Throughout her whole deportment, there is an air of indolence, and a want of interest in those exercises which should engage her attention. In her seat, she most commonly sits in some lazy posture;—either with her elbows upon her desk, her head leaning upon her hands, or with her seat tipped forwards or backwards. When she has occasion to leave her seat, it is in a sauntering, lingering gait;—perhaps some trick is contrived on the way, for exciting the mirth of her companions.

About every thing in which it is possible to be so, she is untidy. Her books are carelessly used, and placed in her desk without order. If she has a piece of waste paper to dispose of, she finds it much more convenient to tear it into small pieces, and scatter it about her desk, than to put it in a proper place. Her hands and clothes are usually covered with ink. Her written exercises are blotted, and full of mistakes."

THE CONSEQUENCES OF BEING BEHINDHAND.

"The following incident, which I witnessed on a late journey, illustrates an important principle, and I will relate it.

When our steamboat started from the wharf, all our passengers had not come. After we had proceeded a few yards, there appeared among the crowd on the wharf, a man with his trunk under his arm,—out of breath,—and with a most disappointed and disconsolate air. The Captain determined to stop for him, but stopping an immense steamboat, moving swiftly through the water, is not to be done in a moment. So we took a grand sweep, wheeling majestically around an English ship, which was at anchor in the harbor. As we came towards the wharf again, we saw the man in a small boat, coming off from it. As the steamboat swept round, they barely succeeded in catching a rope from the stern, and then immediately the steam engine began its work again, and we pressed forward,—the little boat following us so swiftly, that the water around her was all in a foam.

They pulled upon the rope attached to the little boat, until they drew it alongside. They then let down a rope with a hook in the end of it, from an iron crane, which projected over the side of the steamboat, and hooked it into a staple in the front of the small boat. "Hoist away;" said the Captain. The sailors hoisted, and the front part of the little boat began to rise, the stern still ploughing and foaming through the water, and the man still in it, with his trunk under his arm. They "hoisted away," until I began to think that the poor man would actually tumble out behind. He clung to the seat, and looked as though he was saying to himself, "I will take care how I am tardy the next time." However, after awhile, they hoisted up the stern of the boat, and he got safely on board.

Moral. Though coming to school a few minutes earlier or later, may not in itself be a matter of much consequence, yet the habit of being five minutes too late, if once formed, will, in actual life, be a source of great inconvenience, and sometimes of lasting injury."

NEW SCHOLARS.

"There is, at——, a young ladies' school, taught by Mr.——.

* * * * * * * * *

But with all these excellences, there is one fault, which I considered a great one, and which does not comport with the general character of the school for kindness and good feeling. It is the little effort made by the scholars to become acquainted with the new ones who enter. Whoever goes there, must push herself forward, or she will never feel at home. The young ladies seem to forget, that the new comer must feel rather unpleasantly, in the midst of a hundred persons, to whom she is wholly a stranger, and with no one to speak to. Two or three will stand together, and instead of deciding upon some plan, by which the individual may be made to feel at ease, something like the following conversation takes place.

Miss X. How do you like the looks of Miss A., who entered school to-day?

Miss Y. I don't think she is very pretty, but she looks as if she might be a good scholar.

Miss X. She does not strike me very pleasantly; did you ever see such a face? And her complexion is so dark, I should think she had always lived in the open air; and what a queer voice she has!

Miss Y. I wonder if she has a taste for Arithmetic?

Miss X. She does not look as if she had much taste for any thing; see, how strangely she fixes her hair.

Miss S. Whether she has much taste or not, some one of us ought to go and get acquainted with her. See how unpleasantly she feels.

Miss X. I don't want to get acquainted with her, until I know whether I shall like her or not.

Thus nothing is done to relieve her. When she does become acquainted, all her first strange appearance is forgotten; but this is sometimes not the case for several weeks. It depends entirely on the character of the individual herself. If she is forward, and willing to make the necessary effort, she can find many friends; but if she is diffident, she has much to suffer. This arises principally from thoughtlessness. The young ladies do not seem to realize that there is any thing for them to do. They feel enough at home themselves, and the remembrance of the time when they entered school, does not seem to arise in their minds."

A SATIRICAL SPIRIT.

"I witnessed, a short time since, a meeting between two friends, who had had but little intercourse before, for a long while. I thought a part of their conversation might be useful, and I shall, therefore, relate it, as nearly as I can recollect, leaving each individual to draw her own inferences.

For some time, I sat silent but not uninterested, while the days of 'Auld Lang Syne' came up to the remembrance of the two friends. After speaking of several individuals, who were among their former acquaintances, one asked, 'Do you remember Miss W.?' 'Yes,' replied the former, 'I remember her as the fear, terror, and abhorrence of all who knew her.' I knew the lady by report, and asked why she was so regarded, the reply was, 'Because she was so severe, so satirical in her remarks upon others. She spared neither friend or foe.'

The friends resumed conversation. 'Did you know,' said the one who had first spoken of Miss W., 'that she sometimes had seasons of bitter repentance for indulging in this unhappy propensity of hers? She would, at such times, resolve to be more on her guard, but after all her good resolutions, she would yield to the slightest temptations. When she was expressing, and apparently really feeling sorrow for having wounded the feelings of others, those who knew her, would not venture to express any sympathy, for very likely, the next moment, that would be turned into ridicule. No confidence could be placed in her.'

A few more facts will be stated respecting the same individual, which I believe are strictly true. Miss W. possessed a fine and well cultivated mind, great penetration, and a tact at discriminating character, rarely equalled. She could, if she chose, impart a charm to her conversation, that would interest, and even fascinate those who listened to it; still she was not beloved. Weaknesses and foibles met with unmerciful severity; and well-meaning intentions and kind actions did not always escape without the keen sarcasm, which it is so difficult for the best regulated mind to bear unmoved. The mild and gentle seemed to shrink from her, and thus she, who might have been the bright and beloved ornament of the circle in which she moved, was regarded with distrust, fear, and even hatred. This dangerous habit of making satirical remarks was evinced in childhood; it was cherished; 'it grew with her growth and strengthened with her strength,' until she became what I have described." LAURA.

Though such a satirical spirit is justly condemned, a little good-humored raillery may sometimes be allowed, as a mode of attacking faults in school which cannot be reached by graver methods. The teacher must not be surprised, if some things connected with his own administration, come in, sometimes, for a share.

VARIETY.

"I was walking out, a few days since, and not being particularly in haste, I concluded to visit a certain school for an hour or two. In a few minutes after I had seated myself on the sofa, the 'Study Card,' was dropped, and the general noise and confusion, indicated that recess had arrived. A line of military characters, bearing the title of the 'Freedom's Band,' was soon called out, headed by one of their own number. The tune chosen to guide them was Kendall's march.

"'Please to form a regular line,' said the lady commander. 'Remember that there is to be no speaking in the ranks. Do not begin to step, until I strike the bell. Miss B., I requested you not to step until I gave the signal.'

"Presently the command was given, and the whole line stepped, for a few minutes, to all intents and purposes. Again the bell sounded;—'Some of you have lost the step,' said the general. 'Look at me, and begin again. Left! Right! Left! Right!' The line was once more in order, and I observed a new army on the opposite side of the room, performing the same manoeuvres, always to the tune of 'Kendall's March.' After a time, the recess closed, and order was again restored. In about half an hour, I approached a class, which was reciting behind the railing. 'Miss A.,' said a teacher, 'how many kinds of magnitude are there?' Miss A. ('Answer inaudible.') Several voices. 'We can't hear.' Teacher. 'Will you try to speak a little louder, Miss A.?'

"Some of the class at length seemed to guess the meaning of the young lady; but I was unable to do even that, until the answer was repeated by the teacher. Finding that I should derive little instruction from the recitation; I returned to the sofa.

"In a short time the propositions were read. 'Proposed that the committee be impeached, for not providing suitable pens.' 'Lost, a pencil, with a piece of India-rubber attached to it, by a blue riband,' &c. &c.

"Recess was again announced, and the lines commenced their evolutions to the tune of Kendall's March.' Thought I, 'Oh! that there were a new tune under the sun!'

"Before the close of school, some compositions were read. One was entitled 'The Magical Ring,' and commenced, 'As I was sitting alone last evening, I heard a gentle tap on the door, and immediately a beautiful fairy appeared before me. She placed a ring on my finger, and left me.' The next began, 'It is my week to write composition, but I do not know what to say. However, I must write something, so it shall be a dialogue.' Another was entitled the Magical Shoe,' and contained a marvellous narration of adventures made in a pair of shoes, more valuable than the farfamed 'seven league boots.' A fourth began, 'Are you acquainted with that new scholar?' 'No; but I don't believe I shall like her.' And soon the 'Magical Thimble,' the 'Magical Eye-glass,' &c., were read, in succession, until I could not but exclaim, 'How pleasing is variety!' School was at length closed, and the young ladies again attacked the piano. 'Oh!' repeated I, to myself, 'how pleasing is variety!' as I left the room, to the tune Of Kendall's March."]

