Transcriber's note:

 Italicized words are enclosed by underscores (_italic_). 

 Bold-faced words are enclosed by equal signs (=bold=). 

THE VITALIZED SCHOOL

by

FRANCIS B. PEARSON

Superintendent of Public Instruction of OhioAuthor of "The Evolution of the Teacher""The High School Problem""Reveries of a Schoolmaster"

New YorkThe MacMillan Company1918Copyright, 1917, by the MacMillan Company. Published February, 1917. Reprinted January, 1918. 

PREFACE

The thoughtful observer must have noted in the recent past manyindications of an awakened interest both in the concept of education andin school procedure on the part of school officials, teachers, and thepublic. Educators have been developing pedagogical principles thatstrike their roots deep into the philosophy of life, and now theirpronouncements are invading the consciousness of people of all ranks andcausing them to realize more and more that the school process is anintegral part of the life process and not something detached from life. 

The following pages constitute an attempt to interpret some of theschool processes in terms of life processes, and to suggest ways inwhich these processes may be made identical. 

It is hoped that teachers who may read these pages may find runningthrough them a strand of optimism that will give them increased faith intheir own powers, a larger hope for the future of the school, and anaccess of zeal to press valiantly forward in their efforts to excelthemselves. 

F. B. P. 

COLUMBUS, OHIO, January, 1917. 

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 I. TEACHING SCHOOL II. THE TEACHER III. THE CHILD IV. THE CHILD OF THE FUTURE V. THE TEACHER-POLITICIAN VI. SUBLIME CHAOS VII. DEMOCRACY VIII. PATRIOTISM IX. WORK AND LIFE X. WORDS AND THEIR CONTENT XI. COMPLETE LIVING XII. THE TIME ELEMENT XIII. THE ARTIST TEACHER XIV. THE TEACHER AS AN IDEAL XV. THE SOCIALIZED RECITATION XVI. AGRICULTURE XVII. THE SCHOOL AND THE COMMUNITY XVIII. POETRY AND LIFE XIX. A SENSE OF HUMOR XX. THE ELEMENT OF HUMAN INTEREST XXI. BEHAVIOR XXII. BOND AND FEAR XXIII. EXAMINATIONS XXIV. WORLD-BUILDING XXV. A TYPICAL VITALIZED SCHOOL

THE VITALIZED SCHOOL

CHAPTER I

TEACHING SCHOOL

=Life and living compared. =--There is a wide difference betweenschool-teaching and teaching school. The question "Is she aschool-teacher?" means one thing; but the question "Can she teachschool?" means quite another. School-teaching may be living; butteaching school is life. And any one who has a definition of life canreadily find a definition for teaching school. Much of the criticism ofthe work of the schools emanates from sources that have a restrictedconcept of life. The artisan who defines life in terms of his own tradeis impatient with much that the school is trying to do. He would havethe scope of the school narrowed to his concept of life. If art andliterature are beyond the limits of his concept, he can see no warrantfor their presence in the school. The work of the schools cannot bestandardized until life itself is standardized, and that is neitherpossible nor desirable. The glory of life is that it does not havefixity, that it is ever crescent. 

=Teaching defined. =--Teaching school may be defined, therefore, as theprocess of interpreting life by the laboratory method. The teacher'swork is to open the gates of life for the pupils. But, before thesegates can be opened, the teacher must know what and where they are. Thisview of the teacher's work is neither fanciful nor fantastic; quite thecontrary. Life is the common heritage of people young and old, and theschool should be so organized and administered as to teach people how touse this heritage to the best advantage both for themselves and forothers. If a child should be absent from school altogether, or if heshould be incarcerated in prison from his sixth to his eighteenth year, he would still have life. But, if he is in school during those twelveyears, he is supposed to have life that is of better quality and moreabundant. Life is not measured by years, but by its own intensity andscope. It has often been said that some people have more life inthreescore and ten years than Methuselah had in his more than ninehundred years. 

=Life measured by intensity. =--This statement is not demonstrable, ofcourse, but it serves to make evident the fact that some people havemore of life in a given time than others in the same time. In thissense, life may be measured by the number of reactions to objectives. These reactions may be increased by training. Two persons, in passing ashop-window, may not see the same objects; or one may see twice as manyas the other, according to their ability to react. The man who waslocked in a vault at the cemetery by accident, and was not discoveredfor an hour, thought he had spent four days in his imprisonment. He hadreally lived four days in a single hour by reason of the intensity oflife during that hour. 

=Illustrations. =--In the case of dreams, we are told that years may becondensed into minutes, or even seconds, by reason of the rapidity ofreactions. The rapidity and intensity of these reactions make themselvesmanifest on the face of the dreamer. Beads of perspiration and facialcontortions betoken intensity of feeling. In such an experience life isintense. If a mental or spiritual cyclometer could be used in such acase, it would make a high record of speed. Life sometimes touchesbottom, and sometimes scales the heights. But the distance between theseextremes varies greatly in different persons. The life of one may havebut a single octave; of the other, eight, or a hundred, or a thousand. The life of Job is an apt illustration. No one has been able to soundthe depths of his suffering, nor has any one been able to measure theheights of his exaltation. We may not readily compute the octaves insuch a life as his. 

=The complexity of life. =--It is not easy to think life, much lessdefine it. The elements are so numerous as to baffle and bewilder themind. It looks out at one from so many corners that it seems Argus-eyed. At one moment we see it on the Stock Exchange where men struggle andstrive in a mad frenzy of competition; at another, in a quiet home, where a mother soothes her baby to sleep, where there is no competitionbut, rather, a sublime monopoly. Again, it manifests itself in theclanking of machinery where men are tunneling the mountain orconstructing a canal to unite oceans; or, again, in the laboratory wherethe microscope is revealing the form of the snow crystal. One man iswatching the movements of the heavenly bodies as they file by histelescope, while another writes a proclamation that makes free a race ofpeople. Another man is leading an army into battle, while some DoctorMacClure is breasting the storm in the darkness as he goes forth on hismission of mercy. 

=Manifestations of life. =--These manifestations of life men call trade, commerce, history, mathematics, science, nature, and philanthropy. Andmen write these words in books, and other men write other books tryingto explain their meaning. Then, still others divide and subdivide, andscience becomes the sciences, and mathematics becomes arithmetic, andalgebra, and geometry, and trigonometry, and calculus, and astronomy. Here mathematics and science seem to merge. And, in time, history andgeography come together, and sometimes strive for precedence. 

Thus, books accumulate into libraries and so add another to the manyelements of life. Then magazines are written to explain the books andtheir authors. The motive behind the book is analyzed in an effort todiscover the workings of the author's mind and heart. In theserevelations we sometimes hear the rippling of the brook, and sometimesthe moan of the sea; sometimes the cooing of the dove, and sometimes thescream of the eagle; sometimes the bleating of the lamb, and sometimesthe roaring of the lion. In them we see the moonbeams that play amongthe flowers and the lightning that rends the forest; the blossoms thatfilter from the trees and the avalanche that carries destruction; therain that fructifies the earth and the hurricane that destroys. 

=Life in literature. =--Back of these sights and sounds we discovermen--Cicero, Demosthenes, Homer, Isaiah, Shakespeare, Milton, Dante. Wetrace the thoughts and emotions of these men and find literature. And inliterature, again, we come upon another manifestation of life. Literature is what it is because these men were what they were. They sawand felt life to be large and so wrote it down large; and because theywrote it thus, what they wrote endures. They stood upon the heights andsaw the struggles of man with himself, with other men, and with nature. This panorama generated thoughts and feelings in them, and these theycould not but portray. And so literature and life are identical and notcoördinates, as some would have us think. 

=Life as subject matter in teaching. =--In teaching school, therefore, the subject matter with which we have to do is life--nothing more andnothing less. We may call it history, or mathematics, or literature, orpsychology, --but it still remains true that life is the real objectiveof all our activities. And, as has been already said, we are teachinglife by the laboratory method. We are striving to interpret the thing inwhich we are immersed. We feel, and think, and aspire, and love, andenjoy. All these are life; and from this life we are striving to extractstrength that our feeling may be deeper, our thinking higher, ouraspirations wider and more lofty, our love purer and nobler, and our ownenjoyment greater. By absorbing the life that is all about us we striveto have more abundant and abounding life. 

=The teacher's province. =--Such is the province of one who essays thetask of teaching school. School is life, as we have been told; but, atthe same time, it is a place and an occasion for teaching life. If wecould detach history from life, it would cease to be history. Ifliterature is not life, it is not literature; and so with the sciences. These branches are but variants or branches of life, and all emanatefrom a common center. Whether we scan the heavens, penetrate the depthsof the sea, pore over the pages of books, or look into the minds andhearts of men, we are striving after an interpretation of life. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Distinguish between a "school teacher" and a "man or woman whoteaches school. "

2. Discuss the importance of the following agencies of the school insecuring for children "life of a better quality and more abundant":play; revitalized curricula; vitalized teachers; medical inspection;social centers; moral instruction. 

3. Discuss both from the standpoint of present practice and idealeducational principles: "More abundant life rather than knowledge is thechief end of instruction. "

4. What changes are necessary in school curricula and in the methods ofschool organization, instruction, and discipline, in order that thechief purpose of our schools, "more abundant _life_, " may be realized?

5. Justify the apparent length of the school day to teachers and pupils, as a means of determining the quality of the work of the school. 

6. Some teachers maintain that school is a preparation for life, whilethe author maintains that "school is _life_. " Is this difference in theconcept of the school a vital one?

7. How may this difference of concept affect the work of the teacher?the attitude of the pupil?

8. What definition of education will best harmonize with the ideals ofthis chapter?

CHAPTER II

THE TEACHER

=Teachers contrasted. =--The vitalized school is an expression of thevitalized teacher. In the hands of the teacher of another sort, thevitalized school is impossible. Unless she can see in the multiplicationtable the power that throws the bridge across the river, that buildspyramids, that constructs railways, that sends ships across the ocean, that tunnels mountains and navigates the air, this table becomes astupid thing, a dead thing, and an incubus upon the spirits of herpupils. To such a teacher mathematics is a lifeless thing, without hopeor potency, the school is a mere convenience for the earning of alivelihood, the work is the drudgery of bondage, and the children arelittle less than an impertinence. The vitalized teacher is different. Toher the multiplication table pulsates with life. It stretches forth itsbeneficent hand to give employment to a million workers, and food to amillion homes. It pervades every mart of trade; it loads trains andships with the commerce of nations; and it helps to amplify and ennoblecivilization. 

=Vitalized mathematics. =--In this table she sees a prophecy of greatachievements in engineering, architecture, transportation, and themyriad applications of science. In brief, mathematics to her is vibrantwith life both in its present uses and in its possibilities. She knowsthat it is a part of the texture of the daily life of every home as wellas of national life. She knows that it pertains to individual, community, and national well-being. Knowing this, she feels that it isquite worth while for herself and her pupils, both for the present andfor the future. She feels that, if she would know life, she must knowmathematics, because it is a part of life; that, if she would teach lifeto her pupils, she must teach them mathematics as an integral part oflife; and that she must teach it in such a way that it will be as much apart of themselves as their bodily organs. She wants them to know themathematics as they know that the rain is falling or that the sun isshining, because the rain, the sunshine, and the mathematics are allelements of life. Her great aim is to have her pupils experience thestudy just as they experience other phases of life. 

=The teacher's attitude. =--Such a teacher with such a conception of lifeand of her work finds teaching school the very reverse of drudgery. Eachday is an exhilarating experience of life. Her pupils are a part of lifeto her. She enjoys life and, hence, enjoys them. They are herconfederates in the fine game of life. The bigness and exuberance of herabundant life enfolds them all, and from the very atmosphere of herpresence they absorb life. Their studies, under the influence of hermagic, are as much a part of life to them as the air they breathe or thefood they eat. No two days are alike in her school, for life to-day islarger than it was yesterday and so presents a new aspect. Her spiritcarries over into their spirits the truths of the books, and thesetruths thus become inherent. 

=College influences. =--She teaches life, albeit through the medium ofsubjects and books, because she knows life. Her college work did notconsist in the gathering together of many facts, but in accumulatingexperiences of life. Many of these experiences were acquiredvicariously, but they were no less real on that account. Her generousnature was able to withstand the most assiduous efforts of some of herteachers to quench the flames of life that glowed in the pages of books, with the wet blanket of erudition. She was able to relive the thoughtsand feelings of the authors whose books she studied and so make theirexperiences her own. She could reconstitute the emotional life of herauthors and gain potency through the transfusion of spirit. Her bookswere living things, and she gleaned life from their pages. 

=Reading and life. =--She can teach reading because she can read. Readingto her is an experience in life. The words on the printed page are notmeaningless hieroglyphics. They are the electric wires which connect thesoul of the author with her own, and through which the current iscontinually passing. When she reads Dickens, Tiny Tim is never a mereboy with a crutch, but he is Tiny Tim, and, as such, neither men norangels can supplant him on the printed page. She knows the touch of himand the voice of him. She laughs with him; she cries with him; she prayswith him; she lives with him. In her teaching she causes Tiny Tim tostand forth like a cameo to her pupils, with no rival and no peer. Thisshe can do because he is a part of her life. She has no occasion eitherto pose or to rhapsodize. Sincerity is its own explanation andjustification. 

=Power of understanding. =--When she reads "Little Boy Blue" she can hearthe sobbing of a heartbroken mother and thus, vicariously, comes to knowthe universality of death and sorrow. But she finds faith and hope inthe poem, also, and so can see the sunlight suffusing the clouds of themother's grief. Thus she enters into the feeling of motherhood and soshares the life of all the mothers whose children are her pupils. Inevery page she reads she crosses anew the threshold of life and gains aknowledge of its joys, its sorrows, its triumphs, or its defeats. Inshort, she reads with the spirit and not merely with the mind, and thuscatches the spiritual meaning of what she reads. She can feel as well asthink and so can emotionalize the printed page. Nature has endowed herwith a sensory foundation that reacts to the emotional situations thatthe author produces. Thus she understands, and that is the primedesideratum in reading. And because she understands, she can interpret, and cause her pupils to understand. Thus they receive another endowmentof life. 

=Books as exponents of life. =--She has time for reading as she has timefor eating and drinking, and for the same reason. To her they are allcoördinate elements of life. She eats, and sleeps, and reads because sheis alive; and she is more alive because she eats, and sleeps, and reads. She taps the sources of spiritual refreshment, without parade, andrejoices in the consequent enrichment of her life. She does not smitethe rock, but speaks to it, and smiles upon it, and the waters gushforth. She descends into Hades with Dante, and ascends Sinai with Moses, and is refreshed and strengthened by her journeys. She sits enrapt asShakespeare turns the kaleidoscope of life for her, or stands enthralledby Victor Hugo's picture of the human soul. Her sentient spirit isignited by the fires of genius that glow between the covers of the book, and her fine enthusiasm carries the divine conflagration over into thespirits of her pupils. There is, therefore, no drag or listlessness inher class in reading, because, during this exercise, life is as buoyantand spontaneous as it is upon the playground. 

=The meaning of history. =--In her teaching of history she invests allthe characters with life, because to her they are alive. And becausethey are alive to her they are alive to her pupils. They are instinctwith power, action, life. She rehabilitates the scenes in which theymoved, and, therefore, they must be alive in order to perform theirparts. They are all flesh and blood people with all the attributes ofpeople. They are all actuated by motives and move along their appointedways obedient to the laws of cause and effect. They are not named in thebook to be learned and recited, but to be known. She causes her pupilsto know them as they would come to know people in her home. Nor do theyever mistake one for the other or confuse their actions. They know themtoo well for that. These characters are made to stand wide apart, sothat, being thus seen, they will ever after be known. History is not adirectory of names, but groups of people going about their tasks. Theyhunger, and thirst, and love, and hate, and struggle with theirenvironment as their descendants are doing to-day. 

=Language and vitality. =--When she is teaching a language, it is neverless than a living language. In Latin the syntax is learned as a means, never an end. The big things in the study loom too large for that. Thepupils become so eager to see what Cæsar will do next that they cannotafford the time to stare long at a mere ablative absolute. They arefollowing the parade, and are not to be turned aside from their largepurpose by minor matters. They are made to see and hear Cicero; and Romebecomes a reality, with its Forum, its Senate, and its Mamertine. WhenDido sears the soul of the faithless Æneas with her words of scorn, thegirls applaud and the boys tremble. When Troy burns, there is a realfire, and Achates is as real as the man Friday. When the shipwreckedTrojans regale themselves with venison, it is no make-believe dinner, but a real one. Where such a teacher is, there can be no dead language, no dry bones of history, and no stagnation in the stream of life. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. What suggestions are offered for the vitalization of mathematics?history? reading? language?

2. In what ways is vitalization of subject matter related to itssocialization?

3. How may motivation in teaching the multiplication table be assistedby vitalization?

4. What is to be included in the term "read" in the sentence "She canteach reading because she can read"?

5. Add to the author's list of children in literature whom the vitalizedteacher may introduce as companions to her pupils. 

6. Why is extended reading essential to success in teaching?

7. What works of Dante have you read? of Victor Hugo? of Shakespeare?How will the reading of such authors improve the teaching ability ofelementary teachers?

8. What are the distinguishing characteristics of the vitalized teacher?

CHAPTER III

THE CHILD

=The child as the center in school procedure. =--The child is the centerof school procedure in all its many ramifications. For the child thebuilding is erected, the equipment is provided, the course of study isarranged and administered, and the teacher employed. The child is major, and all else is subsidiary. In the general scheme even the teacher takessecondary place. Teachers may come and go, but the child remains as thefocus of all plans and purposes. The teacher is secured for the child, and not the child for the teacher. Taxpayers, boards of education, parents, and teachers are all active in the interests of the child; andall school legislation, to be important, must have the child as itsprime objective. Colleges of education and normal schools, in largenumbers, are working at the educational problem in an effort to developmore effective methods of training the teachers of the child. A host ofauthors and publishers are giving to the interest of the child theproducts of their skill. In every commonwealth may be found a largenumber of men and women whose time and energies are devoted to the workof the schools for the child. 

=All children should have school privileges. =--All these facts arefreely admitted, wherever attention is called to them, but we still havetruant officers, and child labor laws. We admit the facts, but, in ourpractices, strive to circumvent their application. If the school is goodfor one child, it is good for all children. Indeed, the school ismaintained on the assumption that all children will take advantage ofand profit by its presence. If there were no schools, our civilizationwould surely decline. If school attendance should cease at the end ofthe fifth year, then we would have a fifth-year civilization. It rests, therefore, with the parents of the children, in large measure, whetherwe are to have an eighth-grade civilization, a high-school civilization, or a college civilization. 

=Parental attitude. =--Schools are administered on the assumption thatevery child is capable of and worthy of training, and that training thechild will make for a better quality of civilization. The state regardsthe child as a liability during his childhood in the hope that he may bean asset in his manhood. In this hope time and money are devoted to histraining. But, in the face of all this, there are parents, here andthere, who still look upon their own children as assets and would usethem for their own comfort or profit. They seem to think that theirchildren are indebted to them for bringing them into the world and thattheir obligation to the children is canceled by meager provision offood, shelter, and clothing. They seem not to realize that "life is morethan fruit or grain, " and deny to their children the elements of life. 

=The rights of the child. =--All this is a sort of preface to thestatement that the child comes into the world endowed with certaininherent rights that may not be abrogated. He has a right to life in itsbest and fullest sense, and no one has a right to abridge this measureof life, or to deprive him of anything that will contribute to such alife. He goes to the school as one of the sources of life, and any onewho denies him this boon is doing violence to his right to have life. Hedoes not go to school to study arithmetic, but studies arithmetic as oneof the elements of life; and experience has demonstrated that arithmeticmay be learned in the school more advantageously than elsewhere. He goesto school to have agreeable and profitable life. Each day is an integerof life and must be made to abound in life if it is to be accounted asuccess. 

=Child life. =--Again, the child has a right to the quality of life thatis consistent with and congenial to his age. A seven-year-old should bea seven-year-old, in his thinking, in his activities, in his amusements, and in his feeling. We should never ask or want him to "put awaychildish things" at this age, for these childish things are a proof ofhis normality and good health. His buoyant life and good health mayprove disastrous to the furniture in his home, but far better marredfurniture than marred childhood. If, at this age, he should become asquiet and sedate as his father, his parents and teacher would have causefor alarm. It is the high privilege of the parent and the teacher todirect his activities, but not to abridge or interdict them. If theteacher would reduce him to inaction and silence, she may well reflectthat if he were an imbecile he would be quiet. He will not pass this wayagain; and if he is ever to have the sort of life that is in harmonywith his age, he must have it now. 

=Childhood curtailed. =--He has a right, also, to the full measure ofchildhood. This period is relatively short, and any curtailment doesviolence to his physiological and psychological nature. All the years ofhis childhood are necessary for a proper balancing of his physical andmental powers, that they may do their appointed work in after years. Entire volumes have been devoted to this subject, but, in spite of thesevolumes, some mothers still try to hurry their daughters into the dutiesand responsibilities of adult life. One such mother went to the highschool to get the books of her fifteen-year-old daughter and, upon beingasked why the daughter was leaving school, replied, "Oh, she's keepingcompany now. " That daughter will never be the hardy plant incivilization that she ought to be, because she was reared in a hothouseatmosphere. That mother had no right to cripple the life of her child bythwarting nature's decrees. 

=Detrimental effects. =--The pity of it all is that the child is at themercy of the parent, or of the teacher, as the case may be. We become soeager to have "old heads on young shoulders" that we begrudge the childthe years that are necessary for the shoulders to attain that maturityof strength that is needful for supporting the "old heads. " Then ensuesa lack of balance, and, were all children thus denied their right to thefull period of youth, we should have a distorted civilization. Dickensinveighs against this curtailment of youth prodigiously, and the marvelis that we have failed to learn the lesson from his pages. We need nothave recourse to Victor Hugo to know the life of little Cosette, for wecan see her prototype by merely looking about us. 

=The child's right to the best. =--As the child has a right to life inits fullness, so he has a right to all the agencies that can promotethis type of life. If he meets with an accident he has a right to thebest surgical skill that can be secured, and this right we readilyconcede; and equally he has a right to the best teacher that money willsecure. If he has a teacher that is less than the best, the time thuslost can never be restored to him. A lady who had an unskillful teacherin her first year in the high school now avers that he maimed her forlife in that particular study. Life is such a delicate affair that itdemands expert handling. If we hope to have the child attain his rightto be an intelligent coöperating agent in promoting life in society, then no price is too great to pay for the expert teaching which willnurture the sort of life in him that will make him effective. 

