Training School (D. C. Heath, 1887); Reports of Industrial Education Association, 21 University Place, New York.

THE METHOD OF THE RECITATION.

F. M. MCMURRY, TEACHERS' COLLEGE, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY, NEW YORK.

CHAPTER VII TO PAGE 163.

It should be kept in mind that even those teachers who heartily believe in the worth of an aim in the recitation, for the guidance of pupils, very often get little value from it. After securing a statement of it, they very frequently proceed on their way, rejoicing in the consciousness that they have performed a duty, although the aim itself is speedily forgotten and quite likely not again mentioned. To be of value, however, it must be taken more seriously than that, it must be a real aim, which is continually held before the mind as a worthy object of effort. And the final question to be answered is, has this aim been accomplished?

There is a good excuse for such final work, for it is by no means easy to put a purpose before a class that appeals to them with force. Aside from the knowledge of child nature that it involves, a rather deep grasp of the subject-matter is also needed. A good aim presupposes a control of the whole field on the part of the teacher, and his ability to recognize its salient features-which is not an easy task by any means. It is very common for all ages of persons to know all the little facts in a lesson, or a given number of pages, without reaching the main large thought involved-the latter step requires reflection, insight of a higher order; and hence, there is no wonder that it is often omitted.

But this whole matter is far more serious, I believe, than is even indicated in the text under discussion. In this text the aim is urged as important for supplying motive for the attention of children in class; but it is well to consider whether aims of a similar nature are not necessary as a guide to all study, whether

that study be attempted by children or adults. If it is proper for children to have a definite object to guide them in their selection of ideas that occur to them in class, and to stimulate their attention, why is it not proper to urge the same need in all study?

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Many great men have taken pains to formulate their thoughts bearing on the theme of some important book, as a guide to them in reading the book. They have set up the problems that they expect to find answered, or the answers that they have already reached independently, and then they have read with such thoughts in mind, to see to what extent the author meets their expectations. Thus they are kept alert throughout their reading and are made selective in regard to the many statements offered. Webster did much of his studying in this way, as did also Gibbon and Lord Strafford. Noah Porter, in his book on Books and Reading, declares, "In reading we do well to propose to ourselves definite ends and aims. The distinct consciousness of some object at present before us imparts a manifold interest to the contents of any volume. It imparts to the reader an appropriative power, a force of affinity, by which he insensibly and unconsciously attracts to himself all that has a near or even a remote relation to the end for which he reads. Any one is conscious of this who reads a story with the purpose of repeating it to an absent friend; or an essay or a report, with the design of using the facts or arguments in a debate; or a poem, with the design of reviewing its imagery and reciting its finest passages. Indeed, one never learns to read effectively until he learns to read in such a spirit." The opposing method of reading is to read merely "for the sake of knowing," in the search "of truth for truth's sake." This is aimless, to be sure, but it is probably the way in which most adults read or study. Yet, if these statements of Noah Porter are correct, that method is badfor the same reason that a recitation with 6-year-old children is bad without an aim. That a principle of method that is presented in the text with special ref

erence to elementary teaching, may become a principle for all ages and conditions of men. It is at least worth considering whether adults are not, as a rule, far too aimless, and, hence, non-selective in their reading. The ordinary plan is to collect knowledge somewhat indiscriminately, with the hope that somehow, somewhere, sometime, it may prove its value. But modern education is opposing that tendency more and more. In fine art it is well in school instruction to find a room that needs decoration, and then set to work to decorate it properly. In that case a problem, a definite aim, precedes and guides later work. That seems utilitarian, but modern education is growing more utilitarian in just that way. If it is right in this tendency, a vast amount of subject-matter that has heretofore been taught without much relation to present life, and, therefore, without clear purpose, is sure to be discarded; and the requirement that each recitation be controlled by a well selected aim will be recognized as an application of a truth that. is sound for all conditions.

One other thought touching the aim is in place here, i. e., the question, who should select and state the aim? If the teacher assumes this responsibility constantly, how is she teaching the pupils to do such work independently? Yet, if aims are necessary in class, for the mastery of subject-matter, they are for the same reason necessary in private study. Consequently, it is important for the teacher, after accustoming children to feeling the need of a guiding purpose of some sort, to lead them to attempt to find it, to word it even, themselves. Only by thus encouraging them to take the initiative are they likely to acquire the independence necessary for the most successful individual study. A movement in this direction, with increasing success as the grades advance, should be apparent in grade work. The result should be an established habit, on the part of the young people, of finding worthy objects to work for.

I once had an advanced class in education that hesitated for some time before answering the question, Should instruc

tion aim at really vivid pictures, or images, of the situations presented? Every teacher should answer this question for himself before attempting much instruction. If pupils are to imagine vividly, it means that they might often become excited when they study history, and highly pleased when reading descriptions of scenery in geography. They should see and feel the situation as though it was present before their eyes. But that state is so seldom reached outside of literature that it requires some boldness to accept it. as a standard of excellence. It is far easier to require pupils to understand and memorize the substance of the thought and stop at that point, whether they truly appreciate what they are talking about or not.

The answer to this question will determine a teacher's attitude toward details. For a believer in vivid picturing must favor a good deal of detail-like the novelist while one who disbelieves in such imagining is likely to reject much detail. The former will value fat books, or books that are thick enough to enter into various sorts of incidents that explain and make interesting, while the latter will prefer thin books containing mere outlines or skeletons of fact. It should be kept in mind, however, that not all opposition to detail is wrong. Much of the detail usually taught in geography, including location of minor places, exactness of boundaries, length of rivers, etc., is a nuisance-it is not worthy of attention. It is only that detail that is necessary to build out and make strong some important thought or fact that counts. Isolated little facts can better be omitted from the start, for they cause a mere waste of time. In general, the details. should be carefully selected, and there should be enough of them to cause one really to live the scene described.

