The Teacher Part 9

Such minuteness and simplicity would, in ordinary cases, not be necessary. I go into it here, merely to show, how, by simply subdividing the steps, a subject ordinarily perplexing, may be made plain. The reader will observe that in the above, there are no explanations by the teacher, there are not even leading questions; that is, there are no questions whose form suggests the answers desired. The pupil goes on from step to step, simply because he has but one short step to take at a time.

"Can it be noon, then," continues the teacher, "here and at a place fifteen degrees west of us, at the same time?"

"Can it be noon here, and at a place ten miles west of us, at the same time?"

It is unnecessary to continue the ill.u.s.tration, for it will be very evident to every reader, that by going forward in this way, the whole subject may be laid out before the pupils, so that they shall perfectly understand it. They can, by a series of questions like the above, be led to see by their own reasoning, that time, as denoted by the clock, must differ in every two places, not upon the same meridian, and that the difference must be exactly proportional to the difference of longitude.

So that a watch, which is right in one place, cannot, strictly speaking, be right in any other place, east or west of the first: and that, if the time of day, at two places, can be compared, either by taking a chronometer from one to another, or by observing some celestial phenomenon, like the eclipses of Jupiter's satellites, and ascertaining precisely the time of their occurrence, according to the reckoning at both; the distances east or west, by degrees, may be determined. The reader will observe, too, that the method by which this explanation is made, is strictly in accordance with the principle I am ill.u.s.trating,--which is by simply _dividing the process into short steps_. There is no ingenious reasoning on the part of the teacher, no happy ill.u.s.trations; no apparatus, no diagrams. It is a pure process of mathematical reasoning, made clear and easy by _simple a.n.a.lysis_.

In applying this method, however, the teacher should be very careful not to subdivide too much. It is best that the pupils should walk as fast as they can. The object of the teacher should be to smooth the path, not much more than barely enough to enable the pupil to go on. He should not endeavor to make it very easy.

(2.) Truths must not only be taught to the pupils, but they must be _fixed_, and _made familiar_. This is a point which seems to be very generally overlooked.

"Can you say the Multiplication Table?" said a teacher, to a boy, who was standing before him, in his cla.s.s.

"Yes sir."

"Well, I should like to have you say the line beginning nine times one."

The boy repeated it slowly, but correctly.

"Now I should like to have you try again, and I will, at the same time, say another line, to see if I can put you out."

The boy looked surprised. The idea of his teacher's trying to perplex and embarra.s.s him, was entirely new.

"You must not be afraid," said the teacher; "you will undoubtedly not succeed in getting through, but you will not be to blame for the failure. I only try it, as a sort of intellectual experiment."

The boy accordingly began again, but was soon completely confused by the teacher's accompaniment; he stopped in the middle of his line saying,

"I could say it, only you put me out."

"Well, now try to say the Alphabet, and let me see if I can put you out there."

As might have been expected the teacher failed. The boy went regularly onward to the end.

"You see now," said the teacher to the cla.s.s which had witnessed the experiment, "that this boy knows his Alphabet, in a different sense, from that in which he knows his Multiplication table. In the latter, his knowledge is only imperfectly his own; he can make use of it only under favorable circ.u.mstances. In the former it is entirely his own; circ.u.mstances have no control over him."

A child has a lesson in Latin Grammar to recite. She hesitates and stammers, miscalls the cases, and then corrects herself, and if she gets through at last, she considers herself as having recited well; and very many teachers would consider it well too. If she hesitates a little longer than usual, in trying to summon to her recollection a particular word, she says, perhaps, "Don't tell me," and if she happens at last to guess right, she takes her book with a countenance beaming with satisfaction.

"Suppose you had the care of an infant school," might the instructer say to such a scholar; "and were endeavoring to teach a little child to count, and she should recite her lesson to you in this way; 'One, two, four, no, three;--one, two, three,-- -- stop, don't tell me,--five--no four--four--, five,-- -- -- I shall think in a minute,--six--is that right? five, six, &c.' Should you call that reciting well?"

Nothing is more common than for pupils to say, when they fail of reciting their lesson, that they could say it at their seats, but that they cannot now say it, before the cla.s.s. When such a thing is said for the first time, it should not be severely reproved, because nine children in ten honestly think, that if the lesson was learned so that it could be recited any where, their duty is discharged. But it should be kindly, though distinctly explained to them, that, in the business of life, they must have their knowledge so much at command, that they can use it, at all times, and in all circ.u.mstances, or it will do them little good.