=The child's native tendencies. =--Then, again, the child has a right tothe exercise of the native tendencies with which he is endowed. In fact, these tendencies should be the working capital of the teacher, thestarting points in her teaching. There was a time when the teacherpunished the child who was caught drawing pictures on his slate. Happilythat sort of barbarity disappeared, in the main, along with the slate. The vitalized teacher rejoices in the pictures that the child draws andturns this tendency to good account. Through this inclination to drawshe finds the real child and so, as the psychologists direct, she beginswhere the child is and sets about attaching to this native tendency thework in nature study, geography, or history. When she discovers aconstructive tendency in the child, she at once uses this in shiftingfrom analytic to synthetic exercises in the school order. If he enjoysmaking things, he will be glad of an opportunity to make devices, orproblems, or maps. 

=The play instinct. =--She makes large use, also, of the play instinctthat is one of his native tendencies. This instinct is constantlyreaching out for objects of play. The teacher is quick to note thechild's quest for objects and deftly substitutes some phase of schoolwork for marbles, balls, or dolls, and his playing proceeds apacewithout abatement of zest. The vitalized teacher knows how to attach thearithmetic to this play instinct and make it a fascinating game. Duringthe games of arithmetic, geography, history, or spelling, life is athigh tide in her school and the work is thorough in consequence. Work isrelieved of the onus of drudgery whenever it appears in the guise of agame, and the teacher who has skill in attaching school studies to theplay instinct of the child will make her school effective as well as adelight to herself and her pupils. In such a plan there is neither placenor occasion for coercion. 

=Self-expression. =--Another right of the child is the right to expresshimself. The desire for self-expression is fundamental in the humanmind, as the study of archæology abundantly proves. Since this is true, every school should be a school of expression if the nature of the childis to have full recognition. Without expression there is no impression, and without impression there is no education that has real value. Themore and better expression in the school, therefore, the more and betterthe education in that school. In the vitalized school we shall findfreedom of expression, and the absence of unreasoning repression. Thechild expresses himself by means of his hands, his feet, his face, hisentire body, and his organs of speech, and his expression through eitherof these means gives the teacher a knowledge of what to do. Theseexpressions may not be what the teacher would wish, but the expressionnecessarily precedes intelligent teaching. 

=Imagination. =--These expressions may reveal a vivid imagination, butthey are no less valuable as indices of the child's nature on thataccount. It is the very refinement of cruelty to try to interdict orstifle the child's imagination. But for the imagination of people in thepast we should not have the rich treasures of mythology that so delightus all. Every child with imagination is constructing a mythology of hisown, and from the gossamer threads of fancy is weaving a pattern of lifethat no parent or teacher should ever wish to forbid or destroy. Day byday, he sees visions and dreams dreams, and so builds for himself aworld in which he finds delight and profit. In this world he is king, and only profane hands would dare attempt to dethrone him. 

=The child's experiences. =--His experiences, whether in the real world, or in this world of fancy, are his capital in the bank of life; and hehas every right to invest this capital so as to achieve furtherincrements of life. In this enterprise, the teacher is his counselor andguide, and, in order that she may exercise this function sympatheticallyand rationally, she must know the nature and extent of his capital. Ifhe knows a bird, he may invest this knowledge so as to gain a knowledgeof many birds, and so, in time, compass the entire realm of ornithology. If he knows a flower, from this known he may be so directed that he maybecome a master in the unknown field of botany. If he knows coal, thisexperience may be made the open sesame to the realms of geology. Inshort, all his experiences may be capitalized under the direction of askillful teacher, and made to produce large dividends as an investmentin life. 

=Relation to school work. =--Thus the school becomes, for the child, aplace of and for real life, and not a place detached from life. There helives effectively, and joyously, because the teacher knows how toutilize his experiences and native dispositions for the enlargement ofhis life. He has no inclination to become a deserter or a tenant, forlife is agreeable there, and the school is made his chief interest. Hiswork is not doled out to him in the form of tasks, but is graciouslypresented as a privilege, and as such he esteems it. There he learns tolive among people of differing tastes and interests without abdicatinghis own individuality. There he learns that life is work and that workis the very quintessence of life. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. How should dividends on school investments be estimated?

2. What are the inherent rights of childhood?

3. What use may be made of play in the education of children?

4. Explain why adults are often unwilling to coöperate through lack ofopportunity to play in childhood. 

5. Illustrate from your own knowledge and experience how the exercise ofnative tendencies may be the means of education. 

6. What modes of self-expression should be used by pupils of elementaryschools? of high schools?

7. What may the vitalized teacher do to assist in the development ofself-expression? What should she refrain from doing?

8. Suggest methods whereby the teacher may discover the content of thechild's world. 

9. How may the child's experience, imagination, and expression beinterrelated?

10. Why is the twentieth century called the "age of the child"?

CHAPTER IV

THE CHILD OF THE FUTURE

=Rights of the coming generations. =--Any school procedure that limitsits interests and activities to the present generation takes a toorestricted view of the real scope of education. The children of the nextgeneration, and the next, are entitled to consideration if education isto do its perfect work and have complete and convincing justification. The child of the future has a right to grandfathers and grandmothers ofsound body and sound mind, and the schools and homes of the present arecharged with the responsibility of seeing to it that this right isvouchsafed to him. In actual practice our plans seem not to previsegrandfathers and grandmothers, and stop short even of fathers andmothers. The child of the next generation has a right to a father and amother of untainted blood, and neither the home nor the school canignore this right. 

=Transmitted weaknesses. =--If these rights are not scrupulouslyrespected by the present generation, the child of the future may comeinto the world under a handicap that all the educational agenciescombined can neither remove nor materially mitigate. If he is crippledin mind or in body because of excesses on the part of his progenitors, the schools and hospitals may help him through life in a sorry sort offashion, but his condition is evermore a reminder to him of how much hehas missed in comparison with the child of sound body and mind. If sucha child does not imprecate even the memory of the ancestors whosevitiated blood courses through his stricken body, it will be because hismind is too weak to reason from effect to cause or because hisaffliction has taught him large charity. He will feel that he has beenshamefully cheated in the great game of life, with no hope ofrestitution. By reason of this, his gaze is turned backward instead offorward, and this is a reversal of the rightful attitude of child life. Instead of looking forward with hope and happiness, he droops through asomber life and constantly broods upon what might have been. 

=Attitude of ancestors. =--Whether he realizes it or not, he reduces theaverage of humanity and is a burden upon society both in a negative andin a positive sense. In him society loses a worker and gains adependent. Every taxpayer of the community must contribute to thesupport which he is unable to provide for himself. He watches otherchildren romp and play and laugh; but he neither romps, nor plays, norlaughs. He is inert. Some ancestor chained him to the rock, and thevultures of disease and unhappiness are feeding at his vitals. He asksfor bread, and they give him a stone; he asks for life, and they givehim a living death; he asks for a heaven of delight, and they give him ahell of despair. He has a right to freedom, but, in place of that, he isforced into slavery of body and soul to pay the debts of hisgrandfather. Nor can he pay these debts in full, but must, perforce, pass them on to his own children. Sad to relate, the father andgrandfather look upon such a child and charge Providence with unjustdealing in burdening them with such an imperfect scion to uphold thefamily name. They seem blind to the patent truth before them; they seemunable to interpret the law of cause and effect; they charge theAlmighty and the child with their own defections; they acquit themselvesof any responsibility for what is before their eyes. 

=Hospitals cited. =--Our hospitals for abnormal and subnormal children, and our eleemosynary institutions, in general, are a sad commentary uponour civilization and something of a reflection upon the school as anexponent of and a teacher of life. If the wards of these institutions, barring the victims of accidents, are the best we can do in the way ofcoming upon a solution of the problem of life, neither society nor theschool has any special warrant for exultation. These defectives did notjust happen. The law of life is neither fortuitous nor capricious. Onthe contrary, like begets like, and the law is immutable. With lavishhand, society provides the pound of cure but gives only superficialconsideration to the ounce of prevention. The title of education will becloudy until such time as these institutions have become a thing of thepast. Both pulpit and press extol the efforts of society to build, equip, and maintain these institutions, and that is well; but, with allthat, we are merely trying to make the best of a bad situation. Education will not fully come into its own until it takes into the scopeof its interests the child of the future as well as the child of thepresent; not until it comes to regard the children of the present asfuture ancestors as well as future citizens. 

=The child as a future ancestor. =--If the children of the future are toprove a blessing to society and not a burden, then the children of thepresent need to become fully conscious of their responsibilities asagencies in bringing to pass this desirable condition. If the teacher orparent can, somehow, cause the boy of to-day to visualize his owngrandson, in the years to come, pointing the finger of scorn at him andcalling down maledictions upon him because of a taint in the familyblood, that picture will persist in his consciousness, and will prove adeterrent factor in his life. The desire for immortality is innate inevery human breast, we are taught, but certainly no boy will wish toachieve that sort of immortality. He will not consider with complacencythe possibility of his becoming a pariah in the estimation of hisdescendants, and will go far in an effort to avert such a misfortune. There is no man but will shudder when he contemplates the possibility ofhaving perpetuated upon his gravestone or in the memory of hisgrandchild the word "Unclean. "

=The heart of the problem. =--Here we arrive at the very heart of theproblem that confronts the home and the school. We may close our eyes, or look another way, but the problem remains. We may not be able tosolve it, but we cannot evade it. Each day it calls loudly to everyparent and every teacher for a solution. The health and happiness of thecoming generations depend upon the right education of the present one, and this responsibility the home and the school can neither shirk norshift. We take great unction to ourselves for the excellence of thehorses, pigs, and cattle that we have on exhibition at the fairs, butare silent as to our failures in the form of children, that drag out ahalf-life in our hospitals. In one state it costs more to care for thedefectives and unfortunates than to provide schooling facilities for allthe normal children, but this fact is not written into party platformsnor proclaimed from the stump. In the face of such a fact society seemsto proceed upon the agreeable assumption that the less said the better. 

=Misconceptions. =--We temporize with the fundamental situation by theuse of such soporifics as the expressions "necessary evil" and the like, but that leaves us exactly at the starting point. Many well-meaningpeople use these expressions with great frequency and freedom and seemto think that in so doing they have given a proof of virtue and publicspirit. It were worthy only of an iconoclast to deprecate or disparagethe legislative attempts to foster clean living. All such efforts areworthy of commendation; but in sadness it must be confessed that, laudable as these efforts are, they have not produced results that arewholly satisfactory. Defectives are still granted licenses to perpetuatetheir kind; children still enervate their bodies and minds by the use ofnarcotics; and society daintily lifts its skirts as it hurries past theevil, pretending not to see. Legislation is an attempt to express publicsentiment in statutory form; but public sentiment must precedelegislation if it is to become effective. Efforts have been made throughthe process of legislation to deny the granting of marriage licenses topeople who are physically unsound, but the efforts came to naughtbecause public sentiment has not attained to this plane of thinking. Hence, we shall not have much help from legislation in solving ourproblem, until public sentiment has been educated. 

=The responsibility of the school. =--This education must come, in largepart, through the schools, but even these will fail until they come intoa full realization of the fact that their field of effort is life in thelarge. Time was when the teacher thought she was employed to teachgeography, grammar, and arithmetic. Then she enlarged this to includeboys and girls. And now she needs to make another addition and realizethat her function is to teach boys and girls the subject of Life, usingthe branches of study as a means to this end. In a report on the work ofthe schools at Gary, Indiana, the statement is made that the firstpurpose of these schools seems to be to produce efficient workers forthe mills. This seems to savor of the doctrine of educationalforeordination, and would make millwork and life synonymous. Life islarger than any mill. We may be justified in educating one horse for theplow and another for the race track, but this justification rests uponthe fact that horses are assets and not liabilities. 

=Clean living. =--Clean living in this generation will, undeniably, project itself into the next, and we have only to see to it that all theactivities of the school function in clean living in the child ofto-day, and we shall surely be safeguarding the interests of the childof the future. But clean living means more than mere externals. Thedaily bath, pure food, fresh air, and sanitary conditions are essentialbut not sufficient in themselves. Clean thinking, right motives, and ahigh respect for the rights and interests of the future must enter intothe scheme of life. There must be no devious ways, no back alleys, inthe scheme, but only the broad highway of life, open always to thesunlight and to the gaze of all mankind. All this must become thoroughlyenmeshed in the social consciousness and in the daily practice of everyindividual, before the school can lay claim to success in the art ofteaching efficient living. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Investigate the following agencies as means for providing futuregenerations with ancestors of untainted blood: legislation; moraleducation; physical education; sex hygiene and eugenics; penalinstitutions; medical science. 

2. Enumerate some of the physical and mental handicaps of the child whois not well born. 

3. What powerful appeal for clean living may be made to the adolescentyouth?

4. As a concrete example of children being punished for the sins oftheir fathers even unto the third and fourth generation, read thehistory of the Juke family. 

5. To what extent does the school share the responsibility for theimprovement of the physical and moral quality of the children of thefuture?

6. What kind of teaching is needed to meet this responsibility?

7. Reliable authorities have estimated that 60 per cent or 12, 000, 000 ofthe school children of America are suffering from removable physicaldefects; that 93 per cent of the school children of the country havedefective teeth; and that on the average the health of children who arenot in attendance at school is better than that of those who are inschool. In the light of these facts discuss the failure or success ofour schools in providing fit material for efficient citizenship. 

CHAPTER V

THE TEACHER-POLITICIAN

=The politician defined. =--The politician has been defined as one whomakes a careful study of the wants of his community and is diligent inhis efforts to supply these wants. This definition has, at the veryleast, the merit of mitigating, if not removing, the stigma thatattaches to politicians in the popular thought. Conceding thecorrectness of this definition, it must be evident that society is thebeneficiary of the work of the politician, and would be the gainer ifthe number of politicians were multiplied. The motive of self-interestlies back of all human activities, and education is constantly strivingto stimulate and accentuate this motive. Even in altruism we may find anadmixture of self-interest. The merchant who arranges his goodsartistically may hope by this means to win more patronage, but, asidefrom this, he wins a feeling of gratification. His self-interest maylook either toward a greater volume of business or to a better class ofpatrons, or both. While he is enlarging the scope of his business, hemay be elevating the taste of his customers. In either case hisself-interest is commendable. A successful merchant is better for thecommunity than an unsuccessful one. 

=Self-interest. =--The physician is actuated by the motive ofself-interest, also. His years of training are but a preparation for thecompetition that is certain to fall to his lot. He is gratified at theincrease of his popularity as a successful practitioner. But heprescribes modes of living as well as remedies, and so tries toforestall and prevent disease, while he is exercising his curativeskill. He tries not only to restore health, but also to promote goodhealth in the community by his recommendations of pure food, pure water, fresh air, and exercise. His motives are altruistic even while he isconsulting self-interest. None but the censorious will criticize theminister for accepting a larger parish even with a larger salaryattached. The larger parish will afford him a wider field forusefulness, and the larger salary will enable him to execute more of hislaudable plans. 

=The methods of the politician. =--Hence it will be seen that, in theright sense, merchants, physicians, and ministers are all politicians inthat they seek to expand the sphere of their activities. Like thepolitician they study the wants of the people in order to win a startingpoint for leadership. True, there are quacks, charlatans, hypocrites, and demagogues, but none of these, nor all combined, avail to disprovethe validity of the principle. It has often been said that the churcheswould do well to study and use the art of advertising that is so wellunderstood by the saloons. This is another way of saying that themethods of the politician will avail in promoting right activities aswell as wrong ones. The politician, whether he is a business man or aprofessional man, proceeds from the known to the related unknown, andthus shows himself a conscious or unconscious student of psychology. Hestudies that which is in order to promote that which should be. 

=Leadership. =--The politician aspires to leadership, and that ispraiseworthy, provided his cause is a worthy one. If the cause isunworthy, the cloven foot will soon appear and repudiation will ensue, which will mark him unsuccessful as a politician. He may be actuated bythe motive of self-interest, in common with all others, but thisinterest may focus in the amelioration of conditions as they are or inthe advancement of his friends. The satisfaction of leadership is thesole reward of many a politician, with the added pleasure of seeing hisfriends profit by this leadership. A statesman is a politician grownlarge--large in respect to motives, to plans and purposes, and tomethods. The fundamental principle, however, remains constant. 

=The politician worthy of imitation. =--The successful politician mustknow people and their wants. He must know conditions in order to directthe course of his activities. Otherwise, he will find himself moving atrandom, and this may prove disastrous to his purposes. Much misdirectedeffort has been expended in disparaging the politician and his methods. If the man and his methods were better understood, they would often befound worthy of close imitation in the home, in the school, in thechurch, in the professions, and in business. 

=Education and substitution. =--Education, in the large, is the processof making substitutions. Evermore, in school work, we are striving tosubstitute something better for something not so good. In brief, we arestriving to substitute needs for wants. But before we can do this wemust determine, by careful study and close observation, what the wantsare. Ability to substitute needs for wants betokens a high type ofleadership. The boy wants to read Henty, but needs to read Dickens orShakespeare. How shall the teacher proceed in order to make thesubstitution? Certainly it cannot be done by any mere fiat or ukase. Those who are incredulous as to the wisdom of establishing colleges ofeducation and normal schools to generate and promote methods of teachinghave here a concrete and pertinent question: Can a college of educationor normal school give to an embryo teacher any method by which she mayeffectively substitute Shakespeare for Henty?

=Methods contrasted. =--Some teachers have attempted to make thissubstitution by means of ridicule and sarcasm and then called the boystupid because he continued to read his Henty. Others have indulged inrhapsodies on Shakespeare, hoping to inoculate the boy with theShakespearean virus, and then called the boy stolid because he failed toshare their apparent rapture. The politician would have pursued neitherof these plans. His inherent or acquired psychology would haveadmonished him to begin where the boy is. He would have gone to Henty tofind the boy. Having found him, he would have sat down beside him andentered into his interest in the book. In time he would have foundsomething in the book to remind him of a passage in Shakespeare. Thispassage he would have read in his best style and then resumed thereading of Henty. Thus, by degrees, he would have effected thesubstitution, permitting the boy to think that this had been done on hisown initiative. 

=The principle illustrated. =--The vitalized teacher observes, profitsby, and initiates into her work the method of the politician and somakes her school work vital. Beginning with what the boy wants, shelures him along, by easy stages, until she has brought him within thecircle of her own wants, which are, in reality, the needs of the boy. The boy walks along in paces, let us say, of eighteen inches. Theteacher moderates her gait to harmonize with his, but graduallylengthens her paces to two feet. At first, she kept step with him; nowhe is keeping step with her and finds the enterprise an exhilaratingadventure. She is teaching the boy to walk in strides two feet inlength, and begins with his native tendency to step eighteen inches. Thus she begins where the boy is, by acquainting herself with his wants, attaches her teaching to his native tendencies, and then proceeds fromthe known to the related unknown. Libraries abound in books that explainlucidly this simple elementary principle of teaching, but many teachersstill seem to find it difficult of application. 

=Substitution illustrated. =--This method of substitution becomes therule of the school through the skill of the vitalized teacher. The lilyof the valley is substituted for the sunflower, in the children'sesteem, and there is generated a taste for the exquisite. The copy ofthe masterpiece of art supplants the bizarre chromo; correct forms ofspeech take the place of incorrect forms; the elegant usurps the placeof the inelegant; and the inartistic gives place to the artistic. Thecircle of their wants is extended until it includes their needs, andthese, in turn, are transformed into wants. Thus all the pupils ascendto a higher level of appreciation of the things that make for a morecomfortable and agreeable civilization. They work under the spell ofleadership, for real leadership always inspires confidence. 

=Society and the school. =--At its best, society is but an enlarged copyof the vitalized school. Or, to put it in another way, the vitalizedschool is society in miniature. As the school is engaged in the work ofmaking substitutions, so, in fact, is society. Legislative bodies arestriving to substitute wise laws for the laws that have fallen behindthe needs of the times, that the interests of society may be fullyconserved. The church is substituting better methods of work in all itsactivities for the methods that have become antiquated or ineffective. This it does in the hope that its influence may be broadened anddeepened. Ministers and officials are constantly pondering the questionof substitutions. The farmer is substituting better methods of tillingthe soil for the methods that were in vogue in a former time beforescience had invaded the realms of agriculture, to the end that he mayincrease the yield of his fields, make larger contributions to commerce, increase his profits, and so be better able to gratify some of thehigher desires of his nature. 

=The automobile factory. =--Each successive model in an automobilefactory is a concrete illustration of the process of makingsubstitutions, and each substituted part bears witness to a closescrutiny of past experiences as well as of the wants of prospectivepurchasers. The self-starter was a want at first; but now it is a need, and, therefore, a necessity. If the school would but make as carefulstudy of the boy's experiences and his wants as the manufacturer does inthe case of automobiles, and then would attach the substitutions tothese experiences and wants, the boy would very soon find himself inhappy possession of a self-starter which would prove to be the verycrown of school work. The automobile manufacturer is both a psychologistand a politician. 

=Results of substitutions. =--As a result of substitutions we have betterroads, better houses, better laws, cleaner streets, better fences, better machinery, more sanitary conditions, and a higher type ofconduct. We step to a higher level upon the experiences of the past andmake substitutions as we move upward. The progress of civilization ismeasured by the character of these substitutions and the rapidity withwhich they are made. The people on the Isle of Marken make but fewsubstitutions, and these only at long intervals, and so they are lookedupon as curiosities among humans. In all our missionary enterprises weare endeavoring to persuade the peoples among whom we are working tomake substitutions. Instead of their own, we would have them accept ourbooks, our styles of clothing, our plans of government, our modes ofliving, our means of transportation, and, in short, our standards oflife. But, first of all, we must learn their standards of life;otherwise we cannot proceed intelligently or effectively in the line ofsubstitutions. We must know their language before we can teach themours, and we must translate our books into their language before we canhope to substitute our books for theirs. All the substitutions we hopeto make presuppose a knowledge of their wants. Hence the methods of themissionary bear a close analogy to the methods of the politician. 

=The Idealist. =--This is equally true of the vitalized teacher. She is apractical idealist. In the words of the poet, her reach is beyond hergrasp, and this proclaims her an idealist. In her capacity as apolitician she makes a close study of the wants of her constituents, both pupils and parents, and so learns how best to articulate schoolwork with the interests of the community. She does not hold aloof fromher pupils or their homes, but studies them at close range, as do themissionary and the politician. She lives among them and so learns theirlanguage and their modes of thinking and living. Only so can she comeinto sympathetic relations with them and be of greatest service to themin promoting right substitutions. She finds one boy surcharged with theinstinct of pugnacity. This tendency manifests itself both in school andat home. Her own conclusions are ratified by the parents. He wants tofight. His whole nature cries aloud for battle. In such a case, neitherrepression nor suppression will avail. So she attaches a phase of schoolwork to this native disposition and gives his pugnacious instinct a fairfield. 

