No one, then, can fail to see the advantages that would result to a densely-settled community from a union of two or more districts for the purpose of maintaining in each a school for the younger children, and of establishing in the central part of the associated districts a school of a higher grade for the older and more advanced children of all the districts thus united. If four districts should be united in this way, they might erect a central house, C, for the larger and more advanced scholars, and four smaller ones, p p p p, for the younger children. The central school might be taught by a male teacher, with female assistants, if needed; but the primary schools, with this arrangement, could be more economically and successfully instructed by females. In several of the states legal provisions are already made for such a consolidation of districts. This would invite a more perfect classification of scholars, and would allow the central school-house to be so constructed, and to have the seats and desks of such a height as to be convenient for the larger grade of scholars, and still be comfortable for other purposes for which it might occasionally be necessary to occupy it. Such an arrangement, while it would obviate the almost insuperable difficulties which stand in the way of proper classification and the thorough government and instruction of schools, would at the same time offer greater inducements to the erection of more comfortable and attractive school-houses.

Cities and Villages.—The plan suggested in the last paragraph may be perfected in cities and villages. For this purpose, where neither the distance nor the number of scholars is too great, some prefer to have all the schools of a district or corporation conducted under the same roof. However this may be, as there will be other places for public meetings of various kinds, each room should be appropriated to a particular department, and be fitted up exclusively for the accommodation of the grade of scholars that are to occupy it. In cities, and even in villages with a population of three or four thousand, it is desirable to establish at least three grades of schools, viz., first, the primary, for the smallest children; second, the intermediate, for those more advanced; and, third, a central high school, for scholars that have passed through the primary and intermediate schools. While this arrangement is favorable to the better classification of the scholars of a village or city, and holds out an inducement to those of the lowest and middle grade of schools to perfect themselves in the various branches of study that are pursued in them respectively as the condition upon which they are permitted to enter a higher grade, it also allows a more perfect adjustment of the seats and desks to the various requirements of the children in their passage through the grade of schools.

New York Free Academy.—In the public schools of the city of New York, two hundred in number, six hundred teachers are employed, and one hundred thousand children annually receive instruction. The Free Academy, which is a public school of the highest grade, and which is represented in our frontispiece, was established by the Board of Education in 1847. The expense of the building, without the furniture, was $46,000, and the annual expense for the salaries of professors and teachers is about $10,000. Out of twenty-four thousand votes cast, twenty thousand were for the establishment of this institution, in which essentially a complete collegiate education may be obtained. No students are admitted to it who have not attended the public schools of the city for at least one full year, nor these until they have undergone a thorough examination and proved themselves worthy. Its influence is not confined to the one hundred or one hundred and fifty scholars who may graduate from it annually, but leaches and stimulates the six hundred teachers, and the hundred thousand children whom they instruct, and thus elevates the common schools of the city in reality not only, but places them much more favorably before the public than they otherwise could be.

Smaller cities, and especially villages with a population of but a few thousand, can not, of course, maintain so extended a system of public schools; but they can accomplish essentially the same thing more perfectly, though on a smaller scale. For the benefit of districts in the country and in villages, I will here insert a few plans of school-houses.

Ventilation of School-houses.—We have already seen that in a school-room occupied by forty-five persons, thirty-two thousand four hundred cubic inches of air impart their entire vitality to support animal life the first minute, and, mingling with the atmosphere of the room, proportionably deteriorate the whole mass; that the air of crowded school-rooms thus soon becomes entirely unfit for respiration, and that, as the necessary result, the health of both teacher and scholars is endangered; that the scholars gradually lose both the desire and the ability to study, and become more inclined to be disorderly, while the teacher becomes continually more unfit either to teach or govern. Hence the necessity of frequent and thorough ventilation.

The ordinary facilities for ventilating school-rooms consist in opening a door and raising the lower sash of the windows. The only ventilation which has been practiced in the great majority of schools has been entirely accidental, and has consisted in opening and closing the outer door as the scholars enter and pass out of the school-house, before school, during the recesses, and at noon. Ventilation, as such, I may safely say, has not, until within a few years, been practiced in one school in fifty; nor is it at the present time in many parts of the country. It is true, the door has at times been set open a few minutes, and the windows have been occasionally raised, but the object has been either to let the smoke pass out of the room, or to cool it when it has become too warm, not to ventilate it.

