School Efficiency Monographs

THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL

by

FRANCIS B. PEARSON

Superintendent of Public Instruction for Ohio

Author of _The Evolution of the Teacher_, _The High School Problem_, _Reveries Of A Schoolmaster_, and _The Vitalized School_

World Book Company

1921

PREFACE

In our school processes there are many constants which have generalrecognition as such by thoughtful people. On the other hand, there aremany variables which should be subjected to close scrutiny to the end thatthey may be made to yield forth the largest possible returns upon theinvestment of time and effort. These phases of school procedure constitutethe real problem in the work of reconstruction, and the following pagesrepresent an effort to point the way toward larger and better results inthe realm of these variables. In general, the aims and purposes of theworker determine the quality of the work done. If, therefore, this volumesucceeds in stimulating teachers to elevate the goals of their endeavors, it will have accomplished its purpose. --F. B. P. 

CONTENTS

 CHAPTER

 I. A PRELIMINARY SURVEY OF THE TASK BEFORE THE SCHOOL II. THE PAST AS RELATED TO THE PRESENT III. THE FUTURE AS RELATED TO THE PRESENT IV. INTEGRITY V. APPRECIATION VI. ASPIRATION VII. INITIATIVE VIII. IMAGINATION IX. REVERENCE X. SENSE OF RESPONSIBILITY XI. LOYALTY XII. DEMOCRACY XIII. SERENITY XIV. LIFE INDEX

THE RECONSTRUCTED SCHOOL

CHAPTER ONE

A PRELIMINARY SURVEY OF THE TASK BEFORE THE SCHOOL

When people come to think alike, they tend to act alike; unison inthinking begets unison in action. It is often said that the man and wifewho have spent years together have grown to resemble each other; but theresemblance is probably in actions rather than in looks; the fact is thatthey have had common goals of thinking throughout the many years they havelived together and so have come to act in unison. The wise teacher oftenadjusts difficult situations in her school by inducing the pupils to thinktoward a common goal. In their zeal for a common enterprise the childrenforget their differences and attain unison in action as the result oftheir unison in thinking. The school superintendent knows full well thatif he can bring teachers, pupils, and parents to think toward a commongoal, he will soon have unity of action. When people catch step mentally, they do the same physically, and as they move forward along the paths oftheir common thinking, their ways converge until, in time, they findthemselves walking side by side in amiable and agreeable converse. 

In the larger world outside the school, community enterprises help togenerate unity of thinking and consequent unity of action. The pastorfinds it one of his larger tasks to establish a focus for the thinking ofhis people in order to induce concerted action. If the enterprise is oneof charity, the neighbors soon find themselves vying with one another inzeal and good will. In the zest of a common purpose they see one anotherwith new eyes and find delight in working with people whose society theyonce avoided. They can now do teamwork, because they are all thinkingtoward the same high and worthy goal; lines of demarcation are obliteratedand spirits blend in a common purpose. Unity of action becomes inevitableas soon as thinking becomes unified. 

Coöperation follows close upon the heels of community thinking. In thepresence of a great calamity, rivalries, differences of creed and party, and long-established animosities disappear in the zeal for beneficentaction. In the case of fire or flood people are at one in their actionsbecause they are thinking toward the common goal of rescue. They acttogether only when they think together. Indeed, coöperation is animpossibility apart from unified thinking. Herein lies the efficacy ofleadership. It is the province of the leader to induce unity of thinking, to animate with a common purpose, knowing that united action willcertainly ensue. If he can cause the thinking of people to center upon afocal point, he establishes his claim to leadership. 

What is true of individuals is true, also, of nations. Before they can actin concert, they must think in concert, and, to do this, they must acquirethe ability to think toward common goals. If, to illustrate, all nationsshould come to think toward the goal of democracy, there would ensue acloser sympathy among them, and, in time, modifications of their forms ofgovernment would come about as a natural result of their unity ofthinking. Again, if all nations of the world should set up the quality ofcourage as one of the objectives of their thinking they would be drawncloser together in their feelings and in their conduct. If the parents andteachers of all these nations should strive to exorcise fear in thetraining of children, this purpose would constitute a bond of sympathyamong them and they would be encouraged by the reflection that this highpurpose was animating parents and teachers the world around. Courage, ofcourse, is of the spirit and typifies many spiritual qualities thatcharacterize civilization of high grade. It is quite conceivable thatthese qualities of the spirit may become the goals of thinking in alllands. Thus the nations would be brought into a relation of closerharmony. Had a score of boys shared the experience of the lad who grewinto the likeness of the Great Stone Face, their differences anddisparities would have disappeared in the zeal of a common purpose andthey would have become a unified organization in thinking toward the samegoal. 

We cannot hope to achieve the brotherhood of man until the nations of theworld have directed their thinking toward the same goals. What these goalsshall be must be determined by competent leadership through the process ofeducation. When we think in unison we are taken out of ourselves andbecome merged in the spirit of the goal toward which we are thinking. Ifwe were to agree upon courage as one of the spiritual qualities thatshould characterize all nations and organize all educational forces forthe development of this quality, we should find the nations coming closerto one another with this quality as a common possession. Courage givesfreedom, and in this freedom the nations would touch spiritual elbows andwould thus become spiritual confederates and comrades. By generating anddeveloping this and other spiritual qualities the nations would becomemerged and unity of feeling and actions would surely ensue. Since love isthe greatest thing in the world, this quality may well be made the majorgoal toward which the thinking of all nations shall be directed. When allpeoples come to think and yearn toward this goal, hatred and strife willbe banished and peace and righteousness will be enthroned in the hearts ofmen. When there has been developed in all the nations of the earth anardent love for the true, the beautiful, and the good, civilization willstep up to a higher level and we shall see the dawn of unity. 

We who are indulging in dreams of the brotherhood of man must enlarge ourconcept of society before we can hope to have our dreams come true. It isa far cry from society as a strictly American affair to society as a worldaffair. The teaching of our schools has had a distinct tendency torestrict our notion of society to that within our own national boundaries. In this we convict ourselves of provincialism. Society is far larger thanAmerica, or China, or Russia, or all the islands of the sea incombination. It may entail some straining at the mental leash to win thisconcept of society, but it must be won as a condition precedent to a fairand just estimate of what the function of education really is and what itis of which the schoolhouse must be an exponent. Society must be thoughtof as including all nations, tribes, and tongues. In our thinking, theword "society" must suggest the hut that nestles on the mountain-side aswell as the palace that fronts the stately boulevard. It must suggest thecape that indents the sea as well as the vast plain that stretches outfrom river to river. And it must suggest the toiler at his task, theemployer at his desk, the man of leisure in his home, the voyager on theocean, the soldier in the ranks, the child at his lessons, and the mothercrooning her baby to sleep. 

We descant volubly upon the subjects of citizenship and civilization but, as yet, have achieved no adequate definition of either of the terms uponwhich we expatiate so fluently. Our books teem with admonitions to trainfor citizenship in order that we may attain civilization of betterquality. But, in all this, we imply American citizenship and Americancivilization, and here, again, we show forth our provincialism. But evenin this restricted field we arrive at our hazy concept of a good citizenby the process of elimination. We aver that a good citizen does not dothis and does not do that; yet the teachers in our schools would find itdifficult to describe a good citizen adequately, in positive terms. Ournotions of good citizenship are more or less vague and misty and, therefore, our concept of civilization is equally so. 

Granting, however, that we may finally achieve satisfactory definitions ofcitizenship and civilization as applying to our own country, it does notfollow that the same definitions will obtain in other lands. A goodcitizen according to the Chinese conception may differ widely from a goodcitizen in the United States. Topography, climate, associations, occupations, traditions, and racial tendencies must all be taken intoaccount in formulating a definition. Before we can gain a right concept ofgood citizenship as a world affair we must make a thoughtful study ofworld conditions. In so doing, we may have occasion to modify and correctsome of our own preconceived notions and thus extend the horizon of oureducation. 

What society is and should be in the world at large; what good citizenshipis and ought to be in the whole world; and what civilization is, shouldbe, and may be as a world enterprise--these considerations are thefoundation stones upon which we must build the temple of education now inthe process of reconstruction. Otherwise the work will be narrow, illiberal, spasmodic, and sporadic. It must be possible to arrive at acommon denominator of the concepts of society, citizenship, andcivilization as pertaining to all nations; it must be possible to contrivea composite of all these concepts to which all nations will subscribe; andit must be possible to discover some fundamental principles that willconstitute a focal point toward which the thinking of all nations can bedirected. Once this focal point is determined and the thinking of theworld focused upon it, the work of reconstruction has been inaugurated. 

But the task is not a simple one by any means; quite the contrary, for itis world-embracing in its scope. However difficult the task, it is, nonethe less, altogether alluring and worthy. It is quite within the range ofpossibilities for a book to be written, even a textbook, that would servea useful purpose and meet a distinct need in the schools of all lands. Atthis point the question of languages obtrudes itself. When people think inunison a common language is reduced to the plane of a mere convenience, not a necessity. The buyer and the seller may not speak the same languagebut, somehow, they contrive to effect a satisfactory adjustment becausetheir thinking is centered upon the same objective. When thinking becomescosmopolitan, conduct becomes equally so. If this be conceded, then it isquite within the range of possibilities to formulate a course of study forall the schools of the world, if only we set up as goals the qualitiesthat will make for the well-being of people in all lands. True, the meansmay differ in different lands, but, even so, the ends will remainconstant. A thousand people may set out from their homes with Rome astheir destination. They will use all means of travel and speak manylanguages as they journey forward, but their destination continuesconstant and they will use the best means at their command to attain thecommon goal. Similarly, if we set up the quality of loyalty as one of oureducational goals, the means may differ but the goal does not change and, therefore, the nations will be actuated by a common purpose in theireducational endeavors. 

The one thing needful for the execution of this ambitious program ofsecuring concerted thinking is to have in our schools teachers who areworld-minded, who think in world units. Such teachers, and only such, canplan for world education and world affairs, and bring their plans to asuccessful issue. Some teachers seem able to think only of a schoolroom;others of a building; others of a town or township; still others of astate; some of a country; and fewer yet of the world as a single thing. Aperson can be no larger than his unit of thinking. One who thinks in smallunits convicts himself of provincialism and soon becomes intolerant. Sucha person arrogates to himself superiority and inclines to feel somewhatcontemptuous of people outside the narrow limits of his thinking. If hethinks his restricted horizon bounds all that is worth knowing, he willnot exert himself to climb to a higher level in order that he may gain awider view. He is disdainful and intolerant of whatever lies beyond hishorizon, and his attitude, if not his words, repeats the question of theculpable Cain, "Am I my brother's keeper?" He is encased in an armor thatis impervious to ordinary appeal. He is satisfied with himself and asksmerely to be let alone. He is quite content to be held fast bound in histraditional moorings without any feeling of sympathy for the world as awhole. 

The reverse side of the picture reveals the teacher who is world-minded. Such a teacher is never less than magnanimous; intolerance has no place inhis scheme of life; he is in sympathy with all nations in their progresstoward light and right; and he is interested in all world progress whetherin science, in art, in literature, in economics, in industry, or ineducation. To this end he is careful to inform himself as to worldmovements and notes with keen interest the trend and development ofcivilization. Being a world-citizen himself, he strives, in his schoolwork, to develop in his pupils the capacity and the desire forworld-citizenship. With no abatement of thoroughness in the work of hisschool, he still finds time to look up from his tasks to catch the viewbeyond his own national boundaries. If the superintendent who isworld-minded has the hearty coöperation of teachers who are alsoworld-minded, together they will be able to develop a plan of educationthat is world-wide. To produce teachers of this type may require areadjustment and reconstruction of the work of colleges and trainingschools to the end that the teachers they send forth may measure up to therequirements of this world-wide concept of education. But theseinstitutions can hardly hope to be immune to the process ofreconstruction. They can hardly hope to cite the past as a guide for thefuture, for traditional lines are being obliterated and new lines arebeing marked out for civilization, including education in its larger andnewer import. 

CHAPTER TWO

THE PAST AS RELATED TO THE PRESENT

In a significant degree the present is the heritage of the past, and anycritical appraisement of the present must take cognizance of the influenceof the past. That there are weak places in our present civilization, noone will deny; nor will it be denied that the sources of some of these maybe found in the past. We have it on good authority that "the fathers haveeaten sour grapes and the children's teeth are set on edge. " Had theeating of sour grapes in the past been more restricted, the presentgeneration would stand less in need of dentistry. When we take aninventory of the people of the present who are defective in body, in mind, or in spirit, it seems obvious that the consumption of sour grapes, in thepast, must have been quite extensive. If the blood of the grandfather wastainted, it is probable that the blood of the grandchild is impure. 

The defects of the present would seem to constitute a valid indictmentagainst the educational agencies of the past. These agencies are notconfined to the school but include law, medicine, civics, sociology, government, hygiene, eugenics, home life, and physical training. Had allthese phases of education done their perfect work in the past, the presentwould be in better case. It seems a great pity that it required a worldwar to render us conscious of many of the defects of society. The draftboard made discoveries of facts that seem to have eluded the home, theschool, the family physician, and the boards of health. Many of thesediscoveries are most disquieting and reflect unfavorably upon some of theeducational practices of the past. The many cases of physical unfitnessand the fewer cases of athletic hearts seem to have escaped the attentionof physical directors and athletic coaches, not to mention parents andphysicians. Seeing that one fourth of our young men have been pronouncedphysically unsound, it behooves us to turn our gaze toward the past todetermine, if possible, wherein our educational processes have been atfault. 

The thoughtful person who stands on the street-corner watching thepromiscuous throng pass by and making a careful appraisement of theirphysical, mental, and spiritual qualities, will not find the experienceparticularly edifying. He will note many facts that will depress ratherthan encourage and inspire. In the throng he will see many men and women, young and old, who, as specimens of physical manhood and womanhood, arefar from perfect. He will see many who are young in years but who are oldin looks and physical bearing. They creep or shuffle along as if boweddown with the weight of years, lacking the graces of buoyancy andabounding youth. They are bent, gnarled, shriveled, faded, weak, andwizened. Their faces reveal the absence of the looks that betoken hope, courage, aspiration, and high purpose. Their lineaments and their gaitshow forth a ghastly forlornness that excites pity and despair. They seemthe veriest derelicts, tossed to and fro by the currents of life withouthope of redemption. 

Their whole bearing indicates that they are languid, morbid, misanthropic, and nerveless. They seem ill-nourished as well as mentally and spirituallystarved. They seem the victims of inherited or acquired weaknesses thatstamp them as belonging among the physically unfit. If the farmer shoulddiscover among his animals as large a percentage of unfitness andimperfection, he would reach the conclusion at once that something wasradically wrong and would immediately set on foot well-thought-out plansto rectify the situation. But, seeing that these derelicts are humanbeings and not farm stock, we bestow upon them a sneer, or possibly apittance by way of alms, and pass on our complacent ways. Looking upon theimperfect passersby, the observer is reminded of the tens of thousands ofchildren who are defective in mind and body and are hidden away frompublic gaze, a charge upon the resources of the state. 

Such a setting forth of the less agreeable side of present conditionswould seem out of place, if not actually impertinent, were we inclined toignore the fact that diagnosis must precede treatment. The surgeon knowsfull well that there will be pain, but he is comforted by the reflectionthat restoration to health will succeed the pain. We need to look squarelyat the facts as they are in order to determine what must be done to averta repetition in the future. We have seen the sins of the fathers visitedupon the children to the third and fourth generation and still retainedour complacency. We preach temperance to the young men of our day, butfail to set forth the fact that right living on their part will make forthe well-being of their grandchildren. We exhibit our thoroughbred livestock at our fairs and plume ourselves upon our ability to produce stockof such quality. In the case of live stock we know that the present is theproduct of the past, but seem less ready to acknowledge the same fact astouching human animals. We may know that our ancestors planted thorns andyet we seem surprised that we cannot gather a harvest of grapes, and wewould fain gather figs from a planting of thistles. But this may not be. We harvest according to the planting of our ancestors, and, with equalcertainty, if we eat sour grapes the teeth of our descendants will surelybe put on edge. 

If we are to reconstruct our educational processes we must make a criticalsurvey of the entire situation that we may be fully advised of themagnitude of the problem to which we are to address ourselves. We may notblink the facts but must face them squarely; otherwise we shall not geton. We may take unction to ourselves for our philanthropic zeal in caringfor our unfortunates in penal and eleemosynary institutions, but that willnot suffice. We must frankly consider by what means the number of theseunfortunates may be reduced. If we fail to do this we convict ourselves ofcowardice or impotence. We pile up our millions in buildings for theinsane, the feeble-minded, the vicious, the epileptic, and plume ourselvesupon our munificence. But if all these unfortunates could be redeemed fromtheir thralldom, and these countless millions turned back into thechannels of trade, civilization would take on a new meaning. Here is oneof the problems that calls aloud to education for a solution and will notbe denied. 

One of the avowed purposes of education is to lift society to a higherplane of thinking and acting, and it is always and altogether pertinent tomake an inventory to discover if this laudable purpose is beingaccomplished. Such an inventory can be made only by an analyst; the workcannot be delegated either to a pessimist or to an optimist. In hisefforts to determine whether society is advancing or receding, the analystoften makes disquieting discoveries. 

It must be admitted by the most devoted and patriotic American that ourcivilization includes many elements that can truly be denominatedfrivolous, superficial, artificial, and inconsequential. As a people, weseek to be entertained, but fail to make a nice distinction betweenentertainment and amusement. War, it is true, has caused us to think moresoberly and feel more deeply; but the bizarre, the gaudy, and thesuperficial still make a strong appeal to us. We are quite happy to wearpaste diamonds, provided only that they sparkle. So long have we beensubstituting the fictitious for the genuine that we have contracted thehabit of loose, fictitious thinking. So much does the show element appealto us that we incline to parade even our troubles. Simplicity andsincerity, whether in dress, in speech, or in conduct, have so long beenforeign to our daily living and thinking that we incline to style thesequalities as old-fogyish. 

A hundred or more young men came to a certain city to enlist for the war. As they marched out through the railway station they rent the air withwhooping and yells and other manifestations of boisterous conduct. Theseyoung fellows may have hearts of gold, but their real manhood was overlaidwith a veneer of rudeness that could not commend them to the admiration ofcultivated persons. Inside the station was another group of young men inkhaki who were quiet, dignified, and decorous. The contrast between thetwo groups was most striking, and the bystanders were led to wonderwhether it requires a world-war to teach our young men manners and whetherthe schools and homes have abdicated in favor of the cantonment in theteaching of deportment. In the schools and the homes that are to be in ourgood land we may well hope that decorum will be emphasized and magnified;for decorum is evermore the fruitage of intellectuality and genuineculture. 

As a nation, we have been prodigal of our resources and, especially, ofour time. We have failed to regard our leisure hours as a liability but, like the lotus eaters, have dallied in the realm of pleasure. Likechildren at play, we have gone on our pleasure-seeking ways all heedlessof the clock, and, when misfortune came and necessity arose, many of uswere unwilling and more of us unable to engage in the work of production. In some localities legislation was invoked to urge us toward the fieldsand gardens. We have shown ourselves a wasteful people, and in the wake ofour wastefulness have followed a dismal train of disasters, cold, hunger, and many another form of distress. Deplore and repent of our prodigalityas we may, the effects abide to remind us of our decline from the highplane of industry, frugality, and conservation of leisure. Nor can we hopeto avert a repetition of this crisis unless education comes in to guideour minds and hands aright. 

