We come next to the consideration of school teachers; for, in order to have good schools, we want not merely good school-houses. These, as already seen, are of the utmost importance; but, to insure success, we must have good teachers in those houses. And here, were I addressing myself exclusively to the members of this profession, it would be appropriate to dwell in detail upon the requisite qualifications of teachers. But this would be foreign from my present design.[72]

It has not been my intention in any thing I have yet said, nor will it be in any thing I may hereafter urge, to overlook the importance of domestic education. Napoleon once said to an accomplished French lady that the old systems of education were good for nothing, and inquired what was wanting for the proper training of young persons in France. With keen discernment and great truth, she replied, in one word—Mothers. This reply forcibly impressed the emperor, and he exclaimed, "Behold an entire system of education! You must make mothers that know how to train their children." I may add, we want mothers not only, but fathers too, qualified for the great work of training their offspring aright; for parents are readily admitted to be the natural educators of their children. But the literary training of children has always been accomplished chiefly by delegation; and not only the literary, but, to a great extent, the moral and religious.

This course has been adopted on account of the situation of families; many parents being unable to teach their children themselves, and others lacking the necessary leisure to carry forward a systematic and thorough course of instruction. This course is dictated by policy; for the children of a whole neighborhood may be better taught, and at less expense, in good schools, than in their respective families. This course has also been adopted as a matter of necessity; for the greatness of the work of education requires, in order to carry it forward successfully, that it should be studied as a profession. The teacher then engages jointly with the parent in the work of education, and with him shares its toils, its responsibilities, and its delights.

From the greatness of the teacher's work, as we have already considered it—training, as he should, his youthful charge for respectability, usefulness, and happiness in this life, and for everlasting felicity in that which is to come—we may infer what should be his qualifications. And we remark, in the general, that the business of

School teaching should rank among the learned professions. The teacher should well understand the nature of the subjects of education, as physical, intellectual, and moral beings. The education of children can not safely be intrusted to persons who are not practically acquainted with human physiology, and with mental science as based thereon. The most serious physical evils frequently result from allowing incompetent persons to exercise the functions of this high and responsible vocation.

In addition to a thorough knowledge of all the branches in which a teacher is expected to give instruction, and an acquaintance with those collateral branches that have a bearing upon them, the instructor of youth should possess the rare attainment of aptness to teach. It will be of little avail if the teacher has become familiar with all wisdom, unless he can readily communicate instruction to others. Paul, in speaking of the qualifications of bishops, says, among other things, they should be "apt to teach." This attainment is no less important for schoolmasters than for bishops. It is especially important that the teacher should be well acquainted with intellectual philosophy and moral science. This is necessary, in order to enable him to judge correctly of character, and to teach, and govern, and train his charge aright. But these attainments can never be made until teaching is elevated to the rank of a profession.

The lawyer is required to devote a series of years to a regular course of classical study and professional reading before he can find employment in a case in which a few dollars only are pending. With this we find no fault. But it should not be forgotten that the teacher's calling is as much more important than the ordinary exercise of the legal profession, as the imperishable riches of mind are more valuable than the corruptible treasures of earth.

We seek out from among us men of sound discretion and good report to enact laws for the government of the state and nation. And with this, too, we find no fault. It is right and proper that we should do so. But it should be borne in mind that it is the teacher's high prerogative not only so to instruct and train the rising generation that they shall rightly understand law, but to infix in their minds the principles of justice and equity, the attainment of which is the high aim of legislation. While our legislators enact laws for the government of the people, the well-qualified and faithful schoolmaster prepares those under his charge to govern themselves. Without the teacher's conservative influence, under the best legislation, the great mass of the people will be lawless; while the tendency of his labors is to qualify the rising generation, who constitute our future freemen and our country's hope, to render an enlightened, a cheerful, and a ready obedience to the high claims of civil law. The well-qualified, faithful teacher, then, becomes the right arm of the legislator.

The physician is required to become thoroughly acquainted with the anatomy and physiology of the human body; in a word, to become acquainted with "the house I live in;" to understand the diseases to which we are subject, and their proper treatment, before he is allowed to extract a tooth, to open a vein, or administer the simplest medicine. Nor with this do we find fault, for we justly prize the body. It is the habitation of the immortal mind. When in health, it is the mind's servant, and ready to do its biddings; but darken its windows by disease, and it becomes the mind's prison-house. But while the physician, whom we honor and love, is required to make these attainments before he is permitted even to repair "the house I live in," should not he who teaches the master of the house be entitled to a respectable rank in society?

