HEARING LESSONS NOT TEACHING.

MORE TRUTH THAN FICTION.-One of our exchanges says: "The system of merely hearing lessons, which have been learned at home, recited in public schools, is a cunning fraud of the teachers, falsely so called. These teachers teach nothing. They sit magisterially enthroned in their school chairs to decide daily, whether the parents have done their-the teachers'-work at home, and to punish or reward the scholars for the parent's ability or ignorance. When we pay taxes for our public schools, or enormous fees for our private ones, we want tutors, not magistrates for our money, we want the men and women employed in schools to do something more than sit up in state and ask questions-we want them to teach our children something they did not know, and not send them home to be taught, that they, the teachers, may diurnally go through the farce of hearing them recite what parents have taught them, and they knew already."

The above may all be true, and yet there is quite as much danger of teachers doing too much as too little. Some teachers talk so much,-explain so much, that they actually become thought-killers. They do the reciting themselves, while their pupils look on with pleased wonder, or apathetic indifference. These talkers are our most popular teachers, because the most showy. In the presence of visitors, they are learned, eloquent, profound, impressing superficial observers with the notion that they have witnessed something decidedly uncommon. On the other hand, he who sits quietly by, allowing his pupils to do their own recitations, is apt to be voted slow, and grave doubts are even entertained of his ability to teach in the branches upon which he professes to give instruction.

Our own experience has been, that where we found one talking too little, we have found five talking too much. The teacher is continually tempted by a desire to get on with the recitation, or from good nature, to help the hesitating pupil over the sticking points, by a word thrown in, or a side question, or by an ejaculation. By such aid a scholar,

in no way prepared in his lesson, may be made to appear to go through a pretty respectable recitation, and at the same time having learned nothing by it, that is worth knowing, or that he can remember for a single day. With such teachers, pupils never have their mental muscle developed. They never experience the pleasurable feeling arising from having had a grand wrestling with a tough problem and flooring it.

When a pupil has a well-prepared lesson, it is one of the greatest pleasures of his school life, to have an opportunity to recite it; and nothing can be a greater bore to him, than to be obliged to stand by, while his teacher shows off, or dilates in explanation of a point already perfectly understood.

In general, we look upon it as a favorable sign when we' hear pupils complain of their teacher, "he won't explain." We conclude that he is a man of firmness, and intends that they shall do their own work. We do not mean to intimate that no explanation should be given;-teachers will find it necessary in almost every lesson; but we protest against that lecturing system that is becoming so fashionable, and is so much lauded, by which it is expected children shall become educated with scarcely any active effort on their part, being merely the passive vessels into which the multifarious contents of the teacher's knowledge-box is poured.

Judicious explanation and illustration, given in few words, and directly to the point, is a different affair, from that cacoethes loquendi that is so prevalent in our profession, and which has such charms for doting parents and lazy scholars. Journal of Progress.

BY PRECEPT AND EXAMPLE TOO. ·

"It's nobody's business where or how a teacher spends his time out of school." So remarked a member of a school committee, in my hearing, not long since.

Many teachers evidently think likewise, if their doings out of school are any criterion by which we may judge.

It is not enough that the teacher be faithful in imparting

instructions during the regular school hours; nor is it sufficient that he exhort his pupils in season and out of season, to avoid bad habits, or that he "preach" to them concerning the importance of good manners. A loose example, or an instance of moral obliquity on his part, will render much sage counsel of little effect for good. However just the maxim"The wise man considers the advice, not the source of it," we are not apt to do so; neither are children.

With what consistency can a teacher charge his pupils to refrain from those vices in which he habitually indulges? Some years ago, I knew a gentleman who had an impediment in his speech. At length his little son, either from sympathy or by imitation, began to stammer also. The father expostulated in vain, and, as a last resort, he had recourse to the birch.

After applying it awhile vigorously, he paused for breath, when Billy looked up reproachfully—" Fif―fif-father, I say it's too bub-bub-bad to l—lick me for what you did―do yourself."