Again, we have been wont to estimate men by what they have rather than bywhat they are, and to regard as of value only such things as are quoted inthe markets. Wall Street takes precedence over the university and to themillionaire we accord the front seat even in some of our churches. Weaccept the widow's mite but do not inscribe her name upon the roll ofhonor. We give money prizes for work in our schools and thus strive tocommercialize the things of the mind and of the spirit. We have laid wasteour forests, impoverished our fields, and defiled our landscapes tostimulate increased activity in our clearing-houses. Like Jason of old, wehave wandered far in quest of the golden fleece. We welcome the rainbow, not for its beauty but for the bag of gold at its end. We seek to scalethe heights of Olympus by stairways of gold, fondly nursing the conceitthat, once we have scaled these heights, we shall be equal to the gods. 

To indulge in even such a brief review of some of the weak places anddefections of society is not an agreeable task, but diagnosis mustnecessarily precede the application of remedies. If we are to reconstructeducation in order to effect a reconstruction of society we must know ourproblem in advance, that we may proceed in a rational way. Reconstructioncannot be made permanently effective by haphazard methods. We mustvisualize clearly the objectives of our endeavors in order to obviatewrong methods and futility. We must have the whole matter laid bare beforeour eyes or we shall not get on in the work of reconstruction. It weremore agreeable to dwell upon our achievements, and they are many, but theprocess of reconstruction has to do with the affected parts. These must beour special care, these the realm for our kindly surgery and the arts ofhealing. We need to become acutely conscious that the present will becomethe past and that there will be a new present which will take on the samequalities that now characterize our present. We need to feel that thefuture will look back to our present and commend or condemn according tothe practices of this generation. And the only way to make a sane andright future is to create a sane and right present. 

CHAPTER THREE

THE FUTURE AS RELATED TO THE PRESENT

In planning a journey the one constant is the destination. All the otherelements are variable, and, therefore, subordinate. So, also, in planninga course of study. The qualities to be developed through the educationalprocesses are the constants, while the agencies by which these qualitiesare to be attained are subject to change. The course of study provides forthe school activities for the child for a period of twelve years, and itis altogether pertinent to inquire what qualities we hope to develop bymeans of these school activities. To do this effectively we must visualizethe pupil when he emerges from the school period and ask ourselves whatqualities we hope to have him possess at the close of this period. If wedecide upon such qualities as imagination, initiative, aspiration, appreciation, courage, loyalty, reverence, a sense of responsibility, integrity, and serenity, we have discovered some of the constants towardwhich all the work of the twelve years must be directed. In planning acourse of study toward these constants we do not restrict the scope of thepupil's activities; quite the reverse. We thus enlarge the concept ofeducation both for himself and his teachers and emphasize the fact thateducation is a continuous process and may not be marked by grades orsubjects. For the teachers we establish goals of school endeavor and thusunify and articulate all their efforts. We focus their attention upon thepupil as they would all wish to see him when he completes the work of theschool. 

If children are asked why they go to school, nine out of ten, perhaps, will reply that they go to school to learn arithmetic, grammar, geography, and history. Asked what their big purpose is in teaching, probably threeout of five teachers will answer that they are actuated by a desire tocause their pupils to know arithmetic, grammar, geography, and history. One of the other five teachers may echo something out of her pastaccumulations to the effect that her work is the training for citizenship, and the fifth will say quite frankly that she is groping about, all thewhile, searching for the answer to that very question. It would be futileto ask the children why they desire knowledge of these subjects and theremight be hazard in propounding the same question to the three teachers. They teach arithmetic because it is in the course of study; it is in thecourse of study because the superintendent put it there; and thesuperintendent put it there because some other superintendent has it inhis course of study. 

Now arithmetic may, in reality, be one of the best things a child canstudy; but the child takes it because the teacher prescribes it, and theteacher takes it on faith because the superintendent takes it on faith andshe cannot go counter to the dictum of the superintendent. Besides, it isfar easier to teach arithmetic than it would be to challenge the right ofthis subject to a place in the course of study. To most people, includingmany teachers, arithmetic is but a habit of thinking. They have beencontracting this habit through all the years since the beginning of theirschool experience, until now it seems as inevitable as any other habitualaffair. It is quite as much a habit of their thinking as eating, sleeping, or walking. If there were no arithmetic, they argue subconsciously, therecould be no school; for arithmetic and school are synonymous. Again, letit be said that there is no thought here of inveighing against arithmeticor any other subject of the curriculum. Not arithmetic in itself, but thearithmetic habit constitutes the incubus, the evil spirit that needs to beexorcised. 

This arithmetic habit had its origin, doubtless, in the traditionalconcept of knowledge as power. An adage is not easily controverted oreradicated. The copy-books of the fathers proclaimed boldly that knowledgeis power, and the children accepted the dictum as inviolable. If it weretrue that knowledge is power, the procedure of the schools and the courseof conduct of the teachers during all these years would have amplejustification. The entire process would seem simplicity itself. So soon aswe acquire knowledge we should have power--and power is altogetherdesirable. The trouble is that we have been confusing knowledge and wisdomin the face of the poet's declaration that "Knowledge and wisdom, far frombeing one, have ofttimes no connection. " Our experience should have taughtus that many people who have much knowledge are relatively impotent forthe reason that they have not learned how to use their knowledge in theway of generating power. Gasoline is an inert substance, but, underwell-understood conditions, it affords power. Water is not power, but manhas learned how to use it in generating power. Knowledge is convenient andserviceable, but its greatest utility lies in the fact that it can beemployed in producing power. 

We are prone to take our judgments ready-made and have been relying uponthe copy-books of the fathers rather than our own reasoning powers. If wehad only learned in childhood the distinction between knowledge andwisdom; if we had learned that knowledge is not power but merelypotential; and if we had learned that knowledge is but the means to an endand not the end itself, we should have been spared many a delusion and oureducational sky would not now be so overcast with clouds. We have beenproceeding upon the agreeable assumption that arithmetic, geography, andhistory are the goals of every school endeavor, the Ultima Thule of everyeducational quest. The child studies arithmetic, is subjected to anexamination that may represent the bent or caprice of the teacher, managesto struggle through seventy per cent of the answers, is promoted to thenext higher grade, and, thereupon, starts on his journey around anothercircle. And we call this education. These processes constitute themechanics of education, but, in and of themselves, they are not education. One of the big problems of the school today is to emancipate both teachersand pupils from the erroneous notion that they are. 

The child does not go to school to learn arithmetic and spelling andgrammar. The goal to be attained is far higher and better than either ofthese or all combined. The study of arithmetic may prove a highlyprofitable means, never the end to be gained. This statement will beboldly challenged by the traditional teacher, but it is so stronglyintrenched in logic and sound pedagogy that it is impregnable. The goalmight, possibly, be reached without the aid of arithmetic, but, if aknowledge of this subject will facilitate the process, then, of course, itbecomes of value and should be used. Let us assume, for the moment, thatthe teacher decides to set up thoroughness as one of the large objectivesof her teaching. While she may be able to reach this goal sooner by meansof arithmetic, no one will contend that arithmetic is indispensable. Nor, indeed, will any one contend that arithmetic is comparable to thoroughnessas a goal to be attained. If the teacher's constant aim is thoroughness, she will achieve even better results in the arithmetic and will inculcatehabits in her pupils that serve them in good stead throughout life. Forthe quality of thoroughness is desirable in every activity of life, and wedo well to emphasize every study and every activity of the school thathelps in the development of this quality. 

If the superintendent were challenged to adduce a satisfactory reason whyhe has not written thoroughness into his course of study he might be hardput to it to justify the omission. He hopes, of course, that the qualityof thoroughness will issue somehow from the study of arithmetic andscience, but he lacks the courage, apparently, to proclaim this hope inprint. He says that education is a spiritual process, while his course ofstudy proves that he is striving to produce mental acrobats, relegatingthe spiritual qualities to the rank of by-products. His course of studyshows conclusively that he thinks that knowledge is power. Oncedisillusion him on this point and his course of study will cease to be tohim the sacrosanct affair it has always appeared and he will no longerlook upon it as a sort of sacrilege to inject into this course of studysome elements that seem to violate the sanctities of tradition. 

Advancing another brief step, we may try to imagine the superintendent'ssuggesting to the teachers at the opening of the school year that theydevote the year to inculcating in their pupils the qualities ofthoroughness, self-control, courage, and reverence. The faces of theteachers, at such a proposal, would undoubtedly afford opportunity for aninteresting study and the linguistic reactions of some of them would beforcible to the point of picturesqueness. The traditional teachers woulddemand to know by what right he presumed to impose upon them such anunheard-of program. Others might welcome the suggestion as a means ofrelief from irritating and devastating drudgery. In their quaint innocenceand guilelessness their souls would revel in rainbow dreams ofpreachments, homilies, and wise counsel that would cause the qualities ofself-control and reverence to spring into being full-grown even as Minervafrom the head of Jove. 

But their beatific visions would dissolve upon hearing the superintendentname certain teachers to act as a committee to determine and report uponthe studies that would best serve the purpose of generating reverence, andanother committee to select the studies that would most effectivelystimulate and develop self-control, and so on through the list. It is herethat we find the crux of the whole matter. Here the program collides withtradition and with stereotyped habits of thinking. Many superintendentsand teachers will contend that such a problem is impossible of solutionbecause no one has ever essayed such a task. No one, they argue, has everdetermined what subjects will effectually generate the specific qualitiesself-control or reverence, no one has ever discovered what school studieswill function in given spiritual qualities. According to their course ofreasoning nothing is possible that has not already been done. However, there are some progressive, dynamic superintendents and teachers who willwelcome the opportunity to test their resourcefulness in seeking thesolution of a problem that is both new and big. To these dynamic ones wemust look for results and when this solution is evolved, the work ofreconstruction will move on apace. 

Reverting, for the moment, to the subject of thoroughness: it must beclear that this quality is worthy a place in the course of study becauseit is worthy the best efforts of the pupil. Furthermore, it is worthy thebest efforts of the pupil because it is an important element ofcivilization. These statements all need reiteration and emphasis to theend that they may become thoroughly enmeshed in the social consciousness. If we can cause people to think toward thoroughness rather than towardarithmetic or other school studies, we shall win the feeling that we aremaking progress. Thoroughness must be distinguished, of course, from asmattering knowledge of details that have no value. In the right sensethoroughness must be interpreted as the habit of mastery. We may wellindulge the hope that the time will come when parents will invoke the aidof the schools to assist their children in acquiring this habit ofmastery. When that time comes the schools will be working toward largerand higher objectives and education will have become a spiritual processin reality. 

It will be readily conceded that the habit of mastery is a desirablequality in every vocation and in every avocation. It is a very real asseton the farm, in the factory, in legislative halls, in the offices oflawyer and physician, in the study, in the shop, and in the home. Whenmastery becomes habitual with people in all these activities society willthrill with the pulsations of new life and civilization will rise to ahigher level. But how may the child acquire this habit of mastery? On whatmeat shall this our pupil feed that he may become master of himself, master of all his powers, and master of every situation in which he findshimself? How shall he win that mastery that will enable him to interpretevery obstacle as a new challenge to his powers, and to translatetemporary defeat into ultimate victory? How may he enter into suchcomplete sense of mastery that he will not quail in the presence ofdifficulties, that he will never display the white flag or the whitefeather, that he will ever show forth the spirit of Henley's _Invictus_, and that nothing short of death may avail to absolve him from hisobligations to his high standards?

These questions are referred, with all proper respect, to thesuperintendent, the principal, and the teachers, whose province it is tovouchsafe satisfactory answers. If they tell us that arithmetic will be ofassistance in the way of inculcating this habit of mastery, then we shallhail arithmetic with joyous acclaim and accord it a place of honor in theschool regime, --but only as an auxiliary, only as a means to the great endof mastery. If they assure us that science will be equally serviceable inour enterprise of developing mastery, then we shall give to science anequally hearty welcome. However, we shall emphasize the right to stipulatethat, in the course of study, the capitals shall be reserved for the bigobjective thoroughness, of the habit of mastery, and that the means begiven in small letters and as sub-heads. 

We may indulge in the conceit that a flag floats at the summit of a loftyand more or less rugged elevation. The youth who essays the task ofreaching that flag will need to reinforce his strength at supply stationsalong the way. If we style one of these stations arithmetic, it will beevident, at once, that this station is a subsidiary element in theenterprise and not the goal, for that is the flag at the top. These supplystations are useful in helping the youth to reach his goal. We mayconceive of many of these stations, such as algebra, or history, or Greek, or Chinese. Whatever their names, they are all but means to an end andwhen that end has been attained the youth can afford to forget them, inlarge part, save only in gratitude for their help in enabling him to winthe goal of thoroughness. 

The child eats beefsteak because it is palatable; the mother prescribesbeefsteak and prepares it carefully with the child's health as the goal ofher interests. Moreover, she has a more vital interest in beefsteakbecause she is thinking of health as the goal. For another child, she mayprescribe eggs and, for still another, milk or oatmeal, according to eachone's needs. Health is the big goal and these foods are the supplystations along the way. The physician must assist in determining whatarticles of food will best serve the purpose and to this end he mustcooperate with the mother in knowing his patients. He must have knowledgeof foods and must know how to adapt means to ends, never losing sight ofthe real goal. The inference is altogether obvious. A superintendent mustwrite the prescription in the form of a course of study and he may notwith impunity mistake a supply station for the goal. He must haveknowledge of the pupils and know their individual needs and nativeinterests. Having gained this knowledge, he will supply abundant electivesin order to assist each child in the best possible way toward the goal. 

If, then, the relation between major ends and minor means has been madeclear, we are ready for the statement that these major ends may be madethe common goals of endeavor in the schools of all lands. Thoroughness isquite as necessary in the rice fields of China as in the wheat fields ofAmerica, as necessary in the banks of Rome as in the banks of New York, quite as essential to mercantile transactions in Cape Town as in Chicago, and quite as essential to home life in Tokyo as in San Francisco. If thesebig objectives are set up in the schools of all countries pupils, teachers, and people will come to think in unison and thus their ways willconverge and they will come to act in unison. The same high purposes willactuate and animate society as a whole and this, in turn, will make for ahigher type of civilization and accelerate progress toward unity in schoolprocedure. 

CHAPTER FOUR

INTEGRITY

Integrity connotes many qualities that are necessary to success in thehigh art of right and rational living and that are conspicuous, therefore, in society of high grade. It is an inclusive quality, and is, in reality, a federation of qualities that are esteemed essential to a highlydeveloped civilization. The term, like the word from which it is derived, _integer_, signifies completeness, wholeness, entirety, soundness, rectitude, unimpaired state. It implies no scarification, no blemish, nounsoundness, no abrasion, no disfigurement, no distortion, no defect. Inordinary parlance integrity and honesty are regarded as synonyms, but aclose analysis discovers honesty to be but one of the many manifestationsof integrity. Lincoln displayed honesty in returning the pennies by way ofrectifying a mistake, but that act, honest as it was, did not engage allhis integrity. This big quality manifested itself at Gettysburg, in theletter to Mrs. Bixby, in visiting the hospitals to comfort and cheer thewounded soldiers, and in his magnanimity to those who maligned him. 

In every individual the inward quality determines the outward conduct inall its ramifications, whether in his speech, in his actions, or in hisattitude toward other individuals. It is quite as true in a pedagogicalsense as in the scriptural sense that "Men do not gather grapes of thornsor figs of thistles, " and, also, that "By their fruits ye shall knowthem. " The stream does not rise higher than the source. What a man isdoing and how he is doing it tells us what he is. When we would appraise aman's character we take note of his habits, his daily walk andconversation in all his relations to his fellows. If we find a blemish inhis conduct, we arrive at the judgment that his character is not withoutblemish. In short, his habitual acts and speech, in the marts of trade, inthe office, in the field, in the home, and in the forum betoken thepresence or absence of integrity. It follows, then, as a corollary that, if we hope to have in the stream of life that we call society the elementsthat make for a high type of civilization we must have integrity at thesource; and with this quality at the source these elements will inevitablyissue forth into the life currents. This being true, we have clear warrantfor the affirmation that integrity is a worthy goal toward which we dowell to direct the activities of the school. 

Integrity in its large import implies physical soundness, mentalsoundness, and moral soundness. In time we may come to realize thatphysical soundness and mental soundness are but sequences of moralsoundness, or, in other words, that a sound body and a sound mind aremanifestations of a right spirit. But, for the present, we may waive thisconsideration and think of the three phases of integrity--physical, mentaland moral. If, at the age of eighteen years, the boy or girl emerges fromschool experience sound in body, in mind, and in spirit, society willaffirm that education has been effective. To develop young persons of thistype is a work that is worthy the best efforts of the home, the school, the church and society, nor can any one of these agencies shift or shirkresponsibility. The school has a large share of this responsibility, andthose whose duty it is to formulate a course of study may well askthemselves what procedure of the school will best assist the child toattain integrity by means of the school activities. 

In our efforts to generate this quality of integrity, or, indeed, anyquality, it must be kept clearly in mind every day and every hour of theday that the children with whom we have to do are not all alike. On thecontrary, they differ, and often differ widely, in respect of mentalability, environment, inheritances, and native disposition. If they wereall alike, it would be most unfortunate, but we could treat them all alikein our teaching and so fix and perpetuate their likeness to one another. Some teachers have heard and read a hundred times that our teaching shouldattach itself to the native tendencies of the child; yet, in spite ofthis, the teacher proceeds as if all children were alike and all possessedthe same native tendencies. Herein lies a part of the tragedy of ourtraditional, stereotyped, race-track teaching. We assume that children areall alike, that they are standardized children, and so we prescribe forthem a standardized diet and serve it by standardized methods. If we wereproducing bricks instead of embryo men and women our procedure would belaudable, for, in the making of bricks, uniformity is a prime necessity. Each brick must be exactly like every other brick, and, in consequence, weuse for each one ingredients of the same quality and in like amount, andthen subject them all to precisely the same treatment. 

This procedure is well enough in the case of inanimate bricks, but it isfar from well enough in the case of animate, sentient human beings. Itwould be a calamity to have duplicate human beings, and yet thetraditional school seems to be doing its utmost to produce duplicates. Thenative tendencies of one boy impel him toward the realms of nature, but, all heedless of this big fact, we bind him hard and fast to some academicpost with traditional bonds of rules and regulations and then strive tocoerce him into partaking of our traditional pabulum. His inevitablerebellion against this regime we style incorrigibility, or stupidity, andthen by main strength and authority strive to reduce him to submissionand, failing in this, we banish him from the school branded for life. Ourtreatment of this boy is due to the fact that another boy in the school isendowed with other native tendencies and the teacher is striving tofashion both boys in the same mold. 

In striving to inculcate the quality of integrity, wholeness, soundness, rectitude in Sam Brown our aim is to develop this specific boy into thebest Sam Brown possible and not to try to make of him another Harry Smith. We need one best Sam Brown and one best Harry Smith but not two HarrySmiths. If we try to make our Sam Brown into a second Harry Smith, societyis certain to be the loser to the value of Sam Brown. We want to see SamBrown realize all his possibilities to the utmost, for only so will he winintegrity. Better a complete Sam Brown, though only half the size of HarrySmith, than an incomplete Sam Brown of any size. If the native tendenciesof Sam Brown lead toward nature, certain it is that by denying him thestimulus of nature study, we shall restrict his growth and render him lessthan complete. If we would produce a complete Sam Brown, if we would havehim attain integrity, we must see to it that the process of teachingengages all his powers and does not permit some of these powers to liefallow. 

