... The teacher's manual: being an exposition of an efficient and economical system of education suited to the wants of a free people

Front matter

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I UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. |

BEING

Preface

be discontinued, as totally unnecessary, as soon as good models should be spread over the land.

Fourthly, by providing libraries of school-books as well as of books for circulation, and by establishing a system of exchanges among the districts.

III. To examine, thoroughly, the whole system of education, going into the most minute details, wherever it is found defective or injurious, and passing, more rapidly, over such parts as require little or no amendment.

IV. To make a commencement on the hitherto-neglected subject of Morals, for primary schools, and to place Discipline on its proper foundation, the Conscience.

Many other topics are treated of, incidentally, such as the division of towns into Districts, the laying out of School lots, erecting, lighting, warming, &c., of Schoolhouses, town and county Conventions of Teachers, &c. ; the whole being designed to present a complete and liberal System of Education, suited to the wants of a Free People, in whose hands the whole system of government may be safely entrusted.

For many years, I have been in the habit of entering, in a commonplace book, my own thoughts, as well as extracts from the publications of the day, on the subject of Education. As this was commenced, long before I had any intention of writing on the subject, I have seldom used any discriminative marks, between my own ideas and those of others. It is not improbable, therefore, that, in this Essay, in which, of course, I made free use of my commonplace book, I may sometimes unconsciously have used the words or ideas of others, without giving them proper credit. Should this prove to be the case, in a few instances, I trust the writers and the public will accept of this apology.

Chapter I. Introd Uc Tory

•' I call, therefore, a complete and generous education, that which fits a man to perform, justly, skilfully, and magnanimously, all the offices, both private and public, of peace and war." — Milton.

In the following pages, it is proposed to inquire, what are the requisites for a good education for the whole people, and what are the best means of attaining them ; in other words, to present the picture of a good district and town school ; or, as they are sometimes called, a primary and high school. It is also proposed to inquire into the best means of equalizing the benefits of education ; or, more properly speaking, of bringing the means of a thorough education within the reach of every child in the community. As having an important bearing on these subjects, the local situation and internal arrangement of schoolhouses will also be taken into consideration. The J^ormal School, or Seminary for Teachers, will also claim its due share of attention.

All this, however, will not be sufficient for the attainment of the great object, which at present occupies so much of the attention of many modern philanthropists, — the physical, intellectual, and moral, improvement of the community, through the medium of schools. The great body of society, particularly in New England, are perfectly satisfied with their present system. It is generally supposed, that the people owe all that shrewdness and intelligence for which they are so remarkable, and all their industrious and moral habits, to the District School. Hence, it is a very natural inference, that the system cannot be so faulty and imperfect, as is frequently represented ; and that, in fact, it would be rather a hazardous experiment, in any way to meddle with it. Before, therefore, we can expect to succeed in producing any beneficial changes, especially where these changes are of a radical nature, it is necessary, clearly and explicitly to show the fallacy of these views. One of the most important objects of this treatise, then, will be, an exposition of the deficiencies and defects of the system now in use, and a demonstration of the fallacy, which would refer all, or even most, of our moral and intellectual worth to School Education.

Let it, however, be distinctly understood, that all the deficiencies, defects, and evils, which will be pointed out, do not exist in every public school. Our system of instruction is at present in a state of transition. Ten years ago, the primary schools were conducted in a uniform routine. In discipline, books, arrangement of studies, and mode of tuition, all were aHke. But, so far is this from being the case now, that it would probably be difficult to find two schools conducted on exactly similar principles, on any one of these points. Hence, no description can possibly suit every case. The only practicable method of tracing out and eradicating all the defects of our present system of education, then, is to present a complete and correct picture of the schools in their worst state ^ and to call upon each teacher or parent to apply such features only, as are strictly applicable to his mode of tuition.