=An example. =--Enlisting him as her champion in a tournament, she pitsagainst him a doughty antagonist in the form of a problem in arithmetic. In tones of encouragement she gives the signal and the fight is on. Theboy pummels that problem as he would belabor a schoolmate on theplayground. His whole being is focused upon the adventure. And when hehas won his meed of praise, he feels himself a real champion. Theteacher merely substituted mind for hands in the contest and so fell inwith his notion that fighting is quite right if only the cause is aworthy one. He is quick to see the distinction and so makes thesubstitution with alacrity and with no loss of self-respect. Ever afterhe disdains the vulgar brawl and does not lose the fighting instinct. Thus the vitalized teacher by knowing how to make substitutions wins forsociety a valiant champion. If we multiply this example, we shallreadily see how such a teacher-politician deserves the distinction ofbeing termed a practical idealist. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Distinguish the following terms: demagogue; politician; statesman;and practical idealist. 

2. Subject to what limitations should a successful teacher be apolitician?

3. Enumerate the qualities of a successful politician that teachersshould possess. 

4. How does the author define education? Criticize this definition. 

5. What resemblances has the process of education to the evolution ofmachinery? to the evolution of biological species?

6. Describe methods by which the tactful teacher may secure helpfulsubstitutions in the child's life. 

7. In what respects does society resemble a vitalized school?

8. Illustrate how teachers may utilize for the education of the childseemingly harmful instincts. 

CHAPTER VI

SUBLIME CHAOS

=Acquisitiveness. =--In fancy, at least, we may attain a position overand far above the city of London and from this vantage-place, with theaid of strong glasses, watch a panorama that is both entrancing andbewildering. The scene bewilders not alone by its scope, but still moreby its complexity. The scene is a shifting one, too, never the same intwo successive minutes. Here is Trafalgar Square, with its noblemonument and the guardian lions, reminding us of Nelson in what isaccounted one of the most heroic naval engagements recorded in history. As we look, we reconstitute the scene, far away, in which he wasconspicuous, and reread in our books his stirring appeal to his men. Thence we glance up Regent Street and see it thronged with equipagesthat betoken wealth and luxury. Richly dressed people in great numbersare moving to and fro and giving color to the picture. A shabby garbcannot be made to fit into this picture. When it appears, there isdiscord in the general harmony. All this motion must have motives behindit somewhere; but we can only conjecture the motives. We have onlysurface indications to guide us in our quest for these. But we arereasonably certain that these people are animated by the instinct ofacquisition. They seem to want to get things, and so come where thingsare to be had. 

=Desires for things intangible. =--There are miles of vehicles of manykinds wending their tortuous, sinuous ways in and out along streets thatradiate hither and thither. They stay their progress for a moment andpeople emerge at Robinson's, at Selfridge's, at Liberty's. Each of theseis the Mecca of a thousand desires, and faces beam with pleasure whenthey reappear. Some desire has evidently been gratified. Others alightat the National Gallery and enter its doors. When they come forth it isobvious that something happened to them inside that building. The linesof care on their faces are not so evident, and their step is moreelastic and buoyant. Their desires did not have tangible things as theirobjectives as in the case of the people who entered the shops formerchandise, but their faces shine with a new light and, therefore, their quest must have been successful. As we look, we realize thatdesires for intangible things may be as acute as for tangible ones, andthat the gratification of these desires produces equal satisfaction. 

=Westminster Abbey. =--Not far away other throngs are invadingWestminster Abbey. In those historic and hallowed precincts they arecommuning with the Past, the Present, and the Future. All about them isthe sacred dust of those who once wrought effectively in affairs ofstate and in the realm of letters. History and literature have theirshrine there, and these people are worshipers at that shrine. All aboutthem are reminders of the Past, while the worshipers before the Crossdirect their thoughts to the Future. Earth and Heaven both send forth aninvitation for supreme interest in their thoughts and feelings. Historyand literature call to them to emulate the achievements whose monumentsthey see about them, while the Cross admonishes them that theseachievements are but temporal. Here they experience a fulfillment oftheir desires. Their knowledge is broadened, and their faith is liftedup. The Past thrills them; the Future inspires them; and thus thePresent is far more worth while. 

=House of Parliament. =--Across the way is Parliament, and this conjuresup a long train of events of vast import. The currents that flow outfrom this power-house have encircled the globe. Here conquests have beenplanned that electrified nations. Here have been generated vast armiesand navies as messengers of Desire. Here have been voted vast treasuresin execution of the desires of men for territorial extension andnational aggrandizement. These halls have resounded with the eloquenceof men who were striving to inoculate other men with the virus of theirdesires; and the whole world has stood on tiptoe awaiting the issue ofthis eloquence. Momentous scenes have been enacted here, all emanatingfrom the desires of men, and these scenes have touched the lives ofuntold millions of people. 

=Commerce. =--We see the Thames near by, teeming with ships from theuttermost corners of the earth, and we think of commerce. We use theword glibly, but no mind is able to comprehend its full import. We knowthat these ships ply the seas, bearing food and clothing to the peopleswho live far away, but when we attempt to estimate the magnitude ofcommerce, the mind confesses to itself that the problem is too great. Wemay multiply the number of ships by their tonnage, but we get, inconsequence, an array of figures so great that they cease to have anymeaning for the finite mind. The best and most that they can do for usis to make us newly aware that the people who dwell in the jungles ofAfrica, who roam the pampas of South America, who climb the Alps, theRockies, the Andes, and the Himalayas, all have desires that these shipsare striving to gratify. 

=Social intercourse. =--Going up the river to Hampton Court we see peopleout for a holiday. There are house-boats with elaborate and artisticfittings and furnishings, and other craft of every sort that luxury cansuggest. One could imagine that none but fairies could stage such ascene. The blending of colors, the easy dalliance, the ripplinglaughter, the graceful feasting, and the eddying wavelets all conspireto produce a scene that serves to emphasize the beauty of the shores. Underneath this enchanting scene of variegated beauty we discover thefundamental fact that man is a gregarious animal, that he not onlycraves association with his kind but that playing with them brings himinto more harmonious communion with them. In their play they meet uponthe plane of a common purpose and are thus unified in spirit. Hence, allthis beauty and gayety is serving a beneficent purpose in the way ofgratifying the inherent desire of mankind for social intercourse. 

=The travel instinct. =--At Charing Cross the commerce drama isreënacted, only here with trains instead of boats, and, mainly, peopleinstead of merchandise. Here we see hurry and bustle, and hear theshriek of the engine and the warning blast of the guard. Trains aregoing out, trains are coming in. When the people step out upon theplatforms, they seem to know exactly whither they are bound. There areporters all about to help them achieve their desires, and cabs standready at the curb to do their bidding. Here is human commerce, and thetrains are the answer to the call of the human family to see their ownand other lands. These trains are swifter and more agreeable for nomadsthan the camel of the desert or the Conestoga wagon of the prairie. Thenomadic instinct pulls and pushes people away from their own door-yards;hence railways, trains, engines, air brakes, telegraph lines, wirelessapparatuses, and all the many other devices that the mind of man hasdesigned at the behest of this desire to roam about. 

=Monuments. =--Further down the Thames we see Greenwich, which regulatesthe clocks for the whole world, and furnishes the sea captain thetalisman by which he may know where he is. Over against St. Paul's isthe Bank of England, which for long years ruled the finances of theworld. Yonder is the Museum, the conservator of the ages. There is theRosetta Stone, which is the gateway of history; there the Elgin Marbles, which proclaim the glory of the Greece that was; there the palimpsestswhich recall an age when men had time to think; and there the books ofall time by means of which we can rethink the big thoughts of men longsince gone from sight. There are things that men now call curiositiesthat mark the course of minds in their struggles toward the light; andthere are the sentiments of lofty souls that will live in the hearts ofmen long after these giant stones have crumbled. 

=Desire for pastoral beauty. =--Beyond the city, in the alluring countryplaces, we see a landscape that delights the senses, ornate with hedges, flowers, vine-clad cottages, highways of surpassing smoothness, fertilefields, and thrifty flocks and herds. There are carts and wagons on theroads bearing the products of field and garden to the marts of trade. Men, women, and children zealously ply the hoe, the plow, or the shovel, abetting Nature in her efforts to feed the hungry. In this pastoralscene there is dignity, serenity, and latent power. Its beauty answersback to the æsthetic nature of mankind, and nothing that is artificialcan ever supplant it in the way of gratifying man's desire for thebeautiful. 

=Economic articulation. =--Through all the diversified phases of thispanorama there runs a fundamental principle of unity. There are nocollisions. In the economy of civilization the farmer is coördinate withthe artist, the artisan, and the tradesman. But, if all men werefarmers, the economic balance would be disturbed. The railroad engineeris major because he is indispensable. So, also, is the farmer, thelegislator, the artist, and the student. There is a degree ofinterdependence that makes for economic harmony. The articulation of allthe parts gives us an economic whole. 

=Aspirations. =--This panorama is a picture of life; and the school islife. Hence the panorama and the school are identical; only the schoolis larger than the panorama, even though the picture is reduced in sizeto fit the frame of the school. The pupils in the school have dreams andaspirations that reach far beyond the limits of the picture of ourfancy. And all these aspirations are a part of life and so areindigenous in the vitalized school. And woe betide the teacher who wouldabridge or repress these dreams and aspirations. They are the very warpand woof of life, and the teacher who would eliminate them wouldsuppress life itself. That teacher is in sorry business who would fither pupils out with mental or spiritual strait-jackets, or mold them tosome conventional pattern, even though it be her own. These pupils arethe prototypes of the people in our panorama, and are, therefore, animated by like inclinations and desires. 

=Desire is fundamental. =--Here is a boy who is hungry; he desires food. But so does the man who is passing along the street. The man is focusingall his mental powers upon the problem of how he shall procure food. Theman's problem is the boy's problem and each has a right to a solution ofhis problem. The school's business is to help the boy solve his problemand not to try to quench his desire for food or try to persuade him thatno such desire exists. This desire is one of the native dispositions towhich the work of the school is to attach itself. Desires arefundamental in the scheme of education, the very tentacles that will layhold upon the school activities and render them effective. The teacher'slarge task is to strengthen and nourish incipient desires and to causethe pupil to hunger and thirst after the means of gratifying them. 

=Innate tendencies. =--Each pupil has a right to his inherentindividuality. The school should not only begin where the boy is, butshould begin its work upon what he is. Only so can it direct him towardwhat he ought to be. If the boy would alight at the National Gallery inorder to regale himself with the masterpieces of art, why, pray, shouldthe teacher try to curtail this desire and force him into WestminsterAbbey? If she will accompany him into the Gallery and prove herself hisfriend and guide among the treasures of art, she will, doubtless, experience the joy of hearing him ask her to be his companion throughthe Abbey later on. The Abbey is quite right in its way and the boy mustvisit it soon or late, but to this particular boy the Gallery comesfirst and he should be led to the Abbey by way of the Gallery. In schoolwork the parties are all personally conducted, but the rule is that aparty is composed of but one person. 

=Illustration. =--The girl is not to be condemned because she desires tovisit the Selfridge shop rather than the Museum. The teacher mayrhapsodize upon the Museum to the limit of her strength, but the girl isthinking of the beautiful fabrics to be seen at the shop, and, especially, of the delicious American ice cream that can be had nowhereelse in London. It is rather a poor teacher who cannot lead the girl tothe British Museum by way of Selfridge's. If the teacher finds the taskdifficult, she would do well to traverse the route a few times inadvance. The ice cream will help rather than hinder when they stand, atlength, before the Rosetta Stone or read the original letter to Mrs. Bixby. The store and the Museum are both in the picture, and the teachermust determine which should come first in the itinerary of this girl. The native dispositions and desires will point out the way to theteacher. 

The old-time schoolmaster was fond of setting as a copy in theold-fashioned copy book "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy";but, later, when he caught Jack playing he gave him a flogging, thusproving himself both inconsistent and deficient in a knowledge ofpsychology and fair play. If we are going to Greenwich we shall savetime by taking the longer journey by way of Hampton Court. As we disportourselves amid the beauties and gayeties of the Court we can prolong ourpleasures by anticipating Greenwich, and so make our play the anteroomof our work. 

=Variety in excellence. =--In the vitalized school we shall find eachpupil eager in his quest of food for the hunger he feels, and theteacher rejoicing in the development of his individuality. She would nothave all her pupils attain the same level even of excellence. They aredifferent, and she would have them so. Nor would she have her schoolexemplify the kind of order that is to be found in a gallery of statues. Her school is a place of life, eager, yearning, pulsating life, and nota place of dead and deadening silence. Her pupils have diversifiedtastes and desires and, in consequence, diversified activities, but workis the golden cord that binds them in a healthy and healthful unity. This is sublime chaos, a busy, happy throng, all working at fullstrength at tasks that are worth while, and all animated by hopes andaspirations that reach out to the very limits of space. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. What may the school do to give helpful direction and neededmodifications to the instinct of acquisition?

2. The ultimate ends of education are more efficient production and moreintelligent consumption. How and by what means may the school bringabout a more intelligent choice of tangible and intangible things?

3. What hint may the teacher of geography receive from the briefdescription of London's points of interest?

4. Compare a vitalized school with the panorama of London. 

5. To what extent must individual differences be recognized by theteacher in the recitation? in discipline?

6. Suggest means whereby pupils may be induced to spend their eveningswith Dickens, Eliot, Macaulay, or Irving in preference to the "movies. "

CHAPTER VII

DEMOCRACY

=A conflict. =--There was a fight on a railway train--a terrific fight. The conductor and two other Americans were battling against ten or moreforeigners. These foreigners had come aboard the train at a mining townen route to the city for a holiday. The train had hardly got under way, after the stop, when the fight was on. The battle raged back and forthfrom one car to the other across the platform amid the shouts andcursing of men and the screams of women. Bloody faces attested theintensity of the conflict. One foreigner was knocked from the train, butno account was taken of him. The train sped on and the fight continued. Nor did its violence abate until the train reached the next station, where the conductor summoned reënforcements and invoked the majesty ofthe law in the form of an officer. The affray, from first to last, wasmost depressing and gave to the unwilling witness a feeling thatcivilization is something of a misnomer and that men are inherentlyferocious. 

=Misconceptions. =--More mature reflection, however, served to modifythis judgment, and the application of some philosophy resolved thedistressing combat into a relatively simple proposition. The conductorand his assistants were fighting for their conception of order, andtheir opponents were fighting for their conception of manhood. Reducedto its primal elements, the fight was the result of a dualmisconception. The conductor was battling to vindicate his conception oforder; the foreigners were battling to vindicate their conception of therights of men in a democracy. Neither party to the contest understoodthe other, and each one felt himself to be on the defensive. Neither onewould have confessed himself the aggressor, and yet each one wasinvading the supposed rights of the other. Judicial consideration couldreadily have averted the whole distressing affair. 

=Foreign concept of democracy. =--The foreigners had come to our countrywith roseate dreams of democracy. To their conception, this is the landwhere every man is the equal of every other man; where equal rights andprivileges are vouchsafed to all men without regard to nationality, position, or possessions; where there is no faintest hint of the castesystem; and where there are no possible lines of demarcation. Theirdisillusionment on that train was swift and severe, and the observercould not but wonder what was their conception of a democracy as theywalked about the streets of the city or gave attention to their bruisedfaces. Their dreams of freedom and equal rights must have seemed amockery. They must have felt that they had been lured into a trap bysome agency of cruelty and injustice. After such an experience they musthave been unspeakably homesick for their native land. 

="Melting pot. "=--Their primary trouble arose from the fact that theyhad not yet achieved democracy, but had only a hazy theoreticalconception of its true meaning. Nor did the conductor give them anyassistance. On the contrary he pushed them farther away into the realmof theory, and rendered them less susceptible to the influence of thefeeling for democracy. Before these foreigners can become thoroughlyassimilated they must know this feeling by experience; and until thisexperience is theirs they cannot live comfortably or harmoniously in ourdemocracy. To do this effectively is one of the large tasks thatconfront the American school and society as a whole. If we fail here, the glory of democracy will be dimmed. All Americans share equally inthe responsibility of this task. The school, of course, must assume itsfull share of this responsibility if it would fully deserve the name ofmelting pot. 

=Learning democracy. =--Meeting this responsibility worthily is not thesimple thing that many seem to conceive it to be. If it were, then anydiscussion appertaining to the teaching of democracy would besuperfluous. This subject of democracy is, in fact, the most difficultsubject with which the school has to do, and by far the most important. Its supreme importance is due to the fact that all the pupils expect tolive in a democracy, and, unless they learn democracy, life cannotattain to its maximum of agreeableness for them nor can they make thelargest possible contributions to the well-being of society. It has beensaid that the seventeenth century saw Versailles; the eighteenth centurysaw the Earth; and the nineteenth century saw Humanity. Then the verypertinent question is asked, "Which century will see Life?" We who loveour country and our form of government fondly hope that we may be thefirst to see Life, and, if this privilege falls to our lot, we must cometo see life through the medium of democracy. 

=The vitalized school a democracy. =--Life seems to be an abstractsomething to many people, but it must become concrete before they canreally see it as it is. Democracy is a means, therefore, of transformingabstract life into concrete life, and so we are to come into a fullercomprehension of life through the gateway of democracy. The vitalizedschool is a laboratory of life and, at the same time, it is the mostnearly perfect exemplification of democracy. The nearer its approach toperfection in exemplifying the spirit and workings of a democracy, thelarger service it renders society. If the outflow from the school intosociety is a high quality of democracy, the general tone of society willbe improved. If society deteriorates, the school may not be wholly atfault, but it evidently is unable to supply to society reënforcement insuch quantity and of such quality as will keep the level up to normal. 

=Responsibility of the individual. =--In society each individual raisesor lowers the level of democracy according to what he is and does. Theidler fails to make any contributions to the well-being of society andthus lowers the average of citizenship. The trifler and dawdler lowerthe level of democracy by reason of their inefficiency. They mayexercise their right to vote but fail to exercise their right to act thepart of efficient citizens. If all citizens emulated their example, democracy would become inane and devitalized. Tramps, burglars, feeble-minded persons, and inebriates lower the level of democracybecause of their failure to render their full measure of service, andbecause, in varying degrees, they prey upon the resources of society andthus add to its burdens. Self-reliance, self-support, self-respect, aswell as voting, are among the rights that all able-bodied citizens mustexercise before democracy can come into its rightful heritage. 

=The function of the school. =--All this and much more the schools mustteach effectively so that it shall be thoroughly enmeshed in the socialconsciousness or their output will reveal a lack of those qualities thatmake for the larger good of democratic society. Democracy must begrooved into habits of thought and action or the graduates of theschools will fall short of achieving the highest plane of living in thecommunity. They will not be in harmony with their environment, andfriction will ensue, which will reduce, in some degree, the level ofdemocracy. Hence, the large task of the school is to inculcate the habitof democracy with all that the term implies. Twelve years are none toolong for this important work, even under the most favorable conditionsand under the direction of the most skillful teaching. Indeed, civiceconomy will be greatly enhanced if, in the twelve years, the schoolsaccomplish this one big purpose. 

=Manifestations of democratic spirit. =--We may not be able to resolvedemocracy into its constituent elements, but the spirit that is attunedto democracy is keenly alive to its manifestations. The spirit soattuned is quick to detect any slightest discord in the democraticharmony. This is especially true in the school democracy. A discordantnote affects the entire situation and militates against effectiveprocedure. In the school democracy we look for a series and system ofcompromises, --for a yielding of minor matters that major ones may beachieved. We look for concessions that will make for the comfort andprogress of the entire body, and we experience disappointment if we failto discover some pleasure in connection with these concessions. Weexpect to see good will banishing selfishness and every semblance ofmonopoly. We expect to find every pupil glad to share the time andstrength of the teacher with his fellows even to the point ofgenerosity, and to find joy in so doing. We expect to find each pupileager to deposit all his attainments and capabilities as assets of theschool and to find his chief joy in the success of all that the schoolrepresents. 

=Obstacles in the path. =--But it is far easier to depict democracy thanto teach it. In fact, the teacher is certain to encounter obstacles, andmany of these have their source in American homes. Indeed, some of themost fertile sources of discord in the school may be traced to amisconception of democracy on the part of the home. One of thesemisconceptions is a species of anarchy, which appropriates to itself thegentler name of democracy. But, none the less, it is anarchy. Itdisdains all law and authority, treads under foot the precepts of thehome and the school, flouts the counsels of parents and teachers, and isself-willed, obstinate, and defiant. Democracy obeys the law; anarchyscorns it. Democracy respects the rights of others, anarchy overridesthem. Democracy exalts good will; anarchy exalts selfishness. Democracyrespects the Golden Rule; anarchy respects nothing, not even itself. 

=Anarchy. =--When this spirit of anarchy gains access to the school, itis not easily eradicated for the reason that the home is loath torecognize it as anarchy, and resents any such implication on the part ofthe school. The father may be quite unable to exercise any control overthe boy, but he is reluctant to admit the fact to the teacher. Such aboy is an anarchist and no sophistry can gloss the fact. What he needsis a liberal application of monarchy to fit him for democracy. He shouldread the Old Testament as a preparation for an appreciative perusal ofthe New Testament. If the home cannot generate in him due respect forconstituted authority, then the school must do so, or he will prove amenace to society and become a destructive rather than a constructiveagency. Here we have a tense situation. Anarchy is running riot in thehome; the home is arrayed against the attempts of the school to correctthe disorder; and Democracy is standing expectant to see what will bedone. 

=Snobbery. =--Scarcely less inimical to democracy than anarchy issnobbery. The former is violent, while the latter is insidious. Bothpoison the source of the stream of democracy. If the home instills intothe minds of children the notion of inherent superiority, they willcarry this into the school and it will produce a discord. A farmer and atenant had sons of the same age. These lads played together, neverthinking of superiority or inferiority. Now the son of the tenant ispresident of one of the great universities, and the son of theproprietor is a janitor in one of the buildings of that university. Democracy presents to view many anomalies, and the school age is quitetoo early for anything approaching the caste system or snobbery. Thetime may come when the rich man's son will consider it an honor to drivethe car for his impecunious classmate. 