One of the most common causes of difficulty in pursuing mathematical studies, or studies of any kind, where the succeeding lessons depend upon those which precede, is the fact that the pupil, though he may understand what precedes, is not _familiar_ with it. This is very strikingly the case with Geometry. The cla.s.s study the definitions, and the teacher supposes they fully understand them; in fact, they do _understand_ them, but the name and the thing are so feebly connected in their minds, that a direct effort, and a short pause, are necessary to recall the idea, when they hear or see the word. When they come on therefore to the demonstrations, which, in themselves, would be difficult enough, they have double duty to perform. The words used do not readily suggest the idea, and the connexion of the ideas requires careful study. Under this double burden, many a young geometrician sinks discouraged.

A cla.s.s should go on slowly, and dwell on details, so long as to fix firmly, and make perfectly familiar, whatever they undertake to learn.

In this manner, the knowledge they acquire will become their own. It will be incorporated, as it were, into their very minds, and they cannot afterwards be deprived of it.

The exercises which have for their object this rendering familiar what has been learned, may be so varied as to interest the pupil very much, instead of being tiresome, as it might, at first be supposed.

Suppose, for instance, a teacher has explained to a large cla.s.s in grammar, the difference between an adjective and an adverb: if he leave it here, in a fortnight, one half would have forgotten the distinction, but by dwelling upon it, a few lessons, he may fix it for ever. The first lesson might be to write twenty short sentences containing only adjectives. The second to write twenty, containing only adverbs. The third, to write sentences in two forms, one containing the adjective, and the other expressing the same idea by means of the adverb, arranging them in two columns, thus,

He writes well. | His writing is good.

Again, they may make out a list of adjectives, with the adverbs derived from each, in another column. Then they may cla.s.sify adverbs on the principle of their meaning, or according to their termination. The exercise may be infinitely varied, and yet the object of the whole may be, to make _perfectly familiar_, and to fix for ever in the mind, the distinction explained.

These two points seem to me to be fundamental, so far as a.s.sisting pupils through the difficulties which lie in their way, is concerned.

Diminish the difficulties as far as is necessary, by merely shortening and simplifying the steps, and make thorough work as you go on. These principles carried steadily into practice, will be effectual, in leading any mind through any difficulties which may occur. And though they cannot perhaps be fully applied to every mind, in a large school, yet they can be so far acted upon, in reference to the whole ma.s.s, as to accomplish the object for a very large majority.

3. _General cautions._ A few miscellaneous suggestions, which we shall include under this head, will conclude this chapter.

(1.) Never do any thing _for_ a scholar, but teach him to do it for himself. How many cases occur, in the schools of our country, where the boy brings his slate to the teacher, saying he cannot do a certain sum.

The teacher takes the slate and pencil,--performs the work in silence,--brings the result,--and returns the slate to the hands of his pupil, who walks off to his seat, and goes to work on the next example; perfectly satisfied with the manner in which he is pa.s.sing on. A man who has not done this a hundred times himself, will hardly believe it possible that such a practice can prevail. It is so evidently a waste of time, both for master and scholar.

(2.) Never get out of patience with dulness. Perhaps I ought to say, never get out of patience with any thing. That would perhaps be the wisest rule. But above all things, remember that dulness and stupidity, and you will certainly find them in every school, are the very last things to get out of patience with. If the Creator has so formed the mind of a boy, that he must go through life slowly and with difficulty, impeded by obstructions which others do not feel, and depressed by discouragements which others never know, his lot is surely hard enough, without having you to add to it the trials and suffering, which sarcasm and reproach from you, can heap upon him. Look over your school-room, therefore, and wherever you find one, whom you perceive the Creator to have endued with less intellectual power than others, fix your eye upon him with an expression of kindness and sympathy. Such a boy will have suffering enough from the selfish tyranny of his companions; he ought to find in you, a protector and friend. One of the greatest pleasures which a teacher's life affords, is, the interest of seeking out such an one, bowed down with burdens of depression and discouragement,--unaccustomed to sympathy and kindness, and expecting nothing for the future, but a weary continuation of the cheerless toils, which have imbittered the past;--and the pleasure of taking off the burden, of surprising the timid disheartened sufferer by kind words and cheering looks, and of seeing, in his countenance, the expression of ease and even of happiness, gradually returning.