For instance, if there be any school in which reading is taught intellectually rather than mechanically ; where the child has learnt to read in an easy, unaffected manner ; his tones all natural, and his delivery exactly as if he were talking on the same subject with his brothers and sisters ; if, from first to last, he has understood every word he has uttered, before his lesson was finished ; if he has never read any thing, without being able to close his book, and give a clear, intelligible statement of it ; then, the remarks on readings in this treatise, have no reference whatever to that school. But, let them not, therefore, be condemned, as inapphcable. There are schools, where the pupils are not so favored ; where they have been taught to read in a stiff, unnatural manner, without any attention to the sense ; to utter, like parrots, mere sounds, without bestowing a thought on the ideas they are intended to convey. It is only to such schools, that all the remarks on reading are meant to apply.

Between these two kinds of schools, there are various grades. And it is to be hoped, that no teacher, because every remark on any one subject is not appHcable to him, will, therefore, reject the whole. As was remarked in speaking of the more perfect school, if the whole be not applicable, let that only be used, which will suit the case. Nothing more was meant to be apphed to that school.

Similar remarks apply to all the branches treated of, whether they relate to physical, intellectual, or moral culture. In the case of morals, for instance, if the pupils have been trained to feel , distinctly, the happiness of virtue, the misery of vice ; the delights arising from general sympathy and the social affections, and the sordid nature of selfishness ; to see, clearly, the beauty of placability, forbearance, kindness, and good temper ; the hatefulness of moroseness, malevolence, and cruelty ; the advantages of industry, perseverance, economy, and temperance ; the disadvantages of indolence, instability, extravagance, and intemperance ; the complacency arising from love to God, obedience to his commands, and resignation to his will ; it is probable, that the teacher of such a school may not derive much personal advantage from the remarks on the deficiencies of the moral department of the schools. Such a teacher, however, loill not think them unnecessary. He will know, that, however happy may be the exceptions, the field of morality generally lies almost wholly untilled ; full of little else than poisonous plants and foul weeds ; and he will prize them, even though they may not apply to his own highly-favored school.

CHAPTER 11.

WHO ARE OUR SCHOOLMASTERS ?

It is very important, especially at the present moment, that we should have a clear, distinct idea of the real value of our primary schools. Let us, then, carefully and candidly inquire, what knowledge they do impart to the mass of the people, to those who have no further advantages of school education, leaving, of course, entirely out of view those gifted minds which are scattered sparsely over every country, who, rise, in spite of every impediment, and to whom, in fact, mankind are chiefly indebted, for their steady progress from barbarism to civilization.

1st. They teach Reading. This art may be considered in two points of view : 1 . Reading for others, or reading aloud. Many years are commonly spent in the attempt to gain this accomplishment ; and very few make any progress, worthy of the name. For where shall we find a reader, who can keep up an interest in an audience for half an hour ? It would appear, then, that the time, labor, and money, expended in learning to read alo'ud. is little better than thrown away. 2. Reading for ourselves, or silent reading. Have the pupils of the district school acquired this, to any good purpose ? Has it opened to them the door of science ? Do they make any practical use of it .'' Are we a reading people ? Alas ! I fear these questions must be answered in the negative. The boundless stores of knowledge, instead of being at the command of every member of the community, remain as completely a sealed book, as if still shut up in the learned languages. Some, it is true, do contrive to spell out a little in the newspaper, and others regularly read their Bible. But is it to any good purpose ? Is their reading more than a form ? Have we not reason to fear, that an accurate examination would show, that it is little else than a muttering or enunciation of mere sounds, and that, under the heavy labor of bringing them forth, the sense generally escapes ?

2d. They teach Orthography. Spelling has nothing to do with our present purpose, which relates only to the heart and intellect. It will be fully noticed, in another chapter.

3d. They teach t^n^/imeiic. The/orm of this science is taught in our schools, but its true principles, buried under a multiplicity of mechanical rules, escape the search of the scholar. He generally forgets the rules a short time after leaving school, though a sufficient knowledge is generally retained for the common business-transactions of the farmer and mechanic. Should more than this be necessary, it must be learned elsewhere. What wonderful returns for the labor of years ! more might be acquired in three months, under an intelligent instructor who should pursue a rational course. The great advantage, also, which might be derived from the study of this science, the acquisition of habits of reasoning and patient investigation, is entirely lost.