Ventilation by opening a door or raising the windows is imperfect, and frequently injurious. A more effectual and safer method of ventilation consists in lowering the upper sash of the window. In very cold or stormy weather, a ventilator in the ceiling may be opened, so as to allow the vitiated air to escape into the attic, in which case there should be a free communication between the attic and the outer air by means of a lattice in the gable, or otherwise. A ventilator may also be constructed in connection with the chimney, by carrying up a partition in the middle, one half of the chimney being used for a smoke flue, and the other half for a ventilator.

But it is often asked, Why is it not just as well to raise the lower sash of the windows as to lower the upper one? In reply I would say, first, lowering the upper sash is a more effectual method of ventilation. In a room which is warmed and occupied in cold weather, the warmer and more vitiated portions of the air rise to the upper part of the room, while that which is colder and purer descends. The reason for this may not be readily conceived, especially when we consider that carbonic acid, the vitiating product of respiration, is specifically heavier than common air. Three considerations, however, will make it apparent. 1. Gases of different specific gravity mix uniformly, under favorable circumstances. 2. The carbonic acid which is exhaled from the lungs at about blood heat is hence rarefied, and specifically lighter than the air in the room, which inclines it to ascend. 3. The ingress of cold and heavier air from without is chiefly through apertures near the base of the room. Raising the lower sash of the windows allows a portion of the purer air of the room to pass off, while the more vitiated air above is retained. Lowering the upper sash allows the impure air above to escape, while the purer air below remains unchanged.

Lowering the upper sash is also the safer method of ventilation. It not only allows the impure air more readily to escape, but provides also for the more uniform diffusion of the pure air from without, which takes its place through the upper part of the room. The renovated air will gradually settle upon the heads of the scholars, giving them a purer air to breathe, while the comfort of the body and lower extremities will remain undisturbed. This is as it should be; for warm feet and cool heads contribute alike to physical comfort and clearness of mind. Raising the lower sash of the windows endangers the health of scholars, exposing those who sit near them to colds, catarrhs, etc. Indeed, when it is very cold or stormy, it is unsafe to ventilate by lowering the upper sash of the windows. At such times, provision should be made for the escape of impure air at the upper part of the room, and for the introduction of pure air at the lower part, as will be shown while treating upon the means of warming.

Means of Warming.—Next in importance to pure air in a school-room is the maintenance of an even temperature. This is an indispensable condition of health, comfort, and successful labor. It is one, however, that is very generally disregarded; or, perhaps I should say, one that is not often enjoyed. School-houses are generally warmed by means of stoves, some of which are in a good condition, and supplied with dry, seasoned wood. The instances, however, in which such facilities for warming exist, are comparatively few. It is much more common to see cracked and broken stoves, the doors without either hinges or latch, with rusty pipe of various sizes. Green wood, also, and that which is old and partially decayed, either drenched with rain or covered with snow during inclement weather, is much more frequently used for fuel than sound, seasoned wood, protected from the weather by a suitable wood-house. With this state of things, it is exceedingly difficult to kindle a fire, which burns poorly, at best, when built. Fires, moreover, are frequently built so late, that the house does not become comfortably warm at the time appointed for commencing school. These neglects are the fruitful source of much discomfort and disorder. The temperature is fluctuating; the room is filled with smoke a considerable part of the time, especially in stormy weather; and the school is liable to frequent interruptions, in fastening together and tying up stove-pipe, etc., etc.

This may seem a little like exaggeration. I know full well there are many noble exceptions. But in a large majority of instances some of these inconveniences exist; and the most of them coexist much more frequently than persons generally are aware of. I speak from the personal observation of several thousand schools in different states, and from reliable information in relation to the subject from various portions of the country. I have myself many times heard trustees and patrons, who have visited their school with me for the first time in several years, say, "We ought to have some dry wood to kindle with; I didn't know as it was so smoky: we must get some new pipe; really, our stove is getting dangerous," etc. And some of the boys have relieved the embarrassment of their parents by saying, "It don't smoke near so bad to-day as it does sometimes!"

