NORMAL DEPARTMENT.

FIRST DAY.

TUESDAY-AUGUST 5th.

The Association was called to order at 2 o'clock P.M., by the President, A. G. BOYDEN, of Massachusetts. In his introductory remarks, he contrasted the state of affairs thirty-four years ago, when the first normal school in Massachusetts was opened with three pupils, with that which exists to-day, when almost every state in the Union is supplied with normal schools crowded with enthusiastic students. He said that public opinion was never so favorably disposed towards normal schools as at the present day; and yet never was there greater need of careful deliberation. He hoped that the discussions would be full of thought and earnestness, and that every member would be able to carry home with him something that would be useful and practical.

Dr. RICHARD EDWARDS, of Illinois, being absent on account of sickness, his paper was read by Mr. D. B. HAGAR, of Salem, Massachusetts, on

THE DUTIES AND DANGERS OF NORMAL SCHOOLS. Normal Schools, more than perhaps any other of our educational institutions, are liable to criticism and likely to incur hostility. There is in their very mission a sort of assumption that grates upon the nerves of certain sensitive persons. To set up as a teacher of teachers, to profess ability and intention to instruct mankind in a business that three-quarters of Yankee mankind and nine-tenths of Yankee womankind have been considered competent to perform by mere force of natural instinct,-is to put one's self into an invidious sort of attitude that sets all tongues agog. Every man, woman and child knows something that can be improved, and just how it can be done,-in short, knows how to conduct the institution.

Many people are liable to vex their righteous souls over the arrogant enterprise of normal schools. Among them are a few veteran pedagogues, of both sexes, who have taught for generations without knowing any thing, or ever wishing to. The idea of improvement in qualifications is not agreeable to them, and so they can not give the normal school their hearty support.

Others, again, oppose these schools on account of the expense of maintaining them; and on account of their supposed effect in increasing teachers' wages. They are strong in the faith that school-keeping is pecuniarily profitable, and

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that the profession of poverty usually made by educators is only a shrewd pretense.

Again, there are the philosophers, each and every one of whom has evolved, from his own thinking, the true ideal of a normal school; the grand characteristic of which ideal is that it is unlike any thing in present existence, and equally unlike the equally infallible ideal of every other philosopher. They tell you that the normal school in the United States has been a failure, signal and decided: a statement somewhat remarkable, certainly, in view of the astonishing multiplication of these institutions in this country during the last decade. But I assume that it is not made from malice, but from the necessities of their case. It seems to be the fundamental proposition in their syllogism. Like HUMPHREY's assumption of poverty, it must be granted as true, or they never can "get on."

In view of this liability to criticism, it becomes us to examine carefully our duties and dangers. And among the duties of a normal school I mention first, the duty of adapting itself to existing wants. This institution is not an end, but a means. For its own sake it never would have been established. It is supported, and the public funds are bestowed upon it, because there was found an evil which it was expected to remove. The normal school is not a machine which some genius has contrived, and for which room is wanted that it may exhibit its power and show its movements. But it is a very imperfect piece of apparatus, constructed in the very presence of the obstruction to be removed, - an apparatus which has been often tried, and the structure of which has been changed, from time to time, as defects became apparent. And only thus is it possible to contrive the machine. If there is any thing to which the inductive philosophy applies, it is the normal school. It is built up as the exigencies of time and place demand. It varies with different times and different localities. If there ever was a normal school worth sustaining, and one worthy the confidence of the citizens who supported it, one that nobly served its day and generation, the old institution at Bridgewater under the tuition of NICHOLAS TILLINGHAST was such a one. But an exact reproduction of it elsewhere would give us a poor thing. And my honored friend, the president of this section, would deserve little of the respect we feel for him, if, on the old historic spot itself, he could show nothing but an exact fac simile of the grand old school. Not space alone, but time as well, modifies the character of the true teachers' seminary. Like every other beneficent force, the normal school has been a growth. It did not come into being full-fledged and complete, like that belligerent dame on the Acropolis.

