," answered several faintly. "Do you think it would be reasonable for

me to expect of every member of the class, that she should always be

able to recite all her lessons, without ever missing a single question?"

"No sir," answered all. "I do not expect it," said the teacher. "All I

wish is, that each of you should be faithful in your efforts to prepare

your lessons. I wish you to study from a sense of duty, and for the sake

of your own improvement. You know I do not punish you for failures. I

have no going up or down, no system of marking. Your only reward when

you have made faithful preparation for a recitation, is the feeling of

satisfaction which you will always experience; and when you have been

negligent, your only punishment is a sort of uneasy feeling of

self-reproach. I do not expect you all to be invariably prepared with

every question of your lessons. Sometimes you will be unavoidably

prevented from studying them, and at other times, when you have studied

them very carefully, you may have forgotten, or you may fail from some

misapprehension of the meaning in some cases. Do not, in such a case,

feel troubled because you may not have appeared as well as some

individual who has not been half as faithful as yourself. If you have

done your duty that is enough. On the other hand, you ought to feel no

better satisfied with yourselves when your lesson has not been studied

well, because you may have happened to know the parts which came to you.

Have I _done_ well should always be the question, not have I managed to

_appear_ well?

"I will say a word here," continued the teacher, "upon a practice, which

I have known to be very common in some schools, and which I have been

sorry to notice occasionally in this. I mean that of prompting, or

helping each other along in some way, at recitations. Now, where a

severe punishment is the consequence of a failure, there might seem to

be some reasonableness in helping your companions out of difficulty,

though even then, such tricks are departures from honorable dealing. But

especially when there is no purpose to be served but that of appearing

to know more than you do, it certainly must be considered a very mean

kind of artifice. I think I have sometimes observed an individual to be

prompted, where evidently the assistance was not desired, and even where

it was not needed. To whisper to an individual the answer to a question,

is sometimes to pay her rather a poor compliment, at least; for it is

the same as saying, 'I am a better scholar than you are; let me help you

along a little.'

"Let us then hereafter, have only fair, open, honest dealings with each

other, no attempts to appear to advantage by little artful

manoeuvering;--no prompting,--no peeping into books. Be faithful and

conscientious, and then banish anxiety for your success. Do you not

think you shall find this the pleasantest course?"--"Yes sir," answered

every scholar. "Are you willing to pledge yourselves to adopt it?" "Yes

sir." "Those who are, may raise their hands," said the teacher. Every

hand was raised; and the pledge, there was evidence to believe, was

honorably sustained.

16. KEEPING RESOLUTIONS. The following are notes of a familiar lecture

on this subject, given by a teacher at some general exercise in the

school. The practice of thus reducing to writing what the teacher may

say on such subjects will be attended with excellent effects.

This is a subject upon which young persons find much difficulty.

The question is asked a thousand times, "How shall I ever learn to

keep my resolutions?" Perhaps, the great cause of your failures is

this. You are not sufficiently _definite_ in forming your purposes.

You will resolve to do a thing, without knowing with certainty

whether it is even possible to do it. Again, you make resolutions

which are to run on indefinitely, so that of course, they can never

be fully kept. For instance, one of you will resolve to _rise

earlier in the morning_. You fix upon no definite hour, on any

definite number of mornings, only you are going to "_rise

earlier_." Morning comes and finds you sleepy and disinclined to

rise. You remember your resolution of rising earlier. "But then it

is _very early_," you say. You resolved to rise earlier, but you

didn't resolve to rise just then. And this, it may be, is the last

of your resolution. Or, perhaps you are, for a few mornings, a

little earlier; but then at the end of a week or fortnight, you do

not know exactly, whether your resolution has been broken or kept,

for, you had not decided whether to rise earlier for ten days, or

for ten years.

In the same vague and general manner, a person will resolve to be

_more studious_, or more diligent. In the case of an individual, of

a mature and well-disciplined mind, of acquired firmness of

character, such a resolution might have effect. The individual will

really devote more time and attention to his pursuits. But, for one

of you to make such a resolution, would do no sort of good. It

would only be a source of trouble and disquiet. You perceive there

is nothing definite,--nothing fixed about it. You have not decided

what amount of additional time or attention to give to your

studies, or, when you will begin, or when you will end. There is no

one time when you will feel that you are breaking your resolution,

because there were no particular times when you were to study more.