The principal reason why the stoves in our school-houses are so cracked and broken, and why the pipes are so rusty and open, lies in the circumstance that green wood, or that which is partially decayed and saturated with moisture, is used for fuel, instead of good seasoned wood, protected from the inclemency of the weather by a suitable wood-house. There are at least three reasons why this is poor policy. 1. It takes double the amount of wood. A considerable portion of the otherwise sensible heat becomes latent, in the conversion of ice, snow, and moisture into steam. 2. The steam thus generated cracks the stove and rusts the pipe, so that they will not last one half as long as though dry wood from a wood-house were used. 3. It is impossible to preserve an even temperature. Sometimes it is too cold, and at other times it is too warm; and this, with such means of warming, is unavoidable. Scores of teachers have informed me that, in order to keep their fires from going out, it was necessary to have their stoves constantly full of wood, and even to lay wood upon the stove, that a portion of it might be seasoning while the rest was burning. Aside from the inconvenience of a fluctuating temperature, this is an unseemly and filthy practice, and one that generates very offensive and injurious gases.

Again: I have frequently heard the following and similar remarks: "The use of stoves in our school-houses is a great evil;" "Stoves are unhealthy in our school-houses, or in any other houses," etc. This idea being somewhat prevalent, and stoves being generally used in our school-houses, their influence upon health becomes a proper subject for consideration.

Combustion, whether in a stove or fire-place, consists in a chemical union of the oxygen gas of the atmosphere with carbon, the combustible part of the wood or coal used for fuel. Carbonic acid, the vitiating product of combustion, does not, however, ordinarily deteriorate the atmosphere of the room, but, mingling with the smoke, escapes through the stove-pipe or chimney.

The stove, in point of economy, is far superior to the open fire-place as ordinarily constructed. When the latter is used, it has been estimated that nine tenths of the heat evolved ascends the chimney, and only one tenth, or, according to Rumford and Franklin, only one fifteenth, is radiated from the front of the fire into the room. Four-fold more fuel is required to warm a room by a fire-place than when a stove is used. Oxygen is, of course, consumed in a like proportion, and hence, when the open fire-place is used, there is necessarily a four-fold greater ingress of cold air to supply combustion than where a stove is employed.

And, what is of still greater importance, when a fire-place is used, it is impossible to preserve so uniform a temperature throughout the room as when a stove is employed. When a fire-place is used, the cold air is constantly rushing through every crevice at one end of the room to supply combustion at the other end. Hence the scholars in one part of the room suffer from cold, while those in the opposite part are oppressed with heat. The stove may be set in a central part of the room, whence the heat will radiate, not in one direction merely, but in all directions. In addition to this, as we have already seen, only one fourth as much air is required to sustain combustion, on both of which accounts a much more even and uniform temperature can be maintained throughout a room where a stove is used than where a fire-place is employed.

But whence, then, has arisen the prevailing opinion that stoves are unhealthy? There are two sources of mischief, either of which furnishes a sufficient foundation for this popular fallacy. The first has already been referred to, and consists simply in the almost total neglect of proper ventilation. The other lies in the circumstance that school-rooms are generally kept too warm. In addition to the inconvenience of too high a temperature, the aqueous vapor existing in the atmosphere in its natural and healthful state is dispersed, and the air of the room becomes too dry. The evil being seen, the remedy is apparent. Reduce the temperature of the room to its proper point, and supply the deficiency of aqueous vapor by an evaporating dish partially filled with pure water. If this is not done, the dry and over-heated air, which is highly absorbent of moisture in every thing with which it comes in contact, not only creates a disagreeable sensation of dryness on the surface of the body, but in passing over the delicate membrane of the throat, creates a tickling, induces a cough, and lays the foundation for pulmonary disease, especially when ventilation is neglected. The water in the evaporating dish should be frequently changed, and kept free from dirt and other impurities. Care also should be taken not to create more moisture than the air naturally contains, otherwise the effect will be positively injurious.

The evil complained of is attributable mainly to the maintenance of a too high temperature. Were a thermometer placed in many of our school-rooms—and a school-house should never be without one in every occupied apartment—instead of indicating a suitable temperature, say sixty-two or sixty-five degrees, or even a summer temperature, it would not unfrequently rise above blood heat. The system is thus not only enfeebled and deranged by breathing an infectious atmosphere, but the debility thence arising is considerably increased in consequence of too high a temperature. The two causes combined eminently predispose the system to disease. The change from inhaling a fluid poison at blood heat, to inhaling the purer air without at the freezing point or below, is greater than the system can bear with impunity.

