Working models of pumps, archimedean screws, mechanical powers, and steam engines are within the reach of most, and some simple forms of orery. There is an inexpensive one with the world inside a glass globe, on which are engraved a few circles, and this removes the difficulty which most children feel on seeing a pair of globes.

Marks, reports, prizes, place-taking.In former times when lessons were made less interesting, many ways were employed to keep up attention. Place-taking, by which each child took down all above her who failed to answer a particular question. This was most distracting; and so much depended on accident, that it was impossible by means of it to arrive at any trustworthy conclusions. Except for small children it has wholly gone out. The giving of counters has found more favour on the Continent, but this lends itself to barter, and anything which fosters the habit of considering what we can get by knowledge, is destructive of that calmness, that “wise passiveness” which is as necessary for mental, as for physical assimilation; it is equivalent to playing games, or running about during dinner-time. Some record there should be of each exercise, some “stock-taking” at intervals, and these intervals should for little ones be short, for time passes more slowly with them. If the head mistress each week looks over the mark-book in the presence of the class and the teacher, she is kept in touch with all, comes to know if there are girls who are wasting their time, and is able to give encouragement or reproof, and strengthen the hands of teachers. If there are a great number of lessons returned, she may find that a specialist is making unreasonable demands; she sees if corrections have been omitted by the teacher—in fact, notices things which, if left to the end of the term, might have resulted in considerable mischief. It is undesirable, however, to take up much of the teacher’s time in adding up marks, and placing pupils in order of merit; it may be left to individual class teachers to do as they think best; there is no need in this for uniformity of practice, and it is always well to give every teacher as much liberty in following her own methods, as is consistent with the general management.

In language exercises the number of faults can be written at the end, and classified as mere careless ones, and those for which there is at least some excuse—the former being counted double. In these and other exercises a maximum say of ten marks may be given; in many the teacher can give only a general estimate, but when returning books, she can show why she puts a higher estimate on one than on another. In junior classes the marks may be added, read with comments, and perhaps sent home each week. A sort of weather chart is used by us in the youngest classes—showing for each week whether they have risen or fallen in the number of marks.

Prizes, in part determined by work done at home, are dangerous, the temptation to get undue help is great; a conscientious child will reject such assistance as would be really good for her, lest she should gain an unfair advantage. Prizes given on the result of examinations, provided they are given not to the best, but to all who have attained a certain standard, are less objectionable; we cannot make it too clear that good may be better than best, and that the only praise we should desire is to hear: “She hath done what she could”.

Public prize-givings seem to me very undesirable. A terminal report parents may reasonably look for, and words of blame or encouragement may be made very helpful to the child. Punishments in the shape of doubled lessons, lines, etc., are objectionable; if a duty has been neglected, or badly done, it has to be done at an inconvenient time—say in the afternoon. A fine may be required for untidiness and damage—in order to compensate others for trouble and expense, but to inflict a fine for breaking rules is altogether wrong. At a school I knew, where this was done, girls would deliberately break rules, e.g., talk at prohibited times, and say they were going to have “three pennyworth”. Into a matter of right and wrong, money cannot enter; so also conduct prizes should, I think, never be given; the proper reward for doing right is a good conscience, and the trust, friendship, respect of others.

Use of examinations.Having lived through the pre-examination period, and seen the great evils which resulted from there being no test, I cannot join in the popular condemnation. There is no unmixed good, and many mistakes, which we learn to avoid later, are made when a system is new. I shall regard examinations only from the point of view of their value educationally. (1) They are useful as a test of what we really know; preparation for them enables us to find out what are our permanent possessions; (2) competitive examination compels us to set these in order, and estimate their relative importance. (3) Examinations tend to produce presence of mind, mental self-control, (4) to suppress wordiness and abolish a florid style, and (5) to make us feel the supreme importance of clearness and accuracy.

Examining is a difficult art, and examiners have to learn their métier. All are not perfect; the process of reading papers is exhausting, and after reading ninety-nine, an examiner may fail to appreciate the exquisite thought and philosophic insight of the hundredth. It is possible he may form an erroneous opinion regarding some unusual performance—there have been reviewers who failed to appreciate the early volumes of Wordsworth, Tennyson and Browning; there are examiners, however, really sympathetic, laborious, and anxious to see what has been done (which is limited) rather than find out what has not been done (which is unlimited), and these may give much help both by their criticisms and their encouragement. It is good for all of us to have our work tested by a competent critic.

