In the School-Room Part 12

GAINING THE ATTENTION.

The teacher who fails to get the attention of his scholars, fails totally. The pupils may perhaps learn something, because they may give the lesson some study at home, under the direction of their parents. But they learn nothing from the teacher. He is really no teacher, though he may occupy the teacher's seat. There is, and there can be, no teaching, where the attention of the scholar is not secured. Gaining the attention is an indispensable condition to the thing called teaching. Not, however, the only indispensable thing. We have seen a cla.s.s wrought by special tricks and devices to the highest pitch of excited attention,--fairly panting with eagerness, all eyes and ears, on the very tiptoe of aroused mental activity,--yet learning nothing. The teacher had the knack of stirring them up and las.h.i.+ng them into a half frenzy of excited expectation, without having any substantial knowledge wherewith to reward their eagerness. With all his one-sided skill, he was but a mountebank. To real, successful teaching, there must be these two things, namely, the ability to hold the minds of the children, and the ability to pour into the minds thus presented sound and seasonable instruction. Lacking the latter ability, your pupil goes away with his vessel unfilled. Lacking the former, you only pour water upon the ground.

How shall the teacher secure attention?

In the first place, let him make up his mind that he will have it. This is half the battle. Let him settle it with himself, that until he does this, he is doing nothing; that without the attention of his scholars, he is no more a teacher, than is the chair he occupies. If he is not plus, he is zero, if not actually minus. With this truth fully realized, he will come before his cla.s.s resolved to have a hearing; and this very resolution, written as it will be all over him, will have its effect upon his scholars. Children are quick to discern the mental att.i.tude of a teacher. They know, as if by instinct, whether he is in earnest or not, and in all ordinary cases they yield without dispute to a claim thus resolutely put.

This, then, is the first duty of the teacher in this matter. He must go to his cla.s.s with the resolute determination of making every scholar feel his presence all the time. The moment any scholar shows that the consciousness of his teacher's presence is not on his mind, as a restraining power, something is wrong. The first step towards producing that consciousness, as an abiding influence on the minds of the scholars, is for the teacher to determine in his own mind and bring it about. Without being arrogant, without being dictatorial, without being or doing anything that is disagreeable or unbecoming, he must yet make up his mind to put forth in the cla.s.s a distinct power of self-a.s.sertion. He must determine to make them feel that he is there, that he is there all the time, that he is there to every one of them.

In the next place, the teacher must not disappoint the attention which his manner has challenged. He must have something valuable to communicate to the expectant minds before him. He must be thoroughly prepared in the lesson, so that the pupils shall feel that they are learning from him. His lips must keep knowledge. The human heart thirsts for knowledge. This is one of its natural instincts. It is indeed often much perverted, and many are to be found who even show aversion to being instructed. Yet the normal condition of things is otherwise, and nothing is more common than to see children hanging with fondness around any one who has something to tell them. Let the teacher then be sure to have something to say, as well as determined to say it.

In the third place, the teacher must have his knowledge perfectly at command. It must be on the tip of his tongue. If he hesitates, and stops to think, or to look in his book for the purpose of hunting up what he has to tell them, he will be very apt to lose his chance. Teaching children, particularly young children, is like shooting birds on the wing. The moment your bird is in sight, you must fire. The moment you have the child's eye, be ready to speak. This readiness of utterance is a matter to be cultivated. The ripest scholars are often sadly deficient in it. The very habit of profound study is apt to induce the opposite quality to readiness. A teacher who is conscious of this defect, must resolutely set himself to resist it and overcome it. He can do so, if he will. But it requires resolution and practice.

In the fourth place, the teacher must place himself so that every pupil in the cla.s.s is within the range of his vision. It is not uncommon to see a teacher pressing close up to the scholars in the centre of the cla.s.s, so that those at the right and left ends are out of his sight; or if he turns his face to those on one side, he at the same time turns his back to those on the other. Always sit or stand where you can all the while see the face of every pupil. I have, hundreds of times, seen the whole character of the instruction and discipline of a cla.s.s changed by the observance of this simple rule.