You waste one opportunity and another, and then, with a feeling of

discouragement, and self-reproach, conclude to abandon your

resolution. "Oh! it does no good to make resolutions," you say; "I

never shall keep them."

Now, if you would have the business of making resolutions a

pleasant and interesting, instead of a discouraging, disquieting

one, you must proceed in a different manner. Be definite and

distinct in your plan,--decide exactly what you will do, and how

you will do it--when you will begin and when you will end. Instead

of resolving to "rise earlier," resolve to rise at the ringing of

the sunrise bells, or at some other definite time. Resolve to try

this, as an experiment, for one morning, or for one week, or

fortnight. Decide positively, if you decide at all, and then, rise

when the time comes, sleepy or not sleepy. Do not stop to repent of

your resolution, or to consider the wisdom or folly of it, when the

time for acting under it, has once arrived.

In all cases, little and great, make this a principle,--to consider

well before you begin to act, but after you have begun to act,

never stop to consider. Resolve as deliberately as you please; but

be sure to keep your resolution, whether a wise one or an unwise

one, after it is once made. Never allow yourself to re-consider the

question of getting up, after the morning has come, except it be,

for some unforeseen circumstance. Get up for that time, and be more

careful how you make resolutions again.

17. TOPICS. c. The plan of the Topic Exercise, as we called it, is this.

Six or seven topics are given out, information upon which is to be

obtained from any source, and communicated verbally before the whole

school, or sometimes before a class formed for this purpose, the next

day. The subjects are proposed both by teacher and scholars, and if

approved, adopted. The exercise is intended to be voluntary, but ought

to be managed in a way sufficiently interesting to induce all to join.

At the commencement of the exercise the teacher calls upon all who have

any information in regard to the topic assigned, suppose, for example it

is _Alabaster_, to rise. Perhaps twenty individuals out of forty rise.

The teacher may, perhaps, say to those in their seats,

"Do you not know any thing of this subject? Have you neither seen nor

heard of Alabaster, and had no means of ascertaining any thing in regard

to it? If you have, you ought to rise. It is not necessary that you

should state a fact altogether new and unheard of, but if you tell me

its color, or some of the uses to which it is applied, you will be

complying with my request."

After these remarks, perhaps a few more rise, and possibly the whole

school. Individuals are then called upon at random, each to state only

one particular in regard to the topic in question. This arrangement is

made so as to give all an opportunity to speak: If any scholar, after

having mentioned one fact, has something still farther to communicate,

she remains standing till called upon again. As soon as an individual

has exhausted her stock of information, or if the facts that she

intended to mention are stated by another, she takes her seat.

The topics at first most usually selected, are the common objects by

which we are surrounded; for example, glass, iron, mahogany, &c. The

list will gradually extend itself, until it will embrace a large number

of subjects.

The object of this exercise is to induce pupils to seek for general

information in an easy and pleasant manner, as by the perusal of books,

newspapers, periodicals, and conversation with friends. It induces care

and attention in reading, and discrimination in selecting the most

useful and important facts from the mass of information. As individuals

are called upon, also, to express their ideas _verbally_, they soon

acquire by practice, the power of expressing their ideas with clearness

and force, and communicating with ease and confidence the knowledge they

possess.

18. MUSIC. c. The girls of our school often amused themselves in recess

by collecting into little groups for singing. As there seemed to be a

sufficient power of voice and a respectable number who were willing to

join in the performance, it was proposed one day, that singing should be

introduced as a part of the devotional exercises of the school.

The first attempt nearly resulted in a failure; only a few trembling

voices succeeded in singing Old Hundred, to the words, "Be thou," &c. On

the second day, Peterborough was sung with much greater confidence on

the part of the increased number of singers. The experiment was tried

with greater and greater success for several days, when the Teacher

proposed that a systematic plan should be formed, by which there night

be singing regularly at the close of school. It was then proposed, that

a number of Singing books be obtained, and one of the scholars, who was

well acquainted with common tunes, be appointed as chorister. Her duty

should be, to decide what particular tune may be sung each day, inform

the Teacher of the metre of the hymn, and take the lead in the exercise.

