ITS NATURAL AND ACQUIRED CHARACTER-THE OBLIGATIONS IMPOSED UPON US.

(Continued from the November Number.)

THE teacher should possess mature judgment, a knowledge of human nature, and especially a knowledge of the nature and demands of the intellect. The principal mission of science is the development of intellect; the educator, therefore, must not only know the intellect, but he should be familiar with science in its various branches, that he may know how to deal it out as intellectual food. That one who merely knows the letters is sufficiently educated to teach them, needs no confutation; it is extreme folly.

The greatest of all demands upon the educator is self-control. The passionate man can scarcely drive an ox, or hold a plow; but nowhere else does passion do as much evil as in the school. But, how great a work is this! Many have fought; but few have won.

"He that is slow

to anger is better than the mighty, and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city." It has become a motto, that he who would rule others must first rule himself.

The next great labor is the government of others. Pupils, from near the cradle to the age of manhood, must be governed. Government in school is as necessary as air and light. It is a principle in nature that wherever there is action there must be control; and control must be the result of fixed law, or educated reason. Youth is peculiarly full of action ungarded, since reason in the human mind develops slowly. The

power which impels youth is passion, which is as sure to drive man upon shoals and rocks, as the unstable wind a ship at sea; and, as much as the ship needs a helmsman, so much needs youth a governor. No more inclined is the ship to follow the impulse of the wind, than youth the impulse of passion; nor is wind more unreasonable than passion. "A child left to himself bringeth his mother to shame;" and a school left to itself is a bedlam. The educated, enlightened reason of parents and teachers must always be present to guide the otherwise erring feet of children.

Government, when applied to the elements or brutes, and often to men, means merely control; but should be very differently understoood when applied to youth at the home fireside, or in the schoolroom. Those who govern youth should ever have in view the welfare of the man, and the great and important end of his existence. A child that has been merely controlled, must be controlled still; but the child that is governed will learn to govern himself. The child that has ever been borne in the arms, must be carried still; but the child that is led will soon learn to walk. The first great point in real government is to obtain he will of the governed, or, in other words, the consent of the will. The want of it in the family will bring gray hairs and sorrow, confusion and shame, in the schoolroom it will create a dogged resistance to rule, and cnltivate hatred, malice, and deceit, and will, in time, most surely overthrow the teacher's authority; and, more than all, cultivates in the heart a spirit of rebellion, and leaves the man with a fund of knowledge to be used as an engine of mischief.

It is hard, very hard, to obtain the consent of the child's will against the demands of his keen appetites, but, for a time, comparatively easy to compel him to yield. There are a thousand ways of securing apparent outward obedience, mere submission; and with this many are satisfied. He who labors for wages seeks nothing more. Many of our cotemporaries secure order, as it were, in perfection, and exhibit as thorough drill as is seen in a standing army, while there is, at the same time, as little moral growth in the heart of the pupil as in the heart of the soldier of the camp. The cold, haughty look, the face of steel, the iron arm, the scathing, biting, bitter sentence, cause pupils to crouch and cower like timid girls in a thunder storm, and by forbidding, frigid, overbearing manners, through awe, drive out every ray of natural affection, and noble, independent manliness. Such are usually led merely by ambitious motives, and, supposing the public generally look at educational interests through the blind eye, regard themselves as undiscovered in the shallowness of their labors. They labor to win, regard themselves as Alexanders, believe they

possess the only recipe to ensure success in pedagogy, which, however, they do not mean to reveal until the day of their death.

In such schools, time shows that while there is exhibited the farce of beauty, yet within there is growing a stubborn heart, full of hatred and deceit; and that, although its impulses are covered, they are not dead, and will, in time, like covered fires or sleeping volcanoes, break forth into vigorous action.

The history of our higher institutions shows conclusively that their government has failed to reach the will and win the heart. The smothered, ungoverned spirit breaks forth in fiendish, wolfish midnight powwows, plays tricks upon dignitaries in a thousand ways, acts like a wild drunken spirit, and shelters itself through secret combinations. The old style of institutions, where government is a mere iron fisted tyrant, without heart or soul, and where moral instruction and prayer are dealt out by machinery, are not worshiped as formerly, and unless they wake up with the waking world they may sleep till the world sleeps again.

We are likely to be cheated out of every thing that is dear to us, and be ourselves eaten up by educated villainy. Skillful, selfish, greedy men scramble and struggle for every high place and good thing that comes under their view, as reckless of justice as greedy, filthy harpies, or hungry, ruthless bears. These wars and these floods of passion make men think, and sober thought tells men not to pay so dear for so poor a thing. Reflection tells the world that science, a white head, and a black heart make an old villain. Knowledge is as much an engine of good or evil as the sword. If the sword be in the hand of justice, and knowledge in the hand of wisdom, peace will be like a river and prosperity like a flood. But, that wisdom be the handmaid of knowledge, they must be cultivated together, and grow as twin sisters, and be cherished by the same tender hand. Knowledge is a much more hardy plant than wisdom. Knowledge springs from every action; wisdom from a part and folly from a part. Wisdom grows only in its own peculiar scil, and can no more be cultivated in youth without real government than wild animals can be tamed without first caging them; there is no real government that does not reach the will. Governments that secure not the hearts of the people, crumble; the king that is not beloved must be guarded by a band of armed men. It is illwill that drives princes from their thrones, throws crowns to the dust, overturns kingdoms, and throws the world into tumult and anarchy. has at last become a motto of the free that the government must obtain the consent of the governed.