Another rule is to use your eyes quite as much as your tongue. If you want your cla.s.s to look at you, you must look at them. The eye has a magic power. It wins, it fascinates, it guides, it rewards, it punishes, it controls. You must learn how to see every child all the time. Some teachers seem to be able to see only one scholar at a time. This will never do. While you are giving this absorbed, undivided attention to one, all the rest are running wild. Neither will it do for the teacher to be looking about much, to see what is going on among the other cla.s.ses in the room. Your scholars' eyes will be very apt to follow yours. You are the engineer, they are the pa.s.sengers. If you run off the track, they must do likewise. Nor must your eye be occupied with the book, hunting up question and answer, nor dropped to the floor in excessive modesty. All the power of seeing that you have is needed for looking earnestly, lovingly, without interruption, into the faces and eyes of your pupils.

But for the observance of this rule, another is indispensable. You must learn to teach without book. Perhaps you cannot do this absolutely. But the nearer you can approach to it, the better. Thorough preparation, of course, is the secret of this power. Some teachers think they have prepared a lesson when they have gone over it once, and studied out all the answers. There could not be a greater mistake. This is only the first step in the preparation. You might as well think that you have learned the Multiplication Table, and are prepared to teach it, when you have gone over it once and seen by actual count that the figures are all right, and you know where to put your finger on them when required. You are prepared to teach a lesson when you have all the facts and ideas in it at your tongue's end, so that you can go through them all, in proper order, without once referring to the book. Any preparation short of this will not do, if you want to command attention. Once prepare a lesson in this way, and it will give you such freedom in the art of teaching, and you will experience such a pleasure in it, that you will never want to relapse into the old indolent habit.

XXVIII.

COUNSELS.

1. _To a Young Teacher._

You are about to a.s.sume the charge of a cla.s.s in the school under my care. Allow me, in a spirit of frankness, to make to you a brief statement of some of the aims of the inst.i.tution, and of the principles by which we are guided in their prosecution.

1. "Unless the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it."

I have no professional conviction more fixed and abiding than this, that no persons more need the direct, special, continual guidance of the Holy Spirit than those who undertake to mould and discipline the youthful mind. No preparation for this office is complete which does not include devout prayer for that wisdom which cometh from above. If any one possession, more than another, is the direct gift of the Almighty, it would seem to be that of knowledge. The teacher, therefore, of all men, is called upon to look upwards to a source that is higher than himself.

He needs light in his own mind; he should not count it misspent labor to ask for light to be given to the minds of his scholars. There is a Teacher infinitely wiser and more skilful than any human teacher. The instructor must be strangely blind to the resources of his profession, who fails to resort habitually to that great, plenary, unbounded source of light and knowledge. While, therefore, we aim in this school to profit by all subsidiary and subordinate methods and improvements in the art of teaching, we first of all seek the aid of our Heavenly Father; we ask wisdom of Him who "giveth liberally and upbraideth not." This, then, is the first principle that governs us in the work here a.s.signed us. The fear of G.o.d is the beginning of knowledge. We who are teachers endeavor to show that we ourselves fear G.o.d, and we inculcate the fear of Him as the first and highest duty of our scholars; and in every plan and effort to guide the young minds committed to us, we ourselves look for guidance to the only unerring source of light.

2. In proportion to the implicitness with which we rely upon divine aid, should be the diligence with which we use all the human means within our reach. It should therefore, in the second place, be the aim of the teachers of this school to acquaint themselves diligently with the most approved methods of teaching. No teachers will be retained who do not keep themselves well posted in the literature of their profession, and who are not found continually aiming at self-improvement. In whatever school of whatever country, any branch is taught by better methods than those practised here, it should be the duty of a teacher in this school to search it out, and to profit by the discovery. Improvement comes by comparison. The man, or the inst.i.tution, that fails to profit by the experience of others, is not wise. I hold it to be the duty of every teacher of this school to be habitually conversant with the educational journals of the day, and with the standard works on the theory of teaching, and to lose no opportunity for personal observation of the methods of others. I have often noticed, with equal pain and commiseration, that young teachers, after having once finished their preliminary studies and obtained a situation, are thereupon apparently quite content, making no further effort at improvement, but settling down for life in an inglorious mediocrity. The best teachers in this school are expected to be better teachers next year than they are now,--with ampler stores of knowledge, and a happier faculty for communicating it. This, then, is our second aim in this school. We aim to have teachers thoroughly posted in regard to the theory and the methods of teaching, prepared to ride upon the advance wave of every real improvement in the art.