This plan being approved of by the scholars, was adopted, and put into

immediate execution. Several brought copies of the Sabbath School Hymn

Book which they had in their possession, and the plan succeeded beyond

all expectation. The greatest difficulty in the way was to get some one

to lead. The chorister, however, was somewhat relieved from the

embarrassment which she would naturally feel in making a beginning, by

the appointment of one or two individuals with herself, who were to act

as her assistants. These constituted the leading Committee, or as it was

afterwards termed, _Singing Committee_.

Singing now became a regular and interesting exercise of the school, and

the Committee succeeded in managing the business themselves.

19. TABU. c. An article was one day read in a school relating to the

"Tabu" of the Sandwich Islanders. Tabu is a term with them which

signifies consecrated,--not to be touched--to be let alone--not to be

violated. Thus according to their religious observances, a certain day

will be proclaimed _Tabu_, that is, one upon which there is to be no

work, or no going out.

A few days after this article was read, the scholars observed one

morning, a flower stuck up in a conspicuous place against the wall, with

the word TABU in large characters above it. This excited considerable

curiosity. The teacher informed them, in explanation, that the flower

was a very rare and beautiful specimen brought by one of the scholars,

which he wished all to examine. "You would naturally feel a disposition

to examine it by the touch;" said he, "but you will all see, that by the

time it was touched by sixty individuals, it would be likely to be

injured, if not destroyed. So I concluded to label it, _Tabu_. And it

has occurred to me that this will be a convenient mode of apprising you

generally, that any article had better not be handled. You know we

sometimes have some apparatus exposed, which would be liable to injury

from disturbance, where there are so many persons to touch it. I shall

in such a case, just mention that an article is Tabu, and you will

understand that it is not only not to be _injured_, but not even

_touched_."

A little delicate management of this sort will often have more influence

over young persons, than the most vehement scolding, or the most

watchful and jealous precautions. The Tabu was always most scrupulously

regarded, after this, whenever employed.

20. MENTAL ANALYSIS. Scene; a class in Arithmetic at recitation. The

teacher gives them an example in addition, requesting them when they

have performed it to rise. Some finish it very soon, others are very

slow in accomplishing the work.

"I should like to ascertain," says the teacher, "how great is the

difference of rapidity, with which different members of the class work

in addition. I will give you another example, and then notice by my

watch, the shortest and longest time required to do it."

The result of the experiment was, that some members of the class were

two or three times as long in doing it, as others.

"Perhaps you think," said the teacher, "that this difference is

altogether owing to difference of skill, but it is not. It is mainly

owing to the different methods adopted by various individuals. I am

going to describe some of these, and as I describe them, I wish you

would notice them carefully, and tell me which you practice.

There are then three modes of adding up a column of figures, which I

shall describe."

1. "I shall call the first _counting_. You take the first figure, and

then add the next to it, by counting up regularly. There are three

distinct ways of doing this.

(a.) Counting by your fingers. ("Yes sir.") You take the first

figure,--suppose it is seven, and the one above it, eight. Now you

recollect that to add eight, you must count all the fingers of one hand,

and all but two again. So you say seven--eight, nine, ten, eleven,

twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen."

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

(b.) "The next mode of counting is to do it mentally, without using your

fingers at all, but as it is necessary for you to have some plan to

secure your adding the right number, you divide the units into sets of

two each. Thus you remember that eight consists of four twos, and you

accordingly say, when adding eight to seven, seven;--eight, nine;--ten,

eleven;--twelve, thirteen;" &c.

(c.) "The third mode is, to add by three, in the same way. You recollect

that eight consists of two threes and a two; so you say, seven;--eight,

nine, ten;--eleven, twelve, thirteen;--fourteen, fifteen."

The teacher here stops to ascertain how many of the class are accustomed

to add in either of these modes. It is a majority.

2. "The next general method is _calculating_. That is, you do not unite

one number to another by the dull and tedious method of applying the

units, one by one, as in the ways described under the preceding head,

but you come to a result more rapidly by some mode of calculating. These

modes are several.

(a.) Doubling a number, and then adding or subtracting as the case may

require. For instance in the example already specified; in order to add

seven and eight, you say, "Twice seven are fourteen and one are

fifteen;" ("Yes sir," "Yes sir,") or "Twice eight are sixteen, and

taking one off, leaves fifteen. ("Yes sir.")