=Restatement. =--It needs to be repeated, therefore, that democracy isthe most difficult subject which the school is called upon to teach, notonly because it is difficult in itself, but also because of the attitudeof many homes that profess democracy but do not practice it. To theinfluence of such homes one may trace the exodus of many children fromthe schools. The parents want things done in their way or not at all, and so withdraw their children to vindicate their own autocracy. Theyare willing to profit by democracy but are unwilling to help foster itsgrowth. They not only lower the level of democracy but even compel theirchildren to lower it still more. The teacher may yearn for the childrenand the children for the teacher, but the home is inexorable andsacrifices the children to a misconception of democracy. 

=Coöperation. =--Democracy does not mean fellowship, but it does meancoöperation. It means that people in all walks of life are animated bythe common purpose to make all their activities contribute to thegeneral good of society. It means that the railroad president may shakehands with the brakeman and talk with him, man to man, encouraging himto aspire to promotion on merit. It means that this brakeman may becomepresident of the road with no scorn for the stages through which hepassed in attaining this position. It means that he may understand andsympathize with the men in his employ without fraternizing with them. Itmeans that every boy may aspire to a place higher than his father hasattained with no loss of affection for him. It does not mean eithersycophancy or truculence, but freedom to every individual to make themost of himself and so help others to make the most of themselves. 

=The democratic teacher. =--Democracy is learned not from books but fromthe democratic spirit that obtains in the school. If the teacher issurcharged with democracy, her radiating spirit sends out currents intothe life of each pupil, and the spirit of democracy thus generated inthem fuses them into homogeneity. Thus they become democratic by livingin the atmosphere of democracy, as the boy grew into the likeness of theGreat Stone Face. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. How may elementary teachers inculcate the principles of truedemocracy?

2. By what means may public schools assist in the transformation ofilliterate foreigners into "intelligent American citizens"?

3. What are some of the weaknesses of democracy which the public schoolmay remedy? the press? public officials? the people?

4. Are such affairs as are described in the beginning of the chapterpeculiar to democracies? Why or why not?

5. How may school discipline recognize democratic principles, therebylaying the foundation of respect for law and order by our futurecitizens?

6. What qualities of citizens are inconsistent with a high level ofdemocracy?

7. Discuss the extent to which the management of the classroom should bedemocratic. 

8. How may the monarchical government of a school fit pupils for ademocracy? How may it unfit them?

9. In what ways may the following institutions raise the level ofdemocracy: centralized schools? vocational schools? junior high schools?moonlight schools? evening schools?

CHAPTER VIII

PATRIOTISM

=Patriotism as a working principle. =--The vitalized school generates andfosters patriotism, not merely as a sentiment, but more particularly asa working principle. Patriotism has in it a modicum of sentiment, to besure, as do religion, education, the home, and civilization; butsentiment alone does not constitute real or true patriotism. The man whoshouts for the flag but pursues a course of conduct that bringsdiscredit upon the name of his country, belies the sentiment that hisshouting would seem to express. The truly patriotic man feels that heowes to his country and his race his whole self, --his mind, his time, and his best efforts, --and the payment of this obligation spells life tohim. Thus he inevitably interprets patriotism in terms of industry, economy, thrift, and the full conservation of time and energy, that hemay render a good account of his stewardship to his country. 

=Spelling as patriotism. =--With this broad conception in mind theteacher elevates patriotism to the rank of a motive and proceeds toorganize all the school activities in consonance with this conception. Actuated by this high motive the pupils, in time, come to look uponcorrect spelling not only as a comfort and a convenience, but also as aform of patriotism in that it is an exponent of intelligent observationand as such wins respect and commendation from people at home and peopleabroad. Or, to put the case negatively, if we were all deficient in thematter of spelling, the people of other lands would hold us up toridicule because of this defect; but if we are expert in the art ofspelling, they have greater respect for us and for our schools. Hence, such a simple matter as spelling tends to invest the flag of our countrywith better and fuller significance. Thus spelling becomes woven intothe life processes, not as a mere task of the school, but as a privilegevouchsafed to every one who yearns to see his country win distinction. 

=Patriotism a determining motive. =--In like manner the teacher runs theentire gamut of school studies and shows how each one may become amanifestation of patriotism. If she has her pupils exchange letters withpupils in the schools of other countries, they see, at once, that theirspelling, their writing, and their composition will all be carefullyassessed in the formation of an estimate of ourselves and our schools. It is evident, therefore, that the pupils will give forth their bestefforts in all these lines that the country they represent may appear tothe best advantage. In such an exercise the motive of patriotism willfar outweigh in importance the motive of grades. Besides, the lettersare written to real people about real life, and, hence, life andpatriotism become synonymous in their thinking, and all their schoolwork becomes more vital because of their patriotism. 

=History. =--In the study of history, the pupils readily discover thatthe men and women who have given distinction to their respectivecountries have done so, in the main, by reason of their attainments inscience, in letters, and in statesmanship. They are led to think ofGoethals in the field of applied mathematics; of Burbank in the realm ofbotany; of Edison in physics; of Scott and Burns in literature; of MaxMüller in philology; of Schliemann in archæology; of Washington andLincoln in the realm of statesmanship; and of Florence Nightingale andClara Barton in philanthropy. They discover that France deemed it anhonor to have Erasmus as her guest so long as he found it agreeable tolive in that country, and that many countries vied with one another inclaiming Homer as their own. Phillips Brooks was a patriot, not alonebecause of his profession of love for his country, but because of whathe did that added luster to the name of his country. 

=Efficiency. =--The study of physiology and hygiene affords a wide fieldfor the contemplation and practice of patriotic endeavor. The care ofthe body is a patriotic exercise in that it promotes health and vigor, and these underlie efficiency. Anything short of efficiency isunpatriotic because it amounts to a subtraction from the possible bestthat may be done to advance the interests of society. The shiftless manis not a patriot, nor yet the man who enervates his body by practicesthat render him less than efficient. The intemperate man may shoutlustily at sight of the flag, but his noise only proclaims his lack ofreal patriotism. An honest day's work would redound far more to theglory of his country than his noisy protestations. Seeing that behindevery deliberate action there lies a motive, the higher the motive themore noble will be the action. If, then, we can achieve temperancethrough the motive of patriotism, society will be the beneficiary, notonly of temperance itself, but also of many concomitant benefits. 

=Temperance. =--Temperance may be induced, of course, through the motivesof economy, good health, and the like, but the motive of patriotismincludes all these and, therefore, stands at the summit. Waste, inwhatever form, is evermore unpatriotic. Conservation is patriotism, whether of natural resources, human life, human energy, or time. Theintemperate man wastes his substance, his energies, his opportunities, his self-respect, and his moral fiber. Very often, too, he becomes acharge upon society and abrogates the right of his family to livecomfortably and agreeably. Hence, he must be accounted unpatriotic. Ifall men in our country were such as he, our land would be derided by theother nations of the world. He brings his country into disrepute insteadof glorifying it because he does less than his full share incontributing to its well-being. He renders himself less than a typicalAmerican and brings reproach upon his country instead of honor. 

=Sanitation. =--One of the chief variants of the general subject ofphysiology and hygiene is sanitation, and this, even yet, affords afield for aggressive and constructive patriotism. Grime and crime gohand in hand; but, as a people, we have been somewhat slow in ourrecognition of this patent truth. Patriotism as well as charity shouldbegin at home, and the man who professes a love for his country shouldmake that part of his country which he calls his home so sanitary and soattractive that it will attest the sincerity of his profession. If heloves his country sincerely, he must love his back yard, and what hereally loves he will care for. It does him no credit to have the flagfloating above a home that proclaims his shiftlessness. His feeling forsanitation, attractiveness, and right conditions as touching his ownhome surroundings will expand until it includes his neighborhood, hiscounty, his State, and his entire country. 

=A typical patriot. =--A typical patriot is the busy, intelligent, frugal, cultured housewife whose home is her kingdom and who uses herpowers to make that kingdom glorious. She regrets neither the time northe effort that is required to make her home clean, artistic, andcomfortable. She places upon it the stamp of her character, industry, and good taste. She supplies it with things that delight the senses andpoint the way to culture. To such a home the crude and the bizarre are aprofanation. She administers her home as a sacred trust in the interestsof her family and never for exhibition purposes. Her home is anexpression of herself, and her children will carry into life thestandards that she inculcates through the agency of the home. Life isbetter for the family and for the community because her home is what itis, and, in consequence, her patriotism is far-reaching in itsinfluence. If all homes were such as this, our country would beexploited as representing the highest plane of civilization the worldhas yet attained. The vitalized teacher is constantly striving to havethis standard of home and home life become the standard of her pupils. 

=Mulberry Bend. =--In striking contrast with this home are conditions inMulberry Bend, New York, as described by a writer thoroughly conversantwith conditions as they were until recently--conditions, however, nowmuch bettered: "These alleys, running from nowhere to nowhere, alongsidecellars where the light never enters and where nothing can live butbeast-men and beast-women and rats; behind foul rookeries where skulkthe murderer and the abandoned tramp; beside hideous plague-spots wherethe stench is overpowering--Bottle Alley, where the rag-pickers piletheir bags of stinking stuff, and the Whyo Roost where evil-visagedbeings prowl about, hunting for prey; dozens of alleys winding in andout and intersecting, so that the beast may slay his prey, and hide inthe jungle, and be safe; these foul alleys--who shall picture them, orexplore their depths, or describe their wretchedness and theirhideousness?. .. Upon the doorsteps weary mothers are nursing littlebabies who will never know the meaning of innocent childhood, but willbe versed in the immoral lore of the Underworld before they learn theiralphabet. Ragged children covered with filth play about the pushcartsand the horses in the street, while their mothers chatter in greasydoorways, or shout from upper windows into the hordes below, or clatterabout creaky floors, preparing the foul mess of tainted edibles whichconstitutes a meal. "

With many other phases of this gruesome picture this author deals, andthen concludes with the following: "But in the rookeries which, liketheir inmates, skulk and hide out of sight in the crowded street; inthese ramshackle structures which line the back alleys, and there breedtheir human vermin amid dirt and rags--in these there is no directsunlight throughout the long year. Rookeries close to the front windows, shutting out light and air, and rookeries close to the rear windows, androokeries close to each side, and never a breath of fresh air toventilate one of these holes wherein men and women and children wallowin dirt, and live and fight and drink and die, and finally give way toothers of their kind. " So long as such conditions as these continue inour country, sanitation as a manifestation of patriotism will not havedone its perfect work, and the stars and stripes of our flag will lacksomewhat of their rightful luster. 

=Patriotism in daily life. =--When the influences of hygiene and of homeeconomics, taught as life processes and not merely as prerequisites forgraduation, by teachers who regard them as forms of patriotism, --whenthese influences have percolated to every nook and cranny of ournational life, --to the homes, the streets and alleys, the farms, theshops, the factories, and the mines, such conditions as these willdisappear, and we as a nation shall then have a clearer warrant for ourprofession of patriotic interest in and devotion to the welfare of ourcountry as a whole. But so long as we can look upon insanitaryconditions without a shudder; so long as we permit dirt to breed diseaseand crime; so long as we make our streams the dumping places for débris;so long as we tolerate ugliness where beauty should obtain; and so longas our homes and our farms betray the spirit of shiftlessness, --so longshall we have occasion to blush when we look at our flag and confess ourdereliction of our high privilege of patriotism. 

=The American restaurant. =--Perhaps no single detail of the customs thatobtain in our country impresses a cultivated foreigner more unfavorablythan the régime in our popular restaurants. The noise, the rattle andclatter and bang, the raucous calling of orders, and the hurry andconfusion give him the impression that we are content to have feedingplaces where we might have eating places. He regards all that he seesand hears as being less than proper decorum, less than a high standardof intelligence, less than refined cultivation, and less than agenciesthat contribute to the graces of life. He marvels that we have not yetattained the conception that partaking of food amounts to a gracious anddelightful ceremony rather than a gastronomic orgy. His surprise is notlimited to the people who administer these establishments, but extendsto the people who patronize them. He marvels that the patrons do notseek out places where there is quiet, and serenity, and pleasingdecorum. He returns to his own land wondering if the noisy restaurant istypical of American civilization. He may not know that the study ofdomestic science in our schools has not had time to attain its fullfruition in the way of inculcating a lofty conception of life in thedining room. 

=Thrift as patriotism. =--Another important phase of patriotism isthrift; and here, again, we have come short of realizing ourpossibilities. There are far too many people who have failed to lay instore against times of emergency, far too many who care only for to-daywith slight regard for to-morrow. Moreover, there are far too many who, despite sound bodies, are dependents, contributing nothing to theresources of society, but constantly preying upon those resources. Thereare in our country not fewer than one hundred thousand tramps, and bysome the number has been estimated at a half-million. If this vast armyof dependents could be transferred to the ranks of producers, tillingour fields, harvesting our crops, constructing our highways of travel, redeeming our waste places, and beautifying our streams, life would befar more agreeable both for them and for the rest of our people. Theywould become self-supporting and so would win self-respect; they wouldsubtract their number from the number of those who live at publicexpense; and they would make contributions to the general store. Theywould thus relieve society of the incubus of their dependence, andlargely increase the number of our people who are self-supporting. 

=Some contrasts. =--We are making some progress in the line of thriftthrough our school savings and postal savings, but we have not yetattained to a national conception of thrift as an element of patriotism. This is one of the large yet inspiring privileges of the vitalizedschool. Thrift is so intimately identified with life that they naturallycombine in our thinking, and we have only to reach the conception thatour mode of life is the measure of our patriotism in order to realizethat thrift and patriotism are in large measure identical. Theindustrious, frugal, thrifty man is patriotic; the unthrifty, lazy, shiftless man is unpatriotic. The one ennobles and honors his country;the other dishonors and degrades his country. 

=Conclusion. =--If the foregoing conclusions are valid, and to everythoughtful person they must seem well-nigh axiomatic, then the schoolhas a wide field of usefulness in the way of inculcating a loftier andbroader conception of patriotism. The teacher who worthily fills herplace in the vitalized school will give the boys and girls in her caresuch a conception of patriotism as will give direction, potency, andsignificance to every school activity and lift these activities out ofthe realm of drudgery into the realm of privilege. Her pupils will bemade to feel that what they are doing for themselves, their school, andtheir homes, they are doing for the honor and glory of their country. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. In what ways and to what extent should patriotism affect conduct?

2. Indicate methods in which patriotism may be used as an incentive toexcel in the different branches of study. 

3. What branches of study should have for their sole function tostimulate the growth of patriotism? Discuss methods and give instances. 

4. Distinguish from patriotism each of the following counterfeits:sectionalism; partisanship; nationalism; and jingoism. Should teacherstry to eradicate or sublimate these sentiments? How?

5. What should be the attitude of the teacher of history towardCommodore Decatur's toast: "My country, may she always be in the right;but right or wrong, my country"?

6. Cite recent history to prove that temperance and sanitation arenecessary for the realization of national victories and the perpetuationof the common welfare. 

7. Is the "Golden Rule" a vital principle of patriotism? Why?

8. How are culture and refinement related to patriotism? thrift?

9. Make a list of songs, poems, novels, paintings, and orations that arecharacterized by lofty patriotic sentiments. Name some that are usuallyregarded as patriotic but which are tainted with inferior sentiments. 

10. Discuss the adaptability of these to the different periods ofyouthful development and the methods whereby their appeal may be mademost effective. 

CHAPTER IX

WORK AND LIFE

=Tom Sawyer. =--Tom Sawyer was one of the most effective teachers thathas figured in the pages of the books; and yet we still regard MarkTwain as merely the prince of humorists. He was that, of course, butmuch more; and some day we shall read his books in quest of pedagogicalwisdom and shall not be disappointed. It will be recalled that TomSawyer sat on the top of a barrel and munched apples while his boycompanions whitewashed the fence in his stead. Tom achieved this triumphbecause he knew how to emancipate work from the plane of drudgery andexalt it to the plane of a privilege. Indeed, it loomed so large as aprivilege that the other boys were eager to barter the treasures oftheir pockets in exchange for this privilege. And never did a fencereceive such a whitewashing! There wasn't fence enough and, therefore, the process must needs be repeated again and again. The best part of theentire episode was that everybody was happy, Tom included. Tom was happyin seeing his plan work, and the other boys were happy because they weredoing work that Tom had caused them to become eager to do. 

=Work as a privilege. =--To make work seem a privilege is a worthy taskfor the school to set before itself, and if it but achieves this it willprove itself worth all it costs. At first thought, it seems a stupendoustask, and so it is. But Tom Sawyer accomplished it in an easy, naturalway, with no parade or bombast. He had habit and tradition to contendagainst, just as the school has, but he overbore these obstacles and wonthe contest. Some of those boys, before that morning, may have thoughtit ignoble to perform menial tasks; but Tom soon overcame that feelingand led them to feel that only an artist can whitewash a fence properly. Some of them may have been interpreting life as having a good time, but, under the tutorage of Tom, they soon came to feel that having a goodtime means whitewashing a fence. 

=The persistency of habit. =--In striving to exalt and ennoble work, theschool runs counter to habits of thought that have been formed in thehome, and these habits prove stubborn. The home has so long imposed workas a task that the school finds it difficult to make it seem aprivilege. The father and mother have so often complained of their work, in the presence of their children, that all work comes to assume theaspect of a hardship, if not a penalty. It often happens, too, that theparents encourage their children to think that education affordsimmunity from work, and the children attend school with that notionfirmly implanted in their minds. They seem to think that when they haveachieved an education they will receive their reward in the choicestgifts that Fortune has to bestow, and that their only responsibilitywill be to indicate their choices. 

=Misconceptions of work. =--Still further, when children enter schoolimbued with this conception of work, they feel that the work of theschool is imposed upon them as a task from which they would fain befree. If their parents had only been as wise as Tom Sawyer and had setup motives before them in connection with their home activities and thusexalted all their work to the plane of privilege, the work of the schoolwould be greatly simplified. It is no slight task to eradicate thismisconception of work, but somehow it must be done before the work ofthe school can get on. Until this is done, the work of the school willbe done grudgingly instead of buoyantly, and work that is done undercompulsion is never joyous work. Nor will work that is done undercompulsion ever be done in full measure, as the days of slavery clearlyprove. 

=Illustrations. =--Life and work are synonymous, and no amount or form ofsophistry can abrogate their relation. The man who does not work doesnot have real life, as the invalid will freely witness. The tramp on thehighway manages to exist, but he does not really live, no matter whathis philosophy may be. Many children interpret life to mean plenty ofmoney and nothing to do, but this conception merely proves that they arechildren with childish misconceptions. They see the railway magnateriding in his private car and conceive his life to be one of ease andluxury. They do not realize that the private car affords him theopportunity to do more and better work. They see the president of thebank sitting in his private office and imagine that he is idle, notrealizing that his mind is busy with problems of great magnitude, problems that would appall his subordinates. They cannot know, as hesits there, that he is projecting his thoughts into far-off lands, andis watching the manifold and complex processions of commerce in theirrelations to the world of finance. 

=Concrete examples. =--They see the architect in his luxuriousapartments, but do not realize that his brain is directing everymovement of a thousand men who are causing a colossal building to towertoward the sky. They see a Grant sitting beneath a tree in apparentunconcern, but do not know that he is bearing the responsibility of themovements of a vast army. They see the pastor in his study among hisbooks, but do not know the travail of spirit that he experiences in hisyearning for his parishioners. They see the farmer sitting at ease inthe shade, but do not know that he is visualizing every detail of hisfarm, the men at their tasks, the flocks and herds, the crops, thestreams, the machinery, the fences, and the orchards and vineyards. Theysee the master of the ship, standing on the bridge clad in his smartuniform, and imagine that he is merely enjoying the sea breezes the sameas themselves, not knowing that his thoughts are concentrated upon thesafety of his hundreds of passengers and his precious cargo. 

=The potency of mental work. =--Only by experience may children come toknow that work may be mental as well as physical, and the school ischarged with the responsibility of affording this experience. Throughexperience they will come to know that mind transcends matter, and thatin life the body yields obedience to the behests of the mind. They willcome to know that mental work is more far-reaching than physical work, in that a single mind plans the work for a thousand hands. They willlearn that mental work has redeemed the world from its primitivecondition and is making life more agreeable even if more complex. Theywill come to see the mind busy in its work of tunneling mountains, building canals and railways, navigating oceans, and exploring the sky. They will come to realize that mental work has produced our libraries, designed our machinery, made our homes more comfortable and our fieldsmore fertile. 

=Work a blessing. =--As a knowledge of all these things filters intotheir minds, their conception of life broadens, and they see more andmore clearly that life and work are fundamentally identical. They seethat work directs the streams of life and gives to life point, potency, and significance. They soon see that knowledge is power only because itis the agency that generates power, and that knowledge touches life atevery point. They will come to realize that work is the one great luxuryin life, and that education is designed to increase the capacity forwork in order that people may indulge in this luxury more abundantly. The more work one can do, the more life one has; and the better the workone can do, the higher the quality of that life. They learn that theadage "Work to live and live to work" is no fiction but a reality. 

=Work and enjoyment. =--The school, therefore, becomes to them a workshopof life, and unless it is that, it is not a worthy school. It is not asomething detached from life, but, rather, an integral part of life andtherefore a place and an occasion for work. The school is the BurningBush of work that is to grow into the Tree of Life. But life ought toteem with joy in order to be at its best, and never be a drag. Work, therefore, being synonymous with life, should be a joyous experience, even though it taxes the powers to the utmost. If the child comes to thework of the school as the galley-slave goes to his task, there is a lackof adjustment and balance somewhere, and a readjustment is necessary. Itmatters not that a boy spends two hours over a problem in arithmetic ifonly he enjoys himself during the time. But, if he works two hoursmerely to get a passing grade or to escape punishment, the time thusspent does not afford him the pleasure that rightfully belongs to him, and some better motive should be supplied. 

=The teacher's problem. =--The teacher's mission is not to make schoolwork easy, but, rather, to make the hardest work alluring and agreeable. Here, again, she may need to take counsel with Tom Sawyer. Whitewashinga fence is quite as hard work as solving a problem in decimals or cuberoot. Much depends upon the mental attitude of the boy, and this in turndepends upon the skill of the teacher and her fertility of mind insupplying motives. Whitewashing a fence causes the arms to grow wearyand the back to ache, but the boys recked not of that. On the contrary, they clamored for more of the same kind of work. This same spiritcharacterizes the work of the vitalized school. The pupils live asjoyously in the schoolroom as they do outside, and the harder the workthe greater their joy. 