If Sam Brown is a nature boy, no amount of coercion can transform him intoa mathematics boy. True he may, in time, gain proficiency in mathematics, but only if he is led into the field of mathematics through the gateway ofnature. He may ultimately achieve distinction as a writer, but not unlesshis pen becomes facile in depicting nature. Unless his native interestsare taken fully into account and all his powers are enlisted in theenterprise of education toward integrity, he will never become the SamBrown he might have been and the teacher cannot win special comfort in thereflection that she has helped to produce a cripple. We can better affordto depart from the beaten path, and even do violence to the sanctity ofthe course of study, than to lose or deform Sam Brown. If his soul yearnsfor green fields and budding trees, it is cruel if not criminal to fail tocater to this yearning. And only by cultivating and ministering to thisnative disposition can we hope to be of service in aiding him to achieveintegrity. 

It needs to be emphasized that integrity signifies one hundred per cent, nothing less, and that such a goal is quite worth working toward. On thephysical side, the problem looms large before us. Since we can producethoroughbred live stock that scores one hundred per cent, we ought toproduce one hundred per cent men and women. In a great university, physical examinations covering a period of seventeen years discovered onephysically perfect young woman and not one physically perfect young man. Our live stock records make a better showing than this. For years we havebeen quoting "a sound mind in a sound body" in various languages but havefailed in a large degree to achieve sound bodies. Nor, indeed, may we hopeto win this goal until we become aroused to the importance of physicaltraining in its widest import for all young people and not merely for thealready physically fit, who constitute the ball teams. If the child isphysically sound at the age of six, he ought to be no less so at the ageof eighteen. If he is not so, there must have been some blundering in thecourse of his school life, either on the part of the school itself or ofthe home. When we set up physical soundness as the goal of our endeavorsand this ideal becomes enmeshed in the consciousness of all citizens, thenactivities toward this end will inevitably ensue. Physical training willbe made an integral part of the course of study, medical and dentalinspection will obtain both in the school and in the home, insanitaryconditions will no longer be tolerated, intemperance in every form willdisappear, and every child will receive the same careful nurture that wenow bestow upon the prize winners at our live-stock exhibition. Thethinking of people will be intent toward the one hundred per cent standardand, in consequence, they will strive in unison to achieve this goal. 

The large amount of incompleteness that is to be found among the productsof our schools may be traced, in a large measure, to our irrational andfictitious procedure in the matter of grading. We must keep records, ofcourse, but it will be recalled that in the parable of the talents menwere commended or condemned according to the use they made of the talentsthey had and were not graded according to a fixed standard. Seeing thatseventy-five per cent will win him promotion, the boy devotes only so muchof himself to the enterprise as will enable him to attain the goal anddirects the remainder of himself to adventures along the line of hisnative tendencies. The only way by which we can develop a complete SamBrown is so to arrange matters that the whole of Sam Brown is enlisted inthe work. Otherwise we shall have one part of the boy working in onedirection and another part in another direction, and that plan does notmake for completeness. We must enlist the whole boy or we shall fail todevelop a complete boy. If we can find some study to which he will devotehimself unreservedly, then we may well rejoice and can afford to let thetraditional subjects of the course of study wait. We are interested in SamBrown just now and he is far more important than some man-made course ofstudy. We are interested, too, in one hundred per cent of Sam Brown, andnot in three fourths of him. If arithmetic will not enlist all of this boyand nature will enlist all of him, then arithmetic must be held inabeyance in the interest of the whole boy. 

The seventy-five per cent standard is repudiated by the world of affairseven though it is emphasized by the school. Seventy-five per cent ofaccuracy will not do in the transactions of the bank. The accounts mustbalance to the penny. The figures are right or else they are wrong. Thereis no middle ground. In the school the boy solves three problems but failswith the fourth. None the less he wins the goal of promotion. Not so atthe bank. He is denied admission because of his failure with the fourthproblem. Seventy-five will not do in joining the spans of the great bridgeacross the river. We must have absolute accuracy if we would avoid a wreckwith its attendant horrors. The druggist must not fall below one hundredper cent in compounding the prescription unless he would face a charge ofcriminal negligence. The wireless operator must transcribe the messagewith absolute accuracy or dire consequences may ensue. The railway crewmust read the order without a mistake if they would save life and propertyfrom disaster. 

But, in the school, the teachers rejoice and congratulate one another whentheir pupils achieve a grade of seventy-five. It matters nothing, apparently, that this grade of seventy-five is a fictitious thing with nobasis in logic or reason, in short a mere habit that has no justificationsave in tradition, and that, in very truth, it is a concession toinaccuracy and ignorance. When we promote the boy for solving three out offour problems we virtually say to him that the fourth problem isnegligible and he may as well forget all about it. Sometimes a teachergrieves over a grade of seventy-three, never realizing that anotherteacher might have given to that same paper a grade of eighty-three. Weproclaim education to be a spiritual process, and then, in some instances, employ mechanics to administer this process. By what process of reasoningthe superintendent or the teacher arrives at the judgment thatseventy-five is good enough is yet to be explained. Our zeal for gradesand credits indicates a greater interest in the label than in the contentsof the package. 

Teaching is a noble work if only it is directed toward worthy goals. Nothing in the way of human endeavor can be more inspiring than the workof striving to integrate boys and girls. The mere droning over geography, and history, and grammar is petty by comparison. And yet all these studiesand many others may be found essential factors in the work and they willbe learned with greater thoroughness as means to a great end than as endsin themselves. The supply stations take on a new meaning to the boy who isyearning to reach the flag at the top. But it needs to be said here thatthe traditional superintendent and teacher will greet this entire planwith a supercilious smile. They will call it visionary, unpractical, andidealistic--then return to their seventy-five per cent regime with theutmost complacency and self-satisfaction. It is ever so with thetraditional teacher. He seeks to be let alone, that he may go on hiscomplacent way without hindrance. To him every innovation is aninterference, if not a positive impertinence. But, in spite of thetraditional teacher, the school is destined to rise to a higher level andenter upon a more rational procedure. And we must look to the dynamicteacher to usher in the renaissance--the teacher who has the vitality andthe courage to break away from tradition and write integrity into thecourse of study as one of the big goals and think all the while towardintegrity, physical, mental, and moral. 

CHAPTER FIVE

APPRECIATION

Education may be defined as the process of raising the level ofappreciation. This definition will stand the ultimate test. Here isbed-rock; here is the foundation upon which we may predicate appreciationas a goal in every rational system of education. Appreciation has beendefined as a judgment of values, a feeling for the essential worth ofthings, and, as such, it lies at the very heart of real education. It mustbe so or civilization cannot be. Without appreciation there can be nodistinction between the coarse and the fine, none between the high and thelow, none between the beautiful and the ugly, none between the sublime andthe commonplace, none between zenith and nadir. Hence, appreciation isinevitable in every course of study, whether the authorities have thecourage to proclaim it or not. Just why it has not been written into thecourse of study is inexplicable, seeing that it is fundamental in theeducational process. It is far from clear why the superintendent permitsteachers and pupils to go on their way year after year thinking thatarithmetic is their final destination, or why he fails to take thetax-payers into his confidence and explain to them that appreciation isone of the lode-stars toward which the schools are advancing. In his hearthe hopes that the schools may achieve appreciation, and it would be thepart of frankness and fairness for him to reveal this hope to his teachersand to all others concerned. 

It is common knowledge that business affairs do not require more than tenpages of arithmetic and it would seem only fair that the study of theother pages should be justified. These other pages must serve some usefulpurpose in the thinking of those who retain them, and, certainly, no harmwould ensue from a revelation of this purpose. If they are studied as ameans to some high end, they will prove no less important after this facthas been explained. We may need more arithmetic than we have, but it isour due to be informed why we need it; to what use it is to be put. Thesethings we have a right to know, and no superintendent, who is charged withthe responsibility of making the course of study, has a right to withholdthe information. If he does not know the explanation of the course ofstudy he has devised, he ought to make known that fact and throw himself"on the mercy of the court. "

In these days of conservation and elimination of waste every subject thatseeks admission to the course of study should be challenged at the doorand be made to show what useful purpose it is to serve. Nor should anysubject be admitted on any specious pretext. If there are subjects thatare better adapted to the high purposes of education than the ones we arenow using, then, by all means, let us give them a hearty welcome. 

Above all, we should be careful not to retain a subject unless it has amore valid passport than old age to justify its retention. If Chinese willhelp us win the goal of appreciation more effectively than Latin, then, byall means, we should make the substitution. But, in doing so, we mustexercise care not to be carried away by a yearning for novelty. Least ofall should any subject be admitted to the course of study that does nothave behind it something more substantial and enduring than whim orcaprice. 

The subjects that avail in generating and stimulating the growth ofappreciation are many and of great variety. Nor are they all found in theproverbial course of study of the schools. When the boy first really seesan ear of corn from another viewpoint than the economic, he finds iteloquent of the marvelous adaptations of nature. From being a mere ear ofcorn it becomes a revelation of design and beauty. No change has takenplace in the ear of corn, but a most important change has been wrought inthe boy. Such a change is so subtle, so delicate, and so intangible thatit cannot be measured in terms of per cents; but it is no less real forall that. It is a spiritual process and, therefore, aptly illustrates theaccepted definition of education. Though it defies analysis and the ruleof thumb, the boy is conscious of it and can say with the man who was bornblind, "One thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see, " and nocabalistic marks in a grade-book can express the value of the changeindicated by that statement. 

The sluggard deems the sunrise an impertinence because it disturbs hismorning slumber; but such a change may be wrought in him as to cause himto stand in reverence before the very thing he once condemned. Thesunrise, once an affront, is now nothing less than a miracle, and hestands in the sublime presence with uncovered and lowered head. He is areverent witness of the re-birth of the world. An hour ago there wasdarkness; now there is light. An hour ago the world was dead; now it isgloriously alive. An hour ago there was silence; now there is sound ofsuch exquisite quality as to ravish the soul with delight. As the firstbeams of sunlight come streaming over the hills, ten thousand birds joinin a mighty chorus of welcome to the newborn day and the world is floodedwith song; and the whilom sluggard thrills under the spell of the sceneand feels himself a part of the world that is vibrant with music. Can itbe denied that this man is all the better citizen for his ability toappreciate the wonderfulness of a sunrise?

But while we extol and magnify the quality of appreciation, it is well tonote that it cannot be superinduced by any imperial mandate nor does itspring into being at the behest of didacticism. It can be caught but nottaught. Indeed, it is worthy of general observation that the choice thingswhich young people receive from the schools, colleges, and normal schoolsare caught and not taught, however much the teachers may plume themselvesupon their ability to impart instruction. Education, at its best, is aprocess of inoculation. The teacher is an important factor in this processof generating situations that render inoculation far more easy; and weomit one of the most vital things in education when we refer only to theteacher's ability to "impart instruction. " The pupil gets certain thingsin that room, but the teacher does not give them. The teacher's functionis to create situations in which the spirit of the pupil will becomeinoculated with the germs of truth in all its aspects. If he could givethe things that the pupils get, then all would share alike in thedistribution. If the teacher could impart instruction, he certainly wouldnot fail to lift all his pupils over the seventy-five per cent hurdle. 

If instruction or knowledge could be imparted, education would no longerbe a spiritual process but rather one of driving the boy into a corner, imparting such instruction as the teacher might decree and keeping onuntil the point of saturation was reached or the supply of instructionbecame exhausted, when the trick would be done. The process would be assimple as pouring water from one vessel into another. Sometimes theteacher of literature strives to engender appreciation in a pupil byrhapsodizing over some passage. She reads the passage in a frenzy ofsimulated enthusiasm, with a quaver in her voice and moisture in her eyes, only to find, at the end, that her patient has fallen asleep. Appreciationcannot be generated in such fashion. The boy cannot light his torch ofappreciation at a mere phosphorescent glow. There must be heat behind thelight or there can be no ignition. The boy senses the fictitious at onceand cannot react to what he knows to be spurious. Only the genuine can winhis interest. 

Napoleon Bonaparte once said that no one can gaze into the starry sky atnight for five minutes and not believe in the existence of God. But topeople who lack such appreciation the night sky is devoid of significance. There are teachers who never go forth to revel in the glories of thisstar-lit masterpiece of creation, because, forsooth, they are too busygrading papers in literature. Such a teacher is not likely to be the causeof a spiritual ignition in her pupils, for she herself lacks the divinefire of appreciation. If she only possessed this quality no words would beneeded to reveal its presence to the boy; he would know it even as thehoming-pigeon knows its course. When the spirits of teacher and pupilsbecome merged as they must become in all true teaching, the boy will findhimself in possession of this spiritual quality. He knows that he has it, the teacher knows that he has it, and his associates know that he has it, and one and all know that it is well worth having. 

It is related of Keats that in reading Spenser he was thrown into aparoxysm of delight over the expression "sea-shouldering whales. " Thechurl would not give a second thought to the phrase, or, indeed, a firstone; but the man of appreciation finds in it a source of pleasure. ArloBates speaks with enthusiasm of the word "highly" as used in theGettysburg Speech, and the teacher's work reaches a high point ofexcellence when it has given to the pupil such a feeling of appreciationas enables him to discover and rejoice in such niceties of literaryexpression. It widens the horizon of life to him and gives him a deeperand closer sympathy with every form and manifestation of life. Every phaseof life makes an appeal to him, from bird on the wing to rushingavalanche; from the blade of grass to the boundless plains; from theprattle of the child to the word miracles of Shakespeare; from the stableof Bethany to the Mount of Transfiguration. 

Geography lends itself admirably to the development of appreciation if itis well taught. Indeed, to develop appreciation seems to be the primefunction of geography, and the marvel is that it has not been soproclaimed. In this field geography finds a clear justification, and thesuperintendent who sets forth appreciation as the end and geography as themeans is certain to win the plaudits of many people who have long beenwondering why there is so much geography in the present course of study. Certainly no appreciation can develop from the question and answer method, for no spiritual quality can thrive under such deadening conditions. Ifthe questions emanated from the pupils, the situation would be improved, but such is rarely the case. Teaching is, in reality, a transfusion ofspirit, and when this flow of spirit from teacher to pupil is unimpededteaching is at high tide. When the subject is artfully and artisticallydeveloped the effect upon the child is much the same as that of unrollinga great and beautiful picture. The Mississippi River can be taught as agreat drama, from its rise in Lake Itasca to its triumphal entry into theGulf. As it takes its way southward pine forests wave their salutes, thenwheat fields, then corn fields, and, later, cotton fields. Then itstributaries may be seen coming upon the stage to help swell the mightysweep of progress toward the sea. When geography is taught as a drama, appreciation is inevitable. 

The resourceful teacher can find a thousand dramas in the books ongeography if she knows how to interpret the pages of the books, and withthese inspiring dramas she can lift her pupils to the very pinnacle ofappreciation. Such tales are as fascinating as fairy stories and have theadded charm of being true to the teachings of science. A raindrop seems acommon thing, but cast in dramatic form it becomes of rare charm. Itslides from the roof of the house and finds its way into the tiny rivulet, then into the brook, then into the river and thus finally reaches the sea. By the process of evaporation, it is transformed into vapor and is carriedover the land by currents of air. As it comes into contact with coldercurrents, condensation ensues and then precipitation, and our raindropdescends to earth once more. Sinking into the soil at the foot of the treeit is taken up into the tree by capillary attraction, out through thebranches and then into the fruit. Then comes the sunshine to ripen thefruit, and finally this fruit is harvested and borne to the market, whenceit reaches the home. Here it is served at the breakfast table and thecurtain of our drama goes down with our raindrop as orange-juice on thelip of the little girl. 

When we come to realize, in our enlarged vision, the possibilities ofgeography in fostering the quality of appreciation, our teaching of thesubject will be changed and vitalized, our textbooks will be written froma different angle, and our pupils will receive a much larger return upontheir investment of time and effort. The study of geography will be farless like the conning of a gazetteer or a city directory and more like afascinating story. In our astronomical geography we shall make many apleasing excursion into the far spaces and win stimulating glimpses intothe infinities. In our physical geography we shall read marvelous storiesthat outrival the romances of Dumas and Hugo. And geography as a wholewill reveal herself as the cherishing mother of us all, providing us withfood, and drink, and shelter, and raiment, giving us poetry, and song, andstory, and weaving golden fancies for the fabric of our daily dreams. 

And when, at length, through the agency of geography and the other meansat hand, our young people have achieved the endowment of appreciation, life will be for them a fuller and richer experience and they will bebetter fitted to play their parts as intelligent, cultivated men andwomen. The gateways will stand wide open through which they can enter intothe palace of life to revel in all its beauteous splendor. They willreceive a welcome into the friendship of the worthy good and great of allages. When they have gained an appreciation of the real meaning ofliterature, children who have become immortal will cluster about them andnestle close in their thoughts and affections, --Tiny Tim, Little Jo, Little Nell, Little Boy Blue, and Eppie. A visitor in Turner's studio oncesaid to the artist, "Really, Mr. Turner, I can't see in nature the colorsyou portray on canvas. " Whereupon the artist replied, "Don't you wish youcould?" When our pupils gain the ability to read and enjoy the message ofthe artist they will be able to hold communion with Raphael, MichaelAngelo, Murillo, Rembrandt, Rosa Bonheur, Titian, Corot, Andrea del Sarto, Correggio, Fra Angelico, and Ghiberti. In the realms of poetry they willbe able to hold agreeable converse with Shelley, Keats, Southey, Mrs. Browning, Milton, Victor Hugo, Hawthorne, Poe, and Shakespeare. And whenthe great procession of artists, poets, scientists, historians, dramatists, statesmen, and philanthropists file by to greet their gaze, entranced they will be able to applaud. 

CHAPTER SIX

ASPIRATION

Browning says, "'Tis not what man Does which exalts him, but what manWould do. " The boy who has acquired the habit of wishing ardently in rightdirections is well on the way toward becoming educated. For earnestwishing precedes and conditions every achievement that is worthy the name. The man who does not wish does not achieve, and the man who does wish withpersistency and consistency does not fail of achievement. Had Columbus notwished with consuming ardor to circumnavigate the globe, he would neverhave encountered America. The Atlantic cable figured in the dreams andwishes of Cyrus W. Field long before even the preliminaries becamerealities. The wish evermore precedes the blueprint. It required forty-twoyears for Ghiberti to translate his dream into the reality that we know asthe bronze doors of the Baptistry. But had there been no dreams there hadbeen no bronze doors, and the world of art would have been the poorer. Every tunnel that pierces a mountain; every bridge that spans a river;every building whose turrets pierce the sky; every invention that lifts aburden from the shoulders of humanity; every reform that gilds the worldwith the glow of hope, was preceded by a wish whose gossamer strands werewoven in a human brain. The Red Cross of today is but a dream of HenriDunant realized and grown large. 

The student who scans the records of historical achievements and of thetriumphs of art, music, science, literature, and philanthropy must realizethat ardent wishing is the condition precedent to further extension in anyof these lines, and he must be aware, too, that the ranks of wishers mustbe recruited from among the children of our schools. The yearning toachieve is the urge of the divine part of each one of us, and it naturallyfollows that whoever does not have this yearning has been reduced to theplane of abnormality in that the divine part of him has been subordinated, submerged, stifled. Every fervent wish is a prayer that emanates from thisdivine part of us, and, in all reverence, it may be said that we help toanswer our own prayers. When we wish ardently we work earnestly to causeour dreams to come true. We are told that every wish comes true if we onlywish hard enough, and this statement finds abundant confirmation in theexperiences of those who have achieved. 

