ct, as if the
destiny of the whole rising generation, depended upon its decision. Tell
him that all that is of any consequence in any handwriting, is, that it
should be legible, rapid, and uniform, and that, for the rest, it would
be better that every human being should write a different hand, and he
looks upon you with astonishment, wondering that you cannot see the
vital importance of the question, whether the vertex of an o should be
pointed or round. So in every thing. He has _his way_ in every minute
particular,--a way from which he cannot deviate, and to which he wishes
every one else to conform.

This set, formal mannerism is entirely inconsistent with that
commanding, intellectual influence, which the teacher should exert in
the administration of his school. He should work, with what an artist
calls boldness and freedom of touch. Activity and enterprise of mind
should characterize all his measures, if he wishes to make bold,
original, and efficient men.

(7.) Assume no false appearances, in your school, either as to knowledge
or character. Perhaps it may justly be said to be the common practice of
teachers in this country, to affect dignity of deportment in the
presence of their pupils, which, in other cases, is laid aside; and to
pretend to superiority in knowledge, and an infallibility of judgment,
which no sensible man would claim before other sensible men, but which
an absurd fashion seems to require of the teacher. It can however
scarcely be said to be a fashion, for the temptation is almost
exclusively confined to the young and the ignorant, who think they must
make up by appearance, what they want in reality. Very few of the older,
and more experienced, and successful instructers in our country, fall
into it at all. But some young beginner, whose knowledge is very
limited, and who, in manner and habits, has only just ceased to be a
boy, walks into his school-room with a countenance of forced gravity,
and with a dignified and solemn step, which is ludicrous even to
himself. I describe accurately, for I describe from recollection. This
unnatural, and forced, and ludicrous dignity, cleaves to him like
disease, through the whole period of his duty. In the presence of his
scholars, he is always under restraint,--assuming a stiff, and formal
dignity, which is as ridiculous as it is unnatural. He is also obliged
to resort to arts which are certainly not very honorable, to conceal his
ignorance.

A scholar, f