It is common, in the various branches of the Church universal, for men who feel themselves called of God to preach the Gospel to obtain a collegiate education, and then devote several years to professional study, before exercising the functions of the sacred office; and this has been required by popular opinion. And heretofore, I may add, the efforts of the minister have been directed chiefly to the reformation of adults whose early training has been imperfectly attended to, and to the building up of a religious character where no correct early foundation has been laid, when the time and energies of a people upon whom labor is bestowed are devoted chiefly to absorbing secular pursuits. The competent and faithful teacher, on the contrary, enters upon the discharge of his duties under circumstances widely different, and with infinitely better prospects of success. Jesus said, Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of God. These are they upon whom the teacher is called to bestow labor. He remembers that Solomon the wise has said, Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it; and he confidently expects that, with proper parental co-operation, if he faithfully discharges his duty, and directs his efforts in accordance with the will of the Great Teacher, his youthful charge, when arrived at the years of accountability, and in all future life, will be like "the child Samuel, who grew on, and was in favor both with the Lord and also with men." No wonder, then, that Channing should say, "One of the surest signs of the regeneration of society will be the elevation of teaching to the highest rank in the community."

The clerical profession can never equal that of the teacher in moral sublimity and prospective usefulness until religious teachers come to direct their attention chiefly to the correct early education of the young in the Sabbath-schools, but more especially in the common schools of our country. Then, and not till then, will it be entitled to the pre-eminence.

Should any teacher, in view of the immense responsibilities of his calling, be disposed to inquire, as all well may, Who is sufficient for these things? we would say to him, in the language of Wirt, "Let your motto be Perseverando vinces—by perseverance thou wilt overcome. Practice upon it, and you will be convinced of its value by the distinguished pre-eminence to which it will lead you." Especially will this be true in case the anxious teacher faithfully complies with the Divine direction, If any man lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.

Parents and citizens generally should be impressed with the truth of the maxim, "As is the teacher, so will be the school." They should desire for their own children, and for all others, teachers whose intellectual, social, and moral habits are, in all respects, what they are willing their children should form. They should, at least, be well apprised of this fact: If the teacher is not, in these respects, what they would have their children become, their children will be likely to become what the teacher is.

There is a story of a German schoolmaster, which shows the low notions that may be entertained of education. Stouber, the predecessor of Oberlin, the pastor of Waldbach, on his arrival at the place, desired to be shown to the principal school-house. He was conducted into a miserable cottage, where a number of children were crowded together, without any occupation. He inquired for the master. "There he is," said one, as soon as silence could be obtained, pointing to a withered old man, who lay on a little bed in one corner. "Are you the master, my friend?" asked Stouber. "Yes, sir." "And what do you teach the children?" "Nothing, sir." "Nothing! how is that?" "Because," replied the old man, "I know nothing myself." "Why, then, were you appointed the schoolmaster?" "Why, sir, I had been taking care of the Waldbach pigs a number of years, and when I got too old and infirm for that employment, they sent me here to take care of the children."

This anecdote may evince a degree of stupidity not to be met with in this country. We are, however, very far from being as careful in the selection of teachers as we ought to be. Unworthy teachers frequently find employment. I refer not to teachers whose literary qualifications are insufficient, although, as we have already seen, there are quite too many such. I refer now more particularly to those who are disqualified for the office because of moral obliquity.

Teachers are sometimes employed who are habitual Sabbath breakers; who are accustomed to the use of vulgar and profane language; who frequent the gambling table; who habitually use tobacco, in several of its forms, and that in the school-house! nay, more, who even teach the despicable habit to their children during school hours! Several emperors have prohibited the use of this filthy weed in their respective kingdoms, under the severest penalties. The pope has made a bull to excommunicate all those who use tobacco in the churches. One of the most numerous of the Protestant sects once prohibited the use of tobacco in their society; but so strong is this filthy habit, especially when formed in early life, that this society has backslidden and given up this excellent rule.

Since writing the above, I have noticed an article headed "Tobacco-using Ministers," which has appeared in several highly-reputable and widely-circulating periodicals, from which it appears that a large annual conference of divines of the same order, among other resolutions, have adopted one recommending "that the ministers refrain from the use of tobacco in all its forms, especially in the house of worship."

In commenting upon this action, a religious paper observes, that "by 'tobacco in all its forms' we suppose is meant chewing, smoking, and snuffing. But can it be possible that a minister, whose duty it is to recommend purity, and whose example should be cleanliness, can need conference resolutions to dissuade him from a practice so filthy and disgusting? And do they even carry this inconsistency into the 'house of worship?' So it seems!" But such is the severity of the strictures in the article referred to, that, although just, I forbear inserting them.

It has been suggested that, while Robinson Crusoe was alone on his island, he may have had a right to smoke, snuff, or chew; but that, when his man Friday came, "a decent regard for the opinions of mankind"—as the Declaration of Independence has it—should have debarred him at once from further indulgence.