The child's wishes have their origin and abode in his native interests andwhen we have determined what his wishes are, we have in hand the clue thatwill lead us to the inmost shrine of his native tendencies. This, as hasbeen so frequently said, is the point of attack for all our teaching, thisthe particular point that is most sensitive to educational inoculation. Ifwe find that the boy is eager to have a wireless outfit and is workingwith supreme intensity to crystallize his wish into tangible and workableform, quite heedless of clock hours, it were unkind to the point ofcruelty and altogether unpedagogical to force him away from this congenialtask into some other work that he will do only in a heartless andperfunctory way. If we yearn to have him study Latin, we shall do well tocarry the wireless outfit over into the Latin field, for the boy willsurely follow wherever this outfit leads. But if we destroy the wirelessapparatus, in the hope that we shall thus stimulate his interest in Latin, the scar that we shall leave upon his spirit will rise in judgment againstus to the end of life. The Latin may be desirable and necessary for theboy, but the wireless comes first in his wishes and we must go to theLatin by way of the wireless. 

It is the high privilege of the teacher to make and keep her pupilshungry, to stimulate in them an incessant ardent longing and yearning. This is her chief function. If she does this she will have great occasionto congratulate herself upon her own progress as well as theirs. If theyare kept hungry, the sources of supply will not be able to elude them, forchildren have great facility and resourcefulness in the art of foraging. They readily discover the lurking places of the substantials as well as ofthe tid-bits and the sweets. They easily scent the trail of the food forwhich their spiritual or bodily hunger calls. The boy who yearns for thewireless need not be told where he may find screws, bolts, and hammer. Thegirl who yearns to paint will somehow achieve pigments, brushes, palette, and teachers. Appetite is the principal thing; the rest comes easy. Thehungry child lays the whole world under tribute and cheerfullyappropriates whatever fits into his wishes. If his neighbor a mile distanthas a book for which he feels a craving, the two-mile walk in quest ofthat book is invested with supreme charm, no matter what the weather. Theapple may be hanging on the topmost bough, but the boy who is apple-hungryrecks not of height nor of the labyrinth of hostile branches. He gets theapple. As some one has said, "The soul reaches out for the cloak that fitsit. "

There is nothing more pathetic in the whole realm of school procedure thanthe frantic efforts of some teachers to feed their pupils instead ofstriving to create spiritual hunger. They require pupils to "take" so manyproblems, con so many words of spelling, turn so many pages of a book onhistory, and then have them try to repeat in an agony of effort words froma book that they neither understand nor feel an interest in. The teacherwould feed them whether they have any craving for food or not. Suchteachers seem to be immune to the teachings of psychology and pedagogy;they continue to travel the way their grandparents trod, spurning thepractices of Pestalozzi, Froebel, and Francis Parker. They seem not toknow that their pupils are predatory beings who are quite capable ofransacking creation to get the food for which they feel a craving. Notappreciating the nature of their pupils, they continue the process offeeding and stuffing them and thus fall into the fatal blunder ofmistaking distention for education. 

Ruth McEnery Stuart has set out this whole matter most lucidly andcogently in her volume entitled _Sonny_. In this story the boy had fourteachers who took no account of his aspirations and natural tendencies, but insisted upon feeding him traditional food by traditional methods. Tothem it mattered not that he was unlike other boys. What was suitable forthem must be equally suitable for him. The story goes that a certainschool-master was expounding the passage "Be ye pure in heart. " Turning tothe boys he exclaimed, "Are you pure in heart? If you're not, I'll flogyou till you are. " So with Sonny's four teachers. If he had no appetitefor their kind of food, they'd feed it to him till he had. But when theappetite failed to come as the result of their much feeding, they banishedhim to outer darkness with epithets expressive of their disappointment anddisgust. They washed their hands of him and were glad to be rid of him. 

His next teacher, however, was different. She sensed his unlikeness toother boys and knew, instinctively, that his case demanded and deservedspecial treatment. She consulted his aspirations and appraised his nativetendencies. In doing so, she discovered an embryo naturalist and thusbecame aware of the task to which she must address herself. So she spreadher nets for all living and creeping things, for the beasts of the forest, the birds of the air, for plants, and flowers, and stones, --in short, forall the works of nature. In name she was his teacher, but in reality shewas his pupil, and his other four teachers might have become members ofthe class with rich profit to themselves. In his examination forgraduation the boy utterly confounded and routed the members of theexamining committee by the profundity and breadth of his knowledge andthey were glad to check his onslaught upon the ramparts of their ignoranceby awarding him a diploma. 

It devolves upon the superintendent and teachers, therefore, to determinewhat studies already in the schools or what others that may be introducedwill best serve the purpose of fostering aspiration. They cannot deny thatthis quality is an essential element in the spiritual composition of everywell-conditioned child as well as of every rightly constituted man andwoman. For aspiration means life, and the lack of aspiration means death. The man who lacks aspiration is static, dormant, lifeless, inert; the manwho has aspiration is dynamic, forceful, potent, regnant. Aspiration isthe animating power that gives wings to the forces of life. It is themotive power that induces the currents of life. The man who has aspirationyearns to climb to higher levels, to make excursions into the realms thatlie beyond his present horizon, and to traverse the region that liesbetween what he now is and what he may become. It is the dove that goesforth from the ark to make discovery of the new lands that beckon. 

In a former book the author tried to set forth the influence of the poetin generating aspiration, and in this attempt used the following words:"When he would teach men to aspire he writes _Excelsior_ and so causesthem to know that only he who aspires really lives. They see thegroundling, the boor, the drudge, and the clown content to dwell in thevalley amid the loaves and fishes of animal desires, while the man whoaspires is struggling toward the heights whence he may gain an outlookupon the glories that are, know the throb and thrill of new life, andexperience the swing and sweep of spiritual impulses. He makes them toknow that the man who aspires recks not of cold, of storm, or of snow, ifonly he may reach the summit and lave his soul in the glory that crownsthe marriage of earth and sky. They feel that the aspirant is but yieldingobedience to the behests of his better self to scale the heights wheresublimity dwells. "

It were useless for teachers to pooh-pooh this matter as visionary andinconsequential or to disregard aspiration as a vital factor in the schemeof education. This quality is fundamental and may not, therefore, beeither disregarded or slurred. Fundamental qualities must engage thethoughtful attention of all true educators, for these fundamentals mustconstitute the ground-work of every reform in our school procedure. Therecan be life without arithmetic, but there can be no real life withoutaspiration. It points to higher and fairer levels of life and impels itspossessor onward and upward. This needs to be fully recognized by theschools that would perform their high functions worthily, and no teachercan with impunity evade this responsibility. Somehow, we must contrive toinstill the quality of aspiration into the lives of our pupils if we wouldacquit ourselves of this obligation. To do less than this is to convictourselves of stolidity or impotence. 

Chief among the agencies that may be made to contribute generously in thishigh enterprise is history, or more specifically, biography, which isquintessential history. A boy proceeds upon the assumption that what hasbeen done may be done again and, possibly, done even better. When he readsof the beneficent achievements of Edison he becomes fired with zeal toequal if not surpass these achievements. Obstacles do not daunt the boywho aspires. Everything becomes possible in the light and heat of hiszeal. Since Edison did it, he can do it, and no amount of discouragementcan dissuade him from his lofty purpose. He sets his goal high and marchestoward it with dauntless courage. If a wireless outfit is his goal, bellsmay ring and clocks may strike, but he hears or heeds them not. 

To be effective the teaching of history must be far more than the meredroning over the pages of a book. It must be so vital that it will set thecurrents of life in motion. In his illuminating report upon the schools ofDenmark, Mr. Edwin G. Cooley quotes Bogtrup on the teaching of history asfollows: "History does not mean books and maps; it is not to be dividedinto lessons and gone through with a pointer like any other paltry schoolsubject. History lies before our eyes like a mighty and turbulent ocean, into which the ages run like rivers. Its rushing waves bring to ourlistening ears the sound of a thousand voices from the olden time. Withour pupils we stand on the edge of a cliff and gaze over this great sea;we strive to open their eyes to its power and beauty; we point out thelaws of the rise and fall of the waves, and of the strong under-currents. We strive by poetic speech to open their ears to the voices of the seawhich in our very blood run through the veins from generation togeneration, and, humming and singing, echo in our innermost being. "

Such teaching of history as is here portrayed will never fall upon dullears or unresponsive spirits. It will thrill the youth with a consumingdesire to be up and doing. He will ignite at touch of the living fire. Hissoul will become incandescent and the glow will warm him into nobleaction. He yearns to emulate the triumphs of those who have preceded himon the stage of endeavor. If he reads "The Message to Garcia" he feelshimself pulsating with the zeal to do deeds of valor and heroism. Whetherthe records deal with Clara Barton, Nathan Hale, Frances Willard, Mrs. Stowe, Columbus, Lincoln, William the Silent, Erasmus, or Raphael, ifthese people are present as vital entities the young people will thrillunder the spell of the entrancing stories. Then will history and biographycome into their own as means to a great end, and then will aspiration takeits rightful place as one of the large goals in the scheme of education. As Browning says, "A man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's aheaven for?" and again:

 What I aspired to be And was not, comforts me. 

CHAPTER SEVEN

INITIATIVE

No one who gives the matter thoughtful consideration will ever deprecateor disparage the possession of the virtue of obedience; but, on the otherhand, no such thoughtful person will attempt to deny that this virtue, desirable as it is, may be fostered and emphasized to such a degree thatits possessor will become a mere automaton. And this is bad; indeed, verybad. We extol obedience, to be sure, but not the sort of blind, unthinkingobedience that will reduce its possessor to the status of the mechanicaltoy which needs only to be wound up and set going. The factorysuperintendent is glad to have men about him who are able to workefficiently from blueprints; but he is glad, also, to have men about himwho can dispense with blueprints altogether or can make their own. Thedifference between these two types of operatives spells the differencebetween leadership and mere blind, automatic following. Were all theworkers in the factory mere followers, the work would be stereotyped andthe factory would be unable to compete with the other factory, whereinitiative and leadership obtain. 

One psychologist avers that ninety per cent of our education comes throughimitation; but, even so, it is quite pertinent to inquire into theremaining ten per cent. Conceding that we adopt our styles of wearingapparel at the behest of society; that we fashion and furnish our homes inconformity to prevailing customs; that we permit press and pulpit toformulate for us our opinions and beliefs; in short, that we are imitatorsup to the full ninety per cent limit, it still must seem obvious to theclose observer that the remaining ten per cent has afforded us a vastnumber and variety of improvements that tend to make life more agreeable. This ten per cent has substituted the modern harvester for the sickle andcradle with which our ancestors harvested their grain; it has brought usthe tractor for the turning of the soil in place of the primitive plow; ithas enabled us to use the auto-truck in marketing our products instead ofthe ox-teams of the olden times; it has brought us the telegraph andtelephone with which to send the message of our desires across far spaces;and it has supplied us with conveniences and luxuries that ourgrandparents could not imagine even in their wildest fancies. 

A close scrutiny will convince even the most incredulous that manyteachers and schools arc doing their utmost, in actual practice if not intheory, to eliminate the ten per cent margin and render their pupilsimitators to the full one hundred per cent limit. We force the children totravel our standard pedagogical tracks and strive to fashion and fix themin our standard pedagogical molds. And woe betide the pupil who jumps thetrack or shows an inclination to travel a route not of the teacher'schoosing! He is haled into court forthwith and enjoined to render a strictaccounting for his misdoing; for anything that is either less or more thana strict conformity to type is accounted a defection. We demand absoluteobedience to the oracular edicts of the school as a passport to favor. Conformity spells salvation for the child and, in the interests of peace, he yields, albeit grudgingly, to the inevitable. 

In world affairs we deem initiative a real asset, but one of the saddestof our mistakes in ordering school activities consists in our fervidattempts to prove that the school is detached from life and somethingquite apart from the world. We would have our pupils believe that, whenthey are in school, they are neither in nor of the world. At ourcommencement exercises we tell the graduates that they are now passingacross a threshold out into the world; that they are now entering into therealms of real life; and that on the morrow they will experience theinitial impact of practical life. These time-worn expressions passcurrent, at face value, among enthusiastic relatives and friends, butthere are those in the audience who know them to be the veriest cant, withno basis either in logic or in common sense. It is nothing short offoolishness to assert that a young person must attain the age of eighteenyears before he enters real life. The child knows that his home is a partof the world and an element in life, that the grocery is another part, thepost-office still another part, and so on through an almost endless list. Equally well does he know that the school is a part of life, because itenters into his daily experiences the same as the grocery and thepost-office. Full well does he know that he is not outside of life when heis in school, and no amount of sophistry can convince him otherwise. Ifthe school is not an integral part of the world and of life, so much theworse for the school and, by the same token, so much the worse for theteacher. Either the school is a part of the world or else it is neither areal nor a worthy school. 

The hours which the child spends in school are quite as much a part of hislife as any other portion of the day, no matter what activities the schoolprovides, and we do violence to the facts when we assume or argueotherwise. Here is a place for emphasis. Here is the rock on which many apedagogical bark has suffered shipwreck. We become so engrossed in themechanics of our task--grades, tests, examinations, and promotions--thatwe lose sight of the fact that we are dealing with real life in asituation that is a part of the real world. The best preparation for lifeis to practice life aright, and this is the real function of the school. If teachers only could or would give full recognition to this simple, opentruth, there would soon ensue a wide departure from some of our presentmechanized methods. But so long as we cling to the traditional notion thatschool is detached from real life, so long shall we continue to pursue ourmerry-go-round methods. If we could fully realize that we are teachinglife by the laboratory method, many a vague and misty phase of our workwould soon become clarified. 

Seeing, then, that the school is a cross-section of life, it follows, naturally, that it embodies the identical elements that constitute life asa whole. We all know, by experience, that life abounds in vicissitudes, discouragements, trials, and obstacles, and the school, being a part ofreal life, must furnish forth the same elements even if of less magnitude. There are obstacles, to be sure, and there should be. Abraham Lincoln oncesaid, "When you can't remove an obstacle, plow around it. " But teachersare prone to remove the obstacles from the pathway of their pupils whenthey should be training them to surmount these obstacles or, failing thatfor the time being, to plow around them. It is far easier, however, forthe teacher to solve the problem for the boy than to stimulate him tosolve it independently. If we would train the boy to leap over hurdles, wemust supply the hurdles and not remove them from his path. Still further, we must elevate the hurdles, by easy gradations, if we would increase theboy's powers and prowess. 

Professor Edgar James Swift says, "Man expends just energy enough tosatisfy the demands of the situation in which he is placed. " Thisstatement is big with meaning for all who have a true conception ofpedagogy and of life. In this sentence we see the finger-board that pointstoward high achievements in teaching. If the hurdles are too low, the boybecomes flaccid, flabby, sluggish, and lethargic. The hurdles should bejust high enough to engage his full strength, physical, mental, and moral. They should ever be a challenge to his best efforts. But they should neverbe so high that they will invite discouragement, disaster, and failure. The teacher should guard against elevating hurdles as an exhibition of herown reach. The gymnasium is not a stage for exhibitions. On the contrary, it is a place for graduated, cumulative training. 

Our inclination is to make life easy and agreeable to our pupils ratherthan real. To this end we help them over the difficulties, answerquestions which they do not ask, and supply them with crutches when weshould be training them to walk without artificial aids. The passing markrather than real training seems to be made the goal of our endeavors evenif we enfeeble the child by so doing. We seem to measure our success bythe number of promotions and not by the quality of the training we give. We seem to be content to produce weaklings if only we can push themthrough the gateway of promotion. It matters not that they are unable tofind their way alone through the mazes of life; let them acquire thatability later, after they have passed beyond our control. Again quotingfrom Professor Swift, "Following a leader, even though that leader be theteacher, tends to take from children whatever latent ability forinitiative they may have. "

There is a story of an indulgent mother who was quite eager that her boyshould have a pleasant birthday and so asked him what he would most liketo do. The answer came in a flash: "Thank you, Mother, I should most likejust to be let alone. " This answer leads us at once to the inner sanctuaryof childhood. Children yearn to be let alone and must grow restive underthe incessant attentions of their elders. In school there is ever such acontinuous fusillade of questions and answers, assigning of lessons, recitations, corrections, explanations, and promulgations, rules andrestrictions that the children have no time for growing inside. They arenot left to their own devices but are pulled and pushed about, andmanaged, and coddled or coerced all day long, so that there is neithertime nor scope for the exercise and development of initiative. Theteacher, at times, seems to think of the school as a mammoth syringe withwhich she is called upon to pump information into her bored but passivepupils. 

Silence is the element in which initiative thrives, but our schoolprograms rarely provide any periods of silence. They assume that to beeffective a school must be a place of bustle, and hurry, and excitement, not to mention entertainment. Sometimes the child is intent uponexplorations among the infinities when the teacher summons him back toearth to cross a _t_ or dot an _i_. The teacher who would implant athought-germ in the minds of her pupils and then allow fifteen minutes ofsilence for the process of germination, should be ranked as an excellentteacher. When the child is thinking out things for himself the process isfavorable to initiative; but when the teacher directs his every movement, thought, and impulse, she is repressing the very quality that makes forinitiative and ultimate leadership. When the boy would do some things onhis own, the teacher is striving to force him to travel in her groove. 

Henderson well says: "We do not invariably cultivate initiative by lettingchildren alone, but in nine cases out of ten it is a highly effectivemethod. In our honest desire for their betterment, the temptation isalways to jump in and to do for them, when we would much better keep handsoff, and allow them, under favorable conditions, to do for themselves. They may do something which, from an objective point of view, is much lessexcellent than our own well-considered plan. But education is not anobjective process. It is subjective and was wrapped up in the funnyblundering little enterprise of the child, rather than in our ownintrusive one. " The crude product of the boy's work in manual training isfar better for him and for the whole process of education than thefinished product of the teacher's skill which sometimes passes for theboy's own work. Some manual training teachers have many a sin charged totheir account in this line that stands in dire need of forgiveness. 

There are many worthy enterprises through which initiative may befostered. Prominent among these are some of the home and school projectsthat are in vogue. These projects, when wisely selected with reference tothe child's powers and inclination, give scope for the exercise ofingenuity, resourcefulness, perseverance, and unhampered thinking andacting. Besides, some of the by-products are of value, notablyself-reliance and self-respect. A child yearns to play a thinking part inthe drama of life and not the part of a marionette or jumping-jack thatmoves only when someone pulls the string. He yearns to be an entity andnot a mere echo. Paternalism, in our school work, does not make forself-reliance, and, therefore, is to be deplored. There is small hope forthe child without initiative, who is helped over every slightest obstacle, and who acquires the habit of calling for help whenever he encounters adifficulty. 

Here we have ample scope for the problem element in teaching and we arerecreant to our opportunities and do violence to child-nature if we failto utilize this method. We are much given to the analytic in our teaching, whereas the pupil enjoys the synthetic. He yearns to make things. Constructing problems in arithmetic, or history, or physics makes aspecial appeal to him and we do violence to his natural bent if we fail toaccord him the opportunity. We can send him in quest of dramaticsituations in the poem, or derivatives in his reading lesson, set himthinking of the construction of farm buildings or machinery, or lead himto seek the causes that led up to events in history. In brief, we canappeal to his curiosity and intelligence and so engage the intensestinterest of the whole boy. 