When work is made a privilege by the expert teacher, school procedurebecomes well-nigh automatic and there is never any occasion for nagging, hectoring, or badgering. Such things are abnormal in life and no less soin the vitalized school. They are a confession on the part of theteacher that she has reached the limit of her resources. She admits thatshe cannot do what Tom Sawyer did so well, and so proclaims herinability to articulate life and work effectively. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Read that chapter of "Tom Sawyer" which deals with the whitewashingepisode. 

2. What principles of teaching did Tom Sawyer apply?

3. Discuss, from the pupils' viewpoint, how the study of differentsubjects may be made a privilege. 

4. In accordance with Tom Sawyer pedagogy, discuss plans for theformation of the reading habit in pupils. How direct the pupils' choiceof reading matter?

5. How would you demonstrate to pupils that mental work is moreexhausting than manual labor?

6. Why is work a blessing? How convince an indolent pupil of this truth?

7. State the chief problem of the teacher. 

8. Show that the pedagogical doctrines of this chapter are not to beclassified under the head of "soft pedagogy. "

CHAPTER X

WORDS AND THEIR CONTENT

=Initial statement. =--Life and words are so closely interwoven that wehave only to study words with care in order to achieve an apprehensionof life. Indeed, education may be defined as the process of enlargingthe content of words. No two of us speak the same language even thoughwe use the same words. The schoolboy and the savant speak of education, using the same word, but the boy has only the faintest conception of themeaning of the word as used by the savant. We must know the content ofthe words that are used before we can understand one another, either inspeaking or in writing. For one man, a word is big with meaning; foranother, the same word is so small as to be well-nigh meaningless. Tothe ignorant boor, the word "education" means far less than the threeR's, while to the scholar the word includes languages, ancient andmodern, mathematics through many volumes, sciences that analyze thedewdrop, determine the weight of the earth and the distances andmovements of the planets, history from the Rosetta Stone to the latestpresidential election, and philosophy from Plato to the scholar ofto-day. 

=The word "education. "=--And yet both these men spell and pronounce theword alike. The ignorant man has only the faintest glimmering of thescholar's meaning of the word when he speaks or writes it. Still theword is in common use, and people who use it are wont to think thattheir conception of its meaning is universal. If the boor could followthe expansion of the word as it is invested with greater and greatercontent, he would, in time, understand Aristotle, Shakespeare, Gladstone, and Max Müller. And, understanding these men, he would cometo know philosophy, literature, and language, and so would come toappreciate more fully what education really is. In contemplating theexpansion of the word, one might easily visualize the ever wideningcircle produced by throwing a pebble into a pool; but a betterconception would be the expansion of a balloon when it is beinginflated. This comparison enables one to realize that education enlargesas a sphere rather than as a circle. 

=The scholar's concept of the sea. =--The six-year-old can give thecorrect spelling of the word _sea_ as readily as the sage, but the sagehas spent a lifetime in putting content into the word. For him, the wordepitomizes his life history. Through its magic leading he retraces hisjourneys through physiography and geology, watching the sea wear awaytwo thousand feet of the Appalachian Mountains and spread the detritusover vast areas, making the great fertile corn and wheat belt of ourcountry. He knows that this section produces, annually, such a quantityof corn as would require for transportation a procession of teams thatwould encircle the earth nine times, at the equator, and he interpretsall this as sea. The word leads him, also, through the mazes andmysteries of meteorology, revealing to him the origin of the rain, thesnow, the dew, and the frost, with all the wonders of evaporation, condensation, and precipitation. 

=Further illustration. =--He can discern the sea in every blade of grass, in every leaf, and in every flower. In the composition of his own body, he finds that ninety per cent of it is sea. He finds his heart pumpingthe sea through his veins and arteries as a vital part of the lifeprocess; and through the power of capillary attraction, the sea iscoursing through every hair of his head. In the food upon his table, themeat, the bread, the milk, the vegetables, and the fruits, he finds thesea. Not his poetry, but his science follows the raindrop from the roofto the rivulet, on to the river, then to the ocean, then into vapor andon into rain down into the earth, then up into the tree, out into theorange, until it finally reappears as a drop of juice upon the rosy lipof his little six-year-old. 

=The child's conception. =--Whether the child ever wins the largeconception of the sea that her father has depends, in part, upon thefather himself, but, in a still larger degree, upon her teacher. If theteacher thinks of the sea merely as a word to be spelled, or defined, orparsed, that she may inscribe marks in a grade book or on report cards, then the child will never know the sea as her father knows it, unlessthis knowledge comes to her from sources outside the school. Instead ofbecoming a living thing and the source of life, her sea will be a desertwithout oasis, or grass, or tree, or bird, or bubbling spring to refreshand inspire. It would seem a sad commentary upon our teaching if thechild is compelled to gain a right conception of the sea outside theschool and in spite of the school, rather than through and by means ofthe school. 

=The quest of teacher and child. =--The vitalized teacher knows the seaas the sage knows it, and can infuse her conception into theconsciousness of the child. She feels it to be her high privilege tolead the child on in quest of the sea and to find, in this quest, pulsating life. In this alluring quest, she is putting content into theword, and thus discovering, by experience, what life is. This iseducation. This is the inviting vista that stretches out before the eyesof the child under the spell and leadership of such a teacher. In theirquest for the meaning of the sea, these companions, the child and theteacher, will come upon the fields of grain, the orchards, the flocksand herds, the ships, the trains, and the whole intricate world ofcommerce. They will find commerce to be a manifestation of the sea andmoreover a big factor in life. It will mean far more than mere cars tobe counted or cargoes to be estimated in the form of problems for theclass in arithmetic. The cargoes of grain that they see leaving the portmean food for the hungry in other lands, and the joy and vigor that onlyfood can give. 

=The sea as life. =--At every turn of their ramified journey, theselearners find life and, best of all, are having a rich experience inlife, throughout the journey. They are immersed in life and so areabsorbing life all the while. Wider and wider becomes their conceptionof life as exemplified by the sea, and their capacity for life is everincreasing. Day by day they ascend to higher levels and find theirhorizon receding farther and farther. For them, life enlarges until itembraces all lands, the arts, the sciences, the languages, and allhistory. Whether they pursue the sea into the mountains; to the steppes, plateaus, or pampas; to the palace or the hovel; to the tropics or thepoles, --they find it evermore representing life. 

=The word "automobile. "=--It would seem to be quite possible toconstruct a twelve-year course of study based upon this sort of study ofwords and their content with special emphasis upon the content. Sincelife is conterminous with the content of the words that constitute one'svocabulary, it is evident that the content of words becomes of majorimportance in the scheme of education. To be able to spell the word"automobile" will not carry a young man very far in his efforts toqualify as a chauffeur, important though the spelling may be. As a merebeginning, the spelling is essential, but it is not enough. Still thechild thinks that his education, so far as this word is concerned, iscomplete when he can spell it correctly, and carry home a perfect grade. No one will employ the young man as a driver until he has put contentinto the word, and this requires time and hard work. He must know themechanism of the machine, in every detail, and the articulation of allits parts. He must be able to locate trouble on the instant and be ableto apply the remedy. He must be sensitive to every slightest sound thatindicates imperfect functioning. This, of course, carries far beyond themere spelling of the word, but all this is essential to the safety ofhis passengers. 

=Etymology. =--Etymology has its place, of course, in the study of words, but it stops short of the goal. It may be well to take the watch apartin order to make an examination of its parts, but until it isreconstituted and set going, it is useless as a watch. So with a word. We may give its etymology and rhapsodize over its parts, but thusanalyzed it is an inert thing and really inane so far as real service isconcerned. If word study does not carry beyond the mere analysis, it isfutile as a real educative process. To be really effective, the wordmust be instinct with life and busy in the affairs of life, and not amere specimen in a museum. Too often our work in etymology seems to beconsidered an end in itself, rather than a means to an end. 

=The word in use. =--Arlo Bates says that the word "highly" in theGettysburg Speech is the most ornate word in the language in the settingthat Lincoln gave it. The merest tyro can give its etymology, but onlywhen it was set to work by a master did it gain potency and distinction. The etymology of the word "fidelity" is reasonably easy, but thisanalysis is powerless to cause the child to thrill at the story ofCasabianca, or of Ruth and Naomi, or of Esther, or Antigone, orCordelia, or Nathan Hale, or the little Japanese girl who deliberatelybit through her tongue that she might not utter a syllable that wouldjeopardize the interests or safety of her father. The word analyzed is adead thing; the word in use is a living thing. The word merely analyzedis apt to be ephemeral; the word in use is abiding and increasinglysignificant. As the child puts more and more content into the word, he, himself, expands at the same rate in the scope and power of histhinking. Words are the materials out of which he weaves the fabric oflife, and the pattern depends upon the content of his words. 

=Illustrations from art. =--The child can spell the word "art" and canrepeat the words of the book by way of a memorized definition, but hecannot define the word with even a fair degree of intelligence. Hecannot know the meaning of the word until its significance becomesobjectified in his life processes. This requires time, and thought, andexperiences with books, with people, and with galleries. In short, hemust live art before he can define the word; and his living art investsthe word with content. The word will grow just as he grows in hisconception of art. At first, he may denominate as art the simple littledaubs of pictures that he makes with the teacher's hand guiding hisbrush. But, later on, as he gains a larger conception, these things willappear puerile if not silly. The time may come when he can read thethoughts of the masters as expressed in their masterpieces. Then, andonly then, will he be able to define the word. 

=Michael Angelo. =--At the age of fifteen, Michael Angelo wrought theMask of the Satyr, which would not be considered a work of art if thatwere the only product of his chisel. What he did later was thefulfillment of the prophecy embodied in the Mask. At the age of eighty, he produced the Descent from the Cross, which glorifies the Duomo inFlorence. In between these productions, we find his David, his Moses, the Sistine Ceiling, with many others scarcely less notable. He rose toa higher and higher conception of art as he lived art more and morefully, and his execution kept pace with the expansion of his conception. He gave content to the word both for himself and for the world until nowwe associate, in our thinking, art with his name. He himself is now, inlarge measure, our definition of art--and that because he lived art. 

=The child's conception of truth. =--In his restricted conception, theboy conceives truth to be the mere absence of peccadillos. He thinksthat his denial of the charge that he was impolite to his sister, orthat he went on a foraging expedition to the pantry, is the whole truthand, indeed, all there is to truth. It requires a whole lifetime torealize the full magnitude of his misconception. In the vitalizedschool, he finds himself busy all day long trying to find answer to thequestion: What is Truth? In the Alps, there is a place called Echo Glenwhere a thousand rocks, cliffs, and crags send back to the speaker thewords he utters. So, when this boy asks What is Truth? a thousand voicesin the school and outside the school repeat the question to him: What isTruth? Abraham Lincoln tried to find the answer as he figured on the bitof board with a piece of charcoal by the firelight. Later on, he wrotethe Emancipation Proclamation, and in both exercises he was seeking forthe meaning of truth. 

=The work of the school. =--Christopher Columbus was doing the same thingin his quest, and thought no hardship too great if he could only comeupon the answer. Galileo, Huxley, Newton, Tyndall, Humboldt, Darwin, Edison, and Burbank are only the schoolboys grown large in their searchfor the meaning of truth. They have enlarged the content of the word forus all, and by following their lead we may attain to their answers. Every school study gives forth a partial answer, and the sum of allthese answers constitutes the answer which the boy is seeking. Mathematics tells part of the story, but not all of it; science tellsanother part, but not all of it; history tells still another part, butnot all of it. Hence, it may be reiterated that one of the primefunctions of the vitalized school is to invest words with the largestpossible content. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. To what extent is education the process of enlarging the content ofwords?

2. As a concrete illustration of the differences in the content ofwords, compare various definitions of education. Choose typicaldefinitions of education to reflect the ideas of different educationalperiods. 

3. Suggest other methods than the use of the dictionary for theenlargement of the pupil's content of words. 

4. How may words be vitalized in composition?

5. Should the chief aim of language work in the grades be force, accuracy, or elegance in the use of language?

6. Add to the author's list of words, other words the content of whichmay be expanded by education. 

7. How may the vitalized teacher encourage in pupils the formation ofhabits of careful diction?

8. How remove unnatural stilted words and expressions from the oral andwritten expressions of pupils?

CHAPTER XI

COMPLETE LIVING

=The question raised. =--That education is a preparation for completeliving has been quoted by every teacher who lays any sort of claim tothe standard definitions. Indeed, so often and so glibly has thequotation been made that it is well-nigh axiomatic and altogether trite. But we still await any clear explanation of what is meant by completeliving. On this point we are still groping, with no prophetic voice totell us the way. By implication we have had hints, and much has beensaid on the negative side, but the positive side still lies fallow. Whenasked for an explanation, those who give the quotation resort tocircumlocution and, at length, give another definition of education, apparently conscious of the mathematical dictum that things that areequal to the same thing are equal to each other. So we continue totravel in a circle, with but feeble attempts to deviate from the course. 

=The vitalized school an exemplification. =--Nor will this chapterattempt to resolve the difficult situation in which we are placed. It isnot easy to define living, much less complete living. All that is hopedfor here is to bring the matter to the attention of all teachers and tocause them to realize that the quest for a definition of complete livingwill be for them and for their pupils an exhilarating experience. Thevitalized school will belie its name if it does not strive toward asolution of the difficulty, and any school that approximates asatisfactory definition will be proclaimed a public benefactor. In fact, the school cannot lay claim to the distinction of being vitalized if itfails to exemplify complete living, in some appreciable degree, and ifit fails to groove this sort of living into a habit that will persistthroughout the years. This is the big task that the school must essay ifit would emancipate itself from the trammels of tradition and become aleader in the larger, better way. Complete living must become the idealof the school if it would realize the conception of education of whichit is a professed exponent. 

=Incomplete living. =--The man who walks with a crutch; the man who isafflicted with a felon; the man who lacks a hand or even afinger, --cannot experience complete living. Through the power ofadaptation the man with a crutch may compass more difficult situationsthan the man with sound legs will attempt, but he cannot realize all thepossibilities of life that a sound body would vouchsafe to him. The manwithout hands may learn to write with his toes, but he is not employedas a teacher of penmanship. His life is a restricted one and, therefore, less than complete. We marvel at the exhibitions of skill displayed bythe maimed, but we feel no envy. We may not be able to duplicate theirachievements, but we feel that we have ample compensation in the normaluse of our members. We know instinctively that, in the solitude of theirmeditations, they must experience poignant regrets that they are not asother people, and that they must pass through life under a handicap. 

=The sound body. =--It is evident, therefore, that soundness of body is acondition precedent to complete living. The body is the organism bymeans of which the mind and the spirit function in terms of life; and, if this organism is imperfect, the functioning will prove less thancomplete. Hence, it is the province of the school to so organize all itsactivities that the physical powers of the pupils shall be fullyconserved. The president of a large university says that during hisincumbency of seventeen years they have found only one young woman ofphysical perfection and not a single young man, although the tests havebeen applied to thousands. College students, it will be readilyconceded, are a selected group; and yet even in such a group not aphysically perfect young man was found in tests extending over seventeenyears. If a like condition should be discovered in the scoring of livestock at our fairs, there would ensue a careful investigation of causesin the hope of finding a remedy. 

=Personal efficiency. =--We shall not achieve national efficiency untilevery citizen has achieved personal efficiency, and physical fitness isone of the fundamental conditions precedent to personal efficiency. Herewe have the blue print for the guidance of society and the school. If weare ever to achieve national efficiency, we must see to it that everyman and woman, every boy and girl, has a strong, healthy body that isfully able to execute the behests of mind and spirit. This may require astricter censorship of marriage licenses, including physicalexaminations; it may require more stringent laws on our statute books;it may require radical changes in our methods of physical training; andit may require the state to assume some of the functions of the homewhen the home reveals its inability or unwillingness to cope with thesituation. Heroic treatment may be necessary; but until we as a peoplehave the courage to apply the remedies that the diagnosis shows to benecessary, we shall look in vain for improvement. 

=Physical training. =--Seeing that it is so difficult to find a man or awoman among our people who has attained physical perfection, it behoovessociety and the schools to take a critical inventory of their methods ofphysical training and their meager accomplishments as a preliminarysurvey looking to a change in our procedure. We seem to have delegatedscientific physical training to athletics and pugilism, with but scantconcern for our people as a whole. If pink-tea calisthenics as practicedmildly in our schools has failed to produce robust bodies, then it isincumbent upon us to adopt a régime of beefsteak. What the traditionalschool has failed to do the vitalized school must attempt to do orsuffer the humiliation of striking its colors. There is no middlecourse; it must either win a victory or admit defeat in common with thetraditional school. The standard is high, of course, but every standardof the vitalized school is and ought to be high. 

=Cigarettes. =--If the use of cigarettes is devitalizing our boys, andthis can be determined, then the manufacture and sale must be prohibitedunless our legislative bodies would plead guilty to the charge ofimpotence. But we are told that public sentiment conditions theenactment of laws. If such be the case, then the school and itsauxiliaries should feel it a duty to generate public sentiment. Ifcigarettes are harmful, then they should be banished, and the task isnot an impossible one by any means. As to the injurious effects ofcigarettes, as distinguished an authority as Thomas A. Edison says thefollowing:

 "The injurious agent in cigarettes comes principally from the burning paper wrapper. The substance thereby formed is called 'acrolein. ' It has a violent action on the nerve centers, producing degeneration of the cells of the brain, which is quite rapid among boys. Unlike most narcotics, this degeneration is permanent and uncontrollable. I employ no person who smokes cigarettes. "

We have eliminated dangerous explosives from our Fourth of Julycelebrations, and the ban can as easily be placed upon any otherdangerous product. Just here we inevitably meet the cry of paternalism, but we shall always be confronted by the question to what extent thegovernment should stand aside and see its citizens follow the bent oftheir appetites and passions over the brink of destruction. It is theinherent right of government to maintain its own integrity, and this itcan do only through the conservation of the powers of its citizens. Ifpaternalism is necessary to this end, then paternalism is a governmentalvirtue. Better, by far, some paternalism than a race of weaklings. 

=Military training. =--We may shrink away from military training in theschools, just as we shrink from the régime of pugilism; but we mayprofit by observing both these types of training in our efforts todevelop some method of training that will render our young peoplephysically fit. We need some type of training that will eliminate roundand drooping shoulders, weak chests, shambling gait, sluggishcirculation, and shallow breathing. The boys and girls need to be, firstof all, healthy animals with large powers of endurance, elastic, buoyant, graceful, and in general well set up. These conditionsconstitute the foundation for the superstructure of education. Theplacid, anæmic, fiberless child is ill prepared in physique to attain tothat mastery of the mental and spiritual world that makes for anapproximation to complete living. 

=Examples cited. =--If one will but make a mental appraisement of thefirst one hundred people he meets, he will see among the number quite afew who reveal a lack of physical vigor. They droop and slouch along andseem to be dragging their bodies instead of being propelled throughspace by their bodies. They can neither stand nor walk as a human beingought to stand and walk, and their entire ensemble is altogetherunbeautiful. We feel instinctively that, being fashioned in the image oftheir Maker, they have sadly declined from their high estate. Theirbodily attitude seems a sort of apology for life, and we long to invokethe aid of some teacher of physical training to rescue them fromthemselves and restore them to their rightful heritage. They are weak, apparently ill-nourished, scrawny, ill-groomed; and we know, without theaid of words, that neither a vigorous mind nor a great spirit wouldchoose that type of body as its habitation. 

=The body subject to the mind. =--A healthy, vigorous, symmetrical bodythat performs all its functions like a well-articulated, well-adjustedmechanism is the beginning, but only a beginning. Next comes a mind thatis so well trained that it knows what orders to give to the body and howto give them. Many a strong body enters the door of a saloon because themind is not sufficiently trained to issue wise orders. The mind wasbefuddled before the body became so, and the body becomes so onlybecause the mind commands. Intoxication, primarily, is a mentalapostasy, and the body cannot do otherwise than obey. If the mind wereintent upon securing a book at the library, the body would not have seenthe door of the saloon, but would have been urgent to reach the library. There is neither fiction nor facetiousness in the adage, "An idle brainis the devil's workshop. " On the contrary, the saying is crammed full ofpsychology for the thoughtful observer. Hence, when we are training themind we are wreaking destruction upon this workshop. 

=Freedom a condition precedent. =--Complete living is impossible outsidethe domain of freedom. The prisons show forth no examples of completeliving. But mental thralldom is quite as inimical to complete living asthralldom of the body. The mind must know in order to move among thethings of life in freedom. Ignorance is slavery. The mind that is unableto read the inscription on a monument stands baffled and helpless, andno form of slavery can be more abject. The man who cannot read the billof fare of life is in no position to revel in the good things that lifeoffers. The man who cannot read the signboards of life gropes andflounders about in the byways and so misses the charms. If he knows theway, he has freedom; otherwise he is in thralldom. The man who cannotinterpret life as it shows itself in hill, in valley, in stream and rockand tree, goes through life with bandaged eyes, and that conditionaffords no freedom. 

=Street signs. =--A man who had been traveling through Europe for severalweeks, and had finally reached London, wrote enthusiastically of hispleasure at being able to read the street signs. All summer he had feltrestricted and hampered, but when he reached a country where the streetsigns were intelligible, he gained his freedom. Had he been as familiarwith Italian, German, and French as he is with English, life would havebeen for him far more nearly complete during that summer and thereforemuch more agreeable and fertile. There is no more exhilaratingexperience than to be able to read the street signs along the highway oflife, and this ability is one of the great objectives of every vitalizedschool. 

=Trained minds. =--Nature reveals her inmost secrets only to the trainedmind. No power can force her, no wealth can bribe her, to disclose thesesecrets to others. Only the mind that is trained can gain admission toher treasure house to revel in its glories. John Burroughs lives in aworld that the ignorant man cannot know. The trained mind alone has thekey that will unlock libraries, art galleries, the treasure houses ofscience, language, history, and art. The untrained minds must standoutside and win what comfort they can from their wealth, their socialstatus, or whatever else they would fain substitute for the trainingthat would admit them. All these things are parts of life, and those whocannot gain admission to these conservatories of knowledge cannot knowlife in its completeness. 