3. I should, however, fail entirely to convey my meaning, were I to lead you to suppose that we expect to accomplish our ends mainly by fine-spun theories. I have no faith in any theory of education, which does not include, as one of its leading elements, _hard work_. The teachers of this school expect to work hard, and we expect the scholars to work hard. We have no royal road to learning. Any knowledge, the acquisition of which costs nothing, is usually worth nothing. The mind, equally with the body, grows by labor. If some stuffing process could be invented, by which knowledge could be forced into a mind perfectly pa.s.sive, the knowledge so acquired would be worthless to its possessor, and would soon pa.s.s away, leaving the mind as blank as it was before. Knowledge, to be of any value, must be a.s.similated, as bodily food is. Teaching is essentially a co-operative act. The mind of the teacher and the mind of the scholar must both act, and must act together, in intellectual co-operation and sympathy, if there is to be any true mental growth.

Teaching is not merely hearing lessons. It is not mere talking. It is something more than mere telling. It is causing a child to know. It is awakening attention, and then satisfying it. It is an out-and-out live process. The moment the mind of the teacher or the mind of the scholar flags, real teaching ceases. This, then, is our third aim. We aim in this school to accomplish results, not by fanciful theories, but by _bona fide_ hard work,--by keeping teachers and scholars, while at their studies, wide awake and full of life; not by exhausting drudgery, nor by fitful, irregular, spasmodic exertions, but by steady, persevering, animated, straight-forward work.

4. A fourth aim which we have steadily before us, is to make _thorough_ work of whatever acquisition we attempt. A little knowledge, well learned and truly digested, and made a part of the pupil's own intellectual stores, is worth more to him than any amount of facts loosely and indiscriminately brought together. In intellectual, as in other tillage, the true secret of thrift is to plough deep, not to skim over a large surface. The prevailing tendency at this time, in systems of education, is unduly to multiply studies. So many new sciences are being brought within the pale of popular knowledge, that it is no longer possible, in a school like this, to embrace within its course of study all the subjects which it is practicable and desirable for people generally to know. Through the whole encyclopaedia of arts and sciences, there is hardly one which has not its advocates, and which has not strong claims to recognition. The teacher is simply infatuated who attempts to embrace them all in his curriculum. He thereby puts himself under an absolute necessity of being superficial, and he generates in his scholars pretension and conceit. Old James Ross, the grammarian, famous as a teacher in Philadelphia more than half a century ago, had on his sign simply these words, "Greek and Latin taught here." a.s.suredly I would not advocate quite so rigid an exclusion as that, nor, if limited to only two studies, would it be those. But I have often thought Mr.

Ross's advertis.e.m.e.nt suggestive. Better even that extreme than the encyclopaedic system which figures so largely on some circulars. Mr. Ross indeed taught nothing but Latin and Greek. But he taught these languages better probably than they have ever been taught on this continent; and any two branches thoroughly mastered are of more service to the pupil than twenty branches known imperfectly and superficially. A limited field, then, and thorough work. This is our fourth aim.

5. As a fifth aim, we endeavor, in the selection of subjects of study, not to allow the common English branches, as they are called, to be shoved aside. To read well, to write a good hand, to be expert in arithmetic, to have such a knowledge of geography and history as to read intelligently what is going on and the world, to have such a knowledge of one's own language as to use it correctly and purely in speaking and composition,--these are attainments to be postponed to no others. These are points of primary importance, to be aimed at by every one, whatever else he may omit.

6. We aim, in the sixth place, to mark the successive parts of the course of study by well defined limits. There are in the course of study successive stages of progress, and these stages are made as clear and precise as it is possible to make them; and no pupil is allowed to go forward until the ground behind is thoroughly mastered. At the same time, these stages in study should be kept all the while before the minds of the pupils as goals to be aimed at. There are, for this purpose, at briefly recurring intervals, examinations for promotion.

While no pupil is permitted to go forward, except as the result of a rigorous examination, the idea of an advance should, if possible, never be allowed to be absent from his thoughts. That scholar should be counted worthy of highest honor, not who stands highest in a particular room, but who by successful examinations can pa.s.s most rapidly from room to room. That teacher is considered most successful, not who retains most pupils, but who in a given time pushes most pupils forward into a higher room. We want no scholar to stand still for a single week.

Motion, progress, definite achievement, must be the order of the day.