A school girl assumed the task of looking after all the repairs in the wayof plumbing in the home and, certainly, was none the worse for theexperience. She is now a dentist and has achieved distinction both at homeand abroad in her chosen profession. She gained the habit of meetingdifficult situations without abatement of dignity or refinement. Theschool, at its best, is a favorable situation for self-education and thewise teacher will see to it that it does not decline from this high plane. Only so will its products be young men and women who need no leadingstrings, who can find their way about through the labyrinth of life andnot be abashed. They are the ones to whom we must look for leadership inall the enterprises of life, for they have learned how to initiate workand carry it through to success. That school will win distinction whichmakes initiative one of its big goals and is diligent in causing theactivities of the pupils to reach upward toward the achievement of thisend. 

We may well conclude with a quotation from Dr. Henry van Dyke: "The merepursuit of knowledge is not necessarily an emancipating thing. There is akind of reading which is as passive as massage. There is a kind of studywhich fattens the mind for examination like a prize pig for a county fair. No doubt the beginning of instruction must lie chiefly in exercises ofperception and memory. But at a certain point the reason and the judgmentmust be awakened and brought into voluntary play. As a teacher I would farrather have a pupil give an incorrect answer in a way which showed that hehad really been thinking about the subject, than a literally correctanswer in a way which showed that he had merely swallowed what I had toldhim, and regurgitated it on the examination paper. "

CHAPTER EIGHT

IMAGINATION

In his very stimulating book, _Learning and Doing_, Professor Swift quotesfrom a business man as follows: "Modern business no longer waits for mento qualify after promotion. Through anticipation and prior preparationevery growing man must be largely ready for his new job when it comes tohim. I find very few individuals make any effort to think out better waysof doing things. They do not anticipate needs, do not keep themselvesfresh at the growing point. If ever they had any imagination they seem tohave lost it, and imagination is needed in a growing business, for it isthrough the imagination that one anticipates future changes and soprepares for them before they come. Accordingly, as a general proposition, the selection of a man for a vacancy within the organization is more orless a matter of guesswork. Now and then an ambitious, wide-awake youngman works into the organization and in a very short time is spotted byvarious department managers for future promotion, but the number of suchindividuals is discouragingly small. The difficulty with which we arealways confronted is that our business grows faster than do those withinit. The men do not keep up with our changes. The business grows away fromthem, and quite reluctantly the management is frequently compelled to gooutside for necessary material. We need, at the present time, four or fivesubordinate chiefs in various parts of the factory and I can fill none ofthe positions satisfactorily from material in hand. "

This business man, unconsciously perhaps, puts his finger upon one of theweak places in our school procedure. He convicts us of stifling andrepressing the imagination of our pupils. For it is a matter of commonknowledge that every normal child is endowed with a vivid imagination whenhe enters school. No one will challenge this statement who has enteredinto the heart of childhood through the gateway of play. He has seen a ragdoll invested with all the graces of a princess; he has seen empty spoolstake on all the attributes of the railway train; and he has seen thechild's world peopled with entities of which the unimaginative personcannot know. Children revel in the lore of fairyland, and in this realmnothing seems impossible to them. Their toys are the material which theirimagination uses in building new and delightful worlds for them. If thisimagination is unimpaired when they become grown-ups, these toys arecalled ideals, and these ideals are the material that enter into the livesof poets, artists, inventors, scientists, orators, statesmen, andreformers. If the child lacks this quality at the end of his school life, the school must be held responsible, at least in part, and so must facethe charge of doing him an irreparable injury. It were better by far forthe child to lose a leg or an arm somewhere along the school way than tolose his imagination. Better abandon the school altogether if it tends toquench the divine fire of imagination. Better still, devise some plan ofso reconstructing the work of the school that we shall forever forestallthe possibility of producing a generation of spiritual cripples. 

The business man already quoted gives to the schools their cue. He showsthe need of imagination in practical affairs and, by implication, showsthat the school has been recreant to its opportunities in the way ofstimulating this requisite quality. We must be quite aware that the menand women who have done things as well as those who are doing things havehad or have imagination. Otherwise no achievements would be set down totheir credit. It is the very acme of unwisdom to expect our pupils toaccomplish things and then take from them the tools of their craft. Imagination is an indispensable tool, and the teacher assumes a graveresponsibility who either destroys or blunts it. Unless the schoolpromotes imagination it is not really a school, seeing that it omits fromits plans and practices this basic quality. Too much emphasis cannot belaid upon this patent truth, nor can we deplore too earnestly the tendencyof many teachers to strangle imagination. 

We all recognize C. Hanford Henderson as one of our most fertile and sanewriters on educational themes and we cannot do better just here than toquote, even at some length, from his facile pen: "To say of man or womanthat they have no imagination is to convict them of many actual andpotential sins. Such a defect means obtuseness in manners and morals, sterility in arts and science, blundering in the general conduct of life. Children are often accused of having too much imagination, but in realitythat is hardly possible. The imagination may run riot, and, growing bywhat it feeds upon, come dangerously near to untruthfulness, --the store offacts may have been too small. But the remedy is not to cripple or killthe imagination; it is rather to provide the needed equipment of facts andto train the imagination to work within the limits of truth andprobability. The unimaginative man is exceedingly dull company. From themoment he opens his eyes in the morning until he closes them at night, heis prone to the sins of both omission and commission. No matter how goodhis intentions, he constantly offends. No matter how great his industry, he fails to attain. One can trace many immoralities, from slight breachesof manners to grave criminal offenses, to a simple lack of imagination. The offender failed to see, --he was, to all intents and purposes, blind. At its best, imagination is insight. It is the direct source of most ofour social amenities, of toleration, charity, consideration, --in a word, of all those social virtues which distinguish the child of light. " Anotherfertile writer says: "Many a child has been driven with a soul-wound intocorroding silence by parents who thought they were punishing falsehoodwhen they were in reality repressing the imagination--the faculty whichmaster-artists denote as the first and loveliest possession of thecreative mind. "

Some of our boys will be farmers but, if they lack imagination, they willbe dull fellows, at the very best, and, relatively speaking, not far abovethe horse that draws the plow. The girls will be able to talk, but if theylack imagination they can never become conversationalists. The person whohas imagination can cause the facts of the multiplication table toscintillate and glow. The person who lacks imagination is unable to investwith interest and charm even the mountain, the river, the landscape, orthe poem. The gossip, the scandal-monger, or the coarse jester proves hislack of imagination and his consequent inability to hold his own in realconversation. We hope, of course, that some of our pupils may becomeinventors, but this will be impossible unless they possess imagination. Asociologist states the case in this fashion: "Wealth, the transient, ismaterial; achievement, the enduring, is immaterial. The products ofachievement are not material things at all. They are not ends, but means. They are methods, ways, devices, arts, systems, institutions. In a word, they are _inventions_. " In short, to say that one is an inventor is butanother way of saying that he has imagination. 

It is one thing to know facts but quite another thing to know thesignificance of facts. And imagination is the alembic that discovers thesignificance of the facts. A thousand men of England knew the factstouching the life and education of the children of that country, but thefacts remained mere facts until the imagination of Dickens interpretedthem and thus emancipated childhood from the thralldom of ignorance andcruelty. A thousand men knew the fact touching the steam that issues fromthe tea-kettle, but not until Watts discovered the significance of thefact did the tea-kettle become the precursor of the steam-engine that hastransformed civilization. It required the imagination of Newton tointerpret the falling of the apple and to cause this simple, common factto lead on to the discovery of the great truth of gravitation. Had Galileolacked imagination, the chandelier might have kept on swinging but thediscovery of the rotation of the earth would certainly have beenpostponed. 

In this view of the matter we can see one of the weaknesses of some of thework in our colleges as well as in other schools. The teachers are fertilein arriving at facts, but seem to think their tasks completed with thesediscoveries and so proclaim the discovery of facts to be education. Itmatters not that the facts are devoid of significance to their students, they simply proceed to the discovery of more facts. They combine two ormore substances in a test-tube and thus produce a new substance. This factis solemnly inscribed in a notebook and the incident is closed. But thestudent who has imagination and industry inquires "What then?" andproceeds with investigations on his own initiative that result in apositive boon to humanity. Imagination takes the facts and makes somethingof them, while the college teacher has disclosed his inability to copewith his own students in fields that only imagination can renderproductive. 

To quote Henderson once again: "In most of our current education, insteadof cultivating so valuable a quality, we have stupidly done all that wecan to suppress it. We have not sufficiently studied the actual boy beforeus to find out what he is up to, and what end he has in mind. On thecontrary, we proclaim, with curious indifference, some end of our owndevising, and with what really amounts to spiritual brutality, we try todrive him towards it. We do this, we irresponsible parents and teachers, because we ourselves lack imagination, and do not see that we areblunting, instead of sharpening, our human tool. Yet we define educationin terms of imagination when we say that education is the unfolding andperfecting of the human spirit; or, that education is a setting-up in theheart of the child of a moral and æsthetic revelation of the universe; forthe human spirit which we are trying to establish is not a fact, but agracious possibility of the future. "

Happy is the child whose teacher possesses imagination; who can touch thecommon things of life with the magic wand of her fancy and invest themwith supreme charm; who can peer into the future with her pupils and helpthem translate the bright dreams of today into triumphs in the realms ofart, music, science, philosophy, language, and philanthropy; and whobuilds air-castles of her own and thus has the skill to help the childrenbuild theirs. It is not easy, if, indeed, it is possible, for the teacherto quicken imagination in her pupils unless she herself is endowed withthis animating quality. Dr. Henry van Dyke puts the case thus: "I care notwhether a man is called a tutor, an instructor, or a full professor; norwhether any academic degrees adorn his name; nor how many facts or symbolsof facts he has stored away in his brain. If he has these fourpowers--clear sight, quick imagination, sound reason, strong will--I callhim an educated man and fit to be a teacher. " And, of a surety, imagination is not the least of these. 

To this end every teacher should use every means possible to keep herimagination alive and luxuriant, and never, on any account, permit theexigencies of her task to repress it. The success of her pupils dependsupon her, and she should strive against stagnation as she would againstdeath. The passing out, the evaporation of imagination is an insidiousprocess, and when it is gone she is but a barren fig-tree. If herimagination is strong and healthy she cannot have a poor school and herpupils will bless her memory throughout the years. As applying to everygrade of school we may well note the words of Van Dyke: "Every trueuniversity should make room in its scheme for life out-of-doors. There ismuch to be said for John Milton's plan of a school whose pupils should gotogether each year on long horseback journeys and sailing cruises to seethe world. Walter Bagehot said of Shakespeare that he could not walk downa street without knowing what was in it. John Burroughs has a college on alittle farm beside the Hudson; and John Muir has a university calledYosemite. If such men cross a field or a thicket they see more than theseven wonders of the world. That is culture. And without it, allscholastic learning is arid, and all the academic degrees known to man arebut china oranges hang on a dry tree. " And without imagination this typeof culture is impossible. 

All reforms and, indeed, all progress depend upon imagination. We must beable to picture the world as it ought to be before we can set on footplans for betterment. It is the high province of the imagination to enterinto the feelings and aspirations of others and so be able to lend a hand;to build a better future out of the materials of the present; to soarabove the solemnities and conventions of tradition and to smile whilesoaring; to see the invisible and touch the intangible; and to see thethings that are not and call them forth as realities. Seeing that thebusiness man, the fertile-brained essayist, and the gifted poet agree inextolling the potential value of imagination, we have full warrant foraccording to it an honored place in the curriculum of the school. Too longhas it been an incidental minor; it is now high time to advance it to therank of a major. 

CHAPTER NINE

REVERENCE

At the basis of reverence is respect; and reverence is respect amplifiedand sublimated. A boy must be either dull or heedless who can look at abird sailing in the air for five minutes and not become surcharged withcuriosity to know how it can do it. His curiosity must lead him to anexamination of the wing of a bird, and his scrutiny will reveal it as amarvelous bit of mechanism. The adjustment and overlapping of the featherswill convince him that it presents a wonderful design and a no lesswonderful adaptation of means to ends. He sees that when the bird ispoised in the air the wing is essentially air-tight and that when the birdelects to ascend or descend the feathers open a free passage for the air. Even a cursory examination of the bird's wing must persuade the boy that, with any skill he might attain, he could never fabricate anything sowonderful. This knowledge must, in the nature of things, beget a feelingof respect, and thereafter, whenever the boy sees a bird, he willexperience a resurgence of this feeling. 

Some one has said, "Everything is infinitely high that we can't see over, "and because the boy comes to know that he cannot duplicate the bird's wingit becomes infinitely high or great to him and so wins his respect. To theboy who has been taught to think seriously, the mode of locomotion of aworm or a snake is likewise a marvel, and he observes it with awe. The boywho treads a worm underfoot gives indisputable evidence that he has nevergiven serious thought to its mode of travel. Had he done so, he wouldnever commit so ruthless an act. The worm would have won his respect byits ability to do a thing at which he himself would certainly fail. Hesees the worm scaling the trunk of a tree with the greatest ease, but whenhe essays the same task he finds it a very difficult matter. So he tipshis cap figuratively to the worm and, in boyish fashion, admits that it isthe better man of the two. And never again, unless inadvertently, will hecrush a worm. Even a snake he will kill only in what he conceives to beself-defense. 

An American was making his first trip to Europe. On the way between theAzores and Gibraltar the ship encountered a storm of great violence. Foran hour or more the traveler stood on the forward deck, watching thetitanic struggle, feeling the ship tremble at each impact of the waves, and hearing the roar that only a storm at sea can produce. Upon returningto his friends he said, "Never again can I speak flippantly of the ocean;never again can I use the expression, 'crossing the pond. ' The sea is toovast and too sublime for that. " He had achieved reverence. Many a child inschool can spell the name of the ocean and give a book definition ratherglibly, who, nevertheless, has not the faintest conception of what anocean really is. The tragedy of the matter is that the teacher gives him aperfect mark for his parrot-like definition and spelling and leaves him incrass ignorance of the reality. The boy deals only with the husk andmisses the kernel. When he can spell and define, the work has only justbegun, and not until the teacher has contrived to have him emotionalizethe ocean will he enter into the heart of its greatness, and power, andutility in promoting life, and so come to experience a feeling of respectfor it. When it has won his respect he can read Victor Hugo's matchlessdescription of the sea with understanding, measurable appreciation, and, certainly, a thrill of delight. 

It is rare fun for children, and even for grown-ups, to locate theconstellations, planets, and stars. Of course, the North Star iseverybody's favorite because it is so steady, so reliable, so dependable. We know just where to find it, and it never disappoints us. Two boys whoonce were crossing from New York to Naples found great delight in a starin the Southern sky that retained its relative position throughout thejourney. At the conclusion of dinner in the evening the boys were wont torepair to the deck to find their star and receive its greetings. In theirpassage through the Mediterranean they became curious, wondering how itcame about that the star failed to change its relative position in theirjourney of three thousand miles. When they realized that their star is theapex of a triangle whose base is three thousand miles but whose other legsare so long that the base is infinitesimally short by comparison, theiramazement knew no bounds and for the first time in their lives they gaineda profound respect for space. 

This new concept of space was worth the trip across the ocean to thoseboys, and the wonder is that space had never before meant anything more orother than a word to be spelled. The school and the home had had boundlessopportunities to inculcate in them a sense of space, yet this delightfultask was left to a passenger on board the ship. But for his kindly officesthose boys might have gone on for years conceiving of space as merely aword of five letters. It would have been easy for parent or teacher toengender in them some appreciation of space by explaining to them that ifthey were to travel thirty miles a day it would require twenty-two yearsto reach the moon, --which is, in reality, our next-door neighbor, --andthat to reach the sun, at the same rate of travel, would require more thaneight thousand years, or the added lifetimes of almost three hundredgenerations. But they were sent abroad to see the wonders of the Old Worldwith no real conception of space and, therefore, no feeling of respect forit. Before their trip abroad they never could have read the last twoverses of the eighth chapter of Romans with any real appreciation. 

Still our schools go on their complacent way, teaching words, words, wordsthat are utterly devoid of meaning to the pupils, and, sad to relate, seemto think their mission accomplished. The pupils are required to spellwords, define words, write words, and parse words day after day as ifthese words were lifeless and meaningless blocks of wood to be merelytossed up and down and moved hither and thither. So soon as a word becomesinstinct with life and meaning, it kindles the child's interest at itsevery recurrence and it becomes as truly an entity as a person. It is thenendowed with attributes that distinguish it clearly from its fellows andbecomes, to the child, a vivid reality in the scheme of life. To our twoboys every star that meets their gaze conjures up a host of memories andhelps to renew their spiritual experience and widen their horizon. Spaceis a reality, to them, a mighty reality, and they cannot think of itwithout a deep sense of respect. 

There are people of mature years who have never given to their hands aclose examination. Such an examination will disclose the fact that thehand is an instrument of marvelous design. It will be seen that thefingers all differ in length but, when they grasp an orange or a ball, itwill be noted that they are conterminous--that the ends form a straightline. This gives them added purchase and far greater power of resistance. Were they of equal length the pressure upon the ball would be distributedand it could be wrested from the grasp far more readily. No mechanicalcontrivance has ever been designed that is comparable to the hand inflexibility, deftness, adaptability, or power of prehension. It can pickup a needle or a cannon-ball at will. Its touch is as light as a featheror as stark as a catapult. It can be as gentle as mercy or as harsh asbattle. It can soothe to repose or rouse to fury. It can express itself inthe gentle zephyr or in the devastating whirlwind. Its versatility isaltogether worthy of notice, and we may well hold the lesson in history inabeyance, for the nonce, while we inculcate due respect for the hand. Forno one can contemplate his hand for five minutes and not gain for it afeeling of profound respect. 

What is true of the hand is true of the whole human body. This is the veryacme of created things; this is God's masterpiece. How any one can fail torespect such a wonderful piece of work is beyond explanation. The processof walking or of breathing must hold the thoughtful person enthralled andenchanted. But, strange as it may seem, there are those who seem not torealize in what a marvelous abode their spirits have their home. Suchscant respect do they have for their bodies that they defile them andtreat them with shameless ignominy. They saturate them with poisons andvulgarize them with unseemly practices. They seem to regard them as mereproperty to be used or abused at pleasure and not temples to be honored. The man who does not respect his own body can feel no respect or reverencefor its Creator nor for the soul that dwells within it. Such a man lacksself-respect and self-respect is the fertile soil in which many virtuesflourish. The teaching of physiology that fails to generate a feeling ofdeep respect for the human body is not the sort of teaching that shouldobtain in our schools. 

Again, a person who is possessed of fine sensibilities sees in the appletree in full bloom a creation of transcendant beauty and charm. The poetcannot describe it, nor can the artist reproduce it. It is both a mysteryand a miracle. Into this miracle nature has poured her lavish treasures offertility, of rain, of sunshine, and of zephyrs, and from it at the zenithof its beauty the full-throated robin pours forth his heart in melodiousgreeting. It may be well to dismiss the school to see the circus parade, but even more fitting is it to dismiss the school to see this burst ofsplendor. In its glorious presence silence is the only language that isbefitting. In such a presence sound is discord, for such enchantment as itbegets cannot be made articulate. Its influence steals into the senses andlifts the spirit up. To defile or despoil such beauty would be todesecrate a shrine. But the sordid man sees in this symphony of colornothing else than a promise of fruit. His response is wholly physical, notspiritual at all. His spiritual sense seems atrophied and he can donothing but estimate the bushels of fruit. He feels no respect for thebeauty before him and it is evident that somewhere along the line hisspiritual education was neglected. He excites our sympathy and our hopethat his children may not share his fate. 