By means like these, it will not be difficult for any teacher to obtain, so far an ascendancy over the minds of his pupils, as to secure an overwhelming majority in favor of good order, and co-operation with him in his plans for elevating the character of the school. But let it be distinctly understood, that this, and this only, has been the object of this chapter, thus far: The first point brought up, was the desirableness of making, at first, a favourable impression,—the second, the necessity of taking general views of the condition of the school, and aiming to improve it in the mass, and not merely to rebuke or punish accidental faults,—and the third, the importance and the means of gaining a general influence and ascendency over the minds of the pupils. But, though an overwhelming majority can be reached by such methods as these, all cannot. We must have the majority secured, however, in order to enable us to reach and to reduce the others. But to this work we must come at last.

4. I am therefore now to consider under a fourth general head, what course is to be taken with individual offenders, whom the general influences of the school-room will not control.

(1.) The first point to be attended to, is to ascertain who they are. Not by appearing suspiciously to watch any individuals, for this would be almost sufficient to make them bad, if they were not so before. Observe, however; notice, from day to day, the conduct of individuals, not for the purpose of reproving or punishing their faults, but to enable you to understand their characters. This work will often require great adroitness, and very close scrutiny; and you will find, as the results Of it, a considerable variety of character, which the general influences above described, will not be sufficient to control. The number of individuals will not he great, but the diversity of character comprised in it, will be such, as to call into exercise all your powers of vigilance and discrimination. On one seat, you will find a coarse, rough looking boy, who will openly disobey your commands and oppose your wishes; on another, a more sly rogue, whose demure and submissive look is assumed, to conceal a mischief-making disposition. Here is one, whose giddy spirit is always leading him into difficulty, but who is of so open and frank a disposition, that you will most easily lead him back to duty; but there is another, who, when reproved, will fly into a passion; and there, a third, who will stand sullen and silent before you, when he has done wrong, and is neither to be touched by kindness, nor awed by authority.

Now all these characters must be studied. It is true that the caution given in a preceding part of this chapter, against devoting undue and disproportionate attention to such persons must not be forgotten. Still, these individuals will require, and it is right that they should receive, a far greater degree of attention, so far as the moral administration of the school is concerned, than their mere numbers would appear to justify. This is the field in which the teacher is to study human nature; for here it shows itself without disguise. It is through this class, too, that a very powerful moral influence is to be exerted upon the rest of the school. The manner in which such individuals are managed; the tone the teacher assumes towards them; the gentleness with which he speaks of their faults, and the unbending decision with which he restrains them from wrong, will have a most powerful effect upon the rest of the school. That he may occupy this field, therefore, to the best advantage, it is necessary that he should first thoroughly explore it.

By understanding the dispositions and characters of such a class of pupils as I have described, I do not mean merely watching them, with vigilance, in school, so that none of their transgressions shall go unobserved and unpunished. I intend a far deeper and more thorough examination of character. Every boy has something or other which is good in his disposition and character, which he is aware of, and on which he prides himself; find out what it is, for it may often be made the foundation, on which you may build the superstructure of reform. Every one has his peculiar sources of enjoyment,—and objects of pursuit, which are before his mind from day to day; find out what they are, that by taking an interest in what interests him, and perhaps sometimes assisting him in his plans, you can bind him to you. Every boy is, from the circumstances in which he is placed at home, exposed to temptations, which have perhaps, had a far greater influence in the formation of his character, than any deliberate and intentional depravity of his own; ascertain what these temptations are, that you may know where to pity him, and where to blame. The knowledge which such an examination of character will give you, will not be confined to making you acquainted with the individual. It will be the most valuable knowledge which a man can possess, both to assist him in the general administration of the school, and in his intercourse among mankind in the business of life. Men are but boys, only with somewhat loftier objects of pursuit. Their principles, motives, and ruling passions are essentially the same. Extended commercial speculations are, so far as the human heart is concerned, substantially what trading in jack-knives and toys is, at school, and building a snow fort, to its own architects, the same as erecting a monument of marble.

(2.) After exploring the ground, the first thing to be done, as a preparation for reforming individual character, in school, is, to secure the personal attachment of the individuals to be reformed. This must not be attempted by professions and affected smiles, and still less by that sort of obsequiousness, common in such cases, which produces no effect but to make the bad boy suppose that his teacher is afraid of him; which, by the way, is, in fact, in such cases, usually true. Approach the pupil in a bold and manly, but frank and pleasant manner. Approach him as his superior, but still, as his friend; desirous to make him happy, not merely to obtain his good-will. And the best way to secure these appearances, is, just to secure the reality. Actually be the boy's friend. Really desire to make him happy;—happy, too, in his own way, not in yours. Feel that you are his superior, and that you must and will enforce obedience; but with this feel, that probably obedience will be rendered, without any contest. If these are really the feelings which reign within you, the boy will see it, and they will exert a strong influence over him, but you cannot counterfeit appearances.

A most effectual way to secure the good will of a scholar, is, to ask him to assist you. The Creator has so formed the human heart, that doing good must be a source of pleasure, and he who tastes this pleasure once, will almost always wish to taste it again. To do good to any individual, creates or increases the desire to do it.

There is a boy in your school, who is famous for his skill in making whistles from the green branches of the poplar. He is a bad boy, and likes to turn his ingenuity to purposes of mischief. You observe him some day in school, when he thinks your attention is engaged in another way, blowing softly upon one, which he has concealed in his desk, for the purpose of amusing his neighbors, without attracting the attention of the teacher. Now there are two remedies. Will you try the physical one? Then call him out into the floor; inflict painful punishment, and send him smarting to his seat, with his heart full of anger and revenge, to plot some new and less dangerous scheme of annoyance. Will you try the moral one? Then wait till the recess, and while he is out at his play, send a message out by another boy, saying that you have heard he is very skilful in making whistles, and asking him to make one for you to carry home to a little child at your boarding-house. What would, in ordinary cases, be the effect? It would certainly be a very simple application; but its effect would be, to open an entirely new train of thought and feeling for the boy. "What!" he would say to himself, while at work on his task, "give the master pleasure by making whistles! Who ever heard of such a thing? I never thought of any thing but giving him trouble and pain.—I wonder who told him I could make whistles?" He would find, too, that the new enjoyment was far higher and purer than the old, and would have little disposition to return to the latter.

I do not mean by this illustration, that such a measure as this, would be the only notice that ought to be taken of such an act of wilful disturbance in school. Probably it would not. What measures in direct reference to the fault committed, would be necessary, would depend upon the circumstances of the case. It is not necessary to our purpose, that they should be described here.

The teacher can awaken in the hearts of his pupils, a personal attachment for him, by asking in various ways, their assistance in school, and then appearing honestly gratified with the assistance rendered. Boys and girls are delighted to have what powers and attainments they possess, brought out into action, especially where they can lead to useful results. They love to be of some consequence in the world, and will be especially gratified to be able to assist their teacher. Even if the studies of a turbulent boy are occasionally interrupted for half an hour, that he might help you arrange papers, or rule books, or cut the tops of quills, or distribute exercises, it will be time well spent. Get him to co-operate with you in any thing, and he will feel how much pleasanter it is to co-operate, than to thwart and oppose; and by judicious measures of this kind, almost any boy may be brought over to your side.

Another means of securing the personal attachment of boys, is to notice them,—to take an interest in their pursuits, and the qualities and powers which they value in one another. It is astonishing what an influence is exerted by such little circumstances, as stopping at a play ground a moment, to notice with interest, though perhaps without saying a word, speed of running,—or exactness of aim,—the force with which a ball is struck,—or the dexterity with which it is caught or thrown. The teacher must, indeed, in all his intercourse with his pupils, never forget his station, nor allow them to lay aside the respect, without which authority cannot be maintained. But he may be, notwithstanding this, on the most intimate and familiar footing with them all. He may take a strong and open interest in all their enjoyments, and thus awaken on their part, a personal attachment to himself, which will exert over them a constant and powerful control.