4th. They teach Geography. But for what purpose ? A knowledge of geography is of exceedingly little use to any but readers, to whom, indeed, it is indispensable. Those who do not read will forget almost the whole in a very short time.

5th. They teach English Grammar , which claims the high merit of enabling its students to speak and write the English language with purity and propriety. But do those who have studied it speak whh propriety ? Is their language, in any respect, different from that of those around them, who have never opened a book on grammar ? As to writing, the critical eye of a grammarian may, it is true, detect an error of syntax ; but other sources must be resorted to, for the art of composition.^ For this, the structure of sentences, not the mere relations of words, must be understood, and the mind must be stored with ideas. Neither of these can be derived from grammar. Such are the studies that occupy the chief part of the time in the primary schools, with, sometimes, in addition, a little writing, and a smattering of natural history. And can it be possible, that the intelligence and sterling worth, for which the community are distinguished, are derived 2 from such scanty sources as these ? The idea is preposterous. Whence, then, are they derived ? An attentive observation of the progress of a child, from birth to maturity, will, it is beheved, solve the problem. Let us make the attempt.

Man's true nature is spiritual. He is " a living soul^^^

clothed, FOR THE PURPOSES OF EDUCATION, With a

fleshly garment.

At birth, he possesses, along with the seeds of every virtue, and its opposite vice, a capacity for the most unbounded knowledge : but all these, as yet, lie dormant, undeveloped. There is one exception, however, which is, as it were, the germ, or rather the foundation, of all his future acquisitions. By instinct, which is nothing less than God working within him,* he has the power of moving certain muscles. He can cry, suck, swallow, open his eyes. Hunger, which has been denominated the sixth sense, is the main cause of all these motions.

By imperceptible degrees, his muscular powers are extended. In some three or four months, by the exercise of his hands, he acquires faint notions of form and distance : in other words, he has learned to see ; and now begins to recognise the affectionate being, whose unremitting tenderness watches over his safety, and hourly nourishes him from her own bosom. Delighted with his acquisitions, his thirst for knowledge is continually on the increase. Every object, within his reach, is eagerly seized and examined. His eyes, his ears, his hands, his mouth, are in constant requisition. During his waking hours, he cannot be kept still a moment. To the unobservant, he seems as if inspired with an intense spirit of mischief, an ardent love of destruction. But nothing can be more contrary to the fact. All these movements are caused by the divine love of knowledge, as yet neither broken

* " The bee works most geometrically, without any knowledge of geometry ; somewhat like a child, who, by turning the hand of an organ, makes good music, without any knowledge of music. The art is not in the child, but in him who made the organ. In like manner, when the bee makes its comb so geometrically, the geometry is not in the bee, but in that great Geometrician, who made the bee, and made all things, in number, weight, and measure." — Reid.

by disappointment, nor nnisled by the false philosophy that deals in nothing but empty sounds. In the strange world in which he finds himself, every thing is a marvel ; the most common object to us is, to him, full of interest. Hence, not satisfied with skimming the mere surface of things, he tears them apart, or dashes them in pieces, in search of more complete information. It signifies not, that these actions may be partly or wholly instinctive. This is the way, the only way, in which knowledge can be acquired.

For the next nme or twelve months, his education proceeds with the most surprising rapidity. In addition to the immense number of objects, with whose quahties he has made himself familiar, he has learnt to balance and support his body, to walk, and, wonderful to relate, he can perform the miracle of, — speech ! What an increase of interest does this last give to his studies ! To the knowledge of qualities, he now adds that of names, not mere dead vocables, but living language, the materials of thought. Our little philosopher now begins to trace resemblances, to distinguish differences, to generalize, to form his classifications, his theories. To one class of objects, he gives the name of mart, to another, tree, to a third, stone. And all this, without even the slightest offer of instruction from others. His store of knowledge is all of his own collecting. If he has assistance, it is from Nature alone.