In the way of illustrating this quality of respect, we reach the climax inthe thirty-eighth chapter of the Book of Job and following. The dramaticelement of literature here reaches its zenith. God is the speaker, thestricken, outcast Job is the sole auditor, and the stage is a whirlwind. It is related of the late Professor Hodge that, on one occasion when hewas about to perform an experiment in his laboratory, he said to somestudents who stood near, "Gentlemen, please remove your hats; I am aboutto ask God a question. " But here in this chapter we have a still moresublime situation, for God is here asking questions of the man. And thesequestions dig deep into the life of the man and show him how puny andimpotent is the finite in the presence of the Infinite. In this presencethere is neither pomp, nor parade, nor vaunting, nor self-aggrandizement, nor arrogance. Even the printed page cannot but induce respect, devoutness, and profound reverence, for it tells of nature's wonders--thesnow-crystals, the rain, the dewdrop, the light, the cloud, thelightning--and reveals to the bewildered sight some apprehension of theAuthor of them all. 

The reader must, by now, have divined the conclusion of the whole matter. Without respect there can be no reverence; and, without reverence, therecan be neither education nor civilization that is worth while. Some onehas defined reverence as "that exquisite constraint which leads a man tohate all that is unsuitable and sordid and exaggerated and to love allthat is excellent and temperate and beautiful. " This definition is bothcomprehensive and inclusive, and the superintendent may well promulgate itin his directions to his teachers. All teaching has to do with Truth and, in the presence of Truth, whether in mathematics, or science, or history, or language, the teacher should feel that he stands in the presence of theBurning Bush and hears the command, "Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground. " It seems a thousandpities that even college students rush into the presence of the BurningBush in hobnailed shoes, shouting forth the college yell as they go. 

The man who is reverent disclaims everything that is cheap, or vulgar, orcoarse, or unseemly. He is so essentially fine that the gaudy, thebizarre, and the intemperate, in whatever form, grate upon hissensibilities. He respects himself too much to be lacking in respect toothers. He instinctively shrinks away from ugly vulgarization as from apestilence. He is kindly, charitable, sympathetic, and sincere. Exaggeration, insinuation, and caricature are altogether foreign to hisspirit. In his society we feel inspired and ennobled. His very presence isa tonic, and his tongue distills only purity. His example is the lodestarof our aspirations, and we fain would be his disciples. We feel him to besomething worshipful in that his life constantly beckons to our betterselves. To be reverent is to be liberally educated, while to be irreverentis to dwell in darkness and ignorance. To be reverent is to live on theheights, where the air is pure and tonic and where the sunlight is freefrom taint. To be reverent is to acknowledge our indebtedness to all thosewho, in art, in science, in literature, in music, or in philanthropy, havecaused the waters of life to gush forth in clear abundance. To be reverentis to stand uncovered in the presence of Life and to experience the thrillof the spiritual impulses that only an appreciation of life can generate. If this is reverence, then the school honors itself by giving this qualitya place of honor. 

CHAPTER TEN

SENSE OF RESPONSIBILITY

Every one who has had to do with Harvey's Grammar will readily recall thesentence, "Milo began to lift the ox when he was a calf. " Aside from theinterest which this sentence aroused as to the antecedent of the pronoun, it also enunciated a bit of philosophy which caused the pupils to wonderabout the possibility of such a feat. They were led to consider suchexamples of physical strength as Samson, Hercules, and the more modernSandow and to wonder, perhaps, just what course of training brought thesemen to their attainment of physical power. It is comparatively easy foradults to realize that such feats as these men accomplished could onlycome through a long process of training. If a man can lift a given weighton one day, he may be able to lift a slightly heavier weight the next day, and so on until he has achieved distinction by reason of his ability tolift great weights. So it is in this matter of responsibility. It needhardly be said that responsibility is the heaviest burden that men andwomen are called upon to lift or carry. We need only think of theresponsibilities pertaining to the office of the chief ruler of a countryin time of war, or of the commanding general of armies, or of thepresident of large industrial concerns, and so on through the list. Suchmen bear burdens of responsibility that cannot be estimated in terms ofweights or measures. We can easily think of the time when the manager of agreat industrial concern was a child in school, but it is not so easy tothink of the six-year-old boy performing the functions of this samemanager. However, we do know that the future rulers, generals, managers, and superintendents are now sitting at desks in the schools and itbehooves all teachers to inquire by what process these pupils may be sotrained that in time they will be able to execute these functions. 

In some such way we gain a right concept of responsibility. We cannotthink of the six-year-old boy as a bank president but, in our thinking, wecan watch his progress, in one-day intervals, from his initial experiencein school to his assumption of the duties pertaining to the presidency ofthe bank. In thus tracing his progress there is no strain or stress in ourthinking nor does the element of improbability obtrude itself. We thinkalong a straight and level road where no hills arise to obstruct the view. Each succeeding day marks an inch or so of progress toward the goal. Butshould we set the responsibilities of the bank president over against thepowers of the child, the disparity would overwhelm our thinking and ourminds would be thrown into confusion. Our thinking is level and easy onlywhen we conceive of strength and responsibility advancing side by side andat the same rate. 

It would be an interesting experience to overhear the teacher inquiring ofthe superintendent how she should proceed in order to inculcate in herpupils a sense of responsibility. We should be acutely alert to catchevery word of the superintendent's reply. If he were dealing with such aconcrete problem as Milo and the calf, his response would probably besatisfactory; but when such an abstract quality as responsibility ispresented to him his reply might be vague and unsatisfactory. His thinkingmay have had to do with concrete problems so long that an abstract qualitypresents a real difficulty to his mental operations. Yet the questionwhich the teacher propounds is altogether pertinent and reasonable and, ifhe fails to give a satisfactory reply, he will certainly decline in heresteem. 

The normal child welcomes such a measure of responsibility as falls withinthe compass of his powers and acquits himself of it in a manner that isworthy of commendation. This open truth encourages the conviction that thesuperintendent who can give to the teacher a definite plan by which shewill be able to develop a sense of responsibility, will commend himself toher favor, if not admiration. They both know full well that if the pupilemerges from the school period lacking this quality he will be a helplessweight upon society and a burden to himself and his family, no matter whathis mental attainments. He will be but a child in his ability to cope withsituations that confront him and cannot perform the functions of manhood. Though a man in physical stature he will shrink from the ordinary dutiesthat fall to the lot of a man and, like a child, will cling to the hand ofhis mother for guidance. In all situations he will show himself aspiritual coward. 

The problem is easy of statement but by no means so easy of solution. Atthe age of six the boy takes his place at a desk in the school. Twentyyears hence, let us say, he will be a railway engineer. As such he mustdrive his engine at forty miles an hour through blinding storm, or in inkydarkness, or through menacing and stifling tunnels, or over dizzy bridges, or around the curve on the edge of the precipice--and do this with noshadow of fear or hint of trepidation, but always with a keen eye, a coolhead, and a steady hand. In his keeping are the lives of many persons, andany wavering or unsteadiness, on his part, may lead to speedy disaster. Somewhere along the way between the ages of six and twenty-six he mustgain the ability to assume a heavy responsibility, and it would seem atravesty upon rational education to force him to acquire this abilitywholly during the eight years succeeding his school experience. If, at theage of eighteen, he does not exhibit some ability in this respect, theschool may justly be charged with dereliction. 

Or, twenty years hence, this boy may be a physician. If so, he will find aweeping mother clinging to him and imploring him to save her baby. He willsee a strong man broken with sobs and offering him a fortune to save hiswife from being engulfed in the dark shadows. His ears will be assailedwith delirious ravings that call to him for relief and life. He will beimportuned by the grief-crushed child not to let her mother go. He will becalled upon to grapple with plague, with pestilence, with death itself. Unless he can give succor, hope departs and darkness enshrouds andblights. He alone can hold disease and death at bay and bid darkness giveplace to light and cause sorrow to vanish before the smile of joy. Hestands alone at the portal to do battle against the demons of devastationand desolation. And, if he fails, the plaints of grief will penetrate theinnermost chambers of his soul. He must not fail. So he toils on throughthe long night watches, disdaining food and rest, that the breaking daymay bring in gladness and crown the arts of healing. And the school thatdoes not share in the glory of such achievement misses a nobleopportunity. 

Again, twenty years hence, the little girl who now sits at her desk, crowned with golden ringlets, will be a wife and mother, and the mistressof a well-conditioned home. She is a composite of Mary and Martha and inher kingdom reigns supreme and benign. In her home there is no hint of"raw haste, half-sister to delay, " for long since she acquired the habitof serene mastery. She meets her manifold responsibilities with a smileand sings her way through them all. If clouds arise, she banishes themwith the magic of her poise and amiability. She can say with Napoleon, "Ido not permit myself to become a victim of circumstances; I makecircumstances. " Back in the school she learned order, system, method, andacquired the sense of responsibility. At first the teacher's desk was herspecial care, and by easy gradations the scope of her activities waswidened until she came to feel responsible for the appearance of theentire schoolroom. Now in her womanhood she is a delight to her husband, her children, her guests, and her neighbors. Emergencies neither daunt hernor render her timorous, but, serene and masterful, she meets the newsituation as a welcome novelty, and, with supreme amiability, accepts itas a friendly challenge to her resourcefulness. She needs not to apologizeor explain, for difficulties disappear at her approach because, in theschool, responsibility was one of the major goals of her training. 

Or, again, two decades hence this child may have attained to a position inthe world of affairs where good taste, judgment, perseverance, self-control, graciousness, and tact are accounted assets of value. Butthese qualities, gained through experience, are as much a part of herselfas her hands. A thousand times in the past has the responsibility beenlaid upon her of making selections touching shapes, colors, materials, ortypes, till now her judgment is regarded as final. Her self-control hasbecome proverbial, but it is not the miracle that it seems, for it hasbecome grooved into a habit by much experience. She met all these lions inher path at school and vanquished them all, with the aid of the teacher'scounsel and encouragement. She can perform heroisms now because she longsince contracted the habit of heroisms. And responsibility is mostbecoming to her now because in the years past she learned how to wear it. She has multiplied her powers and usefulness a hundred-fold by reason ofhaving learned to assume responsibility. 

She has learned to lift her eyes and scan the far horizon and not beafraid. With gentle, kindly eyes she can look into the faces of men andwomen in all lands and not be abashed in their presence. She can soothethe child to rest and prove herself a scourge to evil-doers, all withinthe hour. She knows herself equal to the best, but not above the least. She does not need to pose, for she knows her own power without evervaunting it. Her simplicity and sincerity are the fragrant bloom of hersense of responsibility both to herself and her kind. She gives of herselfand her means as a gracious discharge of obligation to the less fortunate, but never as charity. She feels herself bound up in the interests ofhumanity and would do her full part in helping to make life more worthwhile. Her touch has the gift of healing and her tongue distills kindness. Her obligations to the human family are privileges to be esteemed andenjoyed and not bur-dens to be endured and reviled. And she thinks of hersuperintendent and teachers with gratitude for their part in the processof developing her into what she is, and what she may yet become. 

Only such as the defiant, wicked, and rebellious Cain can ask thequestion, "Am I my brother's keeper?" The man who feels no responsibilityfor the character and good name of the community of which he is a memberis a spiritual outcast and will become a social pariah if he persists inmaintaining his attitude of indifference. For, after all, responsibilityamounts to a spiritual attitude. If the man feels no responsibility to hiscommunity he will begrudge it the taxes he pays, the improvements he isrequired to make, and will be irked by every advance that makes for civicbetterment. To him the church and school will seem excrescences andsuperfluities, nor would he grieve to see them obliterated. His exoduswould prove a distinct boon to the community. He may have a noblephysique, good mentality, much knowledge, and large wealth, and yet, withall these things in his favor, he is nevertheless a liability for thesingle reason that he lacks a sense of responsibility. Could his teachershave foreseen his present attitude no efforts, on their part, would haveseemed too great if only they could have forestalled his misfortune. Andit is for the teachers to determine whether the boy of today shall becomea duplicate of the man here portrayed. 

Every man who lives under a democratic form of government has theopportunity before him each day to raise or lower the level of democracy. When the night comes on, if he reflects upon the matter, he must becomeconscious that he has done either the one or the other. Either democracyis a better thing for humanity because of his day's work and influence, orit is a worse thing. This is a responsibility that he can neither shiftnor shirk. It is fastened upon him with or against his will. It rests withhim to determine whether he would have every other man and every boy inthe land select him as their model and follow his example to the lastdetail. He alone can decide whether he would have all men indulge in thepractices that constitute his daily life, consort with his companions, hold his views on all subjects, read only the books that engage hisinterest, duplicate his thoughts, aspirations, impulses, and language, andbecome, each one, his other self. Every boy who now sits in the schoolmust answer these questions for himself sooner or later, nor can he hopeto evade them. Happy is that boy, therefore, whose teacher has theforesight and the wisdom to train him into such a sense of responsibilityas will enable him to answer them in such a way that the future will bringto him no pang of remorse. 

Thomas A. Edison is one of the benefactors of his time. He reached outinto space and grasped a substance that is both invisible and intangible, harnessed it with trappings, pushed a button, and the world was illumined. There were years of unremitting toil behind this achievement, years ofdiscouragement bordering on despair, but years in which the light of hopewas kept burning. We accept his gift with the very acme of nonchalance andwith little or no feeling of gratitude. Perhaps he would not have itotherwise. We do not know. But certain it is that his marvelousachievement has made life more agreeable to millions of people and he mustbe conscious of this fact. At some time in his life he must have achieveda sense of responsibility to his fellows and this worthy sentiment musthave become the guiding principle in all his labors. If some teacherfostered in him this sense of responsibility, she did a piece of work forthe world that can never be measured in terms of salary. She did not teacharithmetic, or grammar, or geography. She taught Edison. And one of thebig results of her teaching was his attainment of this sense ofresponsibility which far overtops all the arithmetic and history that heever learned. The man who carried the message to Garcia is another fittingillustration of this same principle. In executing his commission heovercame difficulties that would have seemed insurmountable to a lessintrepid man. He kept his eye on the goal and endured almost unspeakablehardships in pressing forward toward this goal. Somehow and somewhere inhis life he had learned the meaning of responsibility and so felt that hemust not fail. The world came to know him as a hero because he was a heroat heart and his heroic achievement had its origin in the training thatled him to feel a sense of responsibility. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LOYALTY

When the boy overhears a companion put a slight upon the good name of hismother, he does not deliberate but, like a flash, smites the mouth thatdefames. He may deliberate afterward, for the mind then has a fact uponwhich to work, but if he is a worthy son it is not till afterwards. Spiritual impulses are as quick as powder and as direct as a shaft oflight. So quick are they that we are prone to disregard them in ourcontemplation of their results. We see the boy strike and conclude, in asuperficial way, that his hand initiated the action, nor take pains totrace this action back to the primal cause in the spiritual impulse. True, both mind and body are called into action, but only as auxiliaries tocarry out the behests of the spirit. When the man utters an exclamation ofdelight at sight of his country's flag in a foreign port, the sound thatwe hear is but the conclusion or completion of the series of happenings. It is not the initial happening at all. On the instant when his eyescaught sight of the flag something took place inside the man's nature. This spiritual explosion was telegraphed to the mind, the mind, in turn, issued a command to the body, and the sound that was noted was the finalresult. In a general way, education is the process of training mind andbody to obey and execute right commands of the spirit. This definitionwill justify our characterization of education as a spiritual process. 

Seeing, then, that the body is but a helper whose function is to executethe mandates of the spirit, and seeing, too, that education is a processof the spirit, it follows that our concern must be primarily and alwayswith the spirit as major. It is the spirit that reacts, not the mind orthe body, and education is, therefore, the process of inducing rightreactions of the spirit. The nature of these reactions depends upon thequality of the external stimuli. If we provide the right sort of stimulithe reactions will be right. If, today, the spirit reacts to a beautifulpicture, tomorrow, to the tree in bloom, the next day to an alluringlandscape, and the next to the glory of a sunrise, in time its reactionsto beauty in every form will become habitual. If we can induce reactions, day by day, to beautiful or sublime passages in literature, in due timethe spirit will refuse to react to what is shoddy and commonplace. Byinducing reactions to increasingly better musical compositions, day afterday, we finally inculcate the habit of reacting only to high-grade music, and the lower type makes no appeal. By such a process we shall finallyproduce an educated, cultivated man or woman, the crowning glory ofeducation. 

The measure of our success in this process of education will be the numberof reactions we can induce to the right sort of stimuli. In this, we shallhave occasion to make many substitutions. The boy who has been reacting tougliness must be lured away by the substitution of beauty. The beautifulpicture will take the place of the bizarre until nothing but such apicture will give pleasure and satisfaction. Indeed, the substitution ofbeauty for ugliness will, in time, induce a revolt against what is uglyand stimulate the boy to desire to transform the ugly thing into a thingof beauty. Many a home shows the effects of reaction in the school toartistic surroundings. The child reacts to beauty in the school and soyearns for the same sort of stimuli in the home. When the little girlentreats her mother to provide for her such a ribbon as the teacher wears, we see an exemplification of this principle. When only the best inliterature, in art, in nature, in music, and in conduct avail to producereactions, we may well proclaim the one who reacts to these stimuli aneducated person. It is well to repeat that these reactions are allspiritual manifestations and that the conduct of mind and body is aresultant. 

To casual thinking it may seem a far cry from reactions and externalstimuli to loyalty, but not so by any means. The man or woman who has beenled to react to the Madonna of the Chair, the Plow Oxen, or the ceiling ofthe Sistine Chapel will experience a revival and recurrence of thereaction at every sight of the masterpiece, whether the original or areproduction. That masterpiece has become this person's standard of artand neither argument, nor persuasion, nor sophistry can divorce him fromhis ideal. The boy's mother is one of his ideals. He believes her to bethe best woman alive, and it were a sorry fact if he did not. Hence, whenher good qualities are assailed his spirit explodes and commands his rightarm to become a battering-ram. The kindness of the mother has caused theboy's spirit to react a thousand times, and his reaction in defending hername from calumny was but another evidence of an acquired spiritual habit. 

Hence it is that we find loyalty enmeshed in these elements that pertainto the province of psychology. It must be so, seeing that these elementsand loyalty have to do with the spirit, for loyalty is nothing other thana reaction to the same external stimuli that have induced reactions manytimes before. In setting up loyalty, therefore, as one of the big goals ofschool endeavor the superintendent has only to make a list of the externalstimuli that will induce proper reactions and so groove these reactionsinto habit. His problem, thus stated, seems altogether simple but, inworking out the details, he will find himself facing the entire scheme ofeducation. If he would induce reactions that spell loyalty he must make nomistake in respect of external stimuli, for it must be reiterated that thecharacter of the stimuli conditions the reactions. We may not hope toachieve loyalty unless through the years of training we have providedstimuli of the right sort. 

If the sentiment of loyalty concerns itself with the teachings of theBible and the tenets of the church, we call it religion; if it has to dowith one's country and what its flag represents, we call it patriotism;and in many another relation we call it fidelity. Hence it is obvious thatloyalty is an inclusive quality and in its ramifications reaches out intoevery phase of life. This gives us clear warrant for making it one of theprime objectives in a rational, as distinguished from a traditional, scheme of education. The progressive superintendent who is endowed withperspicacity, resourcefulness, altruism, and faith in himself will consultthe highest interests of the boys and girls of his school before herelegates the matter to oblivion. To such as he we must look for advanceand for the redemption of our schools from their traditional moorings. Tosuch as he we must look for the inoculation of the teachers with suchvirus as will render them vital, dynamic, and eager to essay any new taskthat gives promise of a larger and better outlook for their pupils. 