7. We aim, in the seventh place, to cultivate in every pupil a habit of attention and observation. Youth is the time when the senses should be most a.s.siduously trained. The young should be taught to see for themselves, to ascertain the qualities of objects by the use of their own eyes and hands, to notice whether a thing is distant and how far distant it is, whether it is heavy and how heavy, whether it has color and what color, whether it has form and what form. They should learn to study real things by actually noticing them with their own senses, and then learning to apply the right words to the knowledge so acquired. We aim to apply this habit of observation in all the branches of study, so that in every stage of progress the scholar shall know, not merely the names of things, but the things themselves. In other words, we would cultivate real, as well as verbal knowledge, and aim to awaken in every pupil an active, inquiring, observant state of mind.

2. _To a New Pupil._

You have just been admitted to the privileges of this inst.i.tution, and are about to enter here upon a course of study. The occasion is one eminently suited for serious reflection. At the close of a school career it is difficult not to reflect. Thoughts upon one's course will, at such a time, force themselves upon us. But then it is too late. The good we might have achieved, is beyond our grasp, and its contemplation is profitable only as a legitimate topic of contrition. How much wiser and more profitable to antic.i.p.ate the serious judgment which sooner or later we must pa.s.s upon our actions, and so to shape our conduct in advance, that the retrospect, when it comes, may be a source of joy and congratulation, rather than of shame and repentance. How much wiser to direct our bark to some definite and well selected channel, than to float at random along the current of events, the sport of every idle wave. Men are divided into two cla.s.ses,--those who control their own destiny, doing what they mean to do, living according to a plan which they prefer and prepare, and those who are controlled by circ.u.mstances, who have a vague purpose of doing something or being somebody in the world, but leave the means to chance. The season of youth generally determines to which of these cla.s.ses you will ultimately belong. It is here, at school, that you decide whether, when you come to man's estate, you will be a governing man, or whether you will be a mere aimless driveller. Those who at the beginning of a course in school make to themselves a distinct aim, towards which day after day they work their course, undiscouraged by defeat, unseduced by ease or the temptation of a temporary pleasure, not only win the immediate objects of pursuit, but gain for themselves those habits of aiming, of perseverance, of self-control, which will make them hereafter controlling and governing men. Those, on the contrary, who enter upon an academic career with an indefinite purpose of studying after a fas.h.i.+on, whenever it is not too hot, or too cold, or the lessons are not too hard, or there is nothing special going on to distract the attention, or who are content to swim along lazily with the mult.i.tude, trusting to the good-nature of the teacher, to an occasional deception, or to the general chapter of accidents, for escape from censure, and for such an amount of proficiency as on the whole will pa.s.s muster with friends or the public,--depend upon it, such youths are doomed, inevitably doomed, all their days, to be n.o.bodies, or worse.

Let me, then, my young friend, as preliminary to your entering upon the duties before you, call to your mind some of those things, which, as an intelligent and responsible being, you should deliberately aim to follow or to avoid while in this school. In the counsels which I am going to give you, I shall make no attempt to say what is new or striking. My aim will be rather to recall to your memory some few of those familiar maxims, in which you have been, I dare say, often instructed elsewhere.

1. First of all, remember that men always, by a necessary law, fall below the point at which they aim. You well understand that if a projectile be hurled in the direct line of any elevated object, the force of gravity will cause the projectile to deflect from the line of direction, and this deflection and curvature will be great in proportion to the distance of the object to be reached. Hence, in gunnery, the skilful marksman invariably takes aim above the point which he expects to hit. At certain distances, he will aim 45 above the horizon at what is really but 30 above it. So, in moral subjects, there is unfortunately a native and universal tendency downwards, which deflects us out of the line in which good resolutions would propel us. You aim to be distinguished, and you turn out only meritorious. You aim to be meritorious, and you fall into the mult.i.tude. You are content with being of the mult.i.tude, and you fall out of your cla.s.s entirely. So also, as in physical projectiles, the extent of your departure from the right line is measured by the distance of the objects at which you aim. You resolve to avoid absolutely and entirely certain practices for a day or a week, and you can perhaps keep very close to the mark. But who can hold himself up to an exact fulfilment of his intentions for a whole term? I do not wish to discourage you. The drift of my argument is, not that you should make no aim, but that you should fix your aim _high_, and that you should then keep yourself up to your good resolutions, as long and as closely as you possibly can.