From the age of one year, to that of four or five, the child, under the tuition of his first instructress. Nature, continues steadily and rapidly to advance in the knowledge of his vernacular language. But how does he contrive to add new words to his stock ^ Deals he in theory, or in practice ? Is it by means of the elements of words, or definitions^ or grammars ? Must he know the names of letters and syllables, before he can acquire a word ; and must he rely, for a knowledge of its meaning, on dictionaries, or oral definitions ? No, truly. Nature's method is directly the reverse of that of man. By observation he learns a few names, in constant use ; and he acquires the knowledge of verbs, qualities, and particles, by observing their connexion with those known names : in other words, by the context. Who ever thought of explaining to a child the meaning of the words, good, bad, love, this, he, from, to, for, &c. Only let the attempt be made, and its utter futility will quickly appear.

Meanwhile, his knowledge of things increases as fast as his stock of wordsr His sphere of observation is rapidly extended, and all his senses are engaged in philosophical investigations into the nature of the objects around him ; the minerals, vegetables, animals, and works of art, which adorn the earth ; the sun, moon, and stars, which embellish the heavens.

While the intellectual powers of the child are thus in a state of progressive developement, his physical education is by no means at a stand. If he have received a moderately healthy constitution from his parents, he delights to spend his time in the open air, where his lungs can have full play, and where his limbs may expand and gain strength, by unrestricted exercise. The children of the poor have here a decided advantage over those of the rich ; for such, unfortunately, are the weakness and folly of the latter, that the health of their offspring is too frequently sacrificed, at the shrine of their vanity and love of display. Fashion, that insatiable Moloch, is not content with the consecration, by its devotee, of his own soul, purse, and person. It demands, that his child shall pass through the fire ; that, at whatever risk to his health and intellect, his body shall be converted into a mere clothesscreen for the display of the frivolous fancies of the tailor and milliner. Where such a sacrifice has been consummated, it is vain to look, either for strength of body or vigor of intellect. The unfortunate little victim must neither run, chmb, wade, roll, nor play. The clothes must neither be torn nor soiled. Every thing must give way to the clothes. And, finally, the child, if he survive, grows up a mere dandy ; " a clothes-w^earing man ; a man whose trade, office, and existence, consists in the wearing of clothes." When shall this base idolatry come to an end ? When shall the Moloch of Christendom be pulled from his throne, and cast into that fire, wherein so many of his victims have perished. This can be accomplished only by a radical change in female education. Female influence is, here, all in all.

But to return. During this portion of his life, too, the moral sense of the child begins to be developed. He perceives, that there are many other beings in the world besides himself, some of whom have the same claims that he has, on the attention of his parents. He finds out, that he cannot have his own way in every thing ; that to attempt it is only to subject himself to suffering ; that it is necessary that he should, in some degree, respect the rights of others. Should his parents, at this period, have sufficient tact, to notice and encourage the first appearance of sympathy with the joys and sorrows of others^ an antagonist to the selfish principle will soon be more or less developed, that may neutralize many of its evil effects ; while, on the contrary, should this be neglected, and his selfish views and actions be encouraged, as is too frequently the case, it may probably attain a degree of strength, that may tinge his maturer age with the darkest colors, seriously affecting both his future usefulness and happiness. For no truth in morals is more certain, than that no one can be happy who fives for himself alone ; and that the stronger the affections, the greater the chance for felicity.

But who is the great, moral schoolmaster, at this critical period of the child's life ? It is public opinion, acting through the conversation and example of his parents, of his brothers and sisters, and of his other playfellows. It is the combined power of the whole human race^ which may correctly be denominated custom, or TRADITION. Through this medium, Moses and the Prophets, Christ and his Apostles, Luther, Calvin, Faust, his pilgrim forefathers, Penn, Washington, Franklin, and even Watt, Fulton, and McAdam, combine, in moulding this precious germ of immortality. Among this host of worthies, however, many evil influences throw their quota into the formation of what may be considered tradition. The folfies and vices of the surrounding world ; the superstitions of our Saxon and Norman ancestors ; 2* nay, the dark blot of slavery, which stains so large a portion of our country, contributes its share in the formation of character, even where it has never existed.

The child has now arrived at the age, at which it is usual for his school education to commence, the results of which have already been noticed. Let us continue to observe the results of his education from other sources.