(3.) The efforts described under the last head, for gaining a personal influence over those, who from their disposition and character are most in danger of doing wrong, will not be sufficient entirely to prevent transgression. Cases of deliberate, intentional wrong will occur, and the question will rise, what is the duty of the teacher in such an emergency? When such cases occur, the course to be taken is, first of all, to come to a distinct understanding on the subject with the guilty individual. Think of the case calmly, until you have obtained just and clear ideas of it. Endeavor to understand precisely in what the guilt of it consists. Notice every palliating circumstance, and take as favorable a view of the thing as you can, while, at the same time, you fix most firmly in your mind the determination to put a stop to it. Then go to the individual, and lay the subject before him, for the purpose of understanding distinctly from his own lips, what he intends to do. I can however, as usual, explain more fully what I mean, by describing a particular case, substantially true.

The teacher of a school observed, himself, and learned from several quarters, that a certain boy was in the habit of causing disturbance during time of prayer, at the opening and close of school, by whispering, playing, making gestures to the other boys, and throwing things about from seat to seat. The teacher's first step was, to speak of the subject, generally, before the whole school, not alluding, however, to any particular instance which had come under his notice. These general remarks produced, as he expected, but little effect.

He waited for some days, and the difficulty still continued. Had the irregularity been very great, it would have been necessary to have taken more immediate measures, but he thought the case admitted of a little delay. In the meantime, he took a little pains to cultivate the acquaintance of the boy, to discover and to show that he noticed what was good in his character and conduct, occasionally to get from him some little assistance, and thus to gain some personal ascendancy over him.

One day, when every thing had gone smoothly and pleasantly, the teacher told the boy, at the close of school, that he wanted to talk with him a little, and asked him to walk home with him. It was not uncommon for the teacher to associate thus, with his pupils, out of school, and this request, accordingly, attracted no special attention. On the walk, the teacher thus accosted the criminal.

"Do you like frank, open dealing, James?"

James hesitated a moment, and then answered faintly, "Yes sir."

"Most boys do, and I do; and I supposed that you would prefer being treated in that way. Do you?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, I am going to tell you of one of your faults. I have asked you to walk with me, because I supposed it would be pleasanter for you to have me see you privately, than to bring it up in school."

James said it would be pleasanter.

"Well, the fault is, being disorderly at prayer time. Now if you like frank and open dealing, and are willing to deal so with me, I should like to talk with you a little about it, but if you are not willing, I will dismiss the subject. I do not wish to talk with you now about it, unless you yourself desire it. But if we talk at all, we must both be open, and honest, and sincere. Now should you rather have me talk with you or not?"

"Yes sir, I should rather have you talk with me now, than in school."

The teacher then described his conduct, in a mild manner, using the style of simple narration,—admitting no harsh epithets,—no terms of reproach. The boy was surprised, for he supposed he had not been noticed. He thought, perhaps he should have been punished, if he had been observed. The teacher said in conclusion:

"Now, James, I do not suppose you have done this from any designed irreverence towards God, or deliberate intention of giving me trouble and pain. You have several times lately, assisted me, in various ways, and I know from the cheerful manner with which you comply with my wishes, that your prevailing desire is, to give me pleasure, not pain. You have fallen into this practice through thoughtlessness; but that does not alter the character of the sin. To do so, is a great sin against God, and a great offence against good order in school. You see, yourself, that my duty to the school, will require me to adopt the most decided measures, to prevent the continuance and the spread of such a practice. I should be imperiously bound to do it, even if the individual was the very best friend I had in school, and if the measures necessary, should bring upon him great disgrace and suffering. Do you not think it would be so?"

"Yes sir," said James, seriously, "I suppose it would."

"I want to remove the evil, however, in the pleasantest way. Do you remember my speaking on this subject, in school the other day?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, my object in that, was, almost entirely, to persuade you to reform, without having to speak to you directly. I thought it would be pleasanter to you to be reminded of your duty in that way. But I do not think it did you much good. Did it?"

"I don't think I have played so much since then."

"Nor I. You have improved a little, but you have not decidedly and thoroughly reformed. So I was obliged to take the next step which would be least unpleasant to you; that is, talking with you alone. Now you told me, when we began, that you would deal honestly and sincerely with me, if I would with you. I have been honest and open. I have told you all about it, so far as I am concerned. Now I wish you to be honest, and tell me what you are going to do. If you think, from this conversation, that you have done wrong, and if you are fully determined to do so no more, and to break off at once, and for ever from this practice, I should like to have you tell me, and then the whole thing will be settled. On the other hand, if you feel about it pretty much as you have done, I should like to have you tell me that too, honestly and frankly, that we may have a distinct understanding, and that I may be considering what to do next. I shall not be offended with you for giving me either of these answers, but be sure that you are honest; you promised to be so."

The boy looked up in his master's face, and said, with great earnestness,

"Mr. T., I will do better. I will not trouble you any more."

I have detailed this case, thus particularly, because it exhibits clearly what I mean, by going directly and frankly to the individual, and coming at once, to a full understanding. In nine cases out of ten, this course will be effectual. For four years, and with a very large school, I have found this sufficient, in every case of discipline which has occurred, except in three or four instances, where something more was required. To make it successful, however, it must be done properly. Several things are necessary. It must be deliberate; generally better after a little delay. It must be indulgent, so far as the view which the teacher takes of the guilt of the pupil, is concerned; every palliating consideration must be felt. It must be firm and decided, in regard to the necessity of a change, and the determination of the teacher to effect it. It must also be open and frank; no insinuations, no hints, no surmises, but plain, honest, open dealing.

In many cases, the communication may be made most delicately, and most successfully, in writing. The more delicately you touch the feelings of your pupils, the more tender these feelings will become. Many a teacher hardens and stupefies the moral sense of his pupils, by the harsh and rough exposures, to which he drags out the private feelings of the heart. A man may easily produce such a state of feeling in his school-room, that to address even the gentlest reproof to any individual, in the hearing of the next, would be a most severe punishment; and on the other hand, he may so destroy that sensitiveness, that his vociferated reproaches will be as unheeded as the idle wind.

If now, the teacher has taken the course recommended in this chapter; if he has, by his general influence in the school, done all in his power to bring the majority of his pupils to the side of order and discipline; if he has then studied, attentively and impartially, the characters of those who cannot thus be led; if he has endeavored to make them his friends, and to acquire, by every means, a personal influence over them; if, finally, when they do wrong, he goes, plainly, but in a gentle and delicate manner, to them, and lays before them the whole case; if he has done all this, he has gone as far as moral influence will carry him. My opinion is, that this course, faithfully and judiciously pursued, will in almost all instances succeed; but it will not in all; and where it fails, there must be other, and more vigorous and decided measures. What these measures of restraint or punishment shall be, must depend upon the circumstances of the case; but in resorting to them, the teacher must be decided and unbending.

The course above recommended, is not trying lax and inefficient measures, for a long time, in hopes of their being ultimately successful, and then, when they are found not to be so, changing the policy. There should be, through the whole, the tone and manner of authority, not of persuasion. The teacher must be a monarch, and while he is gentle and forbearing, always looking on the favorable side of conduct so far as guilt is concerned, he must have an eagle eye, and an efficient hand, so far as relates to arresting the evil, and stopping the consequences. He may slowly and cautiously, and even tenderly approach a delinquent. He may be several days in gathering around him the circumstances, of which he is ultimately to avail himself, in bringing him to submission; but, while he proceeds thus slowly, and tenderly, he must come with the air of authority and power. The fact that the teacher bases all his plans, on the idea of his ultimate authority, in every case, may be perfectly evident to all the pupils, while he proceeds with moderation and gentleness, in all his specific measures. Let it be seen, then, that the constitution of your school is a monarchy, absolute and unlimited,—but let it also be seen, that the one who holds the power, is himself under the control of moral principle, in all that he does, and that he endeavors to make the same moral principle which guides him, go as far as it is possible to make it go, in the government of his subjects.



CHAPTER V.

RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE.

In consequence of the unexampled religious liberty enjoyed in this country, for which it is happily distinguished above all other countries on the globe, there necessarily results a vast variety of religious sentiment and action. We cannot enjoy the blessings without the inconveniences of freedom. Where every man is allowed to believe as he pleases, some will undoubtedly believe wrong, and others will be divided, by embracing views of a subject which are different, though perhaps equally consistent with truth. Hence, we have among us, every shade and every variety of religious opinion, and in many cases, contention and strife, resulting from hopeless efforts to produce uniformity.

A stranger who should come among us, would suppose from the tone of our religious journals, and from the general aspect of society on the subject of religion, that the whole community was divided into a thousand contending sects, who hold nothing in common, and whose sole objects are, the annoyance and destruction of each other. But if we leave out of view some hundreds, or if you please, some thousands of theological controversialists, who manage the public discussions, and say and do all that really comes before the public on this subject, it will be found, that there is vastly more religious truth admitted by common consent, among the people of New England, than is generally supposed. This common ground, I shall endeavor briefly to describe. For it is very plain, that the teacher must, in ordinary cases, confine himself to it. By common consent, however, I do not mean the consent of every body; I mean that of the great majority of serious, thinking men.