It

But what a task we thus throw upon the educator. He must forget himself in the love of humanity, must sacrifice present ease and comfort for the future welfare of others, he must secure over the pupil a greater

influence than is exercised by the pupil's own passions and appetites. None but those who have had experience in the government of children can comprehend their countless inventions to secure the end of their desires, and to avoid mental and physical labor. Every manner of deceit is practiced to show the appearance of study, and every possible device is employed to make their lives miserable. They will communicate when they acknowledge it gives them no pleasure, laugh without reason, make disagreeable noises with their feet, hands, papers, and books, and at the same time confess it gives no pleasure, and would really cost nothing on their part to avoid it. Many children watch the teacher for hours, days, and terms, make their lips move as if studying, slyly steal recitations from books, and generally spend their school days with just as little labor as will possibly pass, while their only real study is spent in discovering means to avoid study. Now, if we mistake not, the mass of teachers labor to check these evil ways, and never really remove them. And so with parents at home; they quarrel with the same little faults for months and years, and quarrel still, because they do not labor to eradicate, but merely to hold in check; and all on the principle that it is easier for one day, or for the present, to check than to cure. The school that is merely held in check by the presence of the teacher is not governed. The teacher must at first control, and his presence secure right action, but his labor must soon bring it from another source; it must be brought from within the pupil, else, in point of morality and real manliness, the teacher sends the pupil into the world worse than he finds him. Communications, disagreeable noises, lying, and ill manners of all kinds may be almost, if not completely educated from a schoolroom, but they can never be driven out; and let every teacher know, once for all, that if by his own force he merely drives evil back, and forces submission, he is like one who dams a river which will continue to rise till it finally breaks forth, and all its accumulated force will spread terror and destruction.

We cannot govern or guide a machine whose action we do not understand; no more can teachers govern children without comprehending their natures. In the infant the will and appetites very soon appear in their full strength; and, indeed, nearly if not all animal passions, but they are entirely without the guide of reason, and many long years must roll around before this distinguishing and most noble element of man's nature appears in full strength. Its dawn may be early, but its growth is exceedingly slow. Many appeal to children as if they really stand in the light of reason, and wonder that they do not act more for future good, but let not mothers or teachers lose their patience and their own reason by endeavoring to guide children by what they do not possess. The reason

of parents and teachers must guide youth until their own is sufficiently developed to be employed. From the very first dawn of reason it should be appealed to, but not fully trusted; and as it develops in the youthful mind it should be more and more exercised, while the restraint of the governor should be less and less exerted. As the nurse of the infant body teaches the act of walking, so should the nurse of the mind and soul instruct in the duty of self-reliance, self-guidance, and in general self government. None but the good should be employed in teaching, none but the humane, lovers of humanity, the purely unselfish, the truly enlightened and intelligent. The humane soul is fitted for much good or much evil, much joy or sorrow. The soul is of too much value to be spoiled by the passionate, the selfish, ond the ignorant. If the world could see itself and its own interest without thought of cost or labor, all lands would be searched for the governors and instructors of youth, The teacher of youth holds in his hands immortal jewels, and the loss of one is an infinite loss, while the gain of one is an infinite gain; he holds in his hands the peace of the family and fireside, the welfare of society, the strength of states, the elevation of nations, and the perpetuity of freedom and good will among men, and, more than all, the destiny of souls in eternity.

After the teacher has mastered himself and science, and performed his duty in the government of youth, we demand still another most disagreeable task; the teacher may, indeed, look upon all other parts of his labor with joy. We refer to our connection with parents, guardians, and property-holders, and the necessity of pleasing all, inasmuch as they are the rulers and supporters of schools. It would truly be an easier task to please all, did all know with what they would be pleased. Few men claim to be judges of horses, few of watches, few indeed of law, but all that possess the human form claim to be judges of schools. All have been there, have seen them, many have taught, so that all, without distinction, men, women, and children, consider themselves bound to pass judgment. So are all judges of the merits of books. The little boy that cannot define addition, or name a relative pronoun, feels himself a competent judge, thinks Adams' arithmetic better than Davies', and that Smith's is the best grammar, because he can understand it. The teacher's opinion is of no account, (which, however, is too often true). Three Irishmen, late from Erin, discovered a red squirrel, and being much delighted with his spright. liness, gave their opinions of his name. One was sure it was a hummingbird, another thought it was a wild turkey, while the last, still more sure, said he believed it was an alligator. So people, as poorly qualified to judge of schools, as readily pass judgment. The poorest school generally has its full number of supporters, and often the best its full amount of opposition. Real merit weighs nothing, and very few teachers can ever