2. In the next place, remember that no excellence is ever attained without self-denial. Wisdom's ways are indeed ways of pleasantness. The satisfaction of having done well and n.o.bly is of a certain ravis.h.i.+ng kind, far surpa.s.sing other enjoyments. But to obtain this high and satisfying pleasure, many minor and incompatible pleasures must be foregone. You cannot have the pleasure of being a first-rate scholar, and at the same time have your full swing of fun. I am not opposed to fun. I like it myself. No one enjoys it more. Nor do I think the exercise and enjoyment of it incompatible with the highest scholastic excellence. But there is a place for all things, and school is not the place for fun. If you enjoy in moderation out of school the relaxation and refreshment which jokes, wit, and pleasantry give, you will be all the more likely to grapple successfully with the serious employments which await you here. Still do not forget that your employments here are serious. Study is a sober business. If you would acquire really useful knowledge, you must be willing to work. You must make up your mind to say "no" to the thousand opportunities and temptations to frivolous behavior that will beset you in school. You must not be content with being studious and orderly merely when the eye of authority is upon you.

This is to be simply an eye-servant and a hypocrite. To have a little pleasantry in the school-room, to perpetrate or to join in some witty practical joke, may seem to you comparatively harmless. So it would be but for its expense. You buy it at the cost of benefits which no money can measure, and no future time can replace. There are seasons of the year when the farmer may indulge in relaxation,--may go abroad on excursions of pleasure, or may saunter away the time in comparative idleness at home. But in the few precious weeks of seedtime, every day, every hour is of moment. This is your seedtime. Every hour of school-time that you waste in trifling is an injury and a loss to your future. Remember, then, that you cannot reach high excellence in school, or that pure and n.o.ble enjoyment, which is its exceeding great reward, without self-denial. Resolve, therefore, here and now, steadfastly, immovably, to say "no" to everything in school, no matter how innocent in itself, which shall interfere with the progress of study for a single moment. If you make such a fixed resolution, and live up to it, you will soon be surprised to find how easy and pleasant the discipline of school has become.

3. Among the mischievous fallacies of young persons at school, I know none that work more to their own disadvantage than the opinion that a particular teacher is prejudiced against them. Against this feeling it seems impossible to reason. When once scholars have it fairly in their heads that a certain teacher is partial, in whatever relates to their standing, I have been almost forced to the conclusion that it is best not to attempt reasoning with them. Under such feelings, indeed, by a singular freak of human nature, scholars are often driven to do, in sheer bravado or defiance, the very things which they imagine to be unjustly imputed to them. Allow me, my young friend, to ask you candidly and in all seriousness to turn this matter over in your own mind. What adequate motive can you imagine for a teacher's marking you otherwise than impartially? Every teacher has an interest in having as many high marks and as few demerits under his signature as possible. It is not to his credit that he should be unable to maintain order without blackening his roll with bad marks. A cla.s.s roll filled with 0's is not the kind of evidence a teacher covets as to his skill in teaching. Notice the intercourse between the teachers and those scholars who are admitted on all hands to be strictly and conscientiously correct in their behavior.

See what a pleasure it affords the instructor to have to deal with such pupils. See what a satisfaction the teacher experiences when, at the close of the day, there is not a demerit mark on his book. Judge, then, whether it is not likely to be a self-denial and a cross to him, when a sense of duty compels him to do otherwise. Be slow, therefore, to impute bad marks to injustice, or ill nature. No man of course is infallible, and teachers make mistakes as well as other people. But the temptations to do intentional wrong are, in this case, all the other way.

4. Closely connected with the habit just mentioned is the disposition to neglect particular branches of study. From disliking a teacher, the transition is easy to a dislike for his department. Others again, without any personal feeling in the case, think that they have a natural fitness for one cla.s.s of studies, and an equally natural _un_-fitness for another cla.s.s. So they content themselves with proficiency in that in which they already excel, and neglect that in which they are deficient, and which therefore they find difficult. Is this wise? The branches which you find difficult, are precisely those in which you need an instructor. Besides, the object of education is to develop equally and harmoniously all your faculties. If the memory, the reasoning faculty, the imagination, or any one power of the mind, is active far beyond the other powers, that surely is no reason for giving additional stimulus and growth in that direction. On the contrary, bend your main energies towards bringing forward your other faculties to an equal development. If you have a natural or acquired preference for mathematics, and a dislike for languages, the former study will take care of itself: bend all your energies to the latter. So, if languages are your choice, and mathematical study your aversion, take hold of the odious task with steady and st.u.r.dy endeavor, and you will soon convert it into a pleasure. The same is true of grammar, of geography, of history, of composition, of rhetoric, of mental and moral science, of elocution,--of every branch. If you are wise, you will give your chief attention in school to those branches for which you feel the least inclination, and in which you find it most difficult to excel. You should do so, because, in the first place, this failure and disinclination, in nine cases out of ten, grow out of defective training heretofore, and not from any defect in your mental const.i.tution; and, secondly, if your natural const.i.tution should be, as in some cases it is, one-sided and exceptional, your aim should be to correct and cure, not to aggravate, the defects of nature. This advice, you will observe, relates to your course in school, not to your choice of a profession in life. When your career in school is finished, and you are about to select a profession, follow by all means the bent of your genius. Do that for which you have the greatest natural or acquired apt.i.tude. But here, the case is different. Your aim in school is to develop your powers,--to grow into an accomplished and capable man,--to acquire complete command of all the mental resources G.o.d has given you.