His childish associates now continually increase in number, and, with their extension, his ideas proportionally expand. Nature, hkewise, is beheld on a larger scale. He begins to discover, without the aid of books, that the world is not all contained within the narrow circle of his horizon. He hears of richer climes, of the extensive wilds of the unbounded West, and of the crowded marts along the Atlantic coast, in his native land, and of distant seas and foreign lands, beyond them. His parents take him to the House of God, of whom, already, he has attained some vague, undefined notion. Here, however, whatever may be the case in after years, as yet he gains but little direct instruction. The teacher in that important school is commonly too full of his learning, or has not the talent (and it is one of the first order) of accommodating his language to the comprehension of our pupil, and of the other children of larger growth^ who listen to his instructions. The indirect influence, however, is powerful.- — The town meeting begins to attract his notice. He swallows, with avidity, the pohtical knowledge to be picked up in that arena, and acquires some general ideas of his rights and duties. The district school meeting, also, proves to him a source of information. In those two schools, our future legislators receive their chief training. But most of his knowledge of justice, forms of law, rights, and wrongs, is derived from our judicial establishmentSjfrom the more solemn, formal courts in the county town, to the more simple dispensation of right in the justice's office.

Such, independently of the teachings in the district schoolhouse, are the principal seminaries for training our youth in knowledge and in virtue. Many other influences, for good and for evil, might be enumerated. But these are sufficient for our purpose.

And now, reader, what thinkest thou of the supply of virtue and intelhgence, furnished by our primary schools ? At the great table of knowledge, where our youth are fed, where their physical powers and intellectual and moral faculties are nourished and expanded, from their first appearance in the infant, to their full growth in the perfect man, whsit proportion is supplied by School Education as it is ? Is it really more than

" A beggarly account of empty boxes,"

" thinly scattered, to make up a show ?" — Shakspeare.

Are not most of our district schools, places where foundations are laid, upon which no superstructure is to be reared ; acquisitions made merely for the rust and the moth to corrupt ?*

We shall presently see, what different results might reasonably be expected from the School, as it should be : where real knowledge should be dispensed, instead of its semblance ; kernels, in place of husks and shells. Meanwhile, let us continue our examination of the School as it is^ under the different aspects of physical, intellectual, and moral, education.!

* In a Report on the State of Education in Bengal, published by order of the government of that country, the following melancholy picture is drawn of the state of the schools. We leave it to every one to decide for himself, how much of it is applicable to those of New England. " The scholars are entirely without instruction, both literary and oral, regarding the personal virtues, and domestic and social duties. The teacher, in virtue of his character, or in the way of advice or reproof, exercises no moral influence on the character of his pupils. For the sake of pay, he performs a menial service, in the spirit of a menial. On the other hand, there is no text or school-book used, containing any moral truths or liberal knowledge ; so that education, being limited entirely [chiefly] to accounts, tends rather to narrow the mind and confine its attention to sordid gai?i, than to improve the heart and enlarge the understanding.

t In an address delivered at Worcester, Massachusetts, a few years ago, the orator said, " We see the magic influence of our schools, in the habits of industry, sobriety, and order, which prevail in the community ; in the cheerful obedience yielded to the laws ; and in the acts of charity and benevolence, which are, every day, multiplied around us." This sentence, to be correct, should be read thus : " If properly conducted, we should see the magic influence of our schools, in the habits of industry, sobriety, and order, which would prevail," &c. That the community do possess habits of industry, sobriety, and order.

Chapter III. Physical Education

Physical education relates to the body. To it belong the proper training and strengthening of all its powers, and the avoidance of every thing calculated to injure its structure. Nature, here, is the great preceptress. If we only attend to her warnings, we shall seldom go wrong ; and, when we neglect them, we are sure of punishment, more or less severe. Our present duty, then, will be, chiefly, to point out the deviations from Nature's course, while the child is at school.