=Achievements of trained minds. =--In order to know life in the large, the mind must be able to leap from the multiplication table to thestars; must become intimate with the movements of the tides, theglacier, and the planets; must translate the bubbling fountain and theeruption of Vesuvius; must be able to interpret the whisper of thezephyr and the diapason of the forest; must be able to hear music in thechirp of the cricket as well as in the oratorios; must be able to delveinto the recesses of the mine and scale the mountain tops; must know theheart throbs of Little Nell as well as of Cicero and Demosthenes; mustbe able to see the processions of history from the cradle of the race tothe latest proclamation; and must sit in the councils of the poets, thestatesmen, the orators, the artists, the scientists, and the historiansof all time. A mind thus trained can enter into the very heart of lifeand know it by experience. 

=Things of the spirit. =--But education is a spiritual process, as wehave been told; and, therefore, education is without value unless ittouches the spirit. Indeed, it is only by the spirit that we may testthe quality of education. It is spirit that sets metes and bounds andpoints the way to the fine things of life. A man may live in the backalley of life or on the boulevard, according to the dictates of thespirit. If his spirit cannot react to the finer things, his way will lieamong the coarse and bizarre. If he cannot appreciate the glory that isrevealed upon the mountain, he will gravitate to the lower levels. Ifhis spirit is not attuned to majestic harmonies, he will drift down toassociation with his own kind. If he cannot thrill with pleasure at thebeauty and fragrance of the lily of the valley, he will seek out thegaudy sunflower. If his spirit cannot rise to the plane of Shakespeareand Victor Hugo, he will roam into fields that are less fruitful. Thespirit that is rightly attuned lifts him away from the sordid into therealms of the chaste and the glorified; away from the coarse and uglyinto the realm of things that are fine and beautiful; and away from thethings that are mean and petty into the zone of the big, the true, thenoble, and the good. And so with body, mind, and spirit thus doing theirperfect work, he can, at least, look over into the promised land ofcomplete living. 

=Altruism. =--We are commanded to let our light shine, and this commandis a noble and an inspiring one. A man who by such training as has beendepicted approximates complete living is prepared to let his light shineprimarily because he has light, and in the next place because histraining has made him generous in spirit and altruistic; and hisgreatest joy comes from letting his light so shine that others may catchhis spirit and move up to higher planes of living. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Why is education not satisfactorily defined by saying that it is apreparation for complete living? Who first stated this definition?

2. What is the relation of the school to complete living?

3. What further training should the school give in better living than toteach the pupils what it is?

4. Give an idea of what is meant by incomplete living so far as the bodyis concerned. 

5. Show that soundness of body is necessary to realize one's best. 

6. What are some reasons for the scarcity of physically perfect men andwomen?

7. Have we been able to eliminate physical defects and develop physicalmerits in people to the same extent that we have in domestic animals?

8. What are some of the things that have been done to improve physicalman? Which of these have to do primarily with heredity and which withrearing or training?

9. Why is the possession of healthy bodies a matter of national concern?

10. Wherein does physical training seem to have failed to attain itsends?

11. What are the arguments, from the standpoint of the physicallyefficient life, for the regulation or prohibition by the government ofthe sale of injurious products?

12. What are the benefits of such a type of training as militarytraining?

13. Show how the lack of proper training of the mind may result in aless efficient body. 

14. In our present civilization what conditions may give rise to mentalthralldom? Upon what is mental freedom conditioned?

15. How can the trained mind get the most out of life and contribute themost to it?

16. Explain how the spirit is the dominant element in complete living. 

17. Why is one who is living the complete life sure to be altruistic?

CHAPTER XII

THE TIME ELEMENT

=The question stated. =--There are many, doubtless, who will deny, if notactually resent, the statement that some do more real teaching in tenminutes than others do in thirty minutes. But, in spite of denials, thestatement can be verified by the testimony of a host of expert observersand supervisors. Indeed, stenographic reports have been made of manyclass exercises by way of testing the truth of this statement, and thesereports are a matter of record. Assuming the validity of the statement, therefore, it is pertinent to inquire into the causes that underlie thedisparity in the teaching ability of the ten-minute teacher and thethirty-minute teacher. The efficiency expert would be quick to seizeupon this disparity in the rate of progress as the starting point in hiscritical examination. In a factory a like disparity would lead tounpleasant consequences. The workman who consumes thirty minutes inaccomplishing a piece of work that another does in ten minutes would beadmonished to accelerate his progress or else give way to a moreefficient man. If we had instruments of sufficient delicacy to test theresults of teaching, we should probably discover that the output of theten-minute teacher is superior in quality to that of the thirty-minuteteacher. For we must all have observed in our own experience that theclarity of our thinking depends upon its intensity. 

=Examples. =--A young man who won distinction as a college student had awide shelf fitted up on one side of his room at which he stood in thepreparation of all his lessons. His theory was that the attitude of thebody conditions the attitude of the mind. Professor James gives assentto this theory and avers that an attitude of mind may be generated byplacing the body in such an attitude as would naturally accompany thismental attitude. This theory proclaims that, if the body is slouching, the mind will slouch; but that, if the body is alert, the mind will beequally so. Another college student always walked to and fro in his roomwhen preparing his history lesson. A fine old lady, in a work offiction, explained her mental acumen by the single statement, "I neverslouch. " Every person must have observed many exemplifications of thistheory in his own experience even if he has not reduced it to a workingformula. 

=Basic considerations. =--Any consideration of the time element, inschool work, must take into account, therefore, not only the number ofminutes involved in a given piece of work, but also the intensity ofeffort during those minutes. Two minds, of equal natural strength, maybe fully employed during a given period and yet show a wide differencein the quality and quantity of the results. The one may be busy all thewhile but slouch through the minutes. The other may be taut andintensive, working at white heat, and the output will be more extensiveand of better quality. The mind that ambles through the period showsforth results that are both meager and mediocre; but the mind whoseimpact is both forceful and incisive produces results that serve tomagnify the work of the school. Thus we have placed before us two basicconsiderations, one of which is the time itself, in actual minutes, andthe other is the character of the reactions to external stimuli duringthose minutes. 

=Two teachers compared. =--In order to consider these factors of theteaching process with some degree of definiteness it will be well tohave the ten-minute teacher and the thirty-minute teacher placed injuxtaposition in our thinking. We shall thus be able to compare andcontrast and so arrive at some clear judgments that may be used as abasis for generalizations. We may assume, for convenience and forconcreteness, that the lesson is division of fractions. There will besubstantial agreement that the principle involved in this subject can betaught in one recitation period. The reasons for some of the steps inthe process may come later, but the child should be able to find his wayto the correct answer in a single period. Now if one teacher can achievethis result in thirty minutes and the other in ten minutes, there is adisparity in the effectiveness of the work of these teachers which isworthy of serious consideration. The ten-minute teacher proves that thethirty-minute teacher has consumed twenty minutes of somebody's timeunnecessarily. If the salary of this thirty-minute teacher should bereduced to one third its present amount, she would inveigh against thereduction. 

=School and factory compared. =--If she were one of the operators in afactory, she would not escape with the mere penalization of a salaryreduction. The owner would argue that he needed some one who couldoperate the machine up to its full capacity, and that, even if sheshould work without salary, her presence in the factory would entail aloss in that the output of her machine was so meager. If one operatorcan produce a shoe in ten minutes and the other requires thirty minutesfor the same work, the money that is invested in the one machine paysdividends, while the other machine imposes a continuous tax upon theowner. This, of course, will be recognized as the line of argument ofthe efficiency expert, but it certainly is not out of place to callattention to the matter in connection with school work. The subject ofefficiency is quite within the province of the school, and it would seemto be wholly within reason for the school to exemplify its ownteachings. 

=Appraisal of teaching expertness. =--The teacher who requires thirtyminutes for division of fractions which the other teacher compasses inten minutes consumes twenty minutes unnecessarily in each recitationperiod, or two hundred minutes in the course of the day. The efficiencyexpert would ask her to account for these two hundred minutes. In orderto account for them satisfactorily she would be compelled to take aninventory of her acquired habits, her predilections, her attitude towardher pupils and her subjects, and any shortcomings she may have in regardto methods of teaching. She would, at first, resent the implication thatthe other teacher's method of teaching division of fractions is betterthan her own and would cite the many years during which her method hasbeen used. When all else fails, tradition always proves a convenientrefuge. We can always prove to-day by yesterday; only, by so doing, wedeny the possibility of progress. 

=The potency of right methods. =--A teacher of Latin once used twentyminutes in a violent attempt to explain the difference between thegerund construction and the gerundive construction. At the end of thetime she had the pupils so completely muddled that, for months, theappearance of either of these constructions threw them into a conditionof panic. To another class, later, this teacher explained theseconstructions clearly and convincingly in three minutes. In the meantimeshe had studied methods in connection with subject matter. Anotherteacher resigned her position and explained her action by confessingthat she had become so accustomed to the traditional methods of teachinga certain phase of arithmetic that it was impossible for her to learnthe newer one. Such a teacher must be given credit for honesty evenwhile she illustrates tragedy. 

=The waste of time. =--In explaining the loss of two hundred minutes aday the teacher will inevitably come upon the subject of methods ofteaching, and she may be put to it to justify her method in view of itsresults. The more diligently she tries to justify her method, the morecertainly she proclaims her responsibility for a wrong use of themethod. Those twenty minutes point at her the accusing finger, and shecan neither blink nor escape the facts. The other teacher led her pupilsinto a knowledge of the subject in ten minutes, and this one may neitherabrogate nor amend the record. As an operative in the factory she holdsin her hand one shoe as the result of her thirty minutes while the otherholds three. Conceding that results in the school are not so tangible asthe results in the factory, still we have developed methods ofestimating results in the school that have convincing weight with theefficiency expert. We can estimate results in school work withsufficient accuracy to enable us to assess teaching values with a goodlydegree of discrimination. 

=Possibilities. =--It would be a comparatively simple matter to computein days and weeks the time lost during the year by the thirty-minuteteacher, and then estimate the many things that the pupils couldaccomplish in that time. If the thirty-minute teacher could betransformed into a ten-minute teacher, the children could have threemore hours each day for play, and that would be far better for them thanthe ordeal of sitting there in the class, the unwilling witnesses, orvictims, of the time-wasting process. Or they might read a book in thetwo hundred minutes and that would be more enjoyable, and the number ofbooks thus read in the course of a year would aggregate quite a library. Or, again, they might take some additional studies and so make greatgains in mental achievements in their twelve years of school life. Orthey might learn to work with their hands and so achieve self-reliance, self-support, and self-respect. 

=Conservation. =--In a word, there is no higher type of conservation thanthe conservation of childhood, in terms of time and interest. The twohundred minutes a day are a vital factor in the life of the child andmust be regarded as highly valuable. The teacher, therefore, whosubtracts this time from the child's life is assuming a responsibilitynot to be lightly esteemed. She takes from him his most valuablepossession and one which she can never return, try as she may. Worst ofall, she purloins this element of time clandestinely, albeitseductively, in the guise of friendship. The child does not know that heis the victim of unfair treatment until it is too late to set up anydefense. He is made to think that that is the natural and, therefore, only way of school, and that he must take things as they come if he isto prove himself a good soldier. So he musters what heroism he can andtries to smile while the teacher despoils him of the minutes he mightbetter be employing in play, in reading, or in work. 

=The teacher's complacency. =--This would seem a severe indictment if itwere incapable of proof, but having been proved by incontrovertibleevidence its severity cannot be mitigated. We can only grieve that thefacts are as they are and ardently hope for a speedy change. The chiefobstacle in the way of improvement is the complacency of the teacher. Habits tend to persist, and if she has contracted the habit of muchspeaking, she thinks her volubility should be accounted a virtue andwonders that the children do not applaud the bromidic platitudes whichhave been uttered in the same form and in the same tones a hundredtimes. She is so intoxicated with her own verbosity that she can neitherlisten to the sounds of her own voice nor analyze her own utterances. While her neighbor is teaching she is talking, and then with sublimenonchalance she ascribes the retardation of her pupils to their owndullness and never, in any least degree, to her own unprofitable use oftheir time. 

=The voluble teacher. =--And while she rambles on in her aimless talkingthe children are bored, inexpressibly bored. It is axiomatic that thelearning process does not flourish in a state of boredom. Under theordeal of verbal inundation the children wriggle and squirm about intheir seats and this affords her a new point of attack. She calls themill-bred and unmannerly and wonders at the homes that can produce suchchildren. She does not realize that if these children were grown-upsthey would leave the room regardless of consequences. When they yawn, she reminds them of the utter futility of casting pearls before swine. All the while the twenty minutes are going and the pupils have not yetlearned how to divide fractions. Over in the next room the pupils knowfull well how to divide fractions and the teacher is rewarding theirdiligence with a cookie in the form of a story, while they wait for thebell to ring. Out of the room of the thirty-minute teacher come thechildren glowering and resentful; out of the other room the childrencome buoyant and happy. 

=The test of teaching. =--Not alone did the former teacher use the timeof her pupils for her own ends, but, even more, she dulled theirinterest, and the damage thus inflicted cannot be estimated. Many achild has deserted the school because the teacher made school lifedisagreeable. She was the wet blanket upon his enthusiasm and chilledhim to the marrow when he failed to go forward upon her traditionaltrack. The teacher who can generate in the minds of her pupils aspiritual ignition by her every movement and word will not be humiliatedby desertions. Indeed, the test of the teacher is the mental attitude ofher pupils. The child who drags and drawls through the lesson convictsthe teacher of a want of expertness. On the other hand, when the pupilsare all wide-awake, alert, animated, eager to respond, and dynamic, weknow that the teacher has brought this condition to pass and that she isa ten-minute teacher. 

=Meaningless formalities. =--One of the influences that tends to deadenthe interest of children is the ponderous formality that sometimesobtains. The teacher solemnly calls the roll, although she can see at aglance that there are no absentees. This is exceedingly irksome towide-awake boys and girls who are avid for variety. The same monotonouscalling of the roll day after day with no semblance of variation inducesin them a sort of mental dyspepsia for which they seek an antidote inwhat the teacher denominates disorder. This so-called disorder betokensgood health on their part and is a revelation of the fact that they havea keen appreciation of the fitness of things. They cannot brook monotonyand it irks them to dawdle about in the anteroom of action. They areeager to do their work if only the teacher will get right at it. Butthey are impatient of meaningless preliminaries. They see no sense incalling the roll when everybody is present and discredit the teacher whopersists in the practice. 

=Repeating answers. =--Still another characteristic of the thirty-minuteteacher is her habit of repeating the answers that pupils give, with theaddition of some inane comment. Whether this repeating of answers ismerely a bad habit or an effort on the part of the teacher toappropriate to herself the credit that should otherwise accrue to thepupils, it is not easy to say. Certain it is that school inspectorsinveigh against the practice mightily as militating against theeffectiveness of the teaching. Teachers who have been challenged on thispoint make a weak confession that they repeat the answers unconsciously. They thus make the fatal admission that for a part of the time of theclass exercise they do not know what they are doing, and admitting somuch we can readily classify them as belonging among the thirty-minuteteachers. 

=Meanderings. =--Another characteristic is her tendency to wander awayfrom the direct line and ramble about among irrelevant andinconsequential trifles. Sometimes these rambles are altogetherentertaining and enable her pupils to pass the time pleasantly, but theylack "terminal facilities. " They lead from nowhere to nowhere in themost fascinating and fruitless meanderings. Such expeditions bring backno emoluments. They leave a pleasant taste in the mouth but afford nonourishment. They use the time but exact no dividends. Like sheetlightning they are beautiful but never strike anything. They aresoothing sedatives that never impel to action. They lull to repose butnever vitalize. 

=The ten-minute teacher. =--It is evident, therefore, that only theten-minute teacher is worthy of a place in the vitalized school. Shealone is able and willing to conserve, with religious zeal, the time andinterest of the pupils. To her their time and interest are sacred andshe deems it a sacrilege to trifle with them. She knows the market valueof her own time but does not know the value of the time of the possibleEdison who sits in her class. She gives to every child the benefit ofthe doubt and respects both herself and her pupils too much to takechances by pitting herself against them and using their time for her ownpurposes. Moreover, she never permits their interest to flag, but knowshow to keep their minds tense. Their reactions are never less thanincisive, and, therefore, the truths of the lesson groove themselvesdeep in their consciousness. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. What is meant by the time element in teaching?

2. How is an operation in a factory timed? For what purpose? What aresome of the results that have accrued from the timing of work byefficiency experts?

3. How can teaching be timed approximately? Is it probable that more ofthis will be done in the future by supervisors and investigators? Wouldyou resent the timing of your work? Would you appreciate it? Why?

4. What may be done, in the matter of bodily positions, to improvemental time-reactions of the student? Of the teacher?

5. The literature of a typewriter manufacturer carries the precept "Siterect. " What are the reasons?

6. What two factors must be considered in estimating mental work with aview to time considerations?

7. If the attainment of school results by the teacher were treated asthe attainment of factory results by the operator, what would happen ifa large per cent of the time spent on a process were unnecessary?

8. Apply the factory manager's argument in detail to the teacher'sefficiency. If you can, show wherein it fails to apply. 

9. What result besides waste of time may come of a cumbersome method ofteaching?

10. How can one acquire a clear-cut method?

11. A professor of physics was asked by a former student who wasbeginning to teach for suggestions on the teaching of physics. His onlyreply was "Know your subject thoroughly. " Was this a satisfactoryresponse? Give reasons for your opinion. 

12. If the teacher can have lessons finished with greater rapidity, whatcan be done with the time thus remaining?

13. Show that the teacher must attend to the conservation of time inorder to protect the child. 

14. In what way besides the direct waste of the minutes is theexpenditure of undue time unfortunate?

15. In what particular way do many teachers lose much of therecitation-lesson or study-lesson period?

16. What are the results of an undue expenditure of time in this way?

17. What is the relation between the waste of time in school and theexodus of children from the upper grades?

18. What do you think of a teacher who persists in "meaninglessformalities"?

19. How does the repeating of answers by the teacher affect the pupils?

20. A teacher says she repeats answers often because pupils speak lowand indistinctly. What are the proper remedies for this?

21. What should be the teacher's rule in regard to digressions?

22. Why should every teacher strive to be a "ten-minute" teacher, andwhy should every supervisor strive to recommend no others?

23. What corollary can be drawn on the advisability of the employment ofno teachers except those recommended by competent supervisors?

CHAPTER XIII

THE ARTIST TEACHER

=Teaching as a fine art. =--Teaching is an art. This fact has universalrecognition. But it may be made a fine art, a fact that is not sogenerally recognized. The difference between the traditional school andthe vitalized school lies in the fact, to a large degree, that, in theformer, teaching is regarded merely as an art, while in the latter itbecomes a fine art. In the former, the teacher is an artisan; in thelatter the teacher is an artist. The difference is broadly significant. The artisan, in his work, follows directions, plans, specifications, andblue-prints that have been devised and designed by others; the artistimbues his work with imagination. The artisan works by the day--so muchmoney for so many hours' work with pay day as his large objective; theartist does not disdain pay day, but he has an objective beyond this andhas other sources of pleasure besides the pay envelope. The artisanthinks and talks of pay day; the artist thinks and talks of his work. The artisan drops his work when the bell rings; the artist is soengrossed in his work that he does not hear the bell. The artisan plodsat his task with a grudging mien; the artist works in a fine frenzy. 

=Characteristic qualities. =--It is not easy to find the exact words bywhich to differentiate the traditional teacher from the artist teacher. There is an elusive quality in the artist teacher which is not easilyreduced to or described by formal words. We know that the one is anartist teacher and that the other is not. The formal examination may notbe able to discover the artist teacher, but there is a sort of knowledgethat transcends the findings of an examination, that makes her identityknown. She is a real flesh and blood person and yet she has adistinctive quality that cannot be mistaken even though it eludesdescription. She exhales a certain exquisiteness that reveals itself inthe delicacy and daintiness of her contact with people and the objectiveworld. Her impact upon the consciousness is no more violent than thefragrance of the rose, but, all at once, she is there and there to stay, modest, serene, and masterful. 

She is as gentle as the dawn but as staunch as the oak. She hasknowledge and wisdom, and, better still, she has understanding; sheneeds no diagram. Her gaze penetrates the very heart of a situation butis never less than kindly, and her eyes are never shifty. Her aplomb, her pose, and her poise belong to her quite as evidently as her hands. She is genuine and altogether free from affectation. Her presencestimulates without intoxicating, and she accepts the respect of peoplewith the same naturalness and grace as would accompany her acceptance ofa glass of water. Both the giver and the recipient of this respect areennobled by the giving. Indeed she would far rather have the respect ofpeople, her pupils included, than mere admiration, for she knows fullwell that respect is far more deeply rooted in the spirit and bearsfruit that is more worth while. Her nature knows not inertia, but itabounds in enterprise, endeavor, and courage that are born of a highpurpose. 

=Joy in her work. =--Her teaching and her life do not occupy separatecompartments but are identical in time and space; only her teaching isbut one phase or manifestation of her life. She fitly exemplifies thestatement that "Art is the expression of man's joy in his work. " She hasgreat joy in her work and, therefore, it is done as any other artistdoes his work. She enjoys all life, including her work. Indeed, she hascontracted the habit of happiness and is so engrossed in the bigelemental things of life that she can laugh at the incidental pin-pricksthat others call troubles. She differentiates major from minor and neverpermits a minor to usurp the throne. Being an integral part of her life, her work takes on all the hues of her life. For her, culture is notsomething added; rather it is a something that permeates her wholenature and her whole life. She does not read poetry and other forms ofliterature, study the great masterpieces of music and art, and seekcommunion with the great, either in person or through their works--shedoes not do these things that she may acquire culture, but does thembecause she has culture. 

=Dynamic qualities. =--Her character is the sum of all her habits ofthinking, feeling, and action and, therefore, is herself. Since she isan artist, her habits are all pitched in a high key and she is culturepersonified. Her immaculateness of body and spirit is not a superficialacquisition but a fundamental expression of her real self. Just as theelectric bulb diffuses light, so she diffuses an atmosphere of culture. She gives the artistic touch to every detail of her work because she isan artist, a genuine, sincere artist in all that makes up life. She hasthe heart of an artist, the eyes of an artist, the touch of an artist. Whether these qualities are inherent or acquired is beside the point, atpresent, but it may be remarked, in passing, that unless they werecapable of cultivation, the world would be at a standstill. There is noplace in her exuberant vitality for a jaundiced view, and hence herworld does not become "stale, flat, and unprofitable. "

=Aspiration and worship. =--Every sincere, noble aspiration is a prayer;hence, she prays without ceasing in obedience to the admonition of theApostle. And, let it be said in reverence, she helps to answer her ownprayers. Her spirit yearns out toward higher and wider attainments everyhour of the day, not morbidly but exultantly. And while she aspires sheworships. The starry sky holds her in rapt attention and admiration, andthe modest flower does no less. She is thankful for the rain, and revelsin the beauty and abundance of the snow. The heat may enervate, but sheis grateful, none the less, because of its beneficent influence upon thefarmer's work. Like food and sleep, her attitude of worship conservesher powers and preserves her balance. When physical weariness comes, shesends her spirit out to the star, or the sea, or the mountain, and soforgets her burden in the contemplation of majesty and beauty. In short, her spirit is attuned to all beauty and sublimity and truth, and so sheis inherently an artist. 