5. There is a practice, common to school-life everywhere, known by the not very dignified name of cheating. There is, I fear, among young people generally, while at school, an erroneous and mischievous state of opinion on this subject. Deception in regard to your lessons is not viewed, as it should be, in the light of a serious moral delinquency. An ingenuous youth, who would scorn to steal, and scorn to lie anywhere else than at school, makes no scruple to deceive a teacher. Is honesty a thing of place and time? I do not say, I would not trust at my money-drawer the boy who has been cheating at his lessons, because a boy may have been led into the latter delinquency by a false notion of right, which as yet has not affected his integrity in matters of business. But this I do say. Cheating at school blunts the moral sense; it impairs the sense of personal honor; it breaks down the outworks of integrity; it leads by direct and easy steps to that grosser cheating which ends in the penitentiary.

On this subject, I once had a most painful experience. A boy left school with as fair a character for honesty as many others against whom nothing can be said except that they do sometimes practise deceit in regard to their lessons. I really believed him to be an honest boy, and recommended him as such. By means of the recommendation, he obtained in a large store a responsible post connected with the receipt and payment of money. His employer was pleased with his abilities, and disposed to give him rapid promotion. After a few months, I inquired after him, and found that he had been detected in forcing his balances! I do verily believe, the dishonest purpose, which led to this pecuniary fraud, grew directly out of a facility at deception acquired at school. He had cheated his teacher; he had cheated his father; he had obtained a fict.i.tious average; he had gained a standing and credit in school not justly his due; why should he not exercise the same ingenuity in improving his pecuniary resources?

Independently of the moral effect of these deceptive practices upon your own character, is there not in the acts themselves an inherent meanness and baseness, from which a pure-minded youth would instinctively recoil?

Is there not something false and rotten in the prevailing sentiment on this subject among young persons at school? When by some convenient fiction you reach a higher standard than your merits ent.i.tle you to, is it not so far forth at the expense of some more conscientious compet.i.tor? And, after all, when you deceive a teacher into the belief that you are studying when you are not, that you know a thing when you do not know it, that you wrote a composition, or executed a drawing, which was done by some one else,--whom do you cheat but yourself? You may deceive the teacher, but the loss is yours.

6. If there could be such a thing as an innocent crime, I would say it was that of talking in school. There can hardly be named a more signal instance of an act so perfectly innocent in itself, becoming so seriously blame-worthy purely and solely by circ.u.mstances. I believe I express the common opinion of all who have had any experience in the matter, when I say that three fourths of all the intentional disorder, and at least nine tenths of all the actual interruptions to study, grow out of the practice of unlicensed talking. And yet this is the very last thing which young persons will admit into their serious, practical convictions as being an evil and a wrong. They may admit that they get bad marks by it; that it brings them into trouble; but that it is really an evil, meriting the strictures with which the teacher visits it, is more than they believe. What deceives them is this. They call to mind the events of a particular hour. There was during that hour, according to their recollection, a general attention to study, and no special disorder; perhaps some three or four of the pupils noted for talking.

This talking, too, may have been about the lesson, or at all events was not such as to distract very perceptibly the current of instruction.

Hence the inference that a moderate amount of talking, such as that was, is perfectly consistent with decorum and progress.

So it is. But what is to secure this moderate amount? What right have you to talk that is not enjoyed by your neighbor? If one may talk, so may all; if one does it, unchecked, so will all, as you very well know.

How is the teacher to know whether you are talking about the lesson, or about the last cricket-match?