One who has enjoyed large opportunities of observing, and who is scrupulous to a proverb, has remarked, that "the ministerial profession is probably the most offending in this particular. The Scriptures have much to say about keeping the body pure. Had tobacco been known to the Hebrews, who can doubt that it would have been among the articles prohibited by the Levitical law? St. Paul beseeches the Romans, by the mercies of God, to present their bodies 'a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable.' To the Corinthians he says, 'Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the spirit of God dwelleth in you? If any man defile the temple of God, him will God destroy; for the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are.' He commands them to glorify God in their body as well as in their spirit; for 'know ye not,' says he, 'that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost? What sort of a 'temple of the Holy Ghost' is he, every atom and molecule of whose physical system is saturated and stenched with the vile fetor of tobacco; whose every vesicle is distended by its foul gases; whose brain and marrow are begrimed and blackened with its sooty vapors and effluxions; all whose pores jet forth its malignant stream like so many hydrants; whose prayers are breathed out, not with a sweet, but with a foul-smelling savor; who baptizes infants with a hand which itself needs literal baptism and purification as by fire; and who carries to the bed-side of the dying an odor which, if the 'immaterial essence' could be infected by any earthly virus, would subject the departed soul to quarantine before it could enter the gates of heaven?"[73]

"Touch not, taste not, handle not," is the only safe rule in relation to all vicious practices; and especially is it true of this habit, which we can not call beastly, for there is not a natural beast in creation that indulges in it. I therefore congratulate my countrymen in view of the prospect before us of ultimately being freed from this disgusting and filthy habit, for the Board of Education in some of our cities have already wisely adopted the rule of employing no teachers who use tobacco in any form. Let this rule become universal among us, and the next generation will be comparatively free from the use of that repulsive weed, which only one of all created beings takes to naturally. Wherever else the filthy practice may be allowed, it ought never to be permitted in a house consecrated to the sacred work of educating the rising generation. And just look at the immense expenditure in this country for the support of this pernicious habit. It is said, on good authority, that for smoking merely we pay annually a tax of ten millions of dollars, which is a much greater sum than is paid to the teachers of all the public schools in the United States.

But to return: teachers are sometimes employed who are addicted to inebriety; who are notorious libertines, and unblushingly boast of the number of their victims. But I will not extend this dark catalogue. Comment is unnecessary. My fellow-countrymen, who have carefully perused and properly weighed the preceding considerations, I doubt not, will concur with me in the opinion that there is no station in life—no, not excepting even the clerical office, that, in order to be well filled, so much demands purity of heart, simplicity of life, Christian courtesy, and every thing that will ennoble man, and beautify and give dignity to the human character, as that of the primary school-teacher. He influences his pupils in the formation of habits and character, by precept, it is true, but chiefly by example. His example, then, should be such, that, if strictly followed by his pupils, it will lead them aright in all things, astray in nothing. It should be his chief concern to allure to brighter worlds on high, and himself lead the way. Then, and not till then, will he be prepared to magnify and fill his office.

But, it may be said, we have not a sufficiency of well-qualified teachers, according to this standard, to take the charge of all, or of any considerable part of our schools. This is very readily admitted. Some such, however, there are. These should be employed. Their influence will be felt by others. The present generation of teachers may be much improved by means of teachers' associations and teachers' institutes. By the establishment of normal schools, or teachers' seminaries, a higher grade of teachers may be trained up and qualified to take the charge of the next generation of scholars. These institutions have been established in several of the European states, in New England and New York, and more recently in Michigan, by the several State Legislatures, and to some extent in other states. "Those seminaries for training masters," says Lord Brougham, "are an invaluable gift to mankind, and lead to the indefinite improvement of education." In remarking upon their advantages, the same high authority says, "These training seminaries would not only teach the masters the branches of learning and science they are now deficient in, but would teach them what they know far less—the didactic art—the mode of imparting the knowledge which they have or may acquire; the best mode of training and dealing with children in all that regards both temper, capacity, and habits, and the means of stirring them to exertion, and controlling their aberrations."

Normal schools are essential to the complete success of any system of popular education. The necessity for their establishment can not fail to be apparent to any one at all competent to judge, when he considers the early age at which young persons of both sexes generally enter upon the business of school-teaching—or, perhaps I may more appropriately say, of "keeping" school; for the majority of them can hardly be regarded as competent to teach.