=Professor Phelps quoted. =--In his very delightful book, "Teaching inSchool and College, " the author, Professor William Lyon Phelps, says: "Ido not know that I could make entirely clear to an outsider the pleasureI have in teaching. I had rather earn my living by teaching than in anyother way. In my mind, teaching is not merely a life work, a profession, an occupation, a struggle; it is a passion. I love to teach. I love toteach as a painter loves to paint, as a musician loves to play, as asinger loves to sing, as a strong man rejoices to run a race. Teachingis an art--an art so great and so difficult to master that a man or awoman can spend a long life at it, without realizing much more than hislimitations and mistakes, and his distance from the ideal. But the mainaim of my happy days has been to become a good teacher, just as everyarchitect wishes to be a good architect, and every professional poetstrives toward perfection. For the chief difference between the ambitionof the artist and the ambition of a money-maker--both natural andhonorable ambitions--is that the money-maker is after the practicalreward of his toil, while the artist wants the inner satisfaction thataccompanies mastery. "

=Attitude toward work. =--To these sentiments the artist teachersubscribes whole-heartedly, if not in words, certainly by her attitudeand practices. She regards her work not as a task but as a privilege, and thinking it a privilege she appreciates it as she would any otherprivilege. She would esteem it a privilege to attend a concert byhigh-class artists, or to visit an art gallery, or to witness apresentation of a great drama, or to see the Jungfrau; and she feels thesame exaltation as she anticipates her work as a teacher. She sings onher way to school because of the privileges that await her. Sheexperiences a fine flow of sentiment without becoming sentimental. Teaching, to her, is a serious business, but not, in the least, somber. Painting is a serious business, but the artist's zeal and joy in hiswork give wings to the hours. Laying the Atlantic cable was a seriousbusiness, but the vision of success was both inspiring and inspiriting, and temporary mishaps only served to stimulate to greater effort. 

=The element of enthusiasm. =--To this teacher, each class exercise is anenterprise that is big with possibilities; and, in preparation for theevent, she feels something of the thrill that must have animatedColumbus as he faced the sea. She estimates results more by the faces ofher pupils than by the marks in a grade book, for the field of herendeavors is the spirit of the child, and the face of the childtelegraphs to her the awakening of the spirit. Like the sculptor, she isstriving to bring the angel of her dream into the face of the child; andwhen this hope is realized, the privilege of being a teacher seems thevery acme of human aspirations. The animated face and the flashing eyebetoken the sort of life that her teaching aims to stimulate; and whenshe sees these unmistakable manifestations, she knows that her bigenterprise is a success and rejoices accordingly. If, for any reason, her enthusiasm is running low, she takes herself in hand and soongenerates the enthusiasm that she knows is indispensable to the successof her enterprise. 

=Redemption of common from commonplace. =--She has the supreme gift ofbeing able to redeem the common from the plane of the commonplace. Indeed, she never permits any fact of the books to become commonplace toher pupils. They all know that Columbus discovered America in 1492, butwhen the recitation touches this fact she invests it with life andmeaning and so makes it glow as a factor in the class exercise. Thehumdrum traditional teacher asks the question; and when the pupil dronesforth the answer, "Columbus discovered America in 1492, " she dismissesthe whole matter with the phonographic response, "Very good. " What afarce! What a travesty upon the work of the teacher! Instead of beingvery good, it is bad, yea, inexpressibly bad. The artist teacher does itfar better. By the magic of her touch she causes the imagination of herpupils to be fired and their interest to thrill with the mightysignificance of the great event. They feel, vicariously, the poverty ofColumbus in his appeals for aid and wish they might have been there toassist. They find themselves standing beside the intrepid mariner, watching the angry waves striving to beat him back. They watch himpeering into space, day after day, and feel a thousand pities for him inhis suspense. And when he steps out upon the new land, they want toshout out their salvos and proclaim him a victor. 

=The voyage of Columbus. =--They have yearned, and striven, and prayedwith Columbus, and so have lived all the events of his greatachievements. Hence, it can never be commonplace in their thinking. Theteacher lifted it far away from that plane and made it loom high andlarge in their consciousness. A dramatic critic avers that the action ofthe play occurs, not upon the stage, but in the imagination of theauditors; that the players merely cause the imagination to produce theaction; and that if nothing were occurring in the imagination of thepeople in the seats beyond what is occurring on the stage, the audiencewould leave the theater by way of protest. The artist teacher acts uponthis very principle in every class exercise. Neither the teacher nor thebook can possibly depict even a moiety of all that she hopes to producein the imagination of the pupils. She is ever striving to find the oneword or sentence that will evoke a whole train of events in their minds. Just here is where her superb art is shown. A whole volume could notportray all that the imagination of the pupils saw in connection withthe voyage of Columbus, and yet the teacher caused all these things tohappen by the use of comparatively few words. This is high art; thisproclaims the artist teacher. 

=Resourcefulness. =--In her work there is a fineness and a delicacy oftouch that baffles a satisfactory analysis. She has the power to callforth Columbus from the past to reënact his great discovery in theimagination of her pupils--all without noise, or bombast, orgesticulation. She does what she does because she is what she is; andshe needs neither copyright nor patent for protection. Her work issuffused with a rare sort of enthusiasm that carries conviction byreason of its genuineness. This enthusiasm gives to her work a tone anda flavor that can neither be disguised nor counterfeited. Her work isdistinctive, but not sensational or pyrotechnic. Least of all is it everhackneyed. So resourceful is she in devising new plans and new ways ofsaying and doing things that her pupils are always animated by awholesome expectancy. She is the dynamo, but the light and heat that shegenerates manifest themselves in the minds of her pupils, while sheremains serene and quiet. 

=The thirteen colonies. =--With the poet Keats she can sing:

 Beauty is truth, truth beauty, that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know. 

Animated by this sentiment, she disdains no form of truth, whether largeor small, for in every form of truth she finds beauty; and her spiritreacts to it on the instant, and joy is the resultant. This is the basisfor her superb enthusiasm in every detail of her work as well as thesource of her joyous living. Her pupils may name the thirteen originalcolonies without a slip, but that is not enough for her. Theestablishing of these colonies formed a mighty epoch in history, and shemust dwell upon the events until they throb through the life currents ofher pupils. Names in books must mean people with all their hopes, theiraspirations, their trials and hardships, their sorrows and their joys. The conditions of life, the food, the clothing, the houses, the modes oftravel, and the dangers must all come into the mental picture. Hence itis that she prepares for the lesson on the colonies as she would makeready for a trip with the pupils around the world, and the mere givingof names is negligible in her inspiring enterprise. 

=Every subject invested with life. =--She finds in the circulation of theblood a subject of great import and makes ready for the lesson withenthusiastic anticipation. Her step is elastic as she takes her way toschool on this particular day, and her face is beaming, for to-day comesto the children this stupendous revelation. She feels as did the collegeprofessor when he was just ready to begin an experiment in hislaboratory and said to his students, "Gentlemen, please remove yourhats; I am about to ask God a question. " She approaches every truthreverently, albeit joyously, for she feels that she is the leader of thechildren over into the Promised Land. In the book already quoted, Professor Phelps says, "I read in a German play that the mathematicianis like a man who lives in a glass room at the top of a mountain coveredwith eternal snow--he sees eternity and infinity all about him, but notmuch humanity. " Not so in her teaching of mathematics; for every subjectand every problem transports her to the Isle of Patmos, and the hour iscrowded with revelations. 

=Human interest. =--And wherever she is, there is humanity. There are nodry bones in her work, for she invests every subject with human interestand causes it to pulsate in the consciousness of her pupils. If thereare dry bones when she arrives, she has but to touch them with the magicof her humanity, and they become things of life. Whether long divisionor calculus, it is to her a part of the living, palpitating truth of theworld, and she causes it to live before the minds of the pupils. Theso-called dead languages spring to life in her presence, and, likeAaron's rod, blossom and bring forth at her touch. Wherever she walksthere are resurrections because life begets life. No science, nomathematics, no history, no language, can be dull or dry when touched byher art, but all become vital because she is vital. By the subtlealchemy of her artistic teaching all the subjects of her school aretransmuted into the pure gold of truth and beauty. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. What kinds of arts are there other than the fine arts?

2. How do the motives of the artisan differ from those of the artist?

3. What are some of the characteristics that gain one the distinction ofbeing an "artist" teacher?

4. Show that to enjoy respect is more worth while than to attractadmiration. 

5. Under what conditions can one have joy in his work? Can one do hisbest without it?

6. What is the result on one's work of brooding over troubles?

7. Henry Ford employs trained sociologists who see that the homerelations of his employees are satisfactory. Why?

8. Is one who reads good literature to acquire culture as yet an"artist" teacher?

9. What constitutes character?

10. What is the inference concerning one's culture if his clothes andbody are not clean? If his property at the school is not in order?

11. How can one add to his culture? Is what one knows or what one doesthe more important part of it? Has a high degree of culture beenattained by a person who must ever be on his guard?

12. Is feeling an important element of culture? Illustrate. 

13. What is the teacher's chief reward?

14. Can a teacher lead pupils to regard work as a privilege rather thanas a task, unless she has that attitude herself?

15. In what respects do you regard teaching as a privilege? In whatrespects is it drudgery to you?

16. Can enthusiasm result if there is a lack of joy in one's work? Ifthere is a deficiency of physical strength? If there is a poor knowledgeof the subject?

17. What causes historical facts to seem commonplace?

18. What elements should be emphasized in history to make it seem alivewith meaning?

19. What principle of the drama comes into play in teaching, when ateacher desires to invest the subject with life?

20. What advantages are there in having variety in one's plans?

21. Why should one avoid the sensational in school work? What are thecharacteristics of sensationalism? Is the fact that a class is unusuallyaroused a reason for decrying a method as sensational?

22. With what spirit should a teacher prepare to teach about thethirteen colonies?

23. Why should a teacher have great joy in the teaching of science?

24. Is interest in a subject as an abstract science likely to be anadequate interest? If so, is it the best sort of interest? Why?

25. From what should interest start, and in what should it function?

26. Summarize the ways in which the artist teacher will show herself theartist. 

CHAPTER XIV

THE TEACHER AS AN IDEAL

=Responsibility of the exemplar. =--If the teacher could be convincedthat each of her pupils is to become a replica of herself, she wouldmore fully appreciate the responsibilities of her position. At firstflush, she might feel flattered; but when she came into a fullrealization of the magnitude of the responsibility, she would probablyseek release. If she could know that each pupil is striving to copy herin every detail of her life, her habits of speech, her bodily movements, her tone of voice, her dress, her walk, and even her manner of thinking, this knowledge would appall her, and she would shrink from theresponsibility of becoming the exemplar of the child. She cannot know, however, to what extent and in what respects the pupils imitate her. Nor, perhaps, could they themselves give definite information on thesepoints, if they were put to the test. Children imitate their elders bothconsciously and unconsciously; so, whether the teacher wills it so ornot, she must assume the functions of an exemplar as well as a teacher. 

=Absorbing standards. =--If we give full credence to Tennyson'sstatement, "I am a part of all that I have met, " then it follows that wehave become what we are, in some appreciable measure, through theprocess of absorption. In other words, we are a composite of all ourideals. The vase of flowers, daintily arranged, on the breakfast tablebecomes the standard of good taste thenceforth, and all through life avase of flowers arranged less than artistically gives one a sensation ofdiscomfort. A traveler relates that in a hotel in Brussels he saw windowcurtains of a delicate pattern; and, since that time, he has sought inmany cities for curtains that will fill the measure of the ideal heabsorbed in that hotel. Beauty is not in the thing itself, but in theeye of the beholder, and the eye is but the interpreter of the ideal. One person rhapsodizes over a picture that another turns away from, because the latter has absorbed an ideal that is unknown to the former. 

=Education by absorption. =--This subject of absorption has not receivedthe careful attention that its importance warrants. In the socialconsciousness education has been so long associated with books, andformal processes, that we find it difficult to conceive of educationoutside of or beyond books. If, as we so confidently assert, educationis a spiritual process, then whatever stimulates the spirit must beeducation, whether a landscape, a flower, a picture, or a person. Thetraveler who sits enrapt before the Jungfrau for an hour or a day isbecoming more highly educated, even in the absence of books andformalities. The beauty of the mountain touches his spirit, and there isa consequent reaction that fulfills all the claims of the educationalprocesses. In short, he is lifted to a higher plane of appreciation, andthat is what the books and the schools are striving to achieve. 

=The principle illustrated. =--In the presence of this mountain thetourist gains an ideal of grandeur which becomes his standard ofestimating scenery throughout life. A boy once heard "The Dead March"played by an artist, and when he was grown to manhood that was still hisideal of majestic music. A traveler asserts that no man can stand for anhour on the summit of Mt. Rigi and not become a better and a strongerman for the experience. A writer on art says that it is worth a tripacross the ocean to see the painting of the bull by Paul Potter; butthat, of course, depends upon the ideals of the beholder. All theseillustrations conform to and are in harmony with the psychologicaldictum that in the educational process the spirit reacts to itsenvironment. 

=The teacher as environment. =--But the environment may include people aswell as inanimate objects, mountains, rivers, flowers, and pictures. And, as a part of the child's environment, the teacher takes her placein the process of education by absorption. A city superintendent aversthat there is one teacher in his corps who would be worth more to hisschool than the salary she receives even if she did no teaching. Thismeans that her presence in the school is a wholesome influence, and thatshe is the sort of environment to which the pupils react to their ownadvantage. It might not be a simple thing to convince some taxpayers ofthe truth of the superintendent's statement, but this fact only provesthat they have not yet come into a realization of the fact that therecan be education by absorption. 

=The Great Stone Face. =--The people of Florence maintain that they neednot travel abroad to see the world, for the reason that the world comesto them. It is true that many thousands visit that city annually to wina definition of art. There they absorb their ideals of art and thusattain abiding standards. In like manner the child may sojourn in theschool to gain an ideal of grace of manner and personal charm asexemplified by the teacher, and no one will have the temerity to assertthat this phase of the child's education is less important than thosethat are acquired through the formal processes. The boy in the storygrew into the likeness of the "Great Stone Face" because that had becomehis ideal, and not because he had had formal instruction in the subjectof stone faces, or had taken measurements of or computed the dimensionsof the one stone face. He grew into its likeness because he thought ofit, dreamed of it, absorbed it, and was absorbed by it, and reacted toit whenever it came into view. 

=Pedagogy in literature. =--Hawthorne, in this story, must have beentrying to teach the lesson of unconscious education or education byabsorption, but his readers have not all been quick to catch hismeaning. Teachers often take great unction in the reflection that theyafford to the child his only means of education, and that but for themthe child would never become educated at all. We are slow to admit thatthere are many sources of education besides the school, and that formalinstruction is not the only road to the acquisition of knowledge. Tennyson knew and expressed this conception in the quotation alreadygiven, but we have not acquired the habit of consulting the poets andnovelists for our pedagogy. When we learn to consult these, we shallfind them expressing many tenets of pedagogy that are basic. 

=The testimony of experience. =--But we need not go beyond our ownexperiences to realize that much of our education has been unconsciouslygained, that we have absorbed much of it, and, possibly, what we nowregard as the most vital part of it. We have but to explore our ownexperiences to discover some person whose standards have been effectivein luring us out of ourselves and causing us to yearn toward higherlevels; who has been the beacon light toward which our feet have beenstumbling; who has been the pattern by which we have sought to shape ourlives; and for whom we feel a sense of gratitude that cannot bequenched. The influence of that person has been a liberal education inthe vital things that the books do not teach, and we shudder to thinkwhat we might have been had that influence not come into our lives. Thisideal is not some mythical, far-away person, but a real man or woman whohas challenged our admiration by looks, by conduct, by position, and bygeneral bearing in society. 

=The one teacher. =--This preliminary part of the subject has been dweltupon thus at length in an effort to win assent to the generalproposition that unconscious education is not only possible, but anactuality. This assent being once given, the mind feels out at once forapplications of the principle and, inevitably, brings the parent and theteacher into the field of view. But the parent is too near to us intime, in space, and in relation to afford the illustration that we seek, and we pass on to the teacher. In the experience of each one of us therestands out at least one teacher as clear in definition as a cameo. Thisteacher may not have been the most scholarly, or the most successful inpopular esteem, or even the most handsome, but she had some quality thatdifferentiates her in our thinking from all others. Others may seem buta sort of blur in our memory, but not so this one. She alone isdistinct, distinctive, and regnant. 

=Her supremacy. =--The vicissitudes of life have not availed to dethroneher, nor have the losses, perplexities, and sorrows of life caused thelight of her influence to grow dim. She is still an abiding presencewith us, nor can we conceive of any influence that could possiblyobliterate her. She may have been idealized by degrees, but when shecame fully into our lives she came to stay. She came not as a transientguest, but as a lifelong friend and comrade. She crept into our lives asgently as the dawn comes over the hills, and since her arrival there hasbeen no sunset. Nor was there ever by pupil or teacher any profession orprotestation, but we simply accepted each other with a frankness thatwould have been weakened by words. 

=The rôle of ideal. =--But the rôle of ideal is not an easy one. It is acomparatively simple matter to give instruction in geography, arithmetic, and history, but to know one's self to be the ideal of achild, or to conceive of the possibility of such a situation andrelation, is sufficient to render the teacher deeply thoughtful. Once itis borne in upon her that the child will grow into her likeness, shecannot dismiss the matter from her thinking as she can the lesson ingrammar. The child may be unconscious of the matter, but the teacher isacutely conscious. When she stands before her class she sees the childgrowing into her image, and this reflection gives cause and occasion fora careful and critical introspection. She feels constrained to take aninventory of herself to determine whether she can stand a test that isso searching and so far-reaching. 

=The teacher's other self. =--As she stands thus in contemplation she seesthe child grown to maturity with all her own predilections--physical, mental, spiritual--woven into the pattern of its life. In this childgrown up she sees her other self and can thus estimate the qualities ofbody, mind, and spirit that now constitute herself, as they revealthemselves in another. She thus gains the child's point of view and so isable to see herself through the child's eyes. When she is reading a book, she is aware that the child is looking over her shoulder to note thequality of literature that engages her interest. When she is making apurchase at the shop, she finds the child standing at her elbow andduplicating her order. When she is buying a picture, she is careful tosee to it that there are two copies, knowing that a second copy must beprovided for the child. When she is arranging her personal adornment, sheis conscious of the child peeping through the door and absorbing her withlanguishing eyes. 

=The status irrevocable. =--Wherever she goes or whatever she does, sheknows that the child is walking in her footsteps and reënacting herconduct. Her status is irrevocably fixed in the life of the child, norcan any philosophy or sophistry absolve her from the situation. Shecannot abdicate her place in favor of another, nor can she win immunityfrom responsibility. She is the child's ideal for weal or woe, nor canmen or angels change this big fact. Through all the hours of the day shehears the child saying, "Whither thou goest I will go, " and there is noescape. 

=The child's viewpoint. =--This is no flight of fancy. Rather it is areality in countless schoolrooms of the land if only the teachers werealive to the fact. But we have been so busy measuring, estimating, scoring, and surveying the child for our purposes that we have given butscant consideration to the child's point of view as regards the teacher. We have not been quick to note the significant fact that the child isestimating, measuring, scoring, and surveying the teacher for purposesof its own and in the strictest obedience to the laws of its nature. 

=The child's need of ideals. =--Every child needs and has a right toideals, and finds the teacher convenient both in space and in the natureof her work to act in this capacity. Because of the character of herwork and her peculiar relation to the child, the teacher assumes a placeof leadership, and the child naturally appropriates her as the lodestarfor which his nature is seeking. And so, whether the teacher leads intothe morass or into the jungle, the child will follow; but if she electsto take her way up to the heights, there will be the child as faithfulas her shadow. If the teacher plucks flowers by the way, then, in time, gathering flowers will become habitual to the child, nor will there beany need to admonish the child to gather flowers. The teacher plucksflowers, and that becomes the child's command. Education by absorptionneeds neither admonition nor homilies. 

=The ideal a perpetual influence. =--And all this is life--actual life, fundamental life, and inevitable life. Moreover, the inevitableness ofthis phase of life serves to accentuate its importance. The idealizedteacher gives to the child his ideals of conduct, literature, art, music, home, school, and service. Take this teacher out of his life andthese ideals vanish. Better by far eliminate the formal instruction, important as that may be made to be, than to rob the child of hisideals. They are the influences that are ever active even when formalinstruction is quiescent. They are potent throughout the day andthroughout the year. They induce reactions and motor activities thatgroove into habits, and they are the external stimuli to which thespirit responds. 

=The teacher's attitude. =--The vitalized school takes full cognizance ofthis phase and means of education and gives large scope and freedom forits exercise and development. The teacher is more concerned with who andwhat her pupils are to be twenty years hence than she is in getting thempromoted to the next grade. She knows full well that vision clarifiessight, and she is eager to enlarge their vision in order to make theirsight more keen and clear. She, therefore, adopts as her own standardsof life and conduct what she wishes for her pupils when they have cometo maturity. She may not proclaim herself an ideal teacher or a modelteacher, but she is cognizant of the fact that she is the model and theideal of one or more pupils in her school and bases her rule of lifeupon this fact. 

=Prophetic conduct. =--In her dress she decides between ornateness andsimplicity as a determining factor in the lives of her pupils both forthe present and for the years to come. In this she feels that she is butdoing her part in helping to determine the trend and quality ofcivilization. She is reading such books as she hopes to find in theirlibraries when they have come to administer homes of their own. She isdirecting her thinking into such channels as will bear the thoughts ofher pupils out into the open sea of bigness and sublimity. Knowing thatpettiness will be inimical to society in the next generation, she iscareful to banish it from her own life. 