An internal examination, if well conducted, is most valuable, as it can better follow the work, but on the other hand, many teachers feel that an internal examination places them too much at the mercy of caprice, or personal feeling, and hence prefer a central one, such as the University Locals.

Regular attendance.Schools must insist on punctuality in returning, and no unnecessary absences should be allowed. Children who are absent cannot follow the teaching in the next lesson, and laggards demoralise the class and distract the teacher, who feels she is not understood.

Rapport with the class.In conclusion let me say the teacher must have the power of holding the class. She must be sensitive to the least inattention, quick to discern whether it is her fault or that of the pupil, and take her measures accordingly, acting always upon the wholesome maxim (which should never be heard outside the common room), certainly never whispered to parents, that it is always the teacher’s fault, if pupils do not learn. When she fails to establish the rapport between herself and her class, she must try to discover the cause of her failure. Young children, like wild animals, are tamed by the eye, and a class is controlled by a teacher who sees everything that goes on. If a teacher when using the board turns away and writes in silence, a restless child is almost sure to play some amusing trick, and it may take a considerable time to recover attention. If experiments are performed, the teacher, like the conjurer, should never cease talking or questioning. If she cannot manage to do both, she must have an assistant.

Dress, manner, etc.She must avoid awkward tricks. I knew two very distinguished teachers whose lectures were admirable, but one had a habit of pulling a tuft of hair, and another would stuff his handkerchief carefully into his folded hand, and then draw it out again—to the great distraction of the class. We have all heard of the parliamentary orator and his button.

A study of the Pedagogical Seminary for August, 1897, would be profitable to teachers careless about externals. The article is called “A Study in Morals”. The question was put in writing and answered by twenty-three boys and one hundred and sixty girls: “Reflect which teachers, from kindergarten to college, you have liked best, and been influenced most by, and try to state wherein the influence was felt. Account if you can for the exceptional influence of that particular teacher. Was it connected with dress, manner, voice, looks, bearing, learning, religious activity, etc.? Four out of five mentioned the manner of the teacher as exerting an influence. One in three speaks of the voice, one in four speaks of dress.” These externals, as we are apt to call them, are the outcome of the personality, or they would not exert influence. We must therefore so order our inner being that manner, voice, dress, should express self-respect and unselfishness, right feeling, love of order, good taste.

If I were writing a treatise on psychology, I might insist on the teacher’s gaining an insight into the contents of the child’s mind—what Herbart calls apperception-masses, but in this short introduction I can only touch on the subject. I subjoin a short list of books not too difficult for teachers. I conclude with a few common rules derived from psychological observation and a few practical hints for the schoolroom.

A FEW PRACTICAL PRECEPTS.

This is not a treatise on psychology but a practical hand-book for young teachers. Before entering on the special subjects, it may be well to say something of the application of the principles which are familiar to all who are trained, and dwell upon a few of the most important.

(1) There is the fundamental precept, awaken interest. Have you seen the Medusa spreading its tentacles idly on the waves? Have you watched the change as it fastens on its prey? So does the mind grasp that which is suitable for its nourishment. As the intelligence of the child awakens, it no longer perceives in the lazy, dreamy way in which the infant is conscious of a light; it apperceives, takes into itself the object, the word, the thought, and grows thereby.

(2) Avoid distractions. The senses and the mind must be fixed on the subject of instruction. When a bird is to be taught to speak, he is placed in a dark room, shielded from the distractions of sight, until the words are acquired, then the use of other senses than hearing is permitted; so little children require more quietness and isolation than older ones.

Distractions are not all of sense. The mind is distracted by fear. How dreadful are the old pictures of the dame, teaching rod in hand, or the master with his cane; some may remember the music teacher ready to rap the knuckles, and know how all sense of harmony was destroyed. And it is so also with the seeking of rewards. I hope place-taking and prizes and scholarships will one day follow the rod and the cane, and children be led from their earliest years to feel, what is really natural to them, that knowledge is in itself a pleasure and a good.

(3) Proceed from the known to the unknown. Observe the laws of association; for this a teacher must be in intellectual sympathy with her pupils—know and feel by an inner sense, when mind is responding to mind. I have heard some so-called teachers, who spoke like a book, who were lecturers; they saw their own thoughts, but not those of their pupils, and were therefore unable to lead them on. E.g., if a sum was wrong, they would say, “Do it thus,” instead of inquiring into the cause of the mistake. In questioning they would not try to see into the child’s mind.