In the second chapter of Revelation, tenth verse, we read, "Be thoufaithful unto death and I will give thee the crown of life. " Now this isquite as true in a psychological sense as it is in a scriptural sense. Itis a great pity that we do not read the Bible far more for lessons inpedagogy. However, too many people misread the quoted passage. Theyinterpret the expression "unto death" as if it were "until death. " Thisinterpretation would weaken the expression. The martyrs would not recanteven when the fires were blazing all about them or when their bodies werelacerated. They were faithful unto death. In his poem _Invictus_ Henleysays, In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud; Under the bludgeonings of chance, My head is bloody but unbowed. 

And only so can the spirit hope to achieve emancipation and win out intothe clear. This is the crown of life. Michael Angelo represents Joseph ofArimathea standing at the tomb of the Master with head erect and with themien of faith. He did not understand at all, and yet his faithful heartencouraged him to hope and to hold his head from drooping. He was faithfuleven in the darkness and on the morning of the Resurrection he receivedhis crown. 

When we set up loyalty as one of our major goals we shall become alert toevery illustration of it that falls under our gaze. The story of NathanHale will become newly alive and will thrill as never before. Over againstNathan Hale we shall set Philip Nolan for the sake of comparison andcontrast. Even though our pupils may regard Joan of Arc as a fanatic, herheroism and her fidelity to her convictions will shine forth as a star inthe night and her example as illustrating loyalty will be as seed plantedin fertile soil. In our quest for exemplars we shall find the pages ofhistory palpitating with life. We may sow dead dragon's teeth, but armedmen will spring into being. Thermopylæ will become a new story, whileWilliam Tell and Arnold Winkelried will take rank among the demigods. Sidney Carton will become far more than a mere character of fiction, foron his head we shall find a halo, and Horace Mann will become far morethan a mere schoolmaster. Historians, poets, novelists, statesmen, andphilanthropists will rally about us to reinforce our efforts and to citeto us men and women of all times who shone resplendent by reason of theirloyalty. 

Our objective being loyalty, we shall omit the lesson in grammar for todayin order to induce the spirits of our pupils to react to the story ofJephthah's daughter. For once they have emotionalized it, have really feltits power, this story will become to them a rare possession and willentwine itself in the warp and woof of their lives and form a pattern ofexceeding beauty whose colors will not fade. They shall hear the solemnvow of the father to sacrifice unto the Lord the first living creaturethat meets his gaze after the victory over his enemies. They shall see himreturning invested with the glory of the victor. Then the child will beseen running forth to meet him, the first living creature his gaze hasfallen upon since the battle. They will note her gladness to see him andto know that he is safe. They will see the dancing of her eyes and hearher rippling, joyous laughter. They will become tense as the father istelling her of his vow. But the climax is reached when they hear hersaying, "My father, if thou hast opened thy mouth unto the Lord, do to meaccording to that which hath proceeded out of thy mouth. " And, with batedbreath, they see her meeting death with a smile that her father may keephis covenant with the Lord. Ever after this story will mark to them thevery zenith of loyalty, and the lesson in grammar can await another day. 

Again, instead of the regular reading lesson the school may wellsubstitute the story of David, as given in the eleventh chapter ofChronicles. "Now three of the thirty captains went down to the rock toDavid, into the cave of Adullam; and the host of the Philistines encampedin the valley of Rephaim. And David was then in the hold, and thePhilistines' garrison was then at Bethlehem. And David longed, and said, 'O that one would give me drink of the water of the well of Bethlehem thatis at the gate. ' And the three brake through the host of the Philistines, and drew water out of the well of Bethlehem, that was by the gate, andtook it, and brought it to David; but David would not drink of it, butpoured it out to the Lord, and said, 'My God forbid it me, that I shoulddo this thing. Shall I drink the blood of these men that have put theirlives in jeopardy? for with the jeopardy of their lives they brought. 'Therefore he would not drink it. "

Without any semblance of irreverence we may paraphrase this story slightlyand have our own General Pershing stand in the place of David asking forwater. Then we can see three of his soldiers going across No Man's Land inquest of the water which he craves. When they return, bearing the water tohim from the spring in the enemy's territory, we can see him pouring thewater upon the ground and refusing to drink it because of the hazard ofthe enterprise. No fulsome explanation will need to be given to impressupon the pupils the loyalty of the soldiers to their general, nor yet theloyalty of the general to his soldiers. Or again, in the oral English twoof the pupils may be asked to tell the stories of Ruth and Esther, andcertain it is, if these stories are told effectively, the pupils willthrill with admiration for the loyalty of these two noble characters. 

On his way home for vacation a college student was telling his companionon the train of the trip ahead, relating that at such a time he wouldreach the junction and at a certain hour he would walk into his home justin time for supper; he concluded by paying a tribute to the noblequalities of his mother. This man is now an attorney in a large city andit is inconceivable that he can ever be guilty of apostasy from the idealsand principles to which he reacted in his boyhood in that village home. Whatever temptations may come to him, the mother's face and voice and thememory of her high principles will forbid his yielding and hold him steadyand loyal to that mother and her teaching. He must feel that if he shoulddebase himself he would dishonor her, and that he cannot do. He can stillhear her voice echoing from the years long gone, and feel the kindly touchof her hand upon his brow. When troubles came, mother knew just what to doand soon the sun was shining again. It was her magic that made the roughplaces smooth, her voice that exorcised all evil spirits. She it was whodrove the lions from his path and made it a place of peace and joy. To bedisloyal to her would be to lose his manhood. 

Whatever vicissitudes befall, we yearn to return to the old homestead, forthere, and there alone, can we experience, in full measure, the reactionsthat came from our early associations with the old well, the bridge thatspans the brook, the trees bending low with their luscious fruit, thegrape arbor, the spring that bubbles and laughs as it gives forth itslimpid treasure, the fields that are redolent of the harvest season, andthe royal meal on the back porch. The man who does not smile in recallingsuch scenes of his boyhood days is abnormal, disloyal, and an apostate. These are the scenes that anchor the soul and give meaning tocivilization. The man who will not fight for the old home, and for thememory of father and mother, will not fight for the flag of his countryand is, at heart, an alien. But the man who is loyal to the home of hisearly years, loyal to the memory of his parents, and loyal to theprinciples which they implanted in his life, such a man can never be lessthan loyal to the flag that floats over him, loyal to the land in which hefinds his home, and ever loyal to the best and highest interests of thatland. Never, because of him, will the colors of the flag lose their lusteror the stars grow dim. He will be faithful even unto death, becauseloyalty throbs in his every pulsation, is proclaimed by his every word, isenmeshed in every drop of his blood and has become a vital part ofhimself. 

CHAPTER TWELVE

DEMOCRACY

In a recent book H. G. Wells says that education has lost its way. Whetherwe give assent to this statement or not, it must be admitted that it is adirect challenge to the school, the home, the pulpit, the press, togovernment, and to society. If education has indeed lost its way, theresponsibility rests with these educational agencies. If education haslost its way, these agencies must unite in a benevolent conspiracy to helpit find it again. The war has brought these agencies into much closerfellowship and they are now working in greater harmony than ever before. This is due to the fact that they are working to a common end, that theyare animated by a common purpose. The war is producing many readjustmentsand a new scale of values. Many things that were once considered majorsare now thought of as minors, and the work of reconstruction has only justbegun. Civilization is now in the throes of a re-birth and people areawakening from their complacency and thinking out toward the big things oflife. They are lifting their gaze above and beyond party, and creed, andracial ties, and territorial boundaries, and fixing it upon their bigcommon interests. More and more has their thinking been focused upondemocracy, until this has become a watchword throughout the world. Aboutthis focal point people's thoughts are rallying day by day, and theircommunity of feeling and thinking is leading to community of action. 

Primarily, democracy is a spiritual impulse, the quintessence of theGolden Rule. "As a man thinketh in his heart so is he, " and this spiritualquality inevitably precedes and conditions democracy in its outwardmanifestations. Feeling, thinking, willing, doing--these are the stages inthe law of life. The Golden Rule in action has its inception in the loveof man for his fellow-man. The action is but the visible fruitage of theinvisible spiritual impulse. The soldier in the trench, the sailor on theship, the nurse in the hospital, the worker in the factory, and theofficial at his desk, all exemplify this principle. The outwardmanifestations of the inward impulse, democracy, are many and varied, andthe demands of the war greatly increased both the number and variety. People essayed tasks that, a few years ago, would have seemed impossible;nor did they demean themselves in so doing. The production andconservation of food has become a national enterprise that has enlistedthe active coöperation of men, women, and children of all classes, creeds, and conditions. Rich and poor joined in the work of war gardens, thinkingall the while not only of their own larders but quite as much of theirfriends across the sea. And while they helped win the war, they werewinning their own souls, for they were yielding obedience to a spiritualimpulse and not a mere animal desire. Thus Americans and the people ofother lands, like children at school, are learning the lesson ofdemocracy. Moreover, they are now appalled at the wastage of former yearsand at the cheapness of many of the things that once held their interest. 

In this process of achieving an access of democracy it holds true that"There is no impression without expression. " Each reaction of the spirittends to groove the impression into a habit, and this process has had athousand exemplifications before our eyes since the opening of the war. People who were only mildly inoculated with the democratic spirit at firstbecame surcharged with this spirit because of their many reactions. Theyhave been obeying the behests of spiritual impulse, working in wargardens, eliminating luxuries, purchasing bonds, contributing tobenevolent enterprises, until democracy is their ruling passion. Everyeffort a man puts forth in the interest of humanity has a reflex influenceupon his inner self and he experiences a spiritual expansion. So it hascome to pass that men and women are doing two, three, or ten times theamount of work they did in the past and doing it better. Their aroused andenlarged spiritual impulses are the enginery that is driving their mindsand bodies forward into virgin territory, into new and larger enterprises, and thus into a wider, deeper realization of their own capabilities. Sothe leaven of democracy is working through difficulties of surpassingobduracy and resolving situations that seemed, in the past, to be beyondhuman achievement. And of democracy it may be said, as of Dame Rumor ofold, "She grows strong by motion and gains power by going. Small at firstthrough fear, she presently raises herself into the air, she walks uponthe ground and lifts her head among the clouds. " On the side of democracy, at any rate, it would seem that education is beginning to find its wayagain. 

In the thinking of most people democracy is a form of government; butprimarily it is not this at all. Rather it is a spiritual attitude. Theform of government is an outward manifestation of the inward feeling. Ourancestors held democracy hidden in their hearts as they crossed the oceanlong before it became visible as a form of government. The form ofgovernment was inevitable, seeing that they possessed the feeling ofdemocracy, and that they were journeying to land in obedience to thedictates of this feeling. In education for democracy the form ofgovernment is an after-consideration; that will come as a naturalsequence. The chief thing is to inoculate the spirits of people with afeeling for democracy. This germ will grow out into a form of governmentbecause of the unity of feeling and consequent thinking. When thisspiritual attitude is generated, not only does the form of governmentfollow, but people meet upon the plane of a common purpose and giveexpression to their inner selves in like movements. They come to realizethat, in a large way, each one is his brother's keeper. They are drawntogether in closer sympathy and good-will; artificial barriers disappear;and they all become interested in the common good. Their interests, purposes, and activities become unified, and life becomes better andricher. Actuated by a common impulse, they exemplify what Kipling says inhis _Sons of Martha_:

 Lift ye the stone or cleave the wood to make a path more fair or flat, Lo, it is black already with blood some Son of Martha spilled for that, Not as a ladder from Earth to Heaven, not as an altar to any creed, But simple Service, simply given, to their own kind, in their common need. 

As Dr. Henry van Dyke well says, "It is the silent ideal in the hearts ofthe people which molds character and guides action. "

It will be admitted without qualification that the school, when welladministered, constitutes a force that a altogether favorable to thedevelopment of the spirit of democracy, and no one will deny thatdemocracy is a worthy goal toward which the activities of the schoolshould be directed. It is easy to see just how geography, for instance, may be made a means to this end. The members of the class represent manyconditions of society, but in the study of geography they unite in acommon enterprise and have interests in common. Thus their spirits mergeand, for the time, they become unified in a common quest. They becomecoordinates and confederates in this quest of geography, and the spirit ofdemocracy expands in an atmosphere so favorable to growth. These pupilsmay differ in race, in creed, or in color, but these differences aresubmerged in the zeal of a common purpose. Lines of demarcation areobliterated and they are drawn together because of their thinking andfeeling in unison. The caste system does not thrive in the geography classand snobbery languishes. The pupils have the same books, the sameassignments, the same teacher, and share alike in all the privileges andpleasures which the class provides. Their grades are given on merit, withno semblance of discrimination. In short, they achieve the democraticattitude of spirit by means of the study of geography. 

If the teacher holds democracy in mind, all the while, as the goal ofendeavor, she will find abundant opportunities to inculcate and developthe democratic ideal. By tactful suggestion she directs the activities ofthe children into channels that lead to unity of purpose. Where help isneeded, she arranges that help may be forthcoming. Where sympathy willprove a solace, sympathy will be given, for sympathy grows spontaneouslyin a democratic atmosphere. Books, pictures, and flowers come forth as ifby magic to bear their kindly messages and to render their appointedservice. By the subtle alchemy of her very presence, the teacher who isdeeply imbued with the spirit of democracy fuses the spirits of her pupilsand causes them to blend in the pursuit of truth. Thus she brings it topass that the spirit of democracy dominates the school and each pupilcomes to feel a sense of responsibility for the well-being of all theothers. So the school achieves the goal of democracy by means of thestudies pursued, and the pupils come to experience the altruism, theimpulse to serve, and the centrifugal urge of the democratic spirit. 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

SERENITY

Serenity does not mean either stolidity or lethargy; far otherwise. Nordoes it mean sluggishness, apathy or phlegmatism; quite the contrary. Itdoes mean depth as opposed to shallowness, bigness as opposed tolittleness, and vision as opposed to spiritual myopia. It means dignity, poise, aplomb, balance. It means that there is sufficient ballast to holdthe ship steady on its way, no matter how much sail it spreads. When wesee serenity, we are quite aware of other spiritual qualities that fosterit and lift it into view. We know that courage is one of the hiddenpillars on which it rests and that sincerity contributes to its grace andcharm. It is a vital crescent quality as staunch as the oak and asgraceful as the rainbow. It evermore stands upon a pedestal, and a host ofdevotees do it homage. It is as majestic and beautiful as the iceberg butas warm-hearted as love. It has reserve, and yet it attracts rather thanrepels. A thousand influences are poured into the alembic of the spirit, and serenity issues forth in modest splendor. 

This quality of the spirit both betokens and embodies power, and powergoverns the universe. Its power is not that of the storm that harries anddevastates, but rather that of the sunshine that fructifies, purifies, chastens, and ripens. It does not rush or crash into a situation butsteals in as quietly as the dawn, without noise or bombast, and, by itsgentle influence, softens asperities and wins a smile from the face ofsorrow, or discouragement, or anger. Its presence transforms discord intoharmony, irradiates gloom, and evokes rare flowers from the murky soil ofdiscontent. Whatever storms may rage elsewhere and whatever darkness mayenshroud, it ever keeps its place as the center of a circle of calm andlight. It is Venus of Milo come to life, silently distilling the beautyand splendor of living. In its presence harshness becomes gentleness, hysteria becomes equanimity, and sound becomes silence. From its presencevaunting and vainglory and arrogance hasten away to be with their ownkind. By its power, as of a miracle, it changes the dross into fine gold, the grotesque into the seemly, the vulgar into the pure, the water intowine. Into the midst of commotion and confusion it quietly moves, saying, "Peace, be still!" and there is quiet and repose. Like the sun-crownedsummit of the mountain, it stands erect and sublime nor heeds the cloudytumult at its feet. In the school, the teacher who exemplifies andtypifies this quality of serenity is never less than dignified but, withal, is never either cold or rigid. Children nestle about her in theiraffections and expand in her presence as flowers open in the sunshine. Shecannot be a martinet nor, in her presence, can the children becomesycophants. Her very presence generates an atmosphere that is conducive tohealthy growth. There is that impelling force about her that draws peopleto her as iron filings are drawn to the magnet. Her smile stills thetumult of youthful exuberance and when the children look at her they gaina comprehensive definition of a lady. Her poise steadies the children inall the ramifications of their work, her complete mastery of herself winstheir admiration, and her complete mastery of the situation wins theirrespect. They become inoculated with her spirit and make daily advancestoward the goal of serenity. Knowledge is her meat and drink and, throughthe subtle alchemy of sublimation, her knowledge issues forth into wisdom. She does not pose, for her simplicity and sincerity have no need ofartificial garnishings. Her outward mien is but the expression of herspiritual power, and when we contemplate her we know of a truth thateducation is a spiritual process. 

To the teacher without serenity, the days abound in troubles. She isnervous, peevish, querulous, and irritable, and her pupils become equallyso. She thinks of them as incorrigibles and tells them so. To her theyseem bad and she tells them so. Her animadversions reflect upon theirparents and their home life as well as themselves and she takes unction toherself by reason of her strictures. Her spiritual ballast is unequal tothe sail she carries and her craft in consequence careens and every dayships water of icy coldness that chills her pupils to the heart. She hasknowledge, indeed much knowledge, but she lacks wisdom, hence herknowledge becomes weakness and not power. She has spiritual hysteria whichmanifests itself in her manner, in her looks, and in her voice. Herspiritual strength is insufficient for the load she tries to carry and herpath shows uneven and tortuous. She nags and scolds in strident tones thatruffle and rasp the spirits of her pupils and beget in them a longing tobecome whatever she is not. She is noisy where quiet is needful; shecauses disturbance where there should be peace; and she disquiets whereshe should soothe. She may have had training, but she lacks education, forher spiritual qualities show only chaos. The waters of her soul areshallow and so are lashed into tumult by the slightest storm. She lacksserenity. 

The test of a real teacher is not whether she will be good _to_ thechildren but, rather, whether she will be good _for_ the children, andthese concepts are wide apart. If our colleges and normal schools couldbut gain the notion that their function is to prepare teachers who will begood _for_ children they might find occasion to modify their coursesradically. Unless she has serenity the teacher is not good for children, for serenity is one of the qualities which they themselves should possessas the result of their school experience and it is not easy for them toachieve this quality if the teacher's example and influence are adverse. We test prospective teachers for their knowledge of this subject and that, when, in reality, we should be trying to determine whether they will begood for the pupils. But we have contracted the habit of thinking thatknowledge is power and so test for knowledge, thinking, futilely, that weare testing for power. We judge of a teacher's efficacy by some marks thatexaminers inscribe upon a bit of paper, "a thing laughable to gods andmen. " She may be proficient in languages, sciences, and arts and still notbe good for the children by reason of the absence of spiritual qualities. None the less, we admit her to the school as teacher when we would declineto admit her to the hospital as nurse. We say she would not be good forthe patients in the hospital but nevertheless accept her as the teacher ofour children. 