For the purpose of being more specific, and of impressing, if possible, upon the mind of the reader, the necessity of professional instruction, the author trusts he will be pardoned for introducing a few paragraphs from a report made nine years ago as county superintendent of common schools in the State of New York and which was printed at that time in the Assembly documents of that state. The author, at the time referred to, exercised a general supervision over more than twenty thousand children, aided in the examination of the teachers of twenty large townships, and visited and inspected their schools. Nine years' additional experience—four of which have been devoted to the supervision of the schools of a large state, and a considerable portion of the remaining time to the visitation of schools in different states—has convinced him that the condition of common schools, and the qualifications of teachers in those states of the Union where increased attention has not been bestowed upon the subject within a few years past, are not in advance of what they were at that time in the county referred to. The paragraphs introduced are included within brackets.

[Literary Qualifications.—Some of the teachers possess a very limited knowledge of the branches usually taught in our common schools. This is true even of a portion of those who have bestowed considerable attention upon some of the higher branches of study. There is in our common schools, and indeed in our higher schools, an undue anxiety to advance rapidly. A score of persons may be heard speaking of the number of their recitations, of their rapid progress, and perhaps of skipping difficulties, while hardly one will speak of progressing understandingly, and comprehending every principle as he proceeds. When students speak of their progress in study, their first qualifying word should be thorough, after which, if they please, they may add rapid.

The following circumstances, that have occurred in classes of both ladies and gentlemen who have presented themselves for examination as candidates for teaching, illustrate the nature and extent of the evil. I have more than once received, in answer to the question "What is language?" the following reply: "Language is an unlimited sense." I have met with some experienced teachers, holding two or three town certificates, who did not know one half of the marks and pauses used in writing. They could, indeed, generally recite the answers in the spelling-book with some degree of accuracy; but when the marks have been pointed out, and their names and use have been asked, teachers in service have sometimes mistaken the note of interrogation for a parenthesis, and made other as gross errors. In answer to the question "What is arithmetic?" I have several times received the following reply: "It is the art of science," etc. Sometimes this constitutes the entire reply. In one instance four fifths of the class united in this answer. The terms sum, remainder, product, and quotient are frequently applied indiscriminately in the four ground rules of arithmetic. There are, hence, three chances for them to be used erroneously where there is one chance for them to be correctly applied. The following expressions are common: Add up and set down the remainder; subtract and set down the quotient; multiply and write down the sum; divide and write down the product, etc.: never so much as thinking that sum belongs to addition; remainder, to subtraction; product, to multiplication; and quotient, to division. In attending the examination of such teachers, any person of discernment will soon become satisfied that with them "language is an unlimited sense;" that "arithmetic is the art of science;" and that grammar, too, is "the art of science;" for the same answer has been given to the question, "What is grammar?" I introduce these things, not for the purpose of ridiculing any portion of our teachers, but to exemplify the extent of the evil under consideration.

The majority of teachers manifest a tolerable familiarity with the branches usually taught in our common schools. They have not, however, generally studied more than one author on the same subject.

A portion of our teachers, it gives me pleasure to add, are not only superior scholars in the common English branches, but they have made respectable attainments in philosophy, astronomy, chemistry, algebra, Latin, etc. All of these branches are successfully taught in a few of our schools.

School Government.—There is, perhaps, as wide a difference in the administration of government in our common schools as in any other particular connected with them. Good government requires the healthful exercise of a rare combination of good qualities. But this can not reasonably be expected in inexperienced youth, who, instead of being guided by enlightened moral sentiment, have not only never subjected themselves to government, but are totally unacquainted with the principles upon which it should be administered. About one third of our schools are tolerably well governed. A portion of them are under a wise and parental supervision, the government being uniformly mild, and at the same time efficient. But indecision, rashness, and inefficiency are far more common. Sometimes teachers resolve to have no whispering, leaving seats, asking questions, etc., among any of the scholars, and severely punish every detected offender. Soon a portion of the patrons justly manifest dissatisfaction. Then all attempts to govern the school are unwisely given up. Many teachers thus rashly fly from one extreme of government to the other, without stopping to test the "golden mean," or even appearing to bestow a single thought upon the subject.

Again: the feelings of the teacher have been outraged by having frequently witnessed severity, and even cruelty, in government; and, in studiously avoiding them, he has inadvertently adopted a lax government, if government it may be called. The latter may be the more amiable extreme, but it is hardly the less fatal. I have heard scholars say in the presence of such a teacher, "We have a good teacher, who gives us all the good advice we need, and then lets us do as we please;" and then I have witnessed whispering, talking, chewing gum and throwing it about the house, passing from seat to seat, playing with tops and whirls, tossing wads of wet paper about the house and to the ceiling, cutting images upon the desks, imitating the practice of botanic physicians, exhibiting and passing from one to another roots and herbs, and discoursing upon their properties, chasing mice about the house, and in some instances slaying them, and practicing sundry other antics too numerous to be mentioned. Good advice was freely given, but it was disregarded with impunity.