But let us examine, first, for a moment, what right any member of the community has to express and to disseminate his opinions, with a view to the inquiry, whether the teacher is really bound to confine himself to what he can do, on this subject, with the common consent of his employers.

The French nation has been, for some time, as is well known, strongly agitated with questions of politics. It is with difficulty that public tranquillity is preserved. Every man takes sides. Now in this state of things, a wealthy gentleman, opposed to the revolutionary projects so constantly growing up there, and from principle and feeling, strongly attached to a monarchial government, wishes to bring up his children, with the same feelings which he himself cherishes. He has a right to do so. No matter if his opinions are wrong. He ought, it will be generally supposed in this country, to be republican. I suppose him to adopt opinions, which will generally, by my readers, be considered wrong, that I may bring more distinctly to view the right he has to educate his children as he thinks it proper that they should be educated. He may be wrong to form such opinions. But the opinions once formed, he has a right, with which no human power can justly interfere, to educate his children in conformity with those opinions. It is alike the law of God and nature, that the father should control, as he alone is responsible, the education of his child.

Now under these circumstances, he employs an American mechanic, who is residing in Paris, to come to his house and teach his children the use of the lathe. After some time, he comes into their little workshop, and is astonished to find the lathe standing still, and the boys gathered round the republican turner, who is telling them stories of the tyranny of kings, the happiness of republicans, and the glory of war. The parent remonstrates. The mechanic defends himself.

"I am a republican," he says, "upon principle, and wherever I go, I must exert all the influence in my power, to promote free principles, and to expose the usurpations and the tyranny of kings."

To this the Frenchman might very properly reply,

"In your efforts to promote your principles, you are limited, or you ought to be limited to modes that are proper and honorable. I employ you for a distinct and specific purpose, which has nothing to do with questions of government; and you ought not to allow your love of republican principles, to lead you to take advantage of the position in which I place you, and interfere with my plans for the political education of my children."

Now for the parallel case. A member of a Congregational Society, is employed to teach a school, in a district, occupied exclusively by Quakers,—a case not uncommon. He is employed there, not as a religious teacher, but for another specific and well-defined object. It is for the purpose of teaching the children of that district, reading, writing, and calculation, and for such other purposes, analogous to this, as the law, providing for the establishment of district schools, contemplated. Now when he is placed in such a situation, with such a trust confided to him, and such duties to discharge, it is not right for him, to make use of the influence, which this official station gives him, over the minds of the children committed to his care, for the accomplishment of any other purposes whatever, which the parents would disapprove. It would not be considered right, by men of the world, to attempt to accomplish any other purposes, in such a case; and are the pure and holy principles of piety, to be extended by methods more exceptionable, than those by which political and party contests are managed?

There is a very great and obvious distinction between the general influence which the teacher exerts as a member of the community, and that which he can employ in his school room as teacher. He has unquestionably a right to exert upon the community, by such means as he shares in common with every other citizen, as much influence as he can command, for the dissemination of his own political, or religious, or scientific opinions. But the strong ascendency, which, in consequence of his official station, he has obtained over the minds of his pupils, is sacred. He has no right to use it for any purpose foreign to the specific objects for which he is employed, unless by the consent, expressed or implied, of those by whom he is entrusted with his charge. The parents who send their children to him, to be taught to read, to write and to calculate, may have erroneous views of their duty, as parents, in other respects. He may know that their views are erroneous. They may be taking a course, which the teacher knows is wrong. But he has not, on this account, a right to step in between the parent and the child, to guide the latter according to his own opinions, and to violate the wishes and thwart the plans of the former.

God has constituted the relation between the parent and the child, and according to any view, which a rational man can take of this relation, the parent is alone responsible for the guidance he gives to that mind, so entirely in his power. He is responsible to God; and where our opinions, in regard to the manner in which any of the duties, arising from the relation, are to be performed, differ from his, we have no right to interfere, without his consent, to rectify what we thus imagine to be wrong. I know of but one exception, which any man whatever would be inclined to make, to this principle; and that is, where the parent would, if left to himself, take such a course, as would ultimately make his children unsafe members of society. The community have a right to interfere, in such a case, as they in fact do by requiring every man to provide for the instruction of his children, and in some other ways which need not now be specified. Beyond this, however, no interference contrary to the parent's consent, is justifiable. Where parents will do wrong, notwithstanding any persuasions which we can address to them, we must not violate the principles of an arrangement, which God has himself made, but submit patiently to the awful consequences, which will, in some cases, occur,—reflecting that the responsibility for these consequences, is on the head of those who neglect their duty, and that the being who makes them liable, will settle the account.

Whatever, then, the teacher attempts to do, beyond the specific and defined duties, which are included among the objects for which he is employed, must be done by permission,—by the voluntary consent, whether tacit, or openly expressed, of those by whom he is employed. This of course confines him to what is, generally, common ground, among his particular employers. In a republican country, where all his patrons are republican, he may without impropriety, explain and commend to his pupils, as occasion may occur, the principles of free governments, and the blessings which may be expected to flow from them. But it would not be justifiable for him to do this, under a monarchy, or in a community divided in regard to this subject, because this question does not come within the objects, for the promotion of which, his patrons have associated, and employed him,—and consequently, he has no right, while continuing their teacher, to go into it, without their consent. In the same manner, an Episcopal teacher, in a private school, formed and supported by Episcopalians, may use and commend forms of prayer, and explain the various usages of that church, exhibiting their excellence, and their adaptation to the purposes for which they are intended. He may properly do this, because in the case supposed, the patrons of the school are united on this subject, and their tacit consent may be supposed to be given. But place the same teacher over a school of Quaker children, whose parents dislike forms and ceremonies of every kind, in religion, and his duty would be changed altogether. So, if a Roman Catholic is entrusted with the instruction of a common district school, in a community composed of many Protestant denominations, it would be plainly his duty to avoid all influence, direct or indirect, over the minds of his pupils, except in those religious sentiments and opinions which are common to himself and all his employers. I repeat the principle. He is employed for a specific purpose, and he has no right to wander from that purpose, except as far as he can go, with the common consent of his employers.

Now, the common ground, on religious subjects, in this country, is very broad. There are indeed, many principles, which are, in my view, essential parts of Christianity, which are subjects of active discussion among us. But setting these aside, there are other principles equally essential, in regard to which the whole community are agreed; or at least, if there is a dissenting minority, it is so small, that it is hardly to be considered. Let us look at some of these principles.

1. Our community is agreed that there is a God. There is probably not a school in our country, where the parents of the scholars would not wish to have the teacher, in his conversation with his pupils, take this for granted, and allude reverently and judiciously to that great Being, with the design of leading them to realize his existence, and to feel his authority.

2. Our community are agreed, that we are responsible to God for all our conduct. Though some persons absurdly pretend to believe, that the Being who formed this world, if indeed they think there is any such Being, has left it and its inhabitants to themselves, not inspecting their conduct, and never intending to call them to account, they are too few among us to need consideration. A difference of opinion on this subject, might embarrass the teacher in France, and in other countries in Europe, but not here. However negligent men may be in obeying God's commands, they do almost universally in our country, admit in theory, the authority from which they come; and believing this, the parent, even if he is aware that he himself does not obey these commands, chooses to have his children taught to respect them. The teacher will thus be acting with the consent of his employers, in almost any part of our country, in endeavoring to influence his pupils to perform moral duties, not merely from worldly motives, nor from mere abstract principles of right and wrong, but from regard to the authority of God.

3. The community are agreed, too, in the belief of the immortality of the soul. They believe, almost without exception, that there is a future state of being, to which this is introductory and preparatory, and almost every father and mother in our country, wish to have their children keep this in mind, and to be influenced by it, in all their conduct.

4. The community are agreed, that we have a revelation from heaven. I believe there are very few instances where the parents would not be glad to have the Bible read from time to time, its geographical and historical meanings illustrated, and its moral lessons brought to bear upon the hearts and lives of their children. Of course, if the teacher is so unwise as to make such a privilege, if it were allowed him, the occasion of exerting an influence, upon one side or the other of some question which divides the community around him, he must expect to excite jealousy and distrust, and to be excluded from a privilege, which he might otherwise have been permitted freely to enjoy. There may, alas! be some cases, where the use of the Scriptures is altogether forbidden in school. But probably in almost every such case, it would be found, that it is from fear of its perversion to sect or party purposes, and not from any unwillingness to have the Bible used in the way I have described.