=Her rule of life. =--In her thinking she comes into intimate relationswith the sea and all its ramified influences upon life. She invites themountains to take her into their confidence and reveal to her themysteries of their origin, and their influence upon the winds, theseasons, the products of the earth, and upon life itself. She communeswith the great of all times that she may learn of their concepts as tothe immensities which the mind can explore, as well as intricate andinfinite manifestations of the human soul. She associates with theplanets and rides the spaces in their company. She asks the flowers, thesunrise glow of the morning, the hues of the rainbow, and the drop ofdew to explain to her what God is, and rejoices in their responses. 

=Her growth. =--And so, through her thinking she grows big--big in heraspirations, big in her sympathies with all nature and mankind, big inher altruism, and big in her conceptions of the universe and all that itembraces. And when people come to know her they almost lose sight of theteacher in their contemplation of the woman. Her pupils, by their closecontact and communion, became inoculated with the germs of her bignessand so follow the lead of her thinking, her aspirations, her sympathies, and her conceptions of life. Thus they grow into her likeness byabsorbing her thoughts, her ideals, her standards, in short, herself. 

=Seeing life large. =--The bigness of her spirit and her ability to seeand feel life in the large superinduce dignity, poise, and serenity. Shenever flutters; but, calm and masterful, she moves on her majestic waywith regal mien. Nor is her teaching less thorough or less effectivebecause she has a vision. On the contrary, she teaches cube root withaccuracy and still is able to see and to cause her pupils to see theindex finger pointing out and up toward the mathematical infinities. Shecan give the latitude and longitude of Rome, and, while doing so, reviewthe achievements of that historic city. She can explain the action ofthe geyser and still find time and inclination to take delight in itswonders. She can analyze the flower and still revel in its beauty. Shecan teach the details of history and find in them the footprints ofgreat historical movements. All these things her pupils sense and soinvest her with the attributes of an ideal. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Do most teachers realize to what extent they have influence?

2. Is it comfortable to think that one is an example? If not, why not?Is it only teachers who need to feel that they are examples? Is it fairto demand a higher standard of the teacher and preacher?

3. Give from your own experience instances in which you have absorbed anideal which has persisted. Is there danger of adopting an ideal that, while it is worthy as far as it goes, is merely incidental and not worthwhile? (Such are an accurate memory of unimportant details, certainfinesse in manners and speech, punctiliousness in engagements, exhaustiveness in shopping before making purchases, perfection inpenmanship and other arts at the expense of speed: suggest others. )

4. How can the contemplation of a rainbow educate? What education shouldresult from a view of Niagara Falls?

5. What qualities would a teacher have to possess that her influenceaside from her teaching might be of more value than the teaching itself?

6. That one may have influence is it enough for one to be good, or is itwhat one does that counts? Suggest lines of action for a teacher thatwould increase her influence for good. 

7. Explain how a fine unconscious influence exerted by a teacher helpsto keep pupils in school. 

8. In Hawthorne's story of the _Great Stone Face_ what qualities wereattained by those whom Ernest expected to grow into the likeness?

9. Why did Ernest's face come to resemble that of the great stone face?

10. In what ways is good fiction of value to teachers?

11. Cite something that you have gained from the unconscious influenceof another. 

12. What attainments or qualities have you yet to acquire in order tostand out as "distinctive and regnant" to a good many pupils?

13. A bacteriologist makes a "culture" of a drop of blood, multiplyingmany times the bacteria in it, to determine whether serious diseasegerms are prevalent. If the influence of a person could be observed in alarge way, would that be conclusive as to the person's character, justas the result of the culture proves the condition of the blood? Maythere not be an obscure element in the teacher's character that ishaving a deleterious effect? Or is it only the outstanding features ofhis conduct that affect the pupils?

14. Why is it more important to acquire ideals than to acquireknowledge?

15. Describe the attitude of the teacher toward the pupils in the"vitalized" school. 

16. Show how the teacher should have in view the future of the pupils. 

17. Is it a compliment to be easily recognized as a teacher? Why or whynot?

18. Just what is meant by "narrowness" in a teacher? What is meant by"bigness"? What is their effect if the teacher is taken as an ideal?

19. Can one instill high ideals in others without frequently absorbinginspiration himself? What are suitable sources?

CHAPTER XV

THE SOCIALIZED RECITATION

=The term defined. =--The socialized recitation, as its name implies, isa recitation in which teacher and pupils form themselves into acommittee of the whole for the purpose of investigating some phase of aschool study. In this committee the line of cleavage between teacher andpupils is obliterated as nearly as possible, the teacher exercising onlyso much of authority as will preserve the integrity of the group andforestall its disintegration. The teacher thus becomes a coördinate andcoöperating member of the group, and her superior knowledge of thesubject is held in abeyance to be called into requisition only in anemergency and as a last resort. It will readily be seen, however, thatthe teacher's knowledge of the subject must be far more comprehensive insuch a procedure than in the question-and-answer type of recitation, forthe very cogent reason that the discussion is both liable and likely todiverge widely from the limits of the book; and the teacher must beconversant, therefore, with all the auxiliary facts. She must be able tocite authorities in case of need, and make specific data readilyaccessible to all members of the group. This presupposes wide reading onher part, and a consequent familiarity with all the sources of knowledgethat have a bearing upon the subject under consideration. 

=The pupil-teacher. =--In order to make the coöperative principle of therecitation active in practice a pupil acts as chairman of the meeting, serving in rotation, and gives direction to the discussion. He isclothed with authority, also, to restrict the discussion to time limitsthat there may be no semblance of monopoly and that the same rights andprivileges may be accorded to each member of the class. The chairman, inshort, acts both as captain and as umpire, with the teacher in thebackground as the court of final appeal. Knowing the order of rotation, each pupil knows in advance upon what day he is to assume the functionsof chairman and makes preparation accordingly, that he may acquithimself with credit in measuring up to the added responsibilities whichthe position imposes. In taking the chair he does not affect an air ofsuperiority for the reason that he knows the position to have come tohim by rotation and that upon his conduct of the duties depend hischances for honor; and acting for his peers he is careful not to doanything that will lead to a forfeiture of their respect and good will. 

=Some advantages. =--It requires far more time to describe thesepreliminary arrangements than it does to put them into operation. Indeed, after the first day, they become well-nigh automatic. Because oftheir adaptableness the pupils look upon the new order as theestablished order, and, besides, the rotation in the chair affords apleasing antidote to monotony. Each day brings just enough novelty togenerate a wholesome degree of anticipation. They are all stimulated byan eagerness to know just what the day will bring forth. The classexercise is relieved of much of the heavy formalism that characterizesthe traditional recitation and that is so irksome to children of schoolage. The socialized recitation is a worthy enterprise that enlists theinterest of all members of the group and unifies them upon the plane ofa common purpose. In the common quest they become members in a socialcompact whose object is the investigation of some subject that has beenfound worthy the attention and thoughtful consideration of scholars andauthors. 

=The gang element. =--The members of the group represent all strata ofsociety, and the group is, in consequence, a working democracy. Movingin the same direction under a common impulse and intent upon a laudableenterprise, race and class distinctions are considered negligible, if, indeed, they are not entirely overlooked or forgotten. The group is, intruth, a sublimated gang with the undesirable elements eliminated andthe potential qualities of the gang retained. The gang spirit whenimpelling in right directions and toward worthy ends is to be highlycommended. In the gang, each member stimulates and reënforces the othermembers, and their achievements in combination amply justify theircoöperation. The potency of the gang spirit is well exemplified in suchenterprises as "tag day" for the benefit of charity, the sale of RedCross stamps, and the sale of special editions of papers. Peoplewillingly enlist in these enterprises who would not do so but for theelement of coöperation. We have come to recognize and write upon thepsychology of the gang, and the socialized recitation strives to utilizethese psychological principles for the advancement and advantage of theenterprise in hand. 

=Proprietary interest. =--In a coöperative enterprise such as the oneunder consideration each member of the group feels a sense ofresponsibility for the success of the enterprise as a whole, and thismakes for increased effort. In the traditional recitation the pupilfeels responsibility only for that part of the lesson upon which he iscalled to recite. In his thinking the enterprise belongs to the teacher, and therefore he feels no proprietary interest. If the lesson is afailure, he experiences no special compunction; if a success, he feelsno special elation. If the trunk with which he struggles up the stairsis his own, he has the feeling of a victor when he reaches the top; butsince it belongs to the teacher, he feels that he has finished adisagreeable task, takes his compensating pittance in the form of agrade, and goes on his complacent way. The boy who digs potatoes fromhis own garden thinks them larger and smoother than the ones he digs forwages. The latter are potatoes, while the former are his potatoes. Proprietary interest sinks its roots deep into the motives that impel toaction. 

=This interest in practice. =--The recitation in question strives togenerate a proprietary interest in the enterprise on the part of everymember of the class so that each one may have a share in the joy ofsuccess. Such an interest gives direction and efficacy to the work ofthe class exercise. Given such an interest, the pupil will not sit inertthrough the period unless stimulated by a question from the teacher, butwill ask intelligent and pertinent questions to help the enterprisealong. Moreover, each pupil, because of his proprietary interest in theenterprise, will feel constrained to bring to class such subsidiary aidsas his home affords. His interest causes him to react to clippings, pictures, magazine articles, books, and conversations that have abearing upon the topic, and these he contributes opportunely in his zealfor the success of the recitation. His pockets become productive of avaried assortment of materials that the tentacles of his interest haveseized upon in his preparation for the event, and so all members of theclass become beneficiaries of his explorations and discoveries. 

=The potency of ownership. =--A child is interested in his own things. The little girl fondles her doll in the most tender way, even though itdoes not measure up to the accepted standards of excellence or elegance. But it is her doll; hence her affection. Volumes have been written uponthe general subject of interest, and we have been admonished to attachour teaching to the native interests of the child, but the fundamentalinterest of proprietorship has strangely enough been overlooked. If wewant to discover and localize the child's interest, we have but to makean inventory of his possessions. His pony, his dog, or his cart willdiscover to us one of his interests. Again, if we would generate aninterest in the child, we have but to make him conscious that he is theowner of the thing for which we hope to awaken his interest. This isfundamental in this type of recitation. The teacher effaces herself asmuch as possible in order to develop in the pupils a feeling ofproprietorship in the exercise in progress, and the pupils are quick totake the advantage thus afforded to make the work their own. 

=Exemplified in society. =--The socialized recitation has its counterpartin many a group in society. In the blacksmith shop, at the grocery, inthe barber shop, in the office, at the club, and in the field, we findgroups of people in earnest, animated conversation or discussion. Theyare discussing politics, religion, community affairs, publicimprovements, tariff, war, fashions, crops, live stock, or machinery. Whatever the topic, they pursue the give-and-take policy in theirefforts to arrive at the truth. They contest every point and makeconcessions only when they are confronted by indisputable facts. Somefeeling, or even acrimony, may be generated in the course of thediscussion, but this is always accounted a weakness and a substitute forvalid argument. The recitation is rather more decorous than some ofthese other discussions, but, in principle, they are identical. Everyone has freedom to express his convictions and to adduce contributoryarguments or evidence. There are no restrictions save the implied one ofdecorum. The utmost courtesy obtains in the recitation, even at thesacrifice of some eagerness. There may be a half-dozen members of thegroup on their feet and anxious to be heard, but they do not interruptone another without due apology. 

=Abiding resultants. =--Unlike some of their elders, they are ready toacknowledge mistakes and to make concessions. They do not scruple tocorrect the mistakes of others, knowing that corrections will begratefully received, but they do not accept mere statements from oneanother. They must have evidence. They combat statements with evidencefrom books or other sources that are regarded as authorities. They readextracts, or draw diagrams, or display pictures or specimens in supportof their contentions. There is animation, to be sure; and, at times, theflushed face and the flashing eye betoken intense feeling. But thepsychologist knows full well that these expressions intensify and makeabiding the impressions. Both in victory and in defeat the pupil comesto an appreciation of the truth. Defeat may humiliate, but he willevermore know the rock on which his craft was wrecked. Victory may elateand exalt, but he will not forget the occasion or the facts. The truthsof the lesson become enmeshed in his nervous system and throughout lifethey will be a part of himself. 

=Reflex influence. =--Still further, this type of recitation reaches backinto the home and begets a wholesome coöperation between the home andthe school, and this is a desideratum of no slight import. The events ofthe day are recounted at the home in the evening, and the contributionsof the members of the family are deposited as assets in the recitationthe next day. Then the family is eager to learn of the reactions of theclass to their contributions. Such a community of interests cannot beconfined to the four walls of a home, but finds its way to other homesand to places of business; the discussions of the class become theproperty of society, and the influence is most salutary. Indirectly, theschool is affording the people of the community many profitable topicsof conversation, and these readily supplant the futile and lessprofitable topics. It is easy to measure the intelligence of anindividual or of a community by noting the topics of conversation. Gossip and small talk do not thrive in a soil that has been thoroughlyinoculated with history, art, music, literature, economics, andstatecraft. 

=Influence upon pupils. =--From the foregoing it will be seen that thistype of recitation represents, not a _modus operandi_, but, rather, a_modus vivendi_, not a way of doing things, merely, but a manner ofliving. The work of the school is redeemed from the plane of a task andlifted to the plane of a privilege. The pupil's initiative is given fullrecognition and inspiriting freedom ensues. The teacher is not ataskmaster but a friend in need. Pupils and teacher live and worktogether in an enterprise in which they have common interests. Theemoluments attending success are shared equally and there is no placefor envy in the distribution of dividends. There is fair dealing inevery detail of the work, with no semblance of discrimination. There isa cash basis in every transaction. If a pupil's offerings are rejected, he sees at once that they are inferior to others and becomes a willingshareholder in the ones that are superior to his own. Nothing that isspurious or counterfeit can gain currency in the enterprise, because ofthe critical inspection of the members of the group, all of whom arejealous for the preservation of the integrity of their organization. 

In this cross section of life we find young people learning, by thelaboratory method, the real meaning of reciprocity; we find them winningthe viewpoints of others with no abatement or abrogation of their ownindividuality; we find them able and willing to make concessions for thegeneral good; we find them learning justice and discrimination in theirassessment of values; we find them enlarging their horizons by ascendingto higher levels of intelligence. This work is as much a part of lifefor them as their food or their games and they accept it on the sameterms. They are becoming upright, intelligent, effective citizens byperforming some of the work that engages the time and energies of suchcitizens. They are learning how to live by the experience of actualliving. 

=Part of an actual recitation given. =--Some schools have developed thistype of recitation to a very complete degree and in a very effectiveway. In one such school the young woman who teaches the subject ofhistory makes the following report of a part of one of her recitationsin this study:

The class was called to order by the chairman for the assignment for thenext day's lesson, which proceeded as follows:

Teacher:--To-morrow we shall have for the work of this convention theNew Constitution as a whole. We are ready for suggestions as to how wehad best proceed. 

Earl:--It seems to me that a good way would be to compare it with theArticles of Confederation. 

Joe:--I don't quite get your idea. Do you mean to take them article byarticle?

Earl:--Yes. 

(Joe and Frank begin at the same time. Teacher indicates Joe by nod. )

Joe:--But there are so many things in the new that are not in the old. 

Earl:--That is just it. Let's make a list of the points in one that donot appear in the other. Then by investigation and discussion see if wecan tell why. 

Teacher:--Frank, you had something to say a moment ago. 

Frank:--Not on Earl's plan, which I think an excellent one, but I wishedto ask the class if they think it important while looking through thesetwo documents to keep in mind the questions: "Is this the way things aredone to-day?" and "Does this apply in our own city?" and "In case thePresident or Congress failed in their duty, what could the people doabout it?"

Ella:--It seems to me that Frank's suggestion is a good one for it bearsupon what we decided in the beginning, that we must apply the history ofthe past to see how it affects us to-day. 

Violet:--I should like to know how the people received the work of thisconvention. You know that it was all so secret no one knew what theywere doing behind their closed doors. If the people were like they areto-day there would certainly be some opposition to the New Constitution. 

Elsie:--Good. Mr. Chairman, I move that Violet report the reception andrejection of the New Constitution by the people of the several States asa special topic for to-morrow. 

Robert:--Second the motion. 

Chairman:--Miss Brown, have you any suggestion as to time limit?

Teacher:--I suggest ten minutes. (Chairman puts vote and suggestion iscarried. )

Teacher:--Mr. Chairman, may we have the secretary read the severalpoints in the assignment?

At the chairman's request the secretary reads and the class note asfollows: Study of the New Constitution, emphasizing points of similarityand difference. 

Seek reasons for same. 

Application of Constitution to our present-day life. 

Remedy for failures if officers fail to do their duty. 

Special topic ten minutes in length on the reception of the Constitutionby the people of the different States. 

Teacher:--I think that will be enough--consult the text. In connectionwith the special topic some valuable material may be found in the Civicssection in the reference room. The other references on this subject youhad given you. Mr. Chairman, may we have the secretary read the pointsbrought out by yesterday's recitation?

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. What is meant by the "socialized recitation" as the term is hereused?

2. Define separately the word "socialized" as used in this connection. 

3. What are the teacher's functions in such a recitation?

4. What are the teacher's functions in the traditional recitation?

5. Compare the kinds of knowledge required of a teacher in connectionwith the two types of recitations. 

6. Suggest a method of proceeding in a socialized recitation and showthe advantages of the method. 

7. Give some of the reasons why the socialized recitation enhancesinterest. 

8. What is the essence of the "gang spirit"?

9. Compare the character and extent of the individual's responsibilityin the two types of recitations. 

10. In what other ways is the socialized recitation likely to producebetter reactions?

11. Some one says that the convention style of recitation will not do, because a few do all of the work. From your experience or observation doyou find this true? If so, is this condition peculiar to that type ofrecitation? Suggest methods of counteracting this tendency in thesocialized class. Would these prove effective in a class taught in theordinary way?

12. Is one likely to overestimate the value of one's possessions, mentalor physical? Are the pupils (and perhaps the teacher) likely tooverestimate what is done in the socialized recitation? What things mayoffset this tendency?

13. Compare the socialized recitation with a debate. 

14. Compare it with an ordinary discussion or argument. 

15. Show just why the results of the socialized recitation are likely tobe permanent. 

16. How does socialized class work affect the home and society?

17. Though school is a preparation for life, it, at the same time, islife. Show that the socialized recitation presupposes this truth. 

18. Compare the value of the assignment of a history lesson in themanner described in the notes quoted with the value of an ordinaryassignment. 

19. Describe at least one other socialized recitation. 

20. Compare socialized work as described in Scott's Social Education (C. A. Scott, Ginn & Co. , 1908) with the socialized recitation heredescribed, as to (_a_) aim, (_b_) method, (_c_) results. 

21. "Lessons require two kinds of industry, the private individualindustry and the social industry or class work. " Is this true? If so, what sort of recitation-lesson will stimulate each kind?

CHAPTER XVI

AGRICULTURE

=Agriculture a typical study. =--In the vitalized school the subject ofagriculture is typical and may profitably be elaborated somewhat by wayof illustrating the relation of a subject to school procedure. Fromwhatever angle we approach the subject of agriculture we find itinextricably connected with human life. This fact alone gives to it therank of first importance. Its present prominence as a school study isconclusive evidence that those who are charged with the responsibilityof administering the schools are becoming conscious of the need forvitalizing them. Time was when arithmetic was regarded as the mostpractical subject in the school and, therefore, it was given precedenceover all others. History, grammar, and geography were relegated tosecondary rank, and agriculture was not even thought of as a schoolstudy. But as population increased and the problem of providing foodbegan to loom large in the public consciousness, the subject ofagriculture assumed an importance that rendered it worthy a place in theschool curriculum. It is a high tribute to the school that whenever anysubject takes hold of the public mind the school is thought of at onceas the best agency for promulgating that subject. The subjects oftemperance and military training aptly illustrate this statement offact. 

=Its rapid development. =--So soon, therefore, as the subject ofagriculture became prominent in the public consciousness there ensued aspeedy development of colleges and schools of agriculture for thetraining of teachers. This movement was prophetic of the plan andpurpose to incorporate this study in the school régime. And thisprophecy has been fulfilled, for the school now looks upon agricultureas a basic study. True, we are as yet only feeling our way, and that forthe very good reason that the magnitude of the subject bewilders us. Wehave written many textbooks on the subject that were soon supplementedby better ones. The more the subject is studied, the more we appreciateits far-reaching ramifications. We find it attaching itself to manyother subjects to which it seemed to have but remote relation in theearlier stages of our study. In brief, we are now on the borderland of arealization of the fact that agriculture is as broad as life and, therefore, must embrace many other studies that have a close relation tolife. 

=Relation to geology and other sciences. =--In the beginning, geology andagriculture seemed far apart, but our closer study of agriculture hasrevealed the fact that they are intimately related. It remained foragriculture to lay the right emphasis upon geology. The study of thecomposition and nature of the soil carried us at once to a study of itsorigin and we found ourselves at the very door of geology. When we beganto inquire how the soil came to be where it is and what it is, we foundourselves yearning for new and clearer lines of demarcation in science, for we could scarcely distinguish between geology and physiography. Wesoon traced our alluvial plains back to their upland origin, and then wewere compelled to explain their migration. This led us inevitably intothe realm of meteorology, for, if we omit meteorology, the chain isbroken and we lose our way in our search for the explanation we need. But having availed ourselves of the aid of meteorology, we have a storythat is full of marvelous interest--the great story of the evolution ofthe cornfield. In this story we find many alluring details ofevaporation, air movements, precipitation, erosion, and the attractionof gravitation. But in all this we are but lingering in the anteroom ofagriculture. 

=The importance of botany. =--Advancing but a single step we findourselves in the realm of botany, which is a field so vast and sofascinating that men have devoted an entire lifetime to its wonders, andthen realized that they had but made a beginning in the way of exploringits possibilities. In our own time Mr. Burbank has made his name knownthroughout the world by his work in one phase of this subject, and ascore of other Burbanks might be working with equal success in otherbranches of the subject and still not trench upon one another's domain. Venturesome, indeed, would be the prophet who would attempt to predictthe developments in the field of botany in the next century in the wayof providing food, shelter, and clothing for the race. The possibilitiesstagger the imagination and the prophet stands bewildered as he facesthis ever-widening field. But botany, vast as it is seen to be, is onlyone of the branching sciences connected with agriculture. 

=Physics and chemistry. =--Another advance brings us into the wide andfertile field of physics and chemistry, for in these subjects we findthe means of interpreting much in agriculture that without their aidwould elude our grasp. We have only to resolve a grain of corn into itscomponent elements to realize the potency and scope of chemistry. Thenif we inquire into the sources of these elements as they have come fromthe soil to form this grain of corn, the indispensability of a knowledgeof chemistry will become more apparent. In our explanