Читать книгу The Boarding School: Familiar conversations between a governess and her pupils. - Unknown - Страница 2

Elizabeth Adair was stooping to prop a rose-tree in a viranda, when she hastily turned to her sister, and exclaimed, “it is useless attending either to plants or flowers now: I must give up all my favourite pursuits.”

“But you will have others to engage your attention,” returned Jane.

“And will they afford me pleasure? You may as well say that I shall listen with joy to the foolish commands of some parents, and the haughty remarks of others.”

“Let this be our comfort,” said Jane, “sensible people always treat the instructors of youth with respect; they neither command with pride, nor complain with insolence.”

“But think of the change! We, who have had every indulgence, and no cares to perplex us!”

“My dear Elizabeth, in the day of prosperity we seldom rejoice with thankfulness; but in the time of adversity, when our path is darkened, then we can bitterly repine. Surely we should place our joys and our sorrows against each other, as a defence from a murmuring spirit.”

“It is not late trials that trouble me, but future vexations that I dread. You know that I have never been accustomed to stupid, drawling, spoiled children.”

“I hope,” said Jane, “you will not have a class of this description to instruct.”

“O, all things will be easy to you, for you love children and love teaching; but I have never applied my mind to any thing of the kind: I shall not know how to ask the most simple question in nature.”

Jane smiled, as she said, “Since you are so very doubtful of your abilities, I think I will give a short lesson upon teaching. Suppose you ask your pupil if she has learned grammar: if she replies in the affirmative, desire her to explain the nature of the different parts of speech. Then try her abilities in the arithmetical tables, or from the history of England; tell her to relate some particular event in the reign of one of our kings, and go on to other subjects in a similar manner. In the first instance, however, always hear your pupil read; clear, distinct reading, with proper emphasis—I do not mean in a theatrical style—is one test of abilities; give her some pointed passage from history, or from any suitable book.”

“I want an example,” said Elizabeth.

“Now, sister, you are trifling, and will lead me to trifle in return.”

“In 1199 John signed Magna Charta, the bulwark of English liberty;” or, “the king wept when he found himself a prisoner; but the master of Glamis said—”

“Go on, my dear Jane: the master of Glamis I will not have any thing to say to.”

“You forget,” said Jane, “that we are not to finish a sentence with to, or for, or any word so insignificant. Let a little girl read, ‘remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth,’ or something in the same easy, impressive style. But consult my mother: she will give you the best information upon the subject of teaching.”

“Ah,” said Elizabeth, “my spirits fail when I think of the task! I only wish the first week were over.”

“It will pass away like all other things. We have only to be resolute in doing our duty, and leave the rest to Providence. Let us at all times remember our own excellent instructress: her ‘authority, when most severe, and mustering all its force, was but the graver countenance of love, watering at once and nourishing the plant.’”