What, then, shall the true normal instructor do by way of preliminary work? Let him ascertain as well as he can the state of the schools for which he is expected to furnish teachers. Let him make a careful survey of their deficiencies. In the preparation of his teachers, let these points be kept clearly in view. Let them be fitted for the work they will be called upon to do. And there is another fitting besides this. It is a fitting of work to the needs of the students. What is the mental status of those who come to him for instruction? Do they read like unconverted Hottentots, and spell as if Mr. JOSHUA BILLINGS had made their dictionary? Then the first and main thing to do is

to bring them into some sort of conformity to common reputable English, as soon as may be. Some decent power over our noble language is of all things most necessary. To the teacher, a correct understanding and use of the ver nacular is all-important. Language is the implement with which he works. By its skillful use he clears up the difficulties of science and philosophy. By its inspiring magnetism he stirs his pupils to the performance of duty. By the conciseness and clearness of his own phraseology he impels them to habits of accurate thinking and elegant expression. And, if need be, by a right use of English in public assemblies he may commend to his fellow citizens the noble cause in which he labors. Thus, for all the purposes to which the teacher needs to turn his hand, the English language is the mightiest and most effective weapon within his reach.

And with this power it is the business of the normal school to endow, if possible, each and every one of those who go out from it. Its graduates must be able to "speak and write the English language correctly." For serious defect here, nothing can atone. A school that makes mathematicians and philosophers of its pupils has done little toward making them fit teachers for the young, if they dispense their wisdom in slovenly or ungrammatical English. And it is not in accordance with the fitness of things to hear the science of education, as we some times do hear it, delivered in a patois of barbarous pronunciation and false syntax. Then as between the higher branches, so called, and the lower, the question ought not to be which will look best on the cataloge, or be most creditable to the learning of the faculty, but which will be of most use to these young people as teachers. The normal schools are for the benefit of those schools for which they furnish instructors, and not for the benefit of their own teachers or pupils.

In view of these statements, does it not seem unwise to insist that the normal school shall give only professional instruction. Let us suppose such a school to be established in a part of the country where the state of education is low. Here are circumstances evidently demanding work. The teachers of the region are plying their vocation in unskillful ways, but worse than that, they have, by our supposition, little or nothing to teach. They possess no knowledge which they might impart. And of course the whole process is inefficient, a mere caricature of what education should be. Now what is the duty of our supposed normal school? Shall it enfold itself in its dignity, and say, when these imperfect teachers come to it for help, "It is my business to teach the art of teaching; let me not soil my hands with these minor matters of spelling and reading"? Shall it not rather do whatever its hands find to do? Shall it not take upon itself the high duty of doing whatever is necessary to advance the good cause? Is not the school at Hampton a normal school? Has it not grandly entitled itself to a place among the sisterhood? And how has this standing been earned? Not, I imagine, by teaching only the science of education, but by taking its untaught constituency just as they were, and doing for them just what they needed. A normal school is a school for fitting teachers by telling them, if necessary, what to teach, by showing them how to teach it, and by strengthening within them all the elements of a noble character. There are parts of the country where it must give instruction in the most elementary

branches, not as illustrations of modes of teaching only, but as matters of information to minds hitherto in the dark,-places there are where they must either do this, or be a mere figure-head, contributing nothing to the desired end. There are other localities in which it may do the most good by confining itself largely to the teaching of educational principles, and illustrating them by variety of practice.

Secondly, it is the duty of the normal school to emphasize the particular work which is in danger of being neglected. We are an ambitious people in this country. We covet the best gifts and the best possessions. We sigh for learning, for mental endowments, for extended attaiments. But when the genuine possession is difficult to secure, we some times satisfy ourselves with the name of it. And so the school catalogues are full of high-sounding names, -names apparently intended to include all studies of a rare, or profound, or a useless kind. In stead of a a reputation for thoroughnes in the mastery of useful knowledge, the schools seem to yearn for the fame of great profundity, of uncommon erudition. Now this perversion the normal school ought, as far as it may, to correct. No greater service can be rendered to the youth of our country than to teach them thoroughness in those attainments that are truly useful, —those forms of knowledge which contribute to our daily necessities and our daily happiness. Let the normal school, then, put on the homespun garb of the useful servant, rather than the flaunting regalia of the ball-room or the promenade. Let it lift the despised work of the elementary grades into its merited place of honor. Let it insist upon furnishing its pupils in the humble culture which, like God's rain and sunshine, ought to be enjoyed by all.