5. The community are agreed in theory, that personal attachment to the Supreme Being, is the duty of every human soul; and every parent, with exceptions so few that they are not worth naming, wishes that his children should cherish that affection, and yield their hearts to its influence. He is willing therefore that the teacher, of course without interfering with the regular duties for the performance of which he holds his office, should, from time to time, so speak of this duty,—of God's goodness to men,—of his daily protection,—and his promised favors, as to awaken, if possible, this attachment, in the hearts of his children. Of course, it is very easy for the teacher, if he is so disposed, to abuse this privilege also. He can, under pretence of awakening and cherishing the spirit of piety in the hearts of his pupils, present the subject in such aspects and relations, as to arouse the sectarian or denominational feelings of some of his employers. But I believe if this was honestly and fully avoided, there are few, if any, parents, in our country, who would not be gratified to have the great principle of love to God, manifest itself in the instructions of the school-room, and showing itself, by its genuine indications in the hearts and conduct of their children.

6. The community are agreed, not only in believing that piety consists primarily, in love to God, but that the life of piety is to be commenced by penitence for past sins, and forgiveness, in some way or other, through a Saviour. I am aware that one class of theological writers, in the heat of controversy, charge the other with believing that Jesus Christ was nothing more nor less than a teacher of religion, and there are unquestionably, individuals, who take this view. But these individuals are few. There are very few in our community, who do not in some sense, look upon Jesus Christ as our Saviour,—our Redeemer; who do not feel themselves in some way, indebted to him, for the offer of pardon. There may be, here and there, a theological student, or a contributor to the columns of a polemical magazine, who ranks Jesus Christ with Moses and with Paul. But the great mass of the fathers and mothers, of every name and denomination through all the ranks of society, look up to the Saviour of sinners, with something at least of the feeling, that he is the object of extraordinary affection and reverence. I am aware however, that I am approaching the limit, which, in many parts of our country, ought to bound the religious influence of the teacher in a public school; and on this subject, as on every other, he ought to do nothing directly or indirectly, which would be displeasing to those who have entrusted children to his care.

So much ground, it seems, the teacher may occupy, by common consent, in New-England, and it certainly is a great deal. It may be doubted whether, after all our disputes, there is a country in the world, whose inhabitants have so much in common, in regard to religious belief. There is, perhaps, no country in the world, where the teacher may be allowed to do so much, towards leading his pupils to fear God, and to obey his commands, with the cordial consent of parents, as he can here.[B]

[Footnote B: In speaking of this common ground, and in commenting upon it, I wish not to be understood that I consider these truths as comprising all that is essential in Christianity. Very far from it. A full expression of the Christian faith, would go far in advance of all here presented. We must not confound however, what is essential to prepare the way for the forgiveness of sin, with what is essential that a child should understand, in order to secure his penitence and forgiveness. The former is a great deal; the latter, very little.]

The ground which I have been laying out, is common, all over our country; in particular places, there will be, even much more, that is common. Of course, the teacher, in such cases, will be at much greater liberty. If a Roman Catholic community establish a school, and appoint a Roman Catholic teacher, he may properly, in his intercourse with his scholars, allude, with commendation, to the opinions and practices of that church. If a college is established by the Methodist denomination, the teacher of that institution may, of course, explain and enforce there, the views of that society. Each teacher is confined only to those views which are common to the founders and supporters of the particular institution, to which he is attached.

I trust the principle which I have been attempting to enforce, is fully before the reader's mind, namely, that moral and religious instruction in a school, being in a great degree extra-official, in its nature, must be carried no farther than the teacher can go with the common consent, either expressed or implied, of those who have founded, and who support his school. Of course, if those founders forbid it altogether, they have a right to do so, and the teacher must submit. The only question that can justly arise, is, whether, he will remain in such a situation, or seek employment, where a door of usefulness, here closed against him, will be opened. While he remains, he must honestly and fully submit to the wishes of those, in whose hands Providence has placed the ultimate responsibility of training up the children of his school. It is only for a partial and specific purpose, that they are placed under his care.

The religious reader may inquire, why I am so anxious to restrain, rather than to urge on, the exercise of religious influence in schools. "There is far too little," some one will say, "instead of too much, and teachers need to be encouraged and led on in this duty, not to be restrained from it." There is, indeed, far too little religious influence exerted in common schools. What I have said, has been intended to prepare the way for an increase of it. My view of it is this:

If teachers do universally confine themselves to limits, which I have been attempting to define, they may accomplish within these limits, a vast amount of good. By attempting however, to exceed them, the confidence of parents is destroyed or weakened, and the door is closed. In this way, injury to a very great extent has been done in many parts of our country. Parents are led to associate with the very idea of religion, indirect and perhaps secret efforts to influence their children, in a way which they themselves would disapprove. They transfer to the cause of piety itself, the dislike which was first awakened by exceptionable means to promote it; and other teachers, seeing these evil effects, are deterred from attempting what they might easily and pleasantly accomplish. Before therefore, attempting to enforce the duty, and to explain the methods of exerting religious influence in school, I thought proper, distinctly to state, with what restrictions, and within what limits, the work is to be done.

* * * * *

There are many teachers who profess to cherish the spirit, and to entertain the hopes of piety, who yet make no effort whatever to extend its influence to the hearts of their pupils. Others appeal sometimes to religious truth, merely to assist them in the government of the school. They perhaps bring it before the minds of disobedient pupils, in a vain effort to make an impression upon the conscience of one who has done wrong, and who cannot by other means be brought to submission. But the pupil, in such cases, understands, or at least he believes, that the teacher applies to religious truth, only to eke out his own authority, and of course, it produces no effect. Another teacher thinks he must, to discharge his duty, give a certain amount weekly, of what he considers religious instruction. He accordingly appropriates a regular portion of time to a formal lecture or exhortation, which he delivers without regard to the mental habits of thought and feeling which prevail among his charge. He forgets that the heart must be led, not driven, to piety, and that unless his efforts are adapted to the nature of the minds he is acting upon, and suited to influence them, he must as certainly fail of success, as when there is a want of adaptedness between the means and the end in any other undertaking whatever.

The arrangement which seems to me as well calculated as any for the religious exercises of a school, is this:

1. In the morning open the school with a very short prayer, resembling in its object and length, the opening prayer in the morning, at Congregational churches. The posture, which from four years' experience, I would recommend at this exercise, is sitting, with the heads reclined upon the desks. The prayer, besides being short, should be simple in its language, and specific in its petitions. A degree of particularity and familiarity, which might be improper elsewhere, is not only allowable here, but necessary to the production of the proper effect. That the reader may understand to what extent I mean to be understood to recommend this, I will subjoin a form, such as in spirit I suppose such a prayer ought to be.

"Our Father in heaven, who has kindly preserved the pupils and the teacher of this school during the past night, come and grant us a continuance of thy protection and blessing during this day. We cannot spend the day prosperously and happily without thee. Come then, and be in this school-room during this day, and help us all to be faithful and successful in duty.

"Guide the teacher in all that he may do. Give him wisdom and patience, and faithfulness. May he treat all his pupils with kindness; and if any of them should do any thing that is wrong, wilt thou help him, gently but firmly to endeavor to bring him back to duty. May he sympathize with the difficulties and trials of all, and promote the present happiness, as well as the intellectual progress, of all who are committed to his care.

"Take care of the pupils too. May they spend the day pleasantly and happily together. Wilt thou who didst originally give us all our powers, direct and assist us all, this day, in the use and improvement of them. Remove difficulties from our path, and give us all, fidelity and patience in every duty. Let no one of us destroy our peace and happiness this day, by breaking any of thy commands,—or encouraging our companions, in sins—or neglecting, in any respect, our duty. We ask all in the name of our great Redeemer Amen."

Of course the prayer of each day will be varied, unless, in special cases, the teacher prefers to read some form like the above. But let every one be minute and particular, relating especially to school,—to school temptations, and trials, and difficulties. Let every one be filled with expressions relating to school, so that it will bear upon every sentence, the impression, that it is the petition of a teacher and his pupils, at the throne of grace.

2. If the pupils can sing, there may be a single verse, or sometimes two verses of some well known hymn, sung after the prayer, at the opening of the school. Teachers will find it much easier to introduce this practice, than it would at first be supposed. In almost every school, there are enough who can sing to begin, especially if the first experiment is made in a recess, or before or after school; and the beginning once made, the difficulty is over. If but few tunes are sung, a very large proportion of the scholars will soon learn them.