It is more difficult to enter into intellectual sympathy with very little ones, hence we need specially able teachers for them. It is also better for class teachers not to change too often, as it takes time to get into sympathy with a new class. Of course specialists have to do this; it is one reason why cæteris paribus they are less successful than class teachers.

(4) Proceed in classifying by noticing first the likenesses, then the differences—in other words, proceed from the genus to the species. There are some excellent chapters on this in Rosmini’s Method of Education, translated by Mrs. Grey, p. 15.

(5) Make lessons pleasant. This does not imply that the act of learning should be always easy or amusing. Children like to feel they are making progress, and a teacher wearies them who is always trying to be amusing, but does not really get them on. Porridge has a very plain taste, but for everyday fare even children prefer it to tarts for breakfast. A London confectioner was asked, if he did not find the many boys he employed make depredations. “No,” he said, “when first they come I tell them they may eat what they like; in a few days they make themselves sick and eat no more.” There was a book called the Decoy, a story mixed with conversations on grammar; children always managed to get the story without the grammar. They like sums and history for regular meals, fairy tales for dessert.

(6) Teaching must be adapted to the mental state of the pupil, and be just a little above his unassisted intelligence. It is a worse fault to teach below than above the powers of the child. I shall never forget my indignation at having a book given me, which was below my powers, nor the stimulus of trying to do what was hard. One who was afterwards a distinguished teacher, told me how the Maurice lectures helped him, by making him feel there were regions of thought on which he had not yet entered. Knowledge quite within reach does not promote progress. A friend who had a night school was told by its members, “We want to be taught something as we can’t understand”. They meant something they could not learn without help; they wanted to overcome difficulties.

(7) Form right habits. We should as far as possible prevent the making of mistakes even once. A child when reading the Bible miscalled the word patriarch, reading it partridge; when an old man, he never saw the word without recalling his error. Hence we should not give children misspelt words, or bad grammar to correct, or let them write exercises before the ear has been cultivated to know what is right. I knew a music master who would anticipate mistakes, and stop the pupil, saying: “You shall not play that wrong note”.

On the other hand each repetition of a right action makes it easier, and the prime work of the educator is to form right habits; these should become instinctive, and so set free thought for ever higher and more perfect performance.

(8) Awaken and sustain the spirit of inquiry. We need, however, to be very careful not to ask questions, which the child cannot possibly answer. This encourages mere guessing, and the habit of deciding upon insufficient data. We should question the pupils, and build on their knowledge, but as they get older the viva voce questioning may be overdone—and for the highest classes it would be simply a distraction. For these it is well to give questions to be thought out, and answered in writing. Pascal’s father shut him up alone to find out the translation of a classical author; there are so many helps now, that people rely upon them when they might gain vigour by grappling with difficulties. No intellectual habit is more essential than the habit of patient, sustained inquiry, that described by Newton when he said: “I keep the subject of my inquiry continually before me, till the first dawning opens gradually by little and little to the perfect day”.

(9) Foster intellectual ambition. Help the child to feel the joy of surmounting difficulties, of climbing the heights. This invigorates the intellectual life. Some can remember how, e.g., they grappled with the dull work of early mathematical study, that they might one day learn to solve the problems of astronomy, or went through the labour of learning irregular verbs, that they might read the poetry and philosophy of Greece.

(10) Put before pupils the highest ideals which they can appropriate. These are not the same at each stage of development. The little child desires first to have something, and this is not wrong. Later it feels more the need of love, of approbation, and this is a legitimate and right motive; it is generally his best guide, until he can exercise himself, irrespective of the outward voice, to have a “conscience void of offence”. We have to teach him to discriminate voices which are in harmony with, from those in discord from, that inward voice, and to make this ultimately his supreme law.

(11) The ultimate ideal or final cause should be implied in all that we teach, viz., the attainment of the perfect development of the individual, through bringing each into harmony with the environment, the universal, and thereby on the other hand helping to perfect the whole. For this, wisdom and self-denial and sympathy with the noblest and the best are to be sought, and above all with the One, the Infinite Wisdom revealed in Nature, in the world of thinking beings and in the self-conscious mind. All should feel in their inmost soul what Milton has expressed:—

The Bureau of Education, U.S.A., issues valuable reports each year, which are presented to the Teachers’ Guild and a few favoured places. They always contain a great deal of interesting matter.

The Pedagogical Seminary, edited by Dr. Stanley Hall, should be studied by all who desire to keep in touch with the new scientific methods. No. for Aug., 1897, is specially good.