One's attitude toward vivid picturing will also greatly influence his attitude toward developing instruction, for the very aim of the latter is to make a topic alive

to the child.

Other names for this method of teaching are "the discussion method," or "the conversational method." It is merely an

attempt to escape from the formality or stiffness of the ordinary recitation, and to cause a topic to be so tossed about that its different sides will be revealed and the participation of each pupil in the tossing process will help him to share more fully in its spirit. Probably not one teacher in fifty in the United States attempts instruction of this kind, because it is too difficult. This method requires that the teacher be in a position to talk about the topic presented, and relatively few teachers can do that-they can only "recite" the facts and drill others in reciting them. But the teacher who is not ambitious to follow an approximation of this method, at least, would better leave teaching for business, or matrimony, early, before doing a lot of harm as an instructor; for a dead teacher rapidly takes the life out of children.

Much

The key to success in developing instructors is the art of putting questions, more than any other one factor. has been written on this topic, and most of it is pretty dry. But I venture to suggest that good questions must be more than "short" or "simple" or "easily understood" or "pointed." I have found that a good question-in most studies, at any rate is one that involves emotion, feeling. Many a young person has been driven out of Sunday school by the cold fact questions asked by the teacher, such as, "What is today's lesson about? How many places are mentioned in the lesson? What men are named?" etc. The weakness of such questions is that they are not even expected to stir up any warmth of feeling they require interest, although the teacher's supposed aim is to excite interest.

One of the best questions in the industry of lumbering that occurs to me is this: "Why should the felling of a tree occasion any feeling of sadness?" Others that I should want to put, in teaching this subject, are, "What are the most exciting parts of a lumberman's experience?"

"Give me the biography of a board." Each of these questions goes under the surface to some extent, and calis up thoughts that stimulate. It is very easy to ask, "What is the first thing that a lumberman must do? The next?" etc. But he must get away from a mere presentation of cold facts, as so much knowledge, if he wishes to teach successfully. A good story-teller never lists, in a coldblooded way, what he desires to tell. On the contrary, he plans from the start to appeal to interest, and every good teacher is practically a good story-teller, when the facts are presented in narrative form, or by questions. If feeling is appealed to in a narrative, it must likewise be appealed to in the question. It would be a good exercise for any group of teachers to word the best questions they can conceive touching some topic of common interest, and then see how many of them are only cold, matter-of-fact queries that tend more to chill than to enliven. Practice in such exercise, with comparison of results in a group of teachers can be one of the very best preparations for the questioning necessary in most kinds of good instruction.

It should be remembered, as a final suggestion, that though questioning is a very difficult art, children in the elementary school should be growing in this ability, as well as the teacher. The reason that a good teacher puts questions at all is that a fair assimilation of facts may be brought about. If pupils are to digest knowledge in private study, as well as in class, they will find questions just as necessary there as elsewhere. And since the teacher can not be present to formulate them, the pupil must do it himself. Otherwise, good study is scarcely possible. It is, therefore, important that the teacher now and then allow the children themselves to put the question, and thus get practice directly, preparatory to independent study.

NATURE STUDY.

Nature study that does not lead the child into seeing what a wonderful, beautiful and habitable place this world is has missed the fundamental principle.

Many primary teachers teach as if the children were never to have another day of schooling.

They begin their nature work, and in their zeal to do it well the children are introduced to every department of science, and when they are passed on to the next teacher nothing is new under the

sun.

The work that is valuable is that which is directed by the teacher, but which is discovered by the pupil.

In teaching the simple fact that most of our shade trees drop their leaves in the fall, all that is said on the subject is that this very thing does happen; but a wise teacher will attract the attention of the school to the fact that there is a change coming over all nature, and will let the children make note of the different changes.

Daily reports will be made until some glad day the school will have the report to make to the teacher, that the leaves. have fallen.

The same thing is true of the birds. Some teachers can not resist the temptation of telling the secret, that the birds are going to fly away. They should have more respect for the child's finer feelings, but this simple secret of nature, which the children could discover for themselves, and which they ought to have the joy of discovering, is denied them because these secrets are the teacher's "stock in trade."

The one thing that makes the "great leak" in the nature study of the common schools is that the teachers have not the skill of leading the children to to nature's secrets and getting them first hand.

Huxley said, "Knowledge gained at second hand, by hearsay, or from books, is infinitely inferior to knowledge developed at first hand by actual experience and direct contact with the phenomena of nature."

In the State Course of Study we are told, "If the problem is in the field, go there." This course has been outlined in a general way, and the teachers have a general topic for each month's work.

This saves much of the teacher's time, and in her weekly and daily program she is allowed all freedom of developing the subject and giving it her personal touch.

In continuing the study of leaves from September, an interesting discovery may be made by the children in learning the position of the leaves of some plants at night. The locust, for example, which at night lets its leaves, that have been facing each other all day, fold their backs together; and the thorn, also, is quite different at night from the way it looks in the day.

The clover and sheep sorrel are more common and easier for the children to find and observe.

In taking up the fourth problem in the State Course of Study, the teacher could reinforce her work by beginning the study of the birds.

The report is made that a very large per cent. of the apples of Indiana are imperfect, containing worms. In the study of what the chestnut weevil, and grub, also the codling moth are doing in October, the pupils should be taught what can be done to decrease the damage. done by them. The question might be solved, to an extent, if a study was made of the birds which seek the orchard and garden for their homes; the pupils thus early beginning their plans for attracting, protecting and encouraging these helpful friends to nest in their neighborhood.