3. Let there be no other regular exercise until the close of the afternoon school. When that hour has arrived, let the teacher devote a very short period, five minutes perhaps, to religious instruction, given in various ways. At one time, he may explain and illustrate some important truth. At another, read, and comment upon, a very short portion of Scripture. At another, relate an anecdote, or fact, which will tend to interest the scholars in the performance of duty. The teacher should be very careful not to imitate on these occasions, the formal style of exhortation from the pulpit. Let him use no cant and hackneyed phrases, and never approach the subject of personal piety,—i. e. such feelings as penitence for sin, trust in God, and love for the Saviour,—unless his own heart is really, at the time, warmed by the emotions which he wishes to awaken in others. Children very easily detect hypocrisy. They know very well, when a parent or teacher is talking to them on religious subjects, merely as a matter of course, for the sake of effect; and such constrained and formal efforts never do any good.

Let then every thing which you do, in reference to this subject, be done with proper regard to the character and condition of the youthful mind, and in such a way as shall be calculated to interest, as well as to instruct. A cold and formal exhortation, or even an apparently earnest one, delivered in a tone of affected solemnity, will produce no good effect. Perhaps I ought not to say it will produce no good effect: for good does sometimes result, as a sort of accidental consequence, from almost any thing. I mean it will have no effectual tendency to do good. You must vary your method too, in order to interest your pupils. Watch their countenances when you are addressing them, and see if they look interested. If they do not, be assured that there is something wrong, or at least something ill-judged, or inefficient, in your manner of explaining the truths which you wish to have produce an effect upon their minds.

That you may be prepared to bring moral and religious truths before their minds in the way I have described, your own mind must take a strong interest in this class of truths. You must habituate yourself to look at the moral and religious aspects and relations of all that you see and hear. When you are reading, notice such facts, and remember such narratives, as you can turn to good account, in this way. In the same way, treasure up in mind such occurrences as may come under your own personal observation, when travelling, or when mixing with society.

That the spirit and manner of these religious exercises, may be the more distinctly understood, I will give some examples.

Let us suppose then that the hour for closing school has come. The books are laid aside; the room is still; the boys expect the few words which the teacher is accustomed to address to them, and looking up to him, they listen to hear what he has to say.

"You may take your Bibles."

The boys, by a simultaneous movement, open their desks, and take from them their copies of the sacred volume.

"What is the first book of the New Testament?"

"Matthew:" they all answer, at once.

"The second?" "Mark." "The third?" "Luke."

"The next?" "John." "The next?" "The Acts."

"The next?"

Many answer, "Romans."

"The next?"

A few voices say, faintly and with hesitation, "First of Corinthians."

"I perceive your answers become fainter and fainter. Do you know what is the last book of the New Testament?"

The boys answer promptly, "Revelations."

"Do you know what books are between the Acts and the book of Revelation?"

Some say, "No sir;" some begin to enumerate such books as occur to them, and some perhaps begin to name them promptly, and in their regular order.

"I do not mean," interrupts the teacher, "the names of the books, but the kinds of books."

The boys hesitate.

"They are epistles or letters. Do you know who wrote the letters?"

"Paul," "Peter," answer many voices at once.

"Yes, there were several writers. Now the point which I wish to bring before you is this; do you know in what order, I mean on what principles, the books are arranged?"

"No sir;" is the universal reply.

"I will tell you. First come all Paul's epistles. If you turn over the leaves of the Testament, you will see that Paul's letters are all put together, after the book of the Acts; and what I wish you to notice is, that they are arranged in the order of their length. The longest comes first, and then the next; and so on to the shortest, which is the epistle to Philemon. This of course, comes last—No;—I am wrong in saying it is the last of Paul's Epistles, there is one more,—to the Hebrews; and this comes after all the others, for there has been a good deal of dispute whether it was really written by Paul. You will see that his name is not at the beginning of it, as it is in his other epistles: so it was put last."

"Then comes the epistle of James. Will you see whether it is longer than any that come after it?" The boys, after a minute's examination, answer, "Yes sir," "Yes sir."

"What comes next?"

"The epistles of Peter."

"Yes; and you will see that the longest of Peter's epistles is next in length to that of James': And indeed all his are arranged in the order of their length."

"Yes sir."

"What comes next?"

"John's."

"Yes, and they arranged in the order of their length. Do you now understand the principles of the arrangement of the epistles?"

"Yes sir."

"I should like to have any of you who are interested in it, try to express this principle in a few sentences, on paper, and lay it on my desk to-morrow, and I will read what you write. You will find it very difficult to express it. Now you may lay aside your books. It will be pleasanter for you if you do it silently."

Intelligent children will be interested even in so simple a point as this,—much more interested than a maturer mind, unacquainted with the peculiarities of children, would suppose. By bringing up, from time to time, some such literary inquiry as this, they will be led insensibly to regard the Bible as opening a field for interesting intellectual research, and will more easily be led to study it.

At another time, the teacher spends his five minutes in aiming to accomplish a very different object. I will suppose it to be one of those afternoons, when all has gone smoothly and pleasantly, in school. There has been nothing to excite strong interest or emotion; and there has been, (as every teacher knows there sometimes will be,) without any assignable cause which he can perceive, a calm, and quiet, and happy spirit, diffused over the minds and countenances of the little assembly. His evening communication should accord with this feeling, and he should make it the occasion to promote those pure and hallowed emotions in which every immortal mind must find its happiness, if it is to enjoy any, worth possessing.

When all is still, the teacher addresses his pupils as follows.

"I have nothing but a simple story to tell you to-night. It is true, and the fact interested me very much when I witnessed it, but I do not know that it will interest you now, merely to hear it repeated. It is this:

"Last vacation, I was travelling in a remote and thinly settled country, among the mountains, in another state; I was riding with a gentleman on an almost unfrequented road. Forests were all around us, and the houses were small and very few.

"At length, as we were passing a humble and solitary dwelling, the gentleman said to me, 'There is a young woman sick in this house; should you like to go in and see her?' 'Yes sir' said I, 'very much. She can have very few visiters I think, in this lonely place, and if you think she would like to see us, I should like to go.'

"We turned our horses towards the door, and as we were riding up, I asked what was the matter with the young woman.

"'Consumption,' the gentleman replied, 'and I suppose she will not live long.'

"At that moment we dismounted and entered the house. It was a very pleasant summer's afternoon, and the door was open. We entered and were received by an elderly lady, who seemed glad to see us. In one corner of the room was a bed, on which was lying the patient whom we had come to visit. She was pale and thin in her countenance, but there was a very calm and happy expression beaming in her eye. I went up to her bedside and asked her how she did.

"I talked with her some time, and found that she was a Christian. She did not seem to know whether she would get well again or not, and in fact, she did not seem to care much about it. She was evidently happy then, and believed she should continue so. She had been penitent for her sins, and sought and obtained forgiveness, and enjoyed, in her loneliness, not only the protection of God, but also his presence in her heart, diffusing peace and happiness there. When I came into the house, I said to myself, I pity, I am sure, a person who is confined by sickness in this lonely place, with nothing to interest or amuse her;' but when I came out, I said to myself, 'I do not pity her at all.'"

Never destroy the effect of such a communication as this, by attempting to follow it up with an exhortation, or with general remarks, vainly attempting to strengthen the impression.

Never, do I say? Perhaps there may be some exceptions. But children are not reached by formal exhortations; their hearts are touched and affected in other ways. Sometimes you must reprove, sometimes you must condemn. But indiscriminate and perpetual harangues about the guilt of impenitence, and earnest entreaties to begin a life of piety, only harden the hearts they are intended to soften, and consequently confirm those who hear them in the habits of sin.

In the same way a multitude of other subjects, infinite in number and variety, may be brought before your pupils at stated seasons for religious instruction. It is unnecessary to give any more particular examples, but still it may not be amiss to suggest a few general principles, which ought to guide those who are addressing the young, on every subject, and especially on the subject of religion.

1. Make no effort to simplify language. Children always observe this, and are always displeased with it, unless they are very young; and it is not necessary. They can understand ordinary language well enough, if the subject is within their comprehension, and treated in a manner adapted to their powers. If you doubt whether children can understand language, tell such a story as this, with ardor of tone and proper gesticulation, to a child only two or three years old;

"I saw an enormous dog in the street the other day. He was sauntering along slowly, until he saw a huge piece of meat lying down on the ground. He grasped it instantly between his teeth and ran away with all speed, until he disappeared around a corner so that I could see him no more."

In such a description, there is a large number of words which such a child would not understand if they stood alone, but the whole description would be perfectly intelligible. The reason is, the subject is simple; the facts are such as a very little child would be interested in; and the connexion of each new word, in almost every instance, explains its meaning. That is the way by which children learn all language. They learn the meaning of words, not by definitions, but by their connexion in the sentences in which they hear them; and by long practice, they acquire an astonishing facility of doing this. 'Tis true they sometimes mistake, but not often, and the teacher of children of almost any age, need not be afraid that he shall not be understood. There is no danger from his using the language of men, if his subject, and the manner in which he treats it, and the form and structure of his sentences are what they ought to be. Of course there may be cases, in, fact there often will be cases, where particular words will require special explanation, but they will be comparatively few, and instead of making efforts to avoid them, it will be better to let them come. The pupils will be interested and profited by the explanation.