A uniform temperature, which is highly important, can be more easily and more effectually maintained where a stove is employed, furnished with a damper, and supplied with dry, hard wood, than where a fire-place is used. In the former case the draft may be regulated, in the latter it can not be. A great amount of air enters into combustion even where a stove is used. A greater quantity enters into the combustion where a fire-place is used, in proportion to the increased amount of wood consumed. Much of the heated air, also, where an open fire-place is used, mingling with the smoke, passes off through the chimney, and its place is supplied by an ingress of cold air at the more distant portions of the room. There is hence not only a great waste of fuel, but a sacrifice of comfort, health, and life.

But even where a stove is used there is a constant ingress of cold air through cracks and defects in the floor, doors, windows, and walls, which causes it to be colder in the outer portions of the room than in the central portions and about the stove. The evil is the same in kind as that already referred to in speaking of fire-places, but less in degree. This evil, however, may be almost entirely obviated by a very simple arrangement, which will also do much to render ventilation at once more effectual and safe, especially in very cold and inclement weather. The arrangement is as follows:

Immediately beneath the floor—and in case the school-house is two stories high, between the ceiling and the floor above—insert a tube from four to six inches in diameter, according to the size of the rooms, the outer end communicating with the external air by means of an orifice in the under-pinning or wall of the house, and the other, by means of an angle, passing upward through the floor beneath the stove. This part of the tube should be furnished with a register, so as to admit much or little air, as may be desirable. This simple arrangement will reverse the ordinary currents of air in a school-room. The cold air, instead of entering at the crevices in the outer part of the room, where it is coldest, enters directly beneath the stove, where it is warmest. It thus moderates the heat immediately about the stove, and being warmed as it enters, and mingling with the heated air, establishes currents toward the walls, and gradually finds its way out at the numerous crevices through which the cold air previously entered. If these are not sufficient for the purpose, several ventilators should be provided in distant parts of the room, as already suggested. This simple arrangement, then, provides for the more even dissemination of heat through all parts of the room, and thus secures a more uniform temperature, and, at the same time, provides a purer air for respiration, contributes greatly to the comfort and health of the scholars, and fulfills several important conditions which are essential to the most successful prosecution of their studies, and to the maintenance and improvement of social and moral, as well as intellectual and physical health.

By inclosing the stove on three sides in a case of sheet iron, leaving a space of two or three inches between the case and the stove for an air chamber, the air will become more perfectly warmed before entering the room at the top of the case. The best mode, however, of warming and ventilating large school-houses is by pure air heated in a furnace placed in the basement. The whole house can in this way be warmed without any inconvenience to the school from maintaining the fires, on account of either noise, dust, or smoke. But as this mode of warming can not be advantageously adopted except in very large schools, it will not often be found desirable out of cities and large villages.

Library and Apparatus.—I have already said that every school-house should have a room for recitations, library, and apparatus. In country districts where but one teacher is employed in a school, it will perhaps generally be found convenient to conduct the majority of the recitations in the principal school-room. But even where this practice obtains, there is still urgent necessity for a room for a library, apparatus, and other purposes.

Several of the states have carried into successful operation the noble system of District Libraries. These, in the single state of New York, already contain nearly two millions of volumes. In some of the new states the system of Township Libraries has been adopted, which, on some accounts, is better adapted to a sparse population with limited means. These, in the State of Michigan, already contain one hundred thousand volumes. The director of each school district draws from the township library every three months the number of books his district is entitled to. These, for the time being, constitute the district library, and each citizen in the township is thus allowed the use of all the books in the township library.

Now, whichever of these systems is adopted, the school-house is the appropriate depository of the library. There are many reasons for this. It is central. It is the property of the district. During term-time it is visited daily by members from perhaps every family in the district. There may, and should be, a time fixed, at least once a week, when the library will be open, the librarian or his assistant being in attendance, at which time books may be returned and drawn anew. For this purpose, and on all accounts, no place can be so appropriate and free from objection as the school-house. The library may also be opened one or more evenings in the week, and especially during the winter, when evenings are long, as a district reading-room. Moreover, should a District Lyceum be established, the use of a well-selected library, which will always be at hand, and of appropriate apparatus for the illustration of scientific lectures, will contribute greatly to increase both the popularity and the usefulness of the institution.

