The Teacher / Moral Influences Employed in the Instruction and Government of the Young

by Jacob Abbott

RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE.

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

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

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

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

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

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

To this the monarchist might very properly reply,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So much ground, it seems, the teacher may occupy, by common consent, in this country, and it certainly is a great deal. It may be doubted whether, after all our disputes, there is a country in the world whose inhabitants have so much in common in regard to religious belief. There is, perhaps, no country in the world where the teacher may be allowed to do so much toward leading his pupils to fear God and to obey his commands, with the cordial consent of parents, as he can here.[3]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You may take your Bibles."

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

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

"Matthew," they all answer at once.

"The second?" "Mark." "The third?" "Luke." "The next?" "John." "The next?" "The Acts." "The next?"

Many answer, "Romans."

"The next?"

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

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

The boys answer promptly, "Revelations."

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

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

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

The boys hesitate.

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

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

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

"No, sir," is the universal reply.

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

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

"What comes next?"

"The epistles of Peter."

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

"Yes, sir."

"What comes next?"

"John's."

"Yes; and they are arranged in the order of their length. Do you now understand the principle of the arrangement of the epistles?"

"Yes, sir."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The other teacher says:

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

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

"Well, what would that motive be?"

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

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

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

"No, sir."

"What was the other?"

"Love of money."

"What is this?"

The boys hesitate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, sir," say the boys.

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

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

"Now suppose I call a sixth boy, and say to him, 'I have set four or five boys to work copying this piece of poetry; now I wish you to sit down, and see if you can not do it better than any of them. After all are done, I will compare them, and see if yours is not the best.' This would be trying to excite emulation. We must call this boy, then, E. But the time I intended to devote to talking with you on this subject for to-day is expired. Perhaps to-morrow I will take up the subject again."

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

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

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

"Can you name any of them?"

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

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

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

"'What are all these boys doing?'

"'They are writing.'

"'What are they writing?'

"'They are writing a piece of poetry.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

'What are they thinking of?'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, sir."

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

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

"Yes, sir."

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

James read as follows:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am aware that this book may fall into the hands of some who may take little interest in the subject of this chapter. To such I may perhaps owe an apology for having thus fully discussed a topic in which only a part of my readers can be supposed to be interested. My apology is this: It is obvious and unquestionable that we all owe allegiance to the Supreme. It is so obvious and unquestionable as to be entirely beyond the necessity of proof, for it is plain that nothing but such a bond of union can keep the peace among the millions of distinct intelligences with which the creation is filled. It is therefore the plain duty of every man to establish that connection himself and his Maker which the Bible requires, and to do what he can to bring others to the peace and happiness of piety. These truths are so plain that they admit of no discussion and no denial, and it seems to me highly unsafe for any man to neglect or to postpone the performance of the duty which arises from them. A still greater hazard is incurred when such a man, having forty or fifty fellow-beings almost entirely under his influence, leads them, by his example, away from their Maker, and so far that he must, in many cases, hopelessly confirm the separation. With these views, I could not, when writing on the duties of a teacher of the young, refrain from bringing distinctly to view this which has so imperious a claim.

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