This is a perfectly plain question, and I press you to an answer. There is no practical medium between unlimited license to talk--against which you would yourself be the first to protest--and an entire prohibition. I put it to your conscience, whether you do not believe, were this rule strictly and in good faith observed, that the interests of the school, and your own interest, comfort, and honor, would be greatly promoted? Is the inconvenience which this rule imposes so great, or your habit of self-indulgence so strong, that you cannot, or will not, forego a slight temporary gratification for so substantial and lasting a benefit?

7. You will avoid much of the difficulty of observing this rule, if you give heed to the next counsel which I have now to give, and that is, that you economize carefully your time in school. On this point some excellent and conscientious pupils occasionally err. They are very faithful in home preparation; very attentive at lectures; very industrious in discharging any set duty. But they have not yet learned the true secret of all economy, whether of time, money, or any other good,--namely, the knowing how to use well the odds and ends. Take care of the pence, was Franklin's motto. If you once have the secret of occupying usefully, in studious preparation, or in wise repet.i.tion, all those little intervals of interrupted instruction, which necessarily occur throughout the day, you will in the first place almost insure for yourself an entire freedom from demerit marks of every kind; you will secondly add materially to your intellectual progress; and, lastly, you will acquire a habit of the utmost value in every station and walk in life; and, depend upon it, the habits you acquire at school, are of all your acquisitions by far the most important.

8. But I would be false to my most settled convictions, were I to stop here. I have been a teacher of the young nearly all my life, and as the result of such a life-long professional experience, I have no conviction more abiding than this, that the _fear of G.o.d is the beginning of knowledge_. I believe that mental growth is just as directly the gift of G.o.d as bodily growth; that the healthy action of the mind is as much dependent on his good pleasure as the healthy action of the bodily functions. G.o.d has not only made one mind superior to another, but of two minds naturally equal, he can, at his sovereign pleasure, make one grow and expand more rapidly than another. As he can give symmetry and strength to your limbs, and clothe your features with beauty and grace, so he can make you quick of apprehension, clear of discernment, ready and tenacious to remember, delicate in your appreciation of what is beautiful. While, therefore, you are diligent in your studies, remember that the reward of your labor, after all, is the gift of G.o.d. You will neglect one essential means of intellectual progress, if you neglect prayer. I mean, not prayer in general, but specific prayer for G.o.d's blessing on your studies; prayer that G.o.d will bless your efforts to learn. Keep your mind, while engaged in study, in a habitual state of expectancy, especially when grappling with intellectual difficulties, as if inwardly looking up for help to that all-knowing Spirit, who alone, of all beings, acts directly on our spirits. I cannot doubt that one who studies in such a frame of mind, will advance in his intellectual progress more rapidly for it. I have a most a.s.sured conviction that prayer is a direct and important means of mental growth. Not only will the fear of G.o.d restrain you from many of the usual hindrances to study, of which I have already spoken, but a truly devout spirit is the very best state of mind for learning, even for learning purely intellectual truth.

There are other and higher motives, why you should cultivate, habitually, the fear of G.o.d. Of these motives, it is not my office to speak now. They are often pressed upon your attention. The one point to which I direct you now, is the importance of such a state of mind to your making the best, and surest, and n.o.blest kind of mental growth. If you would grow rapidly in knowledge, grow symmetrically and beautifully, with all your faculties in harmonious preparation and dependence, fear G.o.d. Keep your spirit in habitual intercourse and communion with that Almighty Spirit who is the source of all knowledge and wisdom. In the school-room, at your desk, in your recitations, and your exercises of every kind, let the thought that the eye of a loving Father is upon you, diffuse habitually a calm and sweet peace through your spirit, and depend upon it, you will not find your mental vision dimmed by moving in so pure and serene an atmosphere. There are no quickeners to knowledge equal to love, reverence, and earnest prayer.

Let me, in conclusion, tender you my best wishes for your success in the career now before you. That success depends, in no small degree, upon the feeling and spirit with which you begin. Only summon up your mind to a serious and determined resolution at the outset; aim high; do not flinch at self-denial; rise above the unworthy suspicion that this or that teacher is unfair to you; resist the disposition to s.h.i.+rk those studies that you find disagreeable or difficult; keep clear of every kind and degree of trickery; come straight up to a full and strict compliance with every rule; lay your plans to occupy usefully each golden moment of leisure; cultivate a constant sense of dependence upon G.o.d for success in study: and your success will be as certain as is the wish for it, which I once more, most respectfully and affectionately, tender you.

3. _To a Young Lady on Leaving a Boarding-School._