(3.)The teacher should be interested in _all_ his scholars, and aim equally to secure the progress of all. Let there be no neglected ones in the school room. We should always remember that, however unpleasant in countenance and manners that bashful boy, in the corner, may be, or however repulsive in appearance, or unhappy in disposition, that girl, seeming to be interested in n.o.body, and n.o.body appearing interested in her, they still have, each of them, a mother, who loves her own child, and takes a deep and constant interest in its history. Those mothers have a right too, that their children should receive their full share of attention, in a school which has been established for the common and equal benefit of all.

(4.) Do not hope or attempt to make all your pupils alike. Providence has determined that human minds should differ from each other, for the very purpose of giving variety and interest to this busy scene of life.

Now if it were possible for a teacher, so to plan his operations, as to send his pupils forth upon the community, formed on the same model, as if they were made by machinery, he would do so much, towards spoiling one of the wisest of the plans which the Almighty has formed, for making this world a happy scene. Let it be the teacher's aim to cooperate with, not vainly to attempt to thwart the designs of Providence. We should bring out those powers with which the Creator has endued the minds placed under our control. We must open our garden to such influences as shall bring forward all the plants, each, in a way corresponding to its own nature. It is impossible, if it were wise, and it would be foolish, if it were possible, to stimulate, by artificial means, the rose, in hope of its reaching the size and magnitude of the apple-tree, or to try to cultivate the fig and the orange, where wheat only will grow. No; it should be the teacher's main design, to shelter his pupils from every deleterious influence, and to bring every thing to bear upon the community of minds before him, which will encourage, in each one, the developement of its own native powers. For the rest, he must remember that his province is to cultivate, not to create.

Error on this point, is very common. Many teachers, even among those who have taken high rank, through the success with which they have labored in this field, have wasted much time, in attempting to do what can never be done; to form the character of those brought under their influence, after a certain uniform model, which they have conceived as the standard of excellence. Their pupils must write just such a hand, they must compose in just such a style, they must be similar in sentiment and feeling, and their manners must be formed according to a fixed and uniform model; and when, in such a case, a pupil comes under their charge whom Providence has designed to be entirely different from the beau ideal adopted as the standard, more time and pains, and anxious solicitude is wasted in vain attempts to produce the desired conformity, than half the school require beside.

(5.) Do not allow the faults or obliquities of character, or the intellectual or moral wants, of any individual, of your pupils, to engross a disproportionate share of your time. I have already said, that those who are peculiarly in need of sympathy or help, should receive the special attention they seem to require; what I mean to say now, is, do not carry this to an extreme. When a parent sends you a pupil, who, in consequence of neglect or mismanagement, at home, has become wild and ungovernable, and full of all sorts of wickedness, he has no right to expect, that you shall turn your attention away from the wide field, which, in your whole school-room, lies before you, to spend your time, and exhaust your spirits and strength, in endeavoring to repair the injuries which his own neglect has occasioned. When you open a school, you do not engage, either openly or tacitly, to make every pupil who may be sent to you, a learned or a virtuous man. You do engage to give them all faithful instruction, and to bestow upon each such a degree of attention, as is consistent with the claims of the rest. But it is both unwise and unjust, to neglect the many trees in your nursery, which by ordinary attention, may be made to grow straight and tall, and to bear good fruit, that you may waste your labor upon a crooked stick, from which all your toil can secure very little beauty or fruitfulness.

Let no one now understand me to say, that such cases are to be neglected. I admit the propriety, and in fact, have urged the duty, of paying to them a little more than their due share of attention. What I now condemn is the practice, of which all teachers are in danger, of devoting such a disproportionate and unreasonable degree of attention to them, as to encroach upon their duties to others. The school, the whole school, is your field, the elevation _of the ma.s.s_, in knowledge and virtue, and no individual instance, either of dulness or precocity, should draw you away from its steady pursuit.

(6.) The teacher should guard against unnecessarily imbibing those faulty mental habits, to which his station and employment expose him.