In Ephesians we read, "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance, " andsuch an array of excellent spiritual qualities should attract theattention of all the agencies that have to do with the preparation ofteachers. We need only to make a list of the opposites of these qualitiesto be convinced that the teacher who possesses these opposites would notbe good for the children. Now serenity embodies all the foregoingexcellent qualities and, therefore, the teacher who has serenity has ahost of qualities that will make for the success and well-being of herpupils. Again, quoting from Henderson: "My whole point is that thesespiritual qualities in a boy are infinitely more important to his presentcharm and future achievement than any amount of academic training, thanthe most complete knowledge of reading, writing, arithmetic, history, geography, grammar, spelling, classics, and natural science. For charm andachievement are of the Spirit. It is very clear, then, that we ought tomake these spiritual qualities the major end of all our endeavor duringthose wonderful years of grace; and that we ought to allow theintellectual development, up to fourteen years at least, to be aby-product, valuable and welcome certainly, but not primarily soughtafter. In the end we should get much the larger harvest of intellectualpower, and much the larger man. "

We cannot hope to achieve the reconstructed school until our notion ofteaching and teachers has been reconstructed. When we secure teachers whohave education and not mere knowledge, we may begin to hope. We must lookto the colleges and normal schools to furnish such teachers. If theycannot do so, our schools must plod along on the path of tradition withouthope of finding the better way. There are faint indications, however, hereand there, that the colleges and normal schools are beginning to stir intheir sleep and are becoming somewhat aware of their opportunities andresponsibilities. We shall hail with acclaim the glad day when they cometo realize that the preparation of teachers for their work is a task oflarge import and goes deeper than facts, and statistics, and theories, andknowledge. If they furnish a teacher who has the quality of serenity, weshall all be fully alive to the fact that that quality is the luscious andnutritious fruitage of scholarship, of wide knowledge, of much reading, ofdeep meditation, and keen observation. But these elements, either singlyor in combination, are but veneer unless they strike their roots into thespiritual nature and are thus nourished into spiritual qualities. Excavating into serenity, we shall discover the pure gold of scholarship;we shall find knowledge in great abundance; we shall find the spirit ofthe greatest and best books; and we shall come upon the cloister in whichmeditation has done its perfect work. 

The machine that is run to the extreme limit of its capacity splutters, sizzles, hisses, and quivers, and finally shakes itself into a conditionof ineffectiveness. But the machine that is run well within the limits ofits capacity is steady, noiseless, serene, effective, and durable. So withpeople. The person who essays a task that is beyond his capacity iscertain to come to grief and to create no end of disturbance to himselfand others before the final catastrophe. If the steam-chest or boiler isnot equal to the task, wisdom and safety would counsel the installation ofa larger one. Here is one of the tragedies of our scheme of education. Thespirit is the power-plant of all life's operations and in this plant aremany boilers. Instead of calling more and more of these into action, weseem intent upon repressing them and thus we reduce the capacity of theplant as a whole. When we should be lighting or replenishing the firesunder the boilers of imagination, initiative, aspiration, and reverence, we spend our time striving to bank or quench these fires and in playingand dawdling with the torches of arithmetic, grammar, and history withwhich we should be kindling the fires. Thus we diminish the power of theplant while life's activities are calling for extension and enlargement. We seem to be trying to train our pupils to work with one or but fewboilers when there are scores of them available if only we knew how toutilize them. 

Hence, it must appear that reserve-power and serenity are virtuallysynonymous. The teacher who has achieved serenity never uses all the powerat her command and, in consequence, all her actions are easy, quiet, andeven. She is always stable and never mercurial or spasmodic. Sheencounters steep grades, to be sure, but with ease and grace she applies abit more power from her abundant supply and so compasses the difficultywithout disturbing the calm. She is fully conscious of her reservoir ofpower and can concentrate all her attention upon the work in hand. Theballast in the hold keeps the mast perpendicular and the sails in positionto catch the favoring breeze. We admire and applaud the graceful ship asit speeds along its course, giving little heed to the ballast in the holdthat gives it poise and balance. But the ballast is there, else the shipwould not be moving with such majestic mien. Nor was this ballast providedin a day. Rather it has been accumulating through the years, and bears themark of college halls, of libraries, of laboratories, of the auditorium, of the mountain, the ocean, the starry night, of the deep forest, of thelandscape, and of communion with all that is big and fine. 

Socrates drinking the hemlock is a fitting and inspiring illustration ofserenity. In the presence of certain and imminent death he was far lessperturbed than many another man in the presence of a pin-prick. And hisimperturbability betokened bigness and not stolidity. While his discipleswept about him, he could counsel them to calmness and discourse to themupon immortality. He wept not, nor did he shudder back from the ordeal, but calm and masterful he raised the cup to his lips and smiled as hedrank. His serenity won immortality for his name; for wherever languagemay be spoken or written, the story of Socrates will be told. History willnot permit his name to be swallowed up in oblivion, not alone because hewas the victim of ignorance and prejudice but also because his serenity, which was the offspring and proof of his wisdom, did not fail him and hisfriends in the supreme test. It is not a slight matter, then, to set upserenity as one of the goals in our school work. Nor is it a slight matterfor the teacher to show forth this quality in all her work and so inspireher pupils to follow in her footsteps. 

We hope, of course, that the boys and girls of our schools may attainserenity so that, even in their days of youth, urged on as they are byyouthful exuberance, they may be orderly, decorous, and kindly-disposed. We would have them polite, as a matter of course, but we would hope thattheir politeness may be a part of themselves and not a mere accretion. They will have joy of life, but so does their teacher who is possessed ofserenity. Joy is not necessarily boisterous. The strains of music are noless music because they are mellow. We would have our young people thinksoberly but not solemnly. And when all our people, young and old, reachthe goal of serenity they will extol the teachers and the schools thatshowed them the way. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

LIFE

Finally, we come to the chief among the goals, which is life itself. Infact, life is the super-goal. We study manual arts, science, and languagethat we may achieve the goals of integrity, imagination, aspiration, andserenity, and these qualities we weave into the fabric of life. Upon thespiritual qualities we weave into it, depend the texture and pattern ofthis fabric and the generating and developing of these qualities and theweaving of them into this fabric--this we call life. When we look upon aperson who is well-conditioned and whose life is well-ordered, in body, inmind, and in spirit, we know, at once, that he possesses integrity, initiative, a sense of responsibility, reverence, and other high qualitiesthat compose the person as we see him. We do not reflect upon what heknows of history, of geography, or of music, for we are taking note of anexemplification of life. Indeed, the presence or absence of thesequalities determines the character of the person's life. Hence it is thatlife is the supreme goal of endeavor. Life is a composite and thecrown-piece of all the qualities toward which we strive by means ofarithmetic and grammar--in short, of all our activities both in school andout. 

One of our mistakes is that we confuse life and lifetime, and construelife to mean the span of life. In this conception the unit of measurementis so large that our concept of life evaporates into a vaguegeneralization. Life is too specific, too definite for that. The qualityof life may better be measured and tested in one-hour periods of duration. When the clock strikes nine, we know that in just sixty minutes it willstrike ten. In the space of those sixty minutes we may find across-section of life. In a single hour we may experience a thousandsensations, arrive at a thousand judgments, and make a thousand responsesto things about us. In that hour we may experience joy, sorrow, love, hate, envy, malice, sympathy, kindliness, courage, cowardice, pettiness, magnanimity, egoism, altruism, cruelty, mercy--a list, in fact, thatreaches on almost interminably. If we only had a spiritual cyclometerattached to us, when the clock strikes ten we should have an interestingmoment in noting the record. Only in some such way may each one of us gaina true notion of what his own life is. The one-hour period is quite longenough for a determination of the spiritual attitude and disposition ofthe individual. 

It is no small matter to achieve life, big, full, round, abounding, pulsating life; but it is certainly well worth striving for. Some one hasdefined sin as the distance between what one is and what he might havebeen; and this distance measures his decline from the sphere of life towhich he had right and title. For life is a sphere, seeing that it extendsin all directions. Its limits are conterminous with the boundaries of timeand space. The feeble-minded person has life, but only in a veryrestricted sphere. He eats; he drinks; he sleeps; he wanders in narrowareas; and that is all. His thinking is weak, meager, and fitful. To himdarkness means a time for sleeping, and light a time for eating andwaiting. He produces nothing either of thought or substance, but is apensioner upon the thinking and substance of others. His eyesight isstrong and his hearing unimpaired; but he neither sees nor hears as normalpersons do, because his spirit is incapable of positive reactions, and hismind too weak to give commands to his bodily organs at the behest of thespirit. In the language of psychology, he lacks a sensory foundation bywhich to react to external stimuli. 

In striking contrast is the man whose sphere of life is large, whosespirit is capable of reacting to the orient and the occident, to heightand depth, and whose mind flashes across the space from the dawn to thesunset, and from nadir to zenith. Space is his playground, and hiscompanions are the stars. Such a man feels and knows more life in an hourthan his antithesis could feel and know in a century. To his spirit thereare no metes and bounds; it has freedom and strength to make excursions tothe far limits of space and time. Life comes to him from a thousandsources and in a thousand ways because he is able to go out to meet it. There has been developed in him a sensory foundation by which he can reactto every influence the universe affords, to light and shadow, to joy andsorrow, to the near and the far, to the then and the now, to the lowly andthe sublime, and to the finite and the Infinite. He has a big spirit, which is first in command; he has a strong, active mind, which is secondin command; and he has a loyal company of bodily organs that are able andwilling to obey and execute commands. 

To such a man we apply all the epithets of compliment and commendationwhich the language yields and cite him as an exemplification of life athigh tide, of life in its supreme fullness and splendor. The knowledge ofthe world comes to his doors to do his bidding; before him the arts andsciences make their obeisance; and wisdom is his pillar of cloud by dayand his pillar of fire by night. Therefore we call him educated; we callhim a man of culture; we call him a gentleman; and all because he hasachieved life in abundant measure. Having imagination, he is able to peerinto the future, anticipate world movements, and visualize the paths onwhich progress will travel. Having initiative as his badge of leadership, he is able to rally hosts of men to his standard to execute his behestsfor civic, national, and world betterment. Having aspiration, he obeys thedivine urge within him and moves onward and upward, eager to plant theflag of progress upon the summit that others may see and be stimulated torenewed hope and courage. 

And he has integrity, for he is a real man. He has wholeness, completeness, soundness, and roundness. He is an integer and never countsfor less than one in any relation of life. He cannot be a mere cipher, forhe is dynamic. He rings true at every impact of life, is free from drossand veneer, and is genuine through and through. There was arithmetic, backalong the line somewhere, but it has been absorbed in the big qualitywhich it helped to generate and develop. And it is better so. For if hewere now solving decimals and square root he would be but a cog and notthe great wheel itself. He has grown beyond his arithmetic as he has grownbeyond his boyhood warts and freckles, for the larger life has absorbedthem. Yet he feels no disdain either for freckles or arithmetic, butregards them as gracious incidents of youth and growth. He cannot read hisLatin as he once could, but he does not grieve; for he knows it has notbeen lost but, in changed form, is enshrined in the heart of integrity. 

Again, he has the qualities of thoroughness, concentration, a sense ofresponsibility, loyalty, and serenity. He is big enough, and true enoughboth to himself and others, to pursue a straight and steady course. Tohim, life is a boon, a privilege, an investment, an opportunity, aresponsibility, and, therefore, a gift too precious to be squandered orfrivoled away. To him, hours are of fine gold and should be seized thatthey may be fused and fashioned into a statue of beauty. Being loyal tothis conception, he moves on from achievement to achievement nor stops tonote that fragrant flowers of blessing and benediction are springing forthluxuriantly in his path. His spirit is big with rightness, his brain isclear, his conscience is clean, his eyes look upward, his words aresincere, his thoughts are lofty, his purposes are true, and his actsdistill blessings. He is no mere figment of fancy, but rather a noblereality whose prototype may be found on the bench, in the forum, in thestudy, in the sanctum, in the school and the college, in the factory, onthe farm, and in the busy mart. 

And, withal, he is a success as a human being. His sincerity is proverbialin all things, both great and small. In him there is nothing of themystic, the hermit, or the sybarite. He has great joy of life, and thisjoy is true, honest, and real, and never simulated. He drinks in life atevery pore, and gives forth life that invigorates and inspires whomsoeverit touches. His laugh is the expression of his wholesome nature; his wordsare jewels of discrimination; his every sentence bears a helpful message;his fine sense of humor mellows and illumines every situation; and hisface always shows forth the light within. Children find delight in hissociety, and the exuberant vitality of his nature wins for him thefriendship of all living creatures. Birds seem to sing for him, andflowers to exhale their odors for his delight. For the influences ofbirds, flowers, streams, trees, meadows, and mountains are enmeshed in hislife. Nature reveals her secrets to him and gives to him of her treasuresbecause he goes out to meet her. Because he smiles at nature she smilesback at him, and the union of their smiles gives joy to those who see. 

Moreover, he is a product of the reconstructed school, for this schooldoes already exist, though in conspicuous isolation. But the oasis isaccentuated by its isolation in the desert which spreads about it and isthe more inviting by contrast. When, as a child, he entered school, theteacher, who was in advance of her time in her conception of the truefunction of the school, made a close and sympathetic appraisement of hisaptitudes, his native dispositions, his daily environment, and the bent ofhis inherent spiritual qualities. First of all, she won his confidence. Thus he found freedom, ease, and pleasure in her presence. Thus, too, there ensued unconscious self-revelation and nothing in his life evadedher kindly scrutiny. He opened his mind to her frankly and fully, andnever after did she permit the closing of the door. Only so could shebecome his teacher. 

She regarded him as an opportunity for the testing of all her knowledge, all her skill, and the full measure of her altruism. Nor was he theproverbial mass of plastic clay to be molded into some preconceived form. Her wisdom and modernity interdicted such a conception of childhood asthat. Rather, he was a growing plant, waiting for her skill to nurture himinto blossom and fruitage. Some of his qualities she found good; othersnot. The good ones she made the objects of her special care; the othersshe allowed to perish from neglect. Her experience in gardening had taughther that, if we cultivate the potatoes assiduously, the weeds willdisappear and need not concern us. She discerned in him a tender shoot ofimagination and this she nurtured as a priceless thing. She fertilized itwith legend, story, song, and myth, and enveloped it in an atmosphere ofwarmth and joyousness. She led him into nature's realm, that hisimagination might plume its wings for greater flights by its efforts tointerpret the heart of things that live. Thus his imagination learned totraverse space, to explore sights and sounds his senses could not reach, and to construct for him another world of beauty and delight. 

So, too, with the other spiritual qualities. Upon these goals her gaze wasfixed and she gently led him toward them. She taught the arithmetic withzest, with large understanding, and in a masterly way, for she was causingit to serve a high purpose. Whatever study she found helpful, this sheused as a means with gratitude and gladness. If she found the book illadapted to her purpose, she sought or wrote another. If pictures provedmore potent than books, the galleries obeyed the magic of her skill andyielded forth their treasures. She yearned to have her pupil win the goalsbefore him; everything was grist that came to her mill if only it wouldserve her purpose. She disdained nothing that could afford nourishment tothe spirit of the child and give him zeal, courage, and strength for theupward journey. If more arithmetic was needful, she found it; if morehistory, she gave it; and if the book on geography was inadequate, shesupplemented from libraries or from her own abundant storehouse ofknowledge. She dared to deviate from the course of study, if thereby thechild might more certainly win the goals toward which she ever looked andworked. 

In the boy, she saw a poet, a philosopher, a prophet, an artist, amusician, a statesman, or a philanthropist, and she worked and prayed thatthe artist in the child might not die but that he might grow to stalwartmanhood to glorify the work of her school. In each girl she saw anotherRuth, or Esther, or Cordelia, or Clara Barton, or Frances Willard, orFlorence Nightingale, or Rosa Bonheur, or Mrs. Stowe, or Mrs. Browning. And her heart yearned over each one of these and strove with power tonourish them into vigorous life that they might become jewels in her crownof rejoicing. She must not allow one to perish through her ignorance ormalpractice, for she would keep her soul free from the charge of murder. And in the fullness of manhood and womanhood her pupils achieved the fullsymphony of life. They had won the goals toward which their teacher hadbeen leading. Their spiritual qualities had converged and become life, andthey had attained the super-goal. In the joy of their achievement theirteacher repeated the words of her own Teacher, "I am come that they mighthave life, and that they might have it more abundantly. "

INDEX

 [Transcriber's Note: Page numbers converted to Chapter numbers. ]

 Altruism, 12 American civilization, 2 Apple tree, 9 Arithmetic, 3 as means, never as end, 3 Aspiration, 5, 7

 Bible, 11 Body, mind, spirit, 11 Bogtrup, 6 Browning, 6

 Cant, 7 Children, let alone when, 7 Citizenship, concept of, 1 Civilization, 1 Clean living, 2 Columbus, 6 Concept of life, 14 Cooley, 6 Course of study, 3 Culture, 8

 David, 11 Democracy, 1, 12 spiritual attitude, 12 Democratic ideal, 12 Destination, 3 Dickens, 8 Draft board, 2 Dynamic teacher, 4

 Edison, 6 Education, newer import of, 1 definition of, 5 a spiritual process, 13 Esther, 11 Excelsior, 6

 Farmers, 8 Field, 6 Froebel, 6 Future as related to present, 3

 Galileo, 8 Geography, 5 Grandchildren, 2 Great Stone Face, 1

 Hand, 9 Harvey's Grammar, 10 Henderson, C. Hanford, 8 Hercules, 10 History, 6 Hodge, 9 Hugo, Victor, 9 Hungry pupils, 6

 Ideals, 8 Imagination, 8 "Impart instruction, " 39 5 Incompleteness, 4 Incorrigibility, 4 Initiative, 7 Integrity, 4 meaning of, 4 Inventions, 8

 Job, 9 Jove, 3

 Keats, 5 Kipling, 12 Knowledge and wisdom, 3

 Life, 14 Lincoln, 4 Loyalty, 11

 Madonna of the Chair, 11 Major ends, 3 Man-made course of study, 4 Manual training, 7 Minerva, 3 Minor ends, 3 Model man, 10 Model woman, 10 Mother, 11

 Napoleon, 5 North Star, 9

 Objects of teaching, 3 Old age, 5 Old Glory, 11 Olympus, 2

 Parker, 6 Past as related to the present, 2 Paternalism, 7 Pestalozzi, 6 Physical training, 4 Physician, 10 Preliminary survey of task before reconstructed school, 1 Present, as related to the past, 2 as related to the future, 3 Process of reconstruction, 2

 Question and answer method, 5

 Reactions, 11 Reconstructed school, survey of, 1 Relation of past to present, 2 Reserve-power, 13 Respect, 9 Responsibility, 10 Revelation, 11 Reverence, 9 Ruth, 11

 Samson, 10 Sandow, 10 School is cross-section of life, 7 Serenity, 13 defined, 13 Shakespeare, 5 Sin, 14 Sluggard, 5 Socrates, 13 Spiritual attitude, 10 Spiritual coward, 10 Spiritual hysteria, 13 Standardized children, 4 Statistics, 13 Stimuli, 11 Stuart, Ruth McEnery, 6 Survey of task before reconstructed school, 1 Swift, Edgar James, 7, 8

 Teachers, kinds of, 1 test of, 13 Teaching, objects of, 3 Thoroughness, 3 Tractor, 7 Tradition, 3 Traditional teacher, 4 Truth, 9

 Unity, dawn of, 1

 Van Dyke, Henry, 7, 12

 Wall Street, 2 War gardens, 12 Wells, H. G. , 12 Words, 9 World-minded superintendents and teachers, 1 World war, 2

 * * * * *

World Book CompanyThe House of Applied KnowledgeEstablished, 1905, by Caspar W. HodgsonYonkers-on-Hudson, New York2126 Prairie Avenue, Chicago

Publishers of the following professional works: School Efficiency Series, edited by Paul H. Hanus, complete in thirteen volumes; Educational SurveySeries, seven volumes already issued and others projected; SchoolEfficiency Monographs, eleven numbers now ready, others in activepreparation. 

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