has not been the only evil that has attended a misapplication
of the gallery; for the teachers, for want of knowing
the system properly, have been at a loss how to occupy
the time of the children, and scores of teachers have
ruined their own constitutions, and also the constitutions
of some of the children, by the perpetual talking
and singing, which, I am sorry to say, too many consider
to be the sum total of the system: and I may
state here, that the children should never be more
than one hour at a time, or, at most two hours, during
the day, in the gallery. All beyond this is injurious
to the teacher, and doubly so to the little pupils.
The forenoon is always the best time for gallery lessons;
the teacher’s mind is more clear, and the minds
of the children are more receptive. After the
children have taken their dinner they should be entertained
with the object lessons, a small portion of spelling
and reading, and the rest of the afternoon should
be devoted to moral and physical teaching in the play-ground,
if the weather will at all permit it. The more
you rob your children of their physical education
to shew off their intellectual acquirements, the more
injury you do their health and your own; and in the
effort to do too much, you violate the laws of nature,
defeat your own object, and make the school a hot-bed
of precocity, instead of a rational infants’
school for the training and educating infants.
I have been blamed, by writers on the infant system,
for that which I never did, and never recommended;
I have been made answerable for the errors and mis-conceptions
of others, who have not troubled themselves to read
my writings; and, in their anxiety to produce something
new and original, have strayed from the very essential
parts of the plan, and on this account I am charged
by several writers with being unacquainted with the
philosophy of my own system. I thought three-and-thirty
years ago that if I could arrest public attention
to the subject, it was as much as could be expected.
I knew very well at that time that a dry philosophical
detail would neither be received or read. My
object was to appeal to the senses of the public by
doing the thing in every town where practicable.
By this method I succeeded, where the other would
have failed, but it by no means followed that I was
unacquainted with the philosophy of my own plans,
merely because I preferred the doing of the thing to
the writing about it. Believing, however, that
the time has now arrived, and that the public mind
is better prepared than it was then, I have thought
I might venture to go a little more into detail, in
order to remove some well founded objections, which,
but for this reason, would not have existed.
The infant mind, like a tender plant, requires to
be handled and dealt with carefully, for if it be forced
and injudiciously treated during the first seven years
of its existence, it will affect its whole constitution
as long as it lives afterwards. There are hundreds