Some doubtless look upon manners and morals as being of minor importance; still, many whose opinions are entitled to respect, do not deem a teacher who whistles "Jordan am a hard road to trabbel," through the streets on Sunday, a proper instructor for their children. "You apparently enjoy the privileges of a good school," I remarked to a parent. “Y—e—s sir, I suppose the scholars are doing well enough in their studies; but before Lucy went to school she used to say Please ma'am,' Yes sir,' and 'No sir,' but now it's nothing but what,' 'yes,' and no.''

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It is in vain that teachers close their eyes to their own inconsistencies, and flatter themselves that others do not see them. Children will observe, and they readily draw inferences from what they see. As an apt illustration of this point, I select the following:

"I met," says a gentleman, "one of our scholars—a ragged little fellow, with a pipe in his mouth, smoking. I stopped, and began to talk to him about the filthy and foolish habit he was getting into. He instantly turned upon me and said: "

"Why, some of the teachers smoke!" "I should think not," I answered. think they do?"

"What makes you

"Because I seed one of 'em "—at the same time describing him-" one day, go into a cigar store an' buy a cigar."

"But very likely you were mistaken; for the other day I myself was in a public house on business, and when I came out there stood a little way off two of our boys who, if they saw me, would perhaps think I had been drinking, but I had not; and I had a great mind to go and tell them so, for fear they might get a bad example from me."

"O! no, I was n't mistaken," answered the boy, with an arch and confident look, "for I stood an' watched 'im, and seed him come out with it lighted, in his mouth; and I think he seed me too, for he turned his head t'other way, and looked kind o' shyish like."-N. Y. Teacher.

For the Common School Journal.

SOWING IN TEARS.

The day was fading. In the western sky
Were floating lustrous clouds. A summer breeze
Was toying with the flowers, that all day long
Had sent their fragrance forth upon its wings.
The broad, green branches of the forest-trees,
Whispered their evening hymn of praise to God.
Far to the east, the sombre shades of night
Were stealing upward from their resting-place,
Veiling the distant hills with mystic charms.
The wondrous hues that lingered in the west,
Blended in beauty with the darker tints
That hovered in the zenith.

Such an hour,

When the loud clamor of the busy world,
And the jar of contending elements,
Come not to the tired ear or weary soul,

Is consecrate to holy thoughts and prayer.
The burdened heart may pour its griefs and woes,

Its penitence, and earnest pleas for aid,

Into the Saviour's gracious, listening ear,

And He will give it strength. Oh, blessed truth!—
That we who toil along life's thorny way,

Can feel "Our Father's" love, our Father's smile.

A teacher sat within her room. A shade

Of sadness rested on her brow.

Her thoughts

Were busy with the Past. She wept as she
Remembered how often all her efforts

Were seemingly in vain, and how the seed

Which she had sown with prayer within young hearts,
And watered with her tears, had borne no fruit.
The field which she had tilled with so much care,
Seemed very barren yet. No golden sheaves

Made glad her heart. The minds which she had strove
To fill with noble thoughts and high resolves,
Seemed still unchanged. She felt that she had tried
To toil with zeal, and hope, and faith in God,-
To train aright the tender mind of youth,
And guide the infant feet in holy paths.
But all seemed dark. If she had toiled aright,
Where were the tokens of her faithfulness?

Her heart grew very sad, and bitter thoughts
Came thronging up, as she reviewed the past,
And found no harvests there. With chastened mien
She breathed an earnest prayer to God for help,—
For faith, for holy zeal and glowing love,-
And as she prayed, light broke upon her soul,
And all was peace.

She read those wondrous words,
That God hath spoken to mankind, and felt

Their power;-how He hath promised to all those

Who sow good seed, and water with their tears, That they shall doubtless come, laden with sheaves, "Rejoicing with exceeding joy."

. And then

She thought of other precious promises

To those who toil with faith, and hope, and love,-
That "in due season they shall reap rewards,
If they faint not."