the pens himself.
Let him choose from among the older and more intelligent of his scholars, four or five, whom he will teach. They will be very glad to learn, and to mend every day twenty-five or fifty pens each. Very little ingenuity will be necessary to devise some plan, by which the scholars may be apportioned among these, so that each shall supply a given number, and the teacher be relieved entirely.
3. Answering questions about studies. A teacher who does not adopt some system in regard to this subject, will be always at the mercy of his scholars. One boy will want to know how to parse a word, another where the lesson is, another to have a sum explained, and a fourth will wish to show his work, to see if it is right. The teacher does not like to discourage such inquiries. Each one, as it comes up, seems necessary: each one too is answered in a moment; but the endless number, and the continual repetition of them consume his time and exhaust his patience.
There is another view of the subject, which ought to be taken. Perhaps it would not be far from the truth, to estimate the average number of scholars in the schools in our country, at fifty. At any rate, this will be near enough for our present purpose. There are three hours in each session, making one hundred and eighty minutes, which, divided among fifty, give about three minutes and a half to each individual. If the reader has, in his own school, a greater or a less number, he can easily correct the above, so as to adapt it to his own case, and ascertain the portion, which may justly be appropriated to each pupil. It will probably vary from two to four minutes. Now a period of four minutes slips away very fast while a man is looking over perplexing problems, and if he exceeds that time at all, he is doing injustice to his other pupils. I do not mean that a man is to confine himself, rigidly, to the principle suggested by this calculation, of cautiously appropriating no more time to any one of his pupils, than such a calculation would assign to each; but simply that this is a point which should be kept in view, and have a very strong influence in deciding how far it is right to devote attention, exclusively, to individuals. It seems to me that it shows very clearly, that one ought to teach his pupils, as much as possible, in masses, and as little as possible, by private attention to individual cases.
The following directions will help the teacher to carry these principles into effect. When you assign a lesson, glance over it yourself, and consider what difficulties are likely to arise. You know the progress which your pupils have made, and can easily anticipate their difficulties. Tell them all together, in the class, what their difficulties will be, and how they may surmount them. Give them directions how they are to act in the emergencies, which will be likely to occur. This simple step will remove a vast number of the questions, which would otherwise become occasions for interrupting you. With regard to other difficulties, which cannot be foreseen and guarded against, tell them to bring them to the class, the next recitation. Half a dozen might, and very probably would meet with the same difficulty. If they bring it to you one by one, you have to answer it over and over again, whereas, when it is brought to the class, one explanation answers for all.
As to all questions about the lesson,—where it is, and what it is, and how long it is,—never answer them. Require each pupil to remember for himself, and if he was absent when the lesson was assigned, let him ask his class mate in a recess.
You may refuse to give particular individuals the private assistance they ask for, in such a way as to discourage and irritate them, but it is not necessary. It can be done in such a manner, that the pupil will see the propriety of it, and acquiesce pleasantly in it.
A child comes to you, for example, and says,
"Will you tell me, sir, where the next lesson is?"
"Were you not in the class at the time?"
"Yes sir, but I have forgotten."
"Well, I have forgotten too. I have a great many classes to hear, and of course a great many lessons to assign, and I never remember them; it is not necessary far me to remember."
"May I speak to one of the class, to ask about it?"
"You cannot speak, you know, till the Study Card is down; you may, then."
"But I want to get my lesson now."
"I don't know what you will do, then: I am sorry you don't remember."
"Besides," continues the teacher, looking pleasantly, however, while he says it, "if I knew, I think I ought not to tell you."
"Why, sir?"
"Because, you know, I have said I wish the scholars to remember where the lessons are, and not come to me. You know it would be very unwise for me, after assigning a lesson in the class, to spend my time in telling the individuals over again here. Now if I should tell you, I should have to tell others, and thus adopt a practice, which I have condemned."
Take another case. You assign to a class of little girls a subject of composition, requesting them to copy their writing upon a sheet of paper, leaving a margin an inch wide at the top, and one of half an inch at the sides and bottom. The class take their seats, and, after a short time, one of them comes to you, saying she does not know how long an inch is.
"Don't you know any thing about it?"
"No sir, not much."
"Should you think that is more or less than an inch?" (pointing to a space on a piece of paper much too large.)
"More."
"Then you know something about it. Now I did not tell you to make the margins exactly an inch, and half an inch, but only as near as you could tell."
"Would that be about right?" asks the girl, showing a distance.
"I must not tell you, because you know I never in such cases help individuals; if that is as near as you can get it, you may make it so."
It may be well, after assigning a lesson to a class, to say that all those who do not distinctly understand what they have to do, may remain after the class have taken their seats, and ask: the task may then be distinctly assigned again, and the difficulties, so far as they can be foreseen, explained.
By such means, these sources of interruption and difficulty may, like the others, be almost entirely removed. Perhaps not altogether, for many cases may occur, where the teacher may choose to give a particular class permission to come to him for help. Such permission, however, ought never to be given, unless it is absolutely necessary, and should never be allowed to be taken, unless it is distinctly given.
4. Hearing recitations. I am aware that many attempt to do something else, at the same time that they are hearing a recitation, and there may perhaps be some individuals, who can succeed in this. If the exercise, to which the teacher is attending, consists merely in listening to the reciting, from memory, some passage committed, it can perhaps be done. I hope however to show, in a future chapter, that there are other and far higher objects, which every teacher ought to have in view, and he who understands these objects, and aims at accomplishing them,—who endeavors to instruct his class, to enlarge and elevate their ideas, to awaken a deep and paramount interest in the subject which they are examining, will find that his time must be his own, and his attention uninterrupted, while he is presiding at a class. All the other exercises and arrangements of the school are, in fact, preparatory and subsidiary to this. Here, that is, in the classes, the real business of teaching is to be done. Here, the teacher comes in contact with his scholars, mind with mind, and here, consequently, he must be uninterrupted and undisturbed. I shall speak more particularly on this subject hereafter, under the head of instruction; all I wish to secure in this place, is that the teacher should make such arrangements, that he can devote his exclusive attention to his classes, while he is actually engaged with them.
Each