(b.) Another way of calculating is to skip about the column, adding

those numbers which you can do most easily, and then bringing in the

rest as you best can. Thus, if you see three eights in one column, you

say three times eight are twenty-four, and then you try to bring in the

other numbers. Often in such cases, you forget what you have added and

what you have not, and get confused, ("Yes sir,") or you omit something

in your work, and consequently it is incorrect.

(c.) If nines occur, you sometimes add ten, and then take off one, for

it is very easy to add ten.

(d.) Another method of calculating, which is, however, not very common,

is this. To take our old case, adding eight to seven, you take as much

from the eight to add to the seven as will be sufficient to make ten,

and then it will be easy to add the rest. Thus, you think in a minute,

that three from the eight will make the seven a ten, and then there will

be five more to add, which will make fifteen. If the next number was

seven, you would say five of it will make twenty, and then there will be

two left, which will make twenty-two. This mode, though it may seem more

intricate than any of the others, is in fact more rapid than any of

them, when one is little accustomed to it.

These are the four principal modes of calculating which occur to me.

Pupils do not generally practice any one of them exclusively, but

occasionally resort to each, according to the circumstances of the

particular case."

The teacher here stopped to inquire how many of the class were

accustomed to add by calculating in either of these ways; or in any

simpler ways.

3. "There is one more mode which I shall describe: it is by _Memory_.

Before I explain this mode I wish to ask you some questions which I

should like to have you answer as quick as you can.

How much is four times five?--Four _and_ five?

How much is seven times nine?--Seven _and_ nine?

Eight times six?--Eight _and_ six?

Nine times seven?--Nine _and_ seven?"

After asking a few questions of this kind, it was perceived that the

pupils could tell much more readily what was the result when the numbers

were to be multiplied, then when they were to be added.

"The reason is," said the teacher, "because you committed the

multiplication table to memory, and have not committed the addition

table. Now many persons have committed the addition table, so that it is

perfectly familiar to them, and when they see any two numbers, the

amount which is produced when they are added together comes to mind in

an instant. Adding in this way is the last of the three modes I was to

describe.

Now of these three methods, the last is undoubtedly the best. If you

once commit the addition table thoroughly, you have it fixed for life;

whereas if you do not, you have to make the calculation over again every

time, and thus lose a vast amount of labor. I have no doubt that there

are some in this class who are in the habit of _counting_, who have

ascertained that seven and eight for instance, make fifteen; by counting

up from seven to fifteen, _hundreds of times_. Now how much better it

would be, to spend a little time in fixing the fact in the mind once for

all, and then when you come to the case, seven and eight are--say at

once "Fifteen,"--instead of mumbling over and over again, hundreds of

times, "Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen,

fifteen."

The reason then, that some of the class add so slowly, is not probably

because they want skill and rapidity of execution, but became they work

to a great disadvantage, by working in the wrong way. I have often been

surprised at the dexterity and speed with which some scholars can count

with their fingers, when adding, and yet they could not get through the

sum very, quick--at least they would have done it in half the time, if

the same effort had been made in travelling on a shorter road. We will

therefore study the addition table now, in the class, before we go on

any farther."

* * * * *

The foregoing narratives, it is hoped, may induce some of the readers of

this book to keep journals of their own experiments, and of the

incidents which may, from time to time come under their notice,

illustrating the principles of education, or simply the characteristics

and tendencies of the youthful mind. The business of teaching will

excite interest and afford pleasure, just in proportion to the degree in

which it is conducted by operations of mind upon mind, and the means of

making it most fully so, are, careful practice, based upon, and

regulated by, the results of careful observation. Every teacher then

should make observations and experiments upon mind a part of his daily

duty, and nothing will more facilitate this, than keeping a record of

results. There can be no opportunity for studying human nature, more

favorable than the teacher enjoys. The materials are all before him; his

very business, from day to day, brings him to act directly upon them;

and the study of the powers and tendencies of the human mind is not only

the most interesting and the noblest that can engage human attention,

but every step of progress he makes in it, imparts an interest and

charm, to what would otherwise be a weary toil. It at once relieves his

labors, while it doubles their efficiency and success.