hree cents apiece, two long lead pencils--an article
of great value in the opinion of the boys of country schools--and he
offered them, as prizes, to the boy who would write most carefully; not
to the one who should write _best_, but to the one whose book should
exhibit most appearance of _effort_ and _care_ for a week. After
announcing his plan, he watched with strong interest its operation. He
walked round the room while the writing was in progress, to observe the
effect of his measure. He did not reprove those who were writing
carelessly; he simply noticed who and how many they were. He did not
commend those who were evidently making effort; he noticed who and how
many they were, that he might understand how far, and upon what sort of
minds, his experiment was successful, and where it failed. He was taking
a lesson in human nature--human nature as it exhibits itself in
boys--and was preparing to operate more and more powerfully by future
plans.

The lesson which he learned by the experiment was this, that one or two
prizes will not influence the majority of a large school. A few of the
boys seemed to think that the pencils were possibly within their reach,
and _they_ made vigorous efforts to secure them; but the rest wrote on
as before. Thinking it certain that they should be surpassed by the
others, they gave up the contest at once in despair.

The obvious remedy was to _multiply_ his prizes, so as to bring one of
them within the reach of all. He reflected, too, that the real prize, in
such a case, is not the value of the pencil, but the _honor of the
victory_; and as the honor of the victory might as well be coupled with
an object of less, as well as with one of greater value, the next week
he divided his two pencils into quarters, and offered to his pupils
eight prizes instead of two. He offered one to every five scholars, as
they sat on their benches, and every boy then saw that a reward would
certainly come within five of him. His chance, accordingly, instead of
being one in twenty, became one in five.

Now is it possible for a teacher, after having philosophized upon the
nature of the minds upon which he is operating, and surveyed the field,
and ingeniously formed a plan, which plan he hopes will, through his own
intrinsic power, produce certain effects--is it possible for him, when
he comes, for the first day, to witness its operations, to come without
feeling a strong interest in the result? It is not possi