With such an arrangement, the children of the district would most assuredly be much more benefited by the instructions they would receive. The school would also possess many attractions for adults of both sexes, and by the co-operation of the wise and the good, its refining, purifying, and regenerating influences may be brought effectually to bear upon every family and every individual within the boundaries of the district. Then will the idea of Cousin be realized, who says, "A school ought to be a noble asylum, to which children will come, and in which they will remain with pleasure; to which their parents will send them with good will;" and, I will add, one whose uplifting influence both children and parents will constantly feel.

Such a room as I have described will also be found important for various other purposes, as a commodious place for retirement in case of sudden indisposition, a place where a teacher may see a patron or a friend in private, should it be at any time desirable, or a parent his child. It would also be of great service in giving the teacher an opportunity to see scholars in private, for various purposes, as well as in affording a convenient room for scholars to retire to, with the permission of the teacher, for mutual instruction.

That able and judicious advocate of popular enlightenment, and eminently successful school officer, the Honorable Henry Barnard, does not over-estimate the importance of district libraries. In speaking of the benefits they confer upon a community, he says, "Wherever such libraries have existed, especially in connection with the advantages of superior schools and an educated ministry, they have called forth talent and virtue, which would otherwise have been buried in poverty and ignorance, to elevate, bless, and purify society. The establishment of a library in every school-house will bring the mighty instrument of good books to act more directly and more broadly on the entire population of a state than it has ever yet done; for it will open the fountains of knowledge, without money and without price, to the humble and the elevated, the poor and the rich."

Appurtenances to School-houses.—There are, perhaps, in the majority of school-houses, a pail for water, a cup, a broom, and a chair for the teacher. Some one or more of these are frequently wanting. I need hardly say, every school-house should be supplied with them all. In addition to these, every school-house should be furnished with the following articles: 1. An evaporating dish for the stove, which should be supplied with clean pure water. 2. A thermometer, by which the temperature of the room may be regulated. 3. A clock, by which the time of beginning and closing school, and conducting all its exercises, may be governed. 4. A shovel and tongs. 5. An ash-pail and an ash-house. For want of these, much filth is frequently suffered to accumulate in and about the school-house, and not unfrequently the house itself takes fire and burns down. 6. A wood-house, well supplied with seasoned wood. 7. A well, with provisions not only for drinking, but for the cleanliness of pupils. 8. And last, though not least, in this connection, two privies, in the rear of the school-house, separated by a high close fence, one for the boys and the other for the girls. For want of these indispensable appendages of civilization, the delicacy of children is frequently offended, and their morals corrupted. Nay, more, the unnatural detention of the fæces, when nature calls for an evacuation, is frequently the foundation for chronic diseases, and the principal cause of permanent ill health, resulting not unfrequently in premature death. The accommodations in this respect provided by a district in a country village of the Northwest, whose schools have become celebrated, are none too ample. Two octagonal privies are provided—one for each sex—each of which has seven apartments. These are cleansed every two weeks, regularly, and oftener, if necessary.

Mr. Barnard, in treating upon the external arrangements of school-houses, has the following sensible remarks: "The building should not only be located on a dry, healthy, and pleasant site, but be surrounded by a yard, of never less than half an acre, protected by a neat and substantial inclosure. This yard should be large enough in front for all to occupy in common for recreation and sport, and planted with oaks, elms, maples, and other shady trees, tastefully arranged in groups and around the sides. In the rear of the building, it should be divided by a high and close fence, and one portion, appropriately fitted up, should be assigned exclusively for the use of boys, and the other for girls. Over this entire arrangement the most perfect neatness, seclusion, order, and propriety should be enforced, and every thing calculated to defile the mind, or wound the delicacy or the modesty of the most sensitive, should receive attention in private, and be made a matter of parental advice and co-operation.

"In cities and populous districts, particular attention should be paid to the play-ground, as connected with the physical education of children. In the best-conducted schools, the play-ground is now regarded as the uncovered school-room, where the real dispositions and habits of the pupils are more palpably developed, and can be more wisely trained, than under the restraint of an ordinary school-room. These grounds are provided with circular swings, and are large enough for various athletic games. To protect the children in their sports in inclement weather, in some places, the school-house is built on piers; in others, the basement story is properly fitted up, and thrown open as a play-ground."