Again, it is the duty of the normal school to keep abreast of the improvements that are made in teaching and in the science thereof. We are living in times of constant change, and of great uncertainty. I know of nothing more unsatisfactory in some aspects than the science of education in these our days. There is just enough ascertained truth in it to serve as a basis for a vast amount of writing and speaking, of generalizing and classifying, that is unripe, and has nothing to recommend it but its volubleness and assurance. It is comparatively easy to talk or write upon education, because any one may borrow a few general principles of undoubted truth, and apply them in any vague and uncertain and whimsical way he may prefer. It would be preposterous to suppose that all which has been uttered in this country by way of illustrating the science of education contains nothing but good sense. In the first place, there is too much of it. The amount uttered exceeds the amount positively known. We have felt compelled to talk faster than we have been able to think, and, of course, some of the talk has been unsubstantial.

But we must not forget that this abundance of speech is an evidence of mental uneasiness. We know that something is wanting; we are convinced that on this subject of education ideas may be found,-deep-lying principles do exist. And, like many a stump-orator, we betake ourselves to talking, in the hope of some day coming to ideas. And the hope will not be disappointed. In the end we shall come to them, and all the sooner for our multifarious talk. The crude, ill-digested utterances will provoke rejoinders, or at least awaken thought, not complete, but in fragments. Every system of pedagogics has

something in it that is good. The fact that so many have spoken and written upon this subject insures the presentation of numerous facts and valuable suggestions. It is to be hoped that the time is coming when some one will be found able to eliminate from this mass of material whatever is of sterling worth, and to work it up into a consistent practical system. The duty of such a one will be largely the duty of sifting. Most of the material now on hand will go as chaff before the wind.

come.

But, in the mean time, every thorough and diligent student of the subject of education will carefully seize upon every new thought that comes before the public, and make it do practical duty in the common school and in the teachers' seminary. Who is there that does not need more light? What an array of new questions are coming upon us year by year! To-day the natural sciences are overwhelming us with their claims. They demand a share in the work of education much larger than has previously been assigned them. What shall be done with this claim? To allow it is to concede that our former systems are greatly defective, it is to necessitate a new adjustment of our plans and ideas. And this is by no means the end. Other phases of the same question are to What is to be the effect on our ideas of education, and especially upon our pattern for normal schools, of the unique and significant enterprise on Penikese Island? How will the grand personality of the eminent head of that school for teachers affect the general notion concerning the training most fit as a preparation for our business? What is to be the upshot of the Kindergartens? Is it not very clear that vast problems remain yet to be solved? Is there not much thinking yet to be done? If flippant dogmatism,—the assumption of a knowledge that needs no enlarging,― the proclaiming of systems that are perfect, the confident assertion of doctrines that are infallible,-if this is out of place any where, it is in a meeting of educators. What is needed is a careful, honest investigation and thought. And there is no time be lost. The work must be done day by day. Every opportunity must be improved.

Again, it is the duty of the normal school to form the characters of its pupils. For, after all, this is the great consideration. Character is the true product of culture. The great inquiry concerning a man who claims to be educated ought to be not so much what he knows as what he is. What faculties have been strengthened by thought and hardened into manly vigor? What emotions have by daily use been nursed into controlling power? What loves, what desires, what aspirations, have, little by little, grown to be the ruling principles in the man's mind? In short, what has he been made by his education and experience?

This is the true question in all teaching. But in normal-school work it becomes much more important than in any other, and that by reason of its very universality. If it is the chief business of the teacher to produce character, then he must be trained so as most effectually to do it. And what is the preparation required for this? With what shall the young teacher be furnished in order that he may be mighty in causing such a growth of mental and moral attributes as we desire to produce? Character is like any other crop. It grows from seed of the same kind with itself. The best help we can render a young teacher is to equip him with those attributes of soul that we should rejoice to