The first and most striking error, in physical education, is the unnecessary confinement to which the child is subjected. At the early age at which he first goes to school, nothing can be more painful, nor more pernicious. No one that has observed a youth, between the age of three and six, can doubt, that Nature requires, that he should be almost constantly in motion, during his waking hours. At this period, he is all activity, for ever engaged in some employment, by which he is acquiring knowledge, at the same time that he is developing and strengthening his physical powers. How painful, then, how unnatural, must be his situation in school ! Pent up, for nearly six hours a day, confined to one seat, and that, generally, a very uneasy one, where, notwithstanding, he is forced to sit perfectly still and silent, without employment, (for the pretence of study, at that age, is truly ridiculous,) how irksome must be his condition, how prejudicial to his health ! And what aggravates the evil is, that it is wholly unnecessary. For the extended confinement defeats the very purpose for which it is imposed. " The body and mind," says Sterne, " are like a jerkin and its lining. If you rumple the one,

is undoubtedly true ; but the speaker attributed them to a wrong source. Nor can any one doubt, that the schools might easily be so modified, as to have a powerful influence in improving and extending such beneficial habits.

you rumple the other." Besides the injury to his health, his mind becomes heavy and dull, and his progress, consequently, is not half what it would be under a more rational course. What that course should be, will be pointed out in its proper place.

The next evil, imperatively calling for a remedy, is the improper location of the schoolhouse. This, from a paltry spirit of niggardliness, is usually placed, immediately on, nay, sometimes even in, the highway, to the constant annoyance of the school, from dust and noise, when it is in a populous neighborhood. There is, commonly, no play-ground. The scholars must either use the road for that purpose, to the manifest danger of their own lives and limbs, as well as those of passing strangers ; or they must trespass on the adjoining property, thus giving rise to disputes and feuds in the community, and, among themselves, to a want of respect for the property of others, leading to various injurious results.

In many places, there is no woodhouse ; or, if there be one, it is too small, to accommodate the children, during recess, in bad weather. They are, consequently, confined at such times to the schoolroom, where the checked prompting of Nature to play and exercise spends itself in injuring and destroying the school-furniture.

The schoolroom is too small, either for convenience, comfort, or health. The seats are narrow, and too high for many of the children, so that their feet hang dangling, thus adding to their uneasiness, increasing their restlessness, preventing praper attention to their books, and having, also, a direct tendency to produce deformity in the Hmbs. For, if the seat be narrow, half the thigh, only, rests upon it ; if too high, the feet do not reach the floor. Now, most children go first to school while many of their bones are still in the forming state, httle else but gristle, and when any of the numerous joints may be easily loosened or distorted. " They go almost as early as when the Chinese turn their childrens' feet into the shape of horses' hoofs; or when some tribes of Indians make their children's heads as square as a joiner's box. And, at this period of life, the question is, whether the seats shall be conformed to the children, or the children deformed to the seats. Let any man try the experiment, and see how long he can sit in an upright posture, on a narrow bench or seat, without being able to reach the floor with his feet, and, consequently, with the whole weight of his feet and the lower part of his limbs acting with the power of a lever across the middle of the thigh bones. Yet, to this position, hundreds of children are regularly confined, month after month ; and, while condemned to this unnatural posture. Nature inflicts her punishments of insupportable uneasiness and distress on every joint and muscle, if they do sit still, and the teacher inflicts his punishments, if they do not. A gentleman, extensively known to the citizens of this State, for the benevolence of his character, and the candor of his statements, who, for the last twenty years, has probably visited more of our common schools, than any other person in the State, writes to me as follows : ' I have no hesitation in repeating, what I have so often publicly declared, that, from the bad construction of our schoolhouses, there is more physical suffering endured by our children in them, than by prisoners in our jails and prisons.' "* There are no convenient places under the desks, for putting away the books and slates. The closet for hats and coats is small and inconvenient, or altogether wanting, so that the children acquire disorderly and wasteful habits with their clothes, either throwing them, carelessly, on the benches, or heaping them on the table, which leads to a scene of tumult and disorder at the close of the school. The room is badly ventilated, so that, in cool weather, when the doors and windows aire kept shut, the children are forced to breath the same air, over and over, until it has become unfit for respiration, thus laying a foundation for debility and disease.