Accustomed to command, and to hold intercourse with minds which are immature and feeble, compared with our own, we gradually acquire habits, that the rough collisions and the friction of active life, prevent from gathering around other men. Narrowminded prejudices and prepossessions are imbibed, through the facility, with which, in our own little community, we adopt and maintain opinions. A too strong confidence in our own views on every subject, almost inevitably comes, from never hearing our opinions contradicted or called in question; and we express those opinions in a tone of authority and even sometimes of arrogance, which we acquire in the school-room, for there, when we speak, n.o.body can reply.

These peculiarities show themselves first, and in fact, most commonly, in the school-room; and the opinions thus formed, very often relate to the studies and management of the school. One has a peculiar mode of teaching spelling, which is successful almost entirely through the magic influence of his interest in it, and he thinks no other mode of teaching this branch, is even tolerable. Another must have all his pupils write on the angular system, or the anti-angular system, and he enters with all the zeal into a controversy on the subject, as if the destiny of the whole rising generation, depended upon its decision. Tell him that all that is of any consequence in any handwriting, is, that it should be legible, rapid, and uniform, and that, for the rest, it would be better that every human being should write a different hand, and he looks upon you with astonishment, wondering that you cannot see the vital importance of the question, whether the vertex of an o should be pointed or round. So in every thing. He has _his way_ in every minute particular,--a way from which he cannot deviate, and to which he wishes every one else to conform.

This set, formal mannerism is entirely inconsistent with that commanding, intellectual influence, which the teacher should exert in the administration of his school. He should work, with what an artist calls boldness and freedom of touch. Activity and enterprise of mind should characterize all his measures, if he wishes to make bold, original, and efficient men.

(7.) a.s.sume no false appearances, in your school, either as to knowledge or character. Perhaps it may justly be said to be the common practice of teachers in this country, to affect dignity of deportment in the presence of their pupils, which, in other cases, is laid aside; and to pretend to superiority in knowledge, and an infallibility of judgment, which no sensible man would claim before other sensible men, but which an absurd fashion seems to require of the teacher. It can however scarcely be said to be a fashion, for the temptation is almost exclusively confined to the young and the ignorant, who think they must make up by appearance, what they want in reality. Very few of the older, and more experienced, and successful instructers in our country, fall into it at all. But some young beginner, whose knowledge is very limited, and who, in manner and habits, has only just ceased to be a boy, walks into his school-room with a countenance of forced gravity, and with a dignified and solemn step, which is ludicrous even to himself. I describe accurately, for I describe from recollection. This unnatural, and forced, and ludicrous dignity, cleaves to him like disease, through the whole period of his duty. In the presence of his scholars, he is always under restraint,--a.s.suming a stiff, and formal dignity, which is as ridiculous as it is unnatural. He is also obliged to resort to arts which are certainly not very honorable, to conceal his ignorance.

A scholar, for example, brings him a sum in arithmetic, which he does not know how to perform. This may be the case with a most excellent teacher,--and one well qualified for his business. In order to be successful as a teacher, it is not necessary to understand every thing.

Instead, however, of saying frankly, I do not understand that example, I will look at it and examine it, he looks at it embarra.s.sed and perplexed, not knowing how he shall escape the exposure of his ignorance. His first thought is, to give some general directions to the pupil, and send him to his seat to make a new experiment, hoping that in some way or other, he scarcely knows how, he will get through; and, at any rate, if he does not, the teacher at least gains time by manoeuvre, and is glad to postpone his trouble, though he knows it must soon return.

All efforts to conceal ignorance, and all affectation of knowledge not possessed, are as unwise as they are dishonest. If a scholar asks a question which you cannot answer, or brings you a difficulty which you cannot solve, say frankly, "I do not know." It is the only way to avoid continual anxiety and irritation, and the surest means of securing real respect. Let the scholars understand that the superiority of the teacher does not consist in his infallibility, or in his universal acquisitions, but in a well balanced mind, where the boundary between knowledge and ignorance is distinctly marked; in a strong desire to go forward, in mental improvement; and in fixed principles of action, and systematic habits. You may even take up in school, a study entirely new to you, and have it understood at the outset, that you know no more of it than the cla.s.s commencing, but that you can be their guide, on account of the superior maturity and discipline of your powers, and the comparative ease with which you can meet and overcome difficulties. This is the understanding which ought always to exist between master and scholars.

The fact that the teacher does not know every thing, cannot long be concealed, if he tries to conceal it; and in this, as in every other case, HONESTY IS THE BEST POLICY.

CHAPTER IV.

MORAL DISCIPLINE.