A good and substantial room, well fitted up, and properly warmed in cold weather, in which children may conduct their sports, under the supervision of a teacher or monitor, is of the utmost importance; and especially is this true of all schools for small children. Such a room is, indeed, for these, hardly less important than the school-room. Among other things, it should be supplied with dumb-bells,[70] see-saws, weights and measures of various kinds, etc., etc. These are important for both boys and girls; but, as they are uncommon, it may be well to suggest the proper mode of using them, and the advantages they confer.

Dumb-bells may be used, in connection with the sports enumerated in the third chapter, for developing and strengthening the chest and improving the health. I would refer any who question the fitness of such exercises to what has been said on the subject at the 77th and following pages, and especially to the testimony of Dr. Caldwell there introduced.

See-saws, in addition to the benefits that result from the exercise, are attractive, and may be rendered highly instructive. For this purpose, the plank or board used should be well hung and properly balanced. The distance from the fulcrum or point of support should be accurately graduated, and marked in feet and inches. Then, knowing the weight of one scholar, the weights of all the others may be ascertained by their relative distances from the fulcrum when they exactly balance. These interesting experiments may be tried by any child as soon as he understands the ground rules of arithmetic, and the simple fact that, for two children to balance, the product of the weight of one multiplied into his distance from the fulcrum will exactly equal the product of the weight of the other into his distance from the fulcrum. Such simple experiments, when thus mingled with sports, and made interesting to young children, serve the double purpose of attaching them to the school, and of fixing in their minds the habit of observation and experiment, and of understanding the why and wherefore, which will be of incalculable service to them all the way through life.

Weights and measures serve the same general purpose, and may be rendered well-nigh as useful as slates and black-boards. Thousands of children recite every year the table, "four gills make a pint, two pints make a quart, four quarts make a gallon," etc., month in and month out, without any distinct idea of what constitutes a gill or a quart, or even knowing which of the two is the greater. But let these measures be once introduced into the experimental play-room, and let the child, under the supervision of the teacher or monitor, actually see that four gills make a pint, etc., and he will learn the table with ten-fold greater pleasure than he otherwise would, and in one tenth the time.

The same general remark will apply to the other tables of weight and measure, to experimental philosophy, and to nearly every branch of study pursued in the common schools of our country. I have but one other general remark to make on this subject, and that is in relation to the

Influence of School-houses.—Cicero observes that the face of a man will be tinged by the sun, for whatever purpose he walks abroad; so, by daily associations, the minds of all persons are influenced, and their characters permanently affected, by scenes with which they are familiar; and especially is this true during the impressive periods of childhood and youth. Many persons seem to think that schoolmasters and school-mistresses do all the teaching in our schools. But it is not so. Fellow-students, neighbors, and citizens teach by precept and by example; and especially do school-houses teach. And oh! what lessons of degradation, pollution, and ruin they sometimes impart! as he can not fail to be convinced who remembers the testimony already introduced in relation to their condition.

I have seen the fond parent accompany his lovely child of four summers to the school the first day of its attendance. The child had seen pictures of school-houses in books. Pictures, if not always pretty, usually please children. It was so in this case. The child, anxious to go to school, talked of the school-house on the way. There arrived, the parent passed his innocent little one into the care of the teacher, with a few remarks, and was about to retire, when the child, clinging to him, said, pathetically and energetically, "Pa! pa!! I don't want to stay in this ugly old house; I am afraid it will fall down on me: I want to go home to our own pretty parlor." But the parent, breaking away from his child, leaves it in tears, with a sad heart. How cruel to do such violence to the tender feelings of innocent children! And how baneful the influence! The school, instead of being a comfortable, pleasant, and delightful place, as it should be, is to the child positively offensive, and the school-house a dreary prison. "Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined." The child learns to hate school, to hate instruction, and all that is good. He soon becomes the practiced truant. In a few years he arrives at manhood; but, instead of being a blessing to his family and a useful member of society, he too frequently drags out a wretched life, in ignorance and penury, dividing it between the poor-house and jail, and terminating it, peradventure, upon the gallows.

