arithmetic, or the solution of problems, requires the knowledge and use of arithmetical language and signs, as well as the use of the reasoning powers. But as the reasoning powers are generally developed slowly, great care must be taken to adapt the problems to the degree of mental development. The degree of a pupil's mental development can be measured by his command of language, and by his knowledge of facts. The common custom of requiring young children to analyze intricate problems, or to originate problems before they have learned the language of numbers, is unnatural, unreasonable, and even stultifying to uncultured minds. Processes of logical analysis may be memorized, it is true, so that even very young children may be able to solve simple problems which resemble one another, and make their untrained hearers wonder, but their processes of solution are all memorized and are applicable to only one or two classes of problems, without securing any valuable discipline of the reasoning powers. Give such pupils a new problem, with different conditions, and they will fail until they memorize a new process. Pupils trained in this mechanical way will never be able to solve and analyze problems having new and complete conditions, without assistance. Such training fails to meet the approval of every philosophical and thoughtful teacher, yet these views are not generally recognized, either by teachers or authors of arithmetic. Very many young children are put to the work of solving, and even of making, problems before they have learned the language, or even the meaning of numbers. The absurdity and uselessness of this practice can be shown in the waste of time and numerous difficulties which are so common in the mastering of arith metic. We may just as reasonably require our pupils to study geography, history, etc., before they learn to read our language.

So far as the writer knows, "The Natural Arithmetic" is the first and only work which at the very beginning requires pupils to become familiar with the language of arithmetic. Every successful pupil in arithmetic must understand the meaning of arithmetical terms and signs used for whole numbers and fractions, and he must know all the tables, or how many units of one denomination make a unit of the next higher denomination. Southwestern Journal.

A Plea for Individual Work.

BY HARRIET H. HICKOX, OMAHA.

Every student of child nature and child culture finds in every primary room-even the best-certain conditions and certain results that are far from ideal. Every teacher is often bowed beneath the weight of perplexities, but at present no one is so heavily burdened as the primary

teacher. The last ten or fifteen years have thrown much light upon our work in theory, and while we gladly accept the knowledge of better things we are not yet free from the manners and customs of an older school which owed its existence to an altogether different idea and ideal. Thus the thinking, earnest teacher is continually striving to keep peace, as it were, between what her best judgment tells her she ought to accomplish and what, by virtue of necessity, she does accomplish.

We theorize of "freedom," of "harmonious growth," "education of the senses," "attention," "concentration," and "the responsibility of training immortal minds"; then we go to school, arrange our class in rigid lines, exact a semblance of attention, and proceed with fearful determination to do the term's work."

Will the first twenty-five or fifty pages of a first reader accomplish the harmonious three-fold development of the pupils in a school? It possibly might, but seldom does. You say " But there are many other things now that we do." Yes, and all other things are good, but they are secondary. A womanly and capable teacher left to the undisturbed control of a small number of children will develop them, whether she teaches them to read or not; because, between her and each little child there will be a bond of sympathy, of intimate acquaintanceship. They will follow her will. They will be upon a common plane. Then only, says Emerson, is teaching possible. The nurturing of the child in the first days of school should be almost entirely "individual" instead of, as it is often, wholly "class." The reason is apparent when we reflect that these little persons have received all previous instruction at the mother's kneelooking straight into her eyes-receiving her direct attention.

Were it not so common it would strike us as strange to mass these children together in large numbers to receive the far-off, much spread-out instruction of an ordinary school, and even hope that the minds would. continue to unfold. The teacher who can easily and happily lead out one child can doubtless lead more than one; but there is a limit, and this the old style school did not recognize. Rooms containing seventy children are now rare, but fifty five-year olds in one "class" are still far too comThe "class" and not the child is still the unit of the school-room, and while that is the case many bad things will continue to be.

mon.

The minds of little children can be led in common, and in one direction, but a few moments; then it should be our study to arrange to give time to one child. We have grown familiar with the motto, "An injury to one is the concern of all," and it is equally true that a gain to one is a benefit to all. The giving of one full minute, or three full minutes, to each child in the course of a day-centering main attention upon him— standing beside him, literally, perhaps, holding on to him, will accomplish more for concentration and for development than many half-hours of class recitation in these early days. Many a recitation that runs off as smoothly

as oiled machinery possesses no incentive to induce thought, except for three or four pupils-the leaders. Can you do as much of this work as you ought to with a school of fifty pupils? No. One may do a great deal with thirty pupils, and fair work up to forty, and something may still be accomplished in this direction with fifty. But the teacher of the "babies" who does not feel each addition above thirty pupils, has more ability as a military commander than as an educator.

For the best work we could give these children we have no appliances. A teacher tells me: "The principal wished me to give form lessons, and gave me a sphere, cube and cylinder, and a bunch of assorted sticks.' Surely the principal had provided an ample basis for form lessons. There are the three typical solids, sticks to show all lines and angles, and to outline all surface forms. But the pupils are not very much interestedthe knowledge, developed or imparted, does not seem to be a part of their real possessions. The teacher may suggest that if each child had a set of forms and a bunch of sticks better work could be done. Most principals will ask if it does not do as well for the teacher to hold them before the class while they all see them.