Government in school, as elsewhere, should be mild but efficient. The teacher should speak kindly, but with authority. Every request should meet with a ready compliance. The scholars will not only fear to disobey such a teacher, but will, at the same time, respect, and even love him. This is not only good theory, but is susceptible of being reduced to practice. It is, indeed, exemplified in many of our schools, as a visit to them will clearly manifest. I know of no one thing in school government more mischievous in its tendency than the habit of speaking several times without being obeyed.

Mode of Instruction.—In some schools the instruction is thorough and systematic. In them the scholars generally learn principles, and understand, and are able to explain, all that they pass over. But this is the case in comparatively few schools. Scholars generally are poorly instructed, and understand very imperfectly what they profess to have learned. I will give a few illustrations:

First. Scholars are frequently introduced to the twenty-six letters of the alphabet four times a day for several weeks in succession, without making a single acquaintance. They occasionally become so familiar with their names and order as to repeat them down and back, as well without the book as with it, before learning a single letter.

This method of instruction is as unphilosophical as it is unsuccessful. Were I to be introduced to twenty-six strangers, and were my introducer to pronounce their names in rapid succession down and back, giving me merely an opportunity of pronouncing them after him, I should hardly expect to form a single acquaintance with twenty-six introductions. But were he to introduce me to one, and give me an opportunity of shaking hands with him, of conversing with him, of observing his features, etc.; and were he then to introduce me to another, in like manner, with the privilege of shaking hands again with the first, before my introduction to the third; and were he thus to introduce me to them all successively, I might form twenty-six acquaintances with one introduction.

The application is readily made. Introduce the abecedarian to but one letter at first. Describe it to him familiarly. Fix its contour distinctly in his mind. Compare it with things with which he is acquainted, if it will admit of such comparison. It might be well to make the letter upon a slate or black-board. When he shall have become acquainted with one letter so as to know it any where, introduce him to another. After he becomes acquainted with the second, let him again point out the first. As he learns new letters, he will thus retain a knowledge of those he has previously learned. It is immaterial where we commence, provided two conditions are fulfilled. It would be well to have the first letters as simple in their construction, and as easily described, as possible. It would be well, also, to have them so selected as to combine and form simple words, with which the child is familiar. He will thus become encouraged in his first efforts.

Suppose we commence with O, and tell the child that it is round; that it is shaped like the button on his coat, or like a penny, which might be shown to him. After the child has become somewhat familiar with its shape and name, suppose we inquire what there was on the breakfast table shaped like O. It may be necessary to name a few articles, as knives, forks, spoons, plates. Before there is time to proceed further, the child, in nine cases out of ten, will say, "The plates look like O." Suppose we next take X, which may be represented by crossing the fore-fingers, or two little sticks. We can now teach the child that these two letters, combined, spell ox. We might then tell him a familiar story about oxen; that we put a yoke on them; that they draw the cart, etc.; and that cart-wheels are great O's. Suppose we take B next. We might tell the child that it is a straight line with two bows on the right side of it, and that it is shaped some like the ox-yoke. We might then instruct him that these three letters, B, O, and X, combined, spell box; that its top and sides are rectangles, and that its ends are squares, if they are so. The child has now learned three letters, two words, and a score of ideas. He, moreover, likes to go to school. Any other method in which children would be equally interested might be pursued instead of this, which is only introduced as a specimen of the manner in which the alphabet has been successfully taught.[74] Better methods may be devised.

Second. The Roman notation table is sometimes taught after the same manner. After spelling, I have heard the teacher say to the class, One I.? to which the scholar at the head would reply, one; and the exercise would continue through the class, as follows: two I.'s? two; three I.'s? three; IV.? four; and so on, to two X.'s? twenty; three X.'s? twenty-one. No, says the teacher, thirty. Thus corrected, the class went through the entire table, without making another mistake. The thought occurred to me that they did not know their lesson, though they had recited it, making but one mistake. With the permission of the teacher, I inquired of the class, "What does IV. stand for?" None of them could tell. I then inquired, "What do VII. stand for?" They all shook their heads. I next inquired, "What does IX. stand for?" and the teacher remarked, "They have just got it learnt the other way; they ha'n't learnt it that way yet." They had all learned to count; they hence recited correctly to twenty; and when told that three X.'s stand for thirty instead of twenty-one, they passed on readily to forty, fifty, sixty, etc., without making another mistake. And this, too, is but a specimen of the evil.