It needs the pen of a ready writer duly to portray the influence of neglected school-houses. Parents seem to have forgotten that, while men sleep, the enemy comes and sows tares; that if good school-houses do not elevate, neglected ones will pollute their children. I have already alluded, in the language of others, to the representations of vulgarity and obscenity that meet the eye in every direction. But I am constrained to add, that, during the intermissions, and before school, "certain lewd fellows of the baser sort" sometimes lecture in the hearing of the school generally, boys and girls, large and small, illustrating their subject by these vulgar delineations.

But why are these things so? And how may they be remedied? Different persons will answer these questions variously. But when we bear in mind that, in architectural appearance, school-houses have very generally more resembled barns, sheds for cattle, or mechanic shops, than Temples of Science; that windows are broken; that benches are mutilated; that desks are cut up; that wood is unprovided; that out-buildings are neglected; that obscene images and vulgar delineations meet the eye within and without; that, in fine, their very appearance is so contemptible, that scholars feel themselves degraded in being obliged to occupy them; when we bear in mind all these things, and then consider that the impressive minds of children are necessarily and permanently affected by scenes with which they become familiar, we can not wonder that they yield themselves to such influences, and consent to increase their degradation by multiplying the abominations with which they are surrounded. And especially shall we cease to wonder at the existence of these things, when we consider that scholars are very often unfurnished with suitable employment; that the younger scholars are frequently urged on by the example and influence of the older ones; and that teachers are sometimes employed who are so far lost to shame as to countenance these disgusting and corrupting practices by engaging in them themselves!

A knowledge of the cause suggests the remedy. Let, then, the school-house be commodious and cleanly; inviting in its appearance, and elevating in its influence. Let every member of the school, at all times, be furnished with entertaining and profitable employment. Let the corrupting influence of bad example be at once and forever removed. And, finally, let the services of a well-qualified teacher, of good morals, correct example, and who is scrupulously watchful, be invariably secured.

But if the mean appearance of our school-houses is one reason why they are so defaced, it may be asked, why do not our churches, which are frequently among the most elegant specimens of architecture, escape the pollution? The reason is evident. The foul habit is contracted in the unseemly school-house, and it becomes so established that it is very difficult to suspend its exercise even in the Temple of God. Were our school-houses, in point of neatness and architecture, equal to our churches, the evil in question would soon become less prevalent, and, with judicious supervision, we might safely predict its early extinction.

I would not suggest that too much pains are taken to make our churches pleasant and comfortable, but I do protest that there is a great and unwise disproportion in the appearance of our churches and school-houses. It is frequently the case in villages and country neighborhoods, that the expense of the former is from fifty to eighty times the value of the latter. The appearance of our school-houses is an important consideration. If we would cultivate the beastly propensities of our youth, we have but to provide them places of instruction resembling the hovels which our cattle occupy, and the work is well begun. On the contrary, if we would take into the account the whole duration of our being, and the cultivation and right development of the nobler faculties of our nature, while the animal propensities are allowed to remain in a quiescent state, and adapt means to ends, our school-houses should be pleasant and tasteful. Every thing offensive should be separated from them, and no pains should be spared to give them an inviting aspect and an elevating influence.

It is easier to make children good than to reform wicked men. It is cheaper to construct commodious school-houses, with pleasant yards and suitable appurtenances, than to erect numerous jails and extensive prisons. George B. Emerson, in a lecture on moral education, speaks to the point. "In regard to the lower animal propensities," says he, "the only safe principle is, that nothing should be allowed which has a tendency, directly or indirectly, to excite them. In many places there prevails an alarming and criminal indifference upon this point. It is one toward which the attention of the teacher should be carefully directed. No sound should be suffered from the lips; no word, or figure, or mark should be allowed to reach the eyes, to deface the wall of the house or out-house, which could give offense to the most sensitive delicacy. This is the teacher's business. He must not be indifferent to it. He has no right to neglect it. He can not transfer it to another. He, and he only, is responsible.[71] It is impossible to be over-scrupulous in this matter. And the committee should see that the teacher does his duty; otherwise all his lessons in duty are of no avail, and the school, instead of being a source of purity, delicacy, and refinement, becomes a fountain of corruption, throwing out poisonous waters, and rendering the moral influence more pestiferous than that fabled fountain of old, over which no creature of heaven could fly and escape death."

In conclusion, on this subject, I would say, if there is one house in the district more pleasantly located, more comfortably constructed, better warmed, and more inviting in its general appearance, and more elevating in its influence than any other, that house should be the school-house.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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