Does the sight of a meal do for the taste of it? Or the smell of the rose for the sight? Nothing, with a child, takes the place of touching, handling, an object of interest. It is so with primitive races. Our satisfaction at seeing only means that we have satisfied the sense of touch in this instance at some previous time. If we wish a child to become thoroughly acquainted with an object we should provide him the means to exercise all his senses upon it, so he may discover all the properties possible, unaided; then the rest will help. That these appliances cannot be procured save at private expense is only another proof of the sway of the old ideal in the primary room. Not only the manners, customs and appliances (or the lack of them) show this, but, in a measure, the same results are expected. And we are weekly striving to fit in with these, methods in accordance with the idea of the "harmonious development of the individual." How? It is a large question. It has but one solution, and yet we have not "come up" to that. We must now be content with striving to save these little people in our charge from the stifling, stupefying effects that result from subjecting the miniature, undeveloped baby minds to second-grade methods. To do what we can we must do many things, and have for our motto, "the child," not "the class." We must be brave, wise, cautious and very persistent.

Extend the belief that thirty-five is a very large school. That play, both free and directed, is a great educative force. That it is often a good thing to work with one child, or three or five, apart from the rest of the children. Can we manage so that at the end of the week we know, not what the "A" class or "B" class can do, but what Nellie and Ben and

Mary and John can do. Let us discard machine methods and devices and in general select that which calls the powers of each child into action.

Then, possessing our souls in patience, rejoice not only that the world moves, but that it goes rapidly onward, and await the day when we, as first teachers of the young, will not be called upon to lay the foundation and erect the superstructure at one and the same time. -Iowa Normal Monthly.

The Busy-Work Problem.

RHODA LEE.

An unprofessional reader on noting the above headline would, in all probability, criticise the tautology of so useful an adjective, but to those interested or engaged in primary teaching, the term " Busy-work" is full of meaning, signifying employment at the seats as totally distinct from class recitation.

The words, however, indicate what is to some teachers its chief value, namely, keeping the children from falling into disorder by insisting on the hands being steadily employed. If the work given to a class succeeds in preserving a certain quietness in the room, the teacher is abundantly satisfied, the work being assigned, perhaps on the spur of the moment as the scholars file to their seats, without any thought as to its interest or usefulness, and without any intention of either examining or correcting it. This is a great misconception of busy-work. It should certainly accomplish more than this.

Busy-work should have as an object the cultivation of right habits of work, of doing work neatly, cheerfully and in the best way possible.

The work should be useful--that is, it should either add to the child's knowledge or increase his power. There is scope for a great amount of bad work in this seemingly unimportant part of school work. Employment is given without any thought as to its object, and mistakes, trifling in themselves, are allowed to be repeated over and over again until an impression is made that can scarcely be eradicated with the best of teaching. To prevent this it is absolutely necessary to examine the slates every time work is done.

More than once I have heard earnest and thoughtful teachers say something to this effect to a scholar who had been most diligently employed in filling his slate with previously assigned work: "Have you filled your slate, Harry? Well, rub it off and fill it again with numbers." Poor Harry devotes considerable energy to scrubbing his slate, and then starts his figures at once; but, alas! when he gets to one hundred and nine he

writes as the next number a large two hundred, and so continues, in blissful ignorance of any mistake, to "fill his slate." Perhaps this error is repeated for two or three days before it is discovered by his teacher, and then she finds considerable difficulty in disabusing his mind of this blunder. The want of time is the reason given for neglecting to examine slates, but I would strongly urge you to take time. Shorten the lesson you are giving at the board, and correct the work done by the scholars at their seats.

It is necessary while you are engaged with one class that the other should be busily employed; it is necessary that they should do the right kind of work, and it is still more necessary that this work should be done in the right way. And how much better your scholars will work after an approving nod or a word of praise as encouragement.-Educational Journal.

The Country School.

BY SUPERINTENDENT H. S. JONES, LINCOLN, NEB.

There is a general feeling among teachers, parents, and pupils that the country school, even when taught by a good teacher, is a place of meagre educational results. The teacher longs to get into the town or the city in order that "better work" may be done. The same feeling influences fathers, mothers, and their children, as much as to say there is no such thing as education in the country.

It is quite near the truth to say that the educational benefits of the country schools outweigh those of the town.

No teacher of a rural school has good reason to think that his efforts can but be weak because he has not the "modern appliances" and opportunities of doing "grade work" common to towns and cities. It may not be known to many country teachers that the great question with the progressive city school superintendent is how to manage the graded school so as to get into its movement as much as possible of the elasticity and individuality of the rural ungraded school. It is hardly exaggeration to say that in many cases the ironclad graded school has done more harm than good, for the reason that the sort of inquiry that makes strong men and women, that which comes from within, is suppressed. The teacher being ever at the front, bristling with questions, smothers and kills that personality which develops thinkers and doers.

In the country school the teacher is obliged to let his pupils "go it alone" a great part of the time. Milk-and-water explanations can have no place on the programme. A hint must serve as a lecture.

In addition, the country school is not isolated educationally. Right