In teaching this table, the child should be instructed, in the beginning, that there are but seven letters used, by which all numbers may be represented; that when standing alone, I. represents one; V., five; X., ten; L., fifty; C, one hundred; D., five hundred; and M., one thousand. The child should next be taught that, as often as a letter is repeated, so many times its value is repeated; thus, X. represents ten; two X.'s, twenty; three X.'s, thirty, etc.; that when a letter representing a less number is placed after one representing a greater, its value is to be added; thus, VII. represent seven; LX., sixty, etc.; that when a letter representing a less number is placed before one representing a greater, its value is to be subtracted; thus, IV. represents four; IX., nine; XL., forty, etc. When the child understands what is here presented, he has the key to the whole matter. He is acquainted with the principle upon which the tables are constructed, and a little practice will enable him to apply it, as well to what is not in the table as to what is in it. I have known scholars study that table faithfully four months, and then have but an imperfect knowledge of what was in the book. I have known others who, with one hour's study, after five minutes' instruction in the principles here laid down, understood the table perfectly, and could recite it, without making a single mistake, even before they had studied the whole of it once over.

Third. The manner in which reading is generally taught is hardly superior to the modes of instruction already considered. In many instances, commendable effort is made to secure correct pronunciation, and a proper observance of the inflections and pauses. But there is a great lack in understanding what is read. When visiting schools, with the permission of the teacher, I usually interrogate reading classes with reference to the meaning of what they have read. Occasionally I receive answers that give satisfactory evidences of correct instruction. Generally, however, the scholars have no distinct idea concerning the author's meaning. They, astonished, sometimes say, "I didn't know as the meaning has any thing to do with reading; I try to pronounce the words right, and mind the stops." Teachers sometimes say their scholars are poor readers, and it takes all their attention to pronounce their words correctly. They therefore do not wish to have them try to understand what they read, thinking it would be a hinderance to them. They occasionally justify themselves in the course they pursue, saying, "I don't have time to question my classes on their reading, nor hardly time to look over and correct mistakes." At the same time they will read three or four times around, twice a day or oftener. The idea prevails extensively, judging from the practice of teachers, that the value of their services depends upon the extent of the various exercises of the school. If the classes can read several times around, twice a day, and spell two or three pages, teachers frequently think they have done well, even though one half of the mistakes in reading are uncorrected, and one fourth or more of the words in the spelling lessons are misspelled, to say nothing of understanding what is read. The majority of schools might be very much improved by conducting them upon the principle that "what is worth doing at all is worth doing well." I am fully satisfied that it is incomparably better for classes to read once around, once a day, and understand what they read, than to read four times around, four times a day, without understanding their lessons. Scholars should, indeed, never be allowed to read what is beyond their comprehension; and great pains should be taken to see that they actually understand every lesson, and every book read. The early formation of such a habit will be of incalculable value in after life.

I will introduce one extract from my note-book by way of illustration. The reader will please observe that it relates to neither a back district nor an inexperienced teacher.

"This is one of the oldest and most important districts in town. The school is taught by an experienced and highly-reputable teacher. The first class in the English Reader read the section entitled 'The Journey of a Day; a Picture of Human Life.' Obidah had been contemplating the beauties of nature, visiting cascades, viewing prospects, etc., and in these amusements the hours passed away uncounted, till 'day vanished from before him, and a sudden tempest gathered around his head;' when, it is said, 'he beheld through the brambles the glimmer of a taper.' I inquired of the class, 'What is a taper?' No one replied. I added, 'It is either the sun, a light, a house, or a man,' whereupon one replied, 'the sun;' another, 'a house;' another still, 'a house;' and still another, 'a man.' I next inquired, 'What does glimmer mean?' No reply being given, I added, 'It either means a light, the shadow, the top, or the bottom.' They then replied successively as follows: 'Top, shadow, bottom,' which would give their several ideas of the phrase, 'the glimmer of a taper,' as follows: The shadow of a house. The top of a man. The bottom of the sun, etc. It should be borne in mind, the class had just read that this 'taper' was discovered after 'day had vanished from sight.'"

This example is selected from among more than a hundred, scores of which are more striking illustrations than the one introduced, which is selected because it occurred in the first class of an important school, taught by an experienced and highly-reputable teacher.

The habit of reading without understanding originates mainly in the circumstance that the books put into the hands of children are to them uninteresting. The style and matter are often above their comprehension. It is impossible, for example, for children at an early age to understand the English Reader, a work which frequently constitutes their only reading-book (at least in school) when but seven years of age. The English Reader is an excellent book, and would grace the library of any gentleman. But it requires a better knowledge of language, and more maturity of mind than is often possessed by children ten years old, to understand it, and to be interested in its perusal. Hence its use induces the habit of "pronouncing the words and minding the stops," with hardly a single successful effort to arrive at the idea of the author. To this early-formed habit may be traced the prevailing indifference, and, in some instances, aversion to reading, manifested not only in childhood, but in after life.

The matter and style of the reading-book should be adapted to the capacity and taste of the learner. The teacher should see that it is well understood, and then it can hardly prove uninteresting, or be otherwise than well read. Children should read less in school than they ordinarily do, and greater pains should be taken to have them understand every sentence, and word even, of what they do read. They will thus become more interested in their reading, and read much more extensively, not only while young, but in after life, and with incomparably more profit.