Perhaps some may ask what harm it will do, to simplify language, when talking to children. "It certainly can do no injury," they may say, "and it diminishes all possibility of being misunderstood." It does injury in at least three ways.

(1.) It disgusts the young persons to whom it is addressed, and prevents their being interested in what is said. I once met two children twelve years of age, who had just returned from hearing a very able discourse, delivered before a number of sabbath schools, assembled on some public occasion. "How did you like the discourse?" said I.

"Very well indeed," they replied, "only," said one of them, smiling, "he talked to us as if we were all little children."

Girls and boys however young, never consider themselves little children, for they can always look down upon some younger than themselves. They are mortified, when treated as though they could not understand what is really within the reach of their faculties. They do not like to have their powers underrated; and they are right in this feeling. It is common to all, old and young.

(2) Children are kept back in learning language, if their teacher makes effort to come down, as it is called, to their comprehension in the use of words. Notice that I say, in the use of words, for as I shall show presently, it is absolutely necessary to come down to the comprehension of children, in some other respects. If however, in the use of words, those who address children, confine themselves to such words as children already understand, how are they to make progress in that most important of all studies, the knowledge of language. Many a mother keeps back her child, in this way, to a degree that is hardly conceivable; thus doing all in her power to perpetuate in the child an ignorance of its mother tongue.

Teachers ought to make constant efforts to increase their scholars' stock of words, by using new ones from time to time, taking care to explain them when the connexion does not do it for them. So that instead of coming down to the language of childhood, he ought rather to go as far away from it, as he possibly can, without leaving his pupils behind him.

(3) But perhaps the greatest evil of this practice is, it satisfies the teacher. He thinks he addresses his pupils in the right manner, and overlooks, altogether, the real peculiarities, in which the power to interest the young depends. He talks to them in simple language, and wonders why they are not interested. He certainly is plain enough. He is vexed with them for not attending to what he says, attributing it to their dulness or regardlessness of all that is useful or good, instead of perceiving that the great difficulty is his own want of skill. These three evils are sufficient to deter the teacher from the practice.

2. Present your subject not in its general views, but in its minute details. This is the great secret of interesting the young. Present it in its details, and in its practical exemplifications; do this with any subject whatever, and children will always be interested.

To illustrate this, let us suppose two teachers, wishing to explain to their pupils the same subject, and taking the following opposite methods of doing it. One, at the close of school, addresses his charge as follows;

"The moral character of any action, that is, whether it is right or wrong, depends upon the motives with which it is performed. Men look only at the outward conduct, but God looks at the heart. In order now that any action should be pleasing to God, it is necessary it should be performed from the motive of a desire to please him.

"Now there are a great many other motives of action which prevail among mankind, besides this right one. There is love of praise, love of money, affection for friends, &c."

By the time the teacher has proceeded thus far, he finds, as he looks around the room, that the countenances of his pupils are assuming a listless and inattentive air. One is restless in his seat, evidently paying no attention. Another has reclined his head upon his desk, lost in a reverie, and others are looking round the room, at one another, or at the door, restless and impatient, hoping the dull lecture will soon be over.

The other teacher says;

"I have thought of an experiment I might try, which would illustrate to you a very important subject. Suppose I should call one of the boys, A., to me, and should say to him; 'I want you to go to your seat and transcribe for me a piece of poetry, as handsomely as you can. If it is written as well as you can possibly write it, I will give you 25 cents.' Suppose I say this to him privately, so that none of the rest of the boys can hear, and he goes to take his seat, and begins to work. You perceive that I have presented to him a motive to exertion."

"Yes sir," say the boys, all looking with interest at the teacher, wondering how this experiment is going to end.

"Well, what would that motive be?"

"Money." "The quarter of a dollar." "Love of money," or perhaps other answers are heard, from the various parts of the room.

"Yes, love of money, it is called. Now suppose I should call another boy, one with whom I was particularly acquainted, and, who, I should know would make an effort to please me, and should say to him, 'For a particular reason, I want you to copy this poetry'—giving him the same—'I wish you to copy it handsomely, for I wish to send it away, and have not time to copy it myself. Can you do it as well as not?'

"Suppose the boy should say he could, and should take it to his seat, and begin; neither of the boys knowing what the other was doing. I should now have offered to this second boy a motive. Would it be the same with the other?"

"No sir."

"What was the other?"

"Love of money."

"What is this?"

The boys hesitate.

"It might be called," continues the teacher, "friendship. It is the motive of a vast number of the actions which are performed in this world.

"Do you think of any other common motive of action, besides love of money and friendship?"

"Love of honor," says one "fear," says another.

"Yes," continues the teacher, "both these are common motives. I might, to exhibit them, call two more boys, one after the other, and say to the one, I will thank you to go and copy this piece of poetry as well as you can. I want to send it to the school committee as a specimen of improvement made in this school.

"To the other, I might say; 'you have been a careless boy to-day; you have not got your lessons well. Now take your seat, and copy this poetry. Do it carefully. Unless you take pains, and do it as well as you possibly can, I shall punish you severely, before you go home.'

"How many motives have I got now? Four, I believe."

"Yes sir," say the boys.

"Love of money, friendship, love of honor, and fear. We called the first boy A.; let us call the others, B. C and D.; no, we shall remember better to call them by the name of their motives. We will call the first, M. for money; the second, F. for friendship; the third, H. for honor; and the last F.;—we have got an F. already; what shall we do? On the whole, it is of no consequence, we will have two F.'s, we shall remember not to confound them.

"But there are a great many other motives entirely distinct from these. For example, suppose I should say to a fifth boy, 'Will you copy this piece of poetry? it belongs to one of the little boys in school: he wants a copy of it, and I told him I would try to get some one to copy it for him.' This motive now would be benevolence; that is, if the boy, who was asked to copy it, was not particularly acquainted with the other, and did it chiefly to oblige him. We will call this boy B. for Benevolence.

"Now suppose I call a sixth boy, and say to him, I have set four or five boys to work, copying this piece of poetry; now I want you to set down and see if you cannot do it better than any of them. No one of them knows that any other is writing, except you, but after the others are all done, I will compare them and see if yours is not the best.' This would be trying to excite emulation. We must call this boy then, E.—But the time I intended to devote to talking with you on this subject for to-day, is expired. Perhaps, to-morrow, I will take up the subject again."

The reader now will observe that the grand peculiarity of the instructions given by this last teacher, as distinguished from those of the first, consists in this; that the parts of the subject are presented in detail, and in particular exemplification. In the first case, the whole subject was despatched in a single, general, and comprehensive description; in the latter, it is examined minutely, one point being brought forward at a time. The discussions are enlivened too, by meeting and removing such little difficulties, as will naturally come up, in such an investigation. Boys and girls will take an interest in such a lecture; they will regret to have it come to a conclusion, and will give their attention when the subject is again brought forward, on the following day. Let us suppose the time for continuing the exercise to have arrived. The teacher resumes the discussion thus.

"I was talking to you yesterday about the motives of action; how many had I made?"

Some say, "Four," some "Five," some "Six."

"Can you name any of them?"

The boys attempt to recollect them, and they give the names in the order in which they accidentally occur to the various individuals. Of course, the words Fear, Emulation, Honor, Friendship, and others, come in confused and irregular sounds, from every part of the school-room.

"You do not recollect the order," says the teacher, "and it is of no consequence, for the order I named was only accidental. Now to go on with my account; suppose all these boys to sit down, and go to writing, each one acting under the impulse of the motive which had been presented to him individually. But in order to make the supposition answer my purpose, I must add two other cases. I will imagine that one of these boys is called away, a few minutes, and leaves his paper on his desk, and that another boy, of an ill-natured and morose disposition, happening to pass by and see his paper, thinks he will sit down and write upon it a few lines, just to plague and vex the one who was called away. We will also suppose that I call another boy to me, who, I have reason to believe, is a sincere Christian, and say to him, 'Here is a new duty for you to perform this afternoon. This piece of poetry is to be copied; now do it carefully and faithfully. You know that this morning you committed yourself to God's care during the day; now remember he has been watching you all the time, thus far, and he will be noticing you all the time you are doing this; he will be pleased if you do your duty faithfully.'

"The boys thus all go to writing. Now suppose a stranger should come in, and seeing them all busy, should say to me,

"'What are all these boys doing?'

"'They are writing.'

"'What are they writing?'

"'They are writing a piece of poetry.'

