ich will be most advantageous to both.
When a prattling, vivacious child, pours forth a multiplicity of words
without understanding their meaning, we may sometimes beg to have an
explanation of a few of them, and the child will then be obliged to
think, which will prevent him from talking nonsense another time. When
a thoughtful boy, who is in the habit of observing every object he
sees, is at a loss for words to express his ideas, his countenance
usually shows to those who can read the countenance of children, that
he is not stupid; therefore, we need not urge him to talk, but assist
him judiciously with words "in his utmost need:" at the same time we
should observe carefully, whether he grows lazy when we assist him; if
his stock of words does not increase in proportion to the assistance
we give, we should then stimulate him to exertion, or else he will
become habitually indolent in expressing his ideas; though he may
_think_ in a language of his own, he will not be able to understand
our language when we attempt to teach him: this would be a source of
daily misery to both parties.
When children begin to read, they seem suddenly to acquire a great
variety of words: we should carefully examine whether they annex the
proper meaning to these which are so rapidly collected. Instead of
giving them lessons and tasks to get by rote, we should cautiously
watch over every new phrase and every new word which they learn from
books. There are but few books so written that young children can
comprehend a single sentence in them without much explanation. It is
tiresome to those who hear them read to explain every word; it is not
only tiresome, but difficult; besides, the progress of the pupil seems
to be retarded; the grand business of reading, of getting through the
book, is impeded; and the tutor, more impatient than his pupil, says,
"Read on, I cannot stop to explain _that_ to you now. You will
understand the meaning of the sentence if you will read to the end of
the page. You have not read three lines this half hour; we shall never
get on at this rate."
A certain dame at a country school, who had never been able to compass
the word Nebuchadnezzar, used to desire her pupils to "call it
Nazareth, and let it pass."
If they be obliged to pass over words without comprehending them in
books, they will probably do the same in conversation; and the
difficulty of teaching such pupils, and of understanding what they
say, will be e
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