Fourth. I have heard several classes in geography bound states and counties with a considerable degree of accuracy, when none of them could point to the north, south, east, or west. Indeed, a portion of them were not aware that these terms relate to the four cardinal points of the compass. Still more: some of them say that "geography is a description of the earth," but they do not know as they ever saw the earth. They have no idea that they live upon it. Scholars in grammar frequently think that the only object of the study is to enable them to recite the definitions and rules, and to parse. They do not look for any assistance in thinking, speaking, or writing correctly, neither do they expect any aid therefrom in understanding what they read.

Classes in arithmetic not unfrequently think the principal object in pursuing that science is to be able to do the sums according to the rule, and perhaps to prove them. Propose to them a practical question for solution, and their reply is, "That isn't in the arithmetic." Some one more courageous may say, "If you'll tell me what rule it is in, I'll try it!" Practical questions should be added by the teacher, till the class can readily apply the principles of each rule to the ordinary transactions of business in which they are requisite. Generally, in grammar, arithmetic, and elsewhere, there is too much inquiry, comparatively, after the how, and too little after the why.]

Now if these paragraphs, descriptive of the condition of common schools and the qualifications of teachers at the commencement of the educational reform in New York, are applicable to those states of the Union whose provisions for general education are not equal to what hers then were, nothing can be plainer than that there exists an imperative demand for the establishment of normal schools in every part of the Union. Massachusetts has three; but her provisions in this respect are not adequate to her necessities.

Union schools, and systems of graded schools in cities and villages, should possess a normal characteristic; that is, young men and women who have the requisite natural and acquired ability should be employed as assistants in the lower departments, and should sustain essentially the relation of apprenticed teachers, to be promoted or discontinued according as they shall prove themselves worthy or otherwise. In the public schools of the city of New York there are about two hundred teachers of this description. These and all the less experienced teachers meet at a stated time every week for the purpose of receiving normal instruction from a committee of teachers whose instructions are adapted to their wants. A similar feature has been adopted in other cities, and in many villages, and should become universal among us.

In connection with the suggestions I have just introduced from a former report, I wish to say, I know of no reform which is more needed in our schools than that of rendering instruction at once thorough and practical. The suggestion in the note on the 428th page, in relation to teaching the alphabet, will admit of general application. As fast as principles are learned, they should be applied. Practical questions for the exercise of the student should be interspersed with the lessons in all our text-books, when the nature of the subject will admit of it. When these are not given by the author, they should be supplied by the teacher.

I will illustrate by an example. Several years ago a teacher had the charge of a class in natural philosophy. There were no questions in the text-book used for the exercise of the student, as here recommended. In treating upon the hydraulic press, the author said, in relation to the force to be obtained by its use, "If a pressure of two tons be given to a piston, the diameter of which is only a quarter of an inch, the force transmitted to the other piston, if three feet in diameter, would be upward of forty thousand tons." The teacher inquired of the class, How much upward of forty thousand tons would the pressure be? Not one in a large class was prepared to answer the question. Some of the scholars laughed outright at the idea of asking such a question. After a few familiar remarks by the teacher, the class was dismissed. This question, however, constituted a part of their review lesson. The next day found it solved by every member of the class. Several of the scholars said to the teacher that they had derived more practical information in relation to natural philosophy from the solution of this one question, than they had previously acquired in studying it several quarters.

In treating upon the velocity of falling bodies, such questions as the following might be asked: Suppose a body in a vacuum falls sixteen feet the first second, how far will it fall the first three seconds? How far will it fall the next three seconds? How much further will it fall during the ninth second than in the fifth? If this paragraph should be read by any teacher or student of natural philosophy who has not been accustomed thus to apply principles, the author would suggest that it may be found pleasant and perhaps profitable to pause and solve these questions before reading further.

The importance of reducing immediately to practice every thing that is learned, is no less essential in moral and religious education than in physical or intellectual. Indeed, any thing short of this is jeoparding one's dearest interests; for "to him that knoweth to do good and doeth it not, to him it is sin." The practical educator should bear in mind that man is susceptible of progression in his moral and religious nature as well as in his physical and intellectual. "Cease to do evil; learn to do well," is the Divine command. He who does only the former has but a negative goodness. The practice of the latter is essential to the healthful condition of the soul. It is important that we seek earnestly to be "cleansed from secret faults." Without this, our progress in excellence will at best be slow. While "the way of the wicked is as darkness, and they stumble at they know not what," it is nevertheless true that "the path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day."