"'They seem to be very busy; they are very industrious, good boys.'

"'Oh no! it is not by any means certain that they are good boys.'

"'I mean that they are good boys now; that they are doing right at this time.'

"'That is not certain; some of them are doing right and some are doing very wrong; though they are all writing the same piece of poetry.'

"The stranger would perhaps look surprised while I said this, and would ask an explanation, and I might properly reply as follows.

"'Whether the boys are, at this moment, doing right, or wrong, depends not so much upon what they are doing, as upon the feelings of the heart with which they are doing it. I acknowledge that they are all doing the same thing outwardly,—they are all writing the same extract, and they are all doing it attentively and carefully, but they are thinking of very different things.'

"'What are they thinking of?'

"Do you see that boy?' I might say, pointing to one of them. His name is M.' He is writing for money. He is saying to himself all the time, 'I hope I shall get the quarter of a dollar.' He is calculating what he shall buy with it, and every good or bad letter that he makes, he is considering the chance whether he shall succeed or fail in obtaining it.'

"'What is the next boy to him thinking of?'

"'His name is B. He is copying to oblige a little fellow, whom he scarcely knows, and is trying to make his copy handsome so as to give him pleasure. He is thinking how gratified his schoolmate will be when he receives it, and is forming plans to get acquainted with him.'

"Do you see that boy in the back seat. He has maliciously taken another boy's place just to spoil his work. He knows too that he is breaking the rules of the school, in being out of his place, but he stays, notwithstanding, and is delighting himself with thinking how disappointed and sad his schoolmate will be, when he comes in and finds his work spoiled, because he was depending on doing it all himself.'

"'I see,' the stranger might say by this time, 'that there is a great difference among these boys; have you told me about them all?'

"'No,' I might reply, 'there are several others. I will only mention one more. He sits in the middle of the second desk. He is writing carefully, simply because he wishes to do his duty and please God. He thinks that God is present, and loves him, and takes care of him, and he is obedient and grateful in return. I do not mean that he is all the time thinking of God, but love to him is his motive of effort.'

"Do you see now, boys, what I mean to teach you by this long supposition?"

"Yes sir."

"I presume you do. Perhaps it would be difficult for you to express it in words, I can express it in general terms, thus,

"Our characters depend not on what we do, but on the spirit and motive with which we do it. What I have been saying throws light upon one important verse in the Bible, which I should like to have read. James have you a Bible in your desk?"

"Yes sir."

"Will you turn to 1 Samuel xvi: 7. and then rise and read it. Read it loud, so that all the school can hear."

James reads as follows.

"MAN LOOKETH ON THE OUTWARD APPEARANCE, BUT GOD LOOKETH ON THE HEART."

This is the way to reach the intellect and the heart of the young. Go into detail. Explain truth and duty, not in an abstract form, but exhibit it, in actual and living examples.

(3.) Be very cautious how you bring in the awful sanctions of religion, to assist you directly, in the discipline of your school. You will derive a most powerful indirect assistance, from the influence of religion in the little community which you govern. But this will be, through the prevalence of its spirit in the hearts of your pupils, and not from any assistance which you can usually derive from it in managing particular cases of transgression. Many teachers make great mistakes in this respect. A bad boy, who has done something openly and directly subversive of the good order of the school, or the rights of his companions, is called before the master, who thinks that the most powerful weapon to wield against him is the Bible. So while the trembling culprit stands before him, he administers to him a reproof, which consists of an almost ludicrous mixture of scolding, entreaty, religious instruction, and threatening of punishment. But such an occasion as this is no time to touch a bad boy's heart. He is steeled, at such a moment, against any thing but mortification, and the desire to get out of the hands of the master; and he has an impression, that the teacher appeals to religious principles, only to assist him to sustain his own authority. Of course, religious truth, at such a time, can make no good impression. There may be exceptions to this rule. There doubtless are. I have found some; and every successful teacher who reads this, will probably call some to mind, some which have occurred in the course of his own experience. I am only speaking of what ought to be the general rule, which is, to reserve religious truths for moments of a different character altogether. Bring the principles of the Bible forward when the mind is calm, when the emotions are quieted, and all within is at rest; and in exhibiting them, be actuated not by a desire to make your duties of government easier, but to promote the real and permanent happiness of your charge.

(4.) Do not be eager to draw from your pupils, an expression of their personal interest in religious truth. Lay before them, and enforce, by all the means in your power, the principles of christian duty, but do not converse with them for the purpose of gratifying your curiosity in regard to their piety, or your spiritual pride by counting up the numbers of those who have been led to piety by your influence. Beginning to act from christian principles is the beginning of a new life, and it may be an interesting subject of inquiry to you, to ascertain how many of your pupils have experienced the change. But, in many cases, it would merely gratify curiosity to know. There is no question too, that in very many instances, the faint glimmering of religious interest, which would have kindled into a bright flame, is extinguished at once and perhaps for ever, by the rough inquiries of a religious friend. Besides if you make inquiries, and form a definite opinion of your pupils, they will know that this is your practice, and many a one will repose in the belief that you consider him or her a Christian, and you will thus increase the number, already unfortunately too large, of those, who maintain the form and pretences of piety, without its power; whose hearts are filled with self-sufficiency and spiritual pride, and perhaps zeal for the truths and external duties of religion, while the real spirit of piety has no place there. They trust to some imaginary change, long since passed by, and which has proved to be spurious by its failing of its fruits. The best way, in fact the only way, to guard against this danger, especially with the young, is to show, by your manner of speaking and acting on this subject, at all times, that you regard a truly religious life, as the only evidence of piety;—and that consequently, however much interest your pupils may apparently take in religious instruction, they cannot know, and you cannot know, whether Christian principle reigns within them, in any other way than by following them through life and observing how, and with what spirit, the various duties of it are performed.

There are very many fallacious indications of piety; so fallacious and so plausible, that there are very few, even among intelligent Christians, who are not often greatly deceived. "By their fruits ye shall know them," said the Saviour, a direction sufficiently plain, one would think, and pointing to a test, sufficiently easy to be applied. But it is slow and tedious work to wait for fruits; and we accordingly seek a criterion, which will help us quicker to a result. You see your pupil serious and thoughtful. It is well: but it is not proof of piety. You see him deeply interested when you speak of his obligations to his Maker, and the duties he owes to him. This is well; but it is no proof of piety. You know he reads his Bible daily and offers his morning and evening prayers. When you speak to him of God's goodness, and of his past ingratitude, his bosom heaves with emotion, and the tear stands in his eye. It is all well. You may hope that he is going to devote his life to the service of God. But you cannot know; you cannot even believe, with any great confidence. These appearances are not piety. They are not conclusive evidences of it. They are only, in the young, faint grounds of hope, that the genuine fruits of piety will appear.

I am aware that there are many persons, so habituated to judging with confidence of the piety of others, from some such indications as I have described, that they will think I carry my cautions to the extreme. Perhaps I do; but the Saviour said, "By their fruits ye shall know them," and it is safest to follow his direction.

By the word fruits, however, our Saviour unquestionably does not mean, the mere moral virtues of this life. The fruits to be looked at, are the fruits of piety, that is, indications of permanent attachment to the Creator, and a desire to obey his commands. We must look for these.

There is no objection to your giving particular individuals special instruction, adapted to their wants and circumstances. You may do this, by writing, or in other ways, but do not lead them to make up their minds fully that they are Christians, in such a sense as to induce them to feel that the work is done. Let them understand that becoming a Christian is beginning a work, not finishing it. Be cautious how you form an opinion even yourself on the question of the genuineness of their piety. Be content not to know. You will be more faithful and watchful if you consider it uncertain, and they will be more faithful and watchful too.

(5.) Bring, very fully and frequently, before your pupils the practical duties of religion in all their details, especially their duties at home; to their parents and to their brothers and sisters. Do not, however, allow them to mistake morality for religion. Show them clearly what piety is, in its essence, and this you can do most successfully by exhibiting its effects.

(6.) Finally let me insert as the keystone of all that I have been saying in this chapter, be sincere, and ardent, and consistent, in your own piety. The whole structure which I have been attempting to build, will tumble into ruins without this. Be constantly watchful and careful, not only to maintain intimate communion with God, and to renew it daily in your seasons of retirement, but guard your conduct. Let piety control and regulate it. Show your pupils that it makes you amiable, patient, forbearing, benevolent in little things, as well as in great things, and your example will co-operate with your instructions, and allure your pupils to walk in the paths which you tread. But no clearness and faithfulness in religious teaching will atone for the injury which a bad example will effect. Conduct speaks louder than words, and no persons are more shrewd than the young, to discover the hollowness of empty professions, and the heartlessness of mere pretended interest in their good.