Understanding what we do of the nature of man, the subject of education, and knowing that "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom," and that the Great Teacher, who "taught as one having authority," hath said, "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness," can we regard it any thing less than consummate folly to enter upon the work of education in the open neglect of these precepts? Should we not rather cheerfully comply with them, and do what we can to encourage all teachers, and all who receive instruction, to regard this law of progression, so that, while their physical and intellectual natures are being cultivated and developed, they may not remain "babes" in the practice of morality and the Christian virtues, but "grow in grace and in the knowledge of the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?"

We can not expect the student will excel his teacher, if indeed he equals him, in merely intellectual pursuits; much less can we reasonably look for superior attainments in morals and religion. If, then, the teacher would secure the most perfect obedience of his scholars from the highest motives, he must show them that he himself cheerfully and habitually complies, in heart and in life, with all the precepts of the Great Teacher, with whom is lodged all authority, and from whom he derives his. When the members of a school become convinced that their teacher habitually asks wisdom of the Supreme Educator, whose will he aims constantly to do, they will feel almost irresistibly urged to yield obedience to the precepts of Christianity, and, with suitable encouragement, will take upon themselves the easy yoke of Christ.[75]

Even common arithmetic, when well taught, and illustrated by judiciously constructed examples, may be made not only more practical than it has usually been heretofore, but while the student is becoming acquainted with the science of numbers, it may be rendered an efficient instrumentality in showing the advantages of knowledge and virtue, and the expense and burden to the community of ignorance and crime, thus promoting the great work of moral culture, as is beautifully illustrated by the following examples, selected from a recent treatise on that subject:

"In the town of Bury, England, with an estimated population of twenty-five thousand, the expenditure for beer and spirits, in the year 1836, was estimated at £54,190. If this was 24 per cent. of the entire loss, resulting from the waste of money, ill health, loss of labor, and the other evils attendant upon intoxication, what was the average loss from intemperance, for each man, woman, and child in the place, estimating the pound sterling at $4.80. Ans. $43,332."

This one example may do more, in many instances, toward establishing young men who may be engaged in its solution in habits of total abstinence, than a score of lectures on temperance, or as many lessons on domestic or political economy. The following, also, may more effectually check existing abuses of some of the laws of health and longevity than a month's study of physiology and moral science: "It has been estimated that a man, in a properly ventilated room, can work twelve hours a day with no greater inconvenience than would be occasioned by ten hours' work in a room badly ventilated; and that, where there is proper ventilation, a man may gain ten years' good labor on account of unimpaired health. According to this estimate, what is the loss in thirty years to each individual in a badly-ventilated work-shop, valuing the labor at ten cents per hour? Ans. $5008." What an astonishing result! Five thousand and eight dollars moneyed loss to each individual who respires impure air, estimating labor at but ten cents an hour.

Now suppose this loss occurs only in the case of the eight hundred thousand voters in the United States who are unable to read and write—and it must accrue to a much greater number of persons—and one fourth of the annual loss would be sufficient to maintain an efficient system of common schools in every state of the Union the entire year.

It has sometimes been said, even by individuals occupying high stations in society, that persons of the second or third order of intellect make the best school-teachers. But in the light of what has been said, this statement needs but be made to prove its fallacy. In order properly to fill the teachers' office, we need men and women of the first order of intellect, brought to a high state of cultivation. A well-qualified and faithful school-teacher earns, and of right ought to receive, a salary equal to that paid to the clergyman, or received by the members of the other learned professions. He who can teach a good school can ordinarily engage with proportionate success in more lucrative pursuits. So true is this remark, that scarcely a man can be found that has attained to any considerable eminence as a teacher, who has not been repeatedly solicited, and perhaps strongly tempted, to relinquish teaching and engage in pursuits less laborious and more profitable. Many yield to this temptation, and hence much of the best talent has been attracted to the other professions. School committees, however, can generally secure the services of teachers of any grade of qualifications they desire, upon the simple condition of offering an adequate remuneration.

We have said, as is the teacher so will be the school. We might add, as are the wages, so ordinarily is the teacher. Let it be understood that in any township, county, or state, a high order of teachers is called for, and that an adequate remuneration will be given, and the demand will be supplied. Well-qualified teachers will be called in from abroad until competent ones can be trained up at home. Here, as in other departments of labor, as is the demand, so will be the supply.

The best means which citizens can employ to give character and stability to the vocation of the teacher is to select competent and worthy individuals to take the charge of their schools, and then pay them so liberally that they can have no pecuniary inducement to change their employment. Let this be generally done, and teaching will soon be raised, in public estimation, to the rank of a learned profession; and the fourth learned profession—the vocation of the practical educator—will be taken up for life by as great a proportion of men and women eminent for talent, cultivation, and moral worth, as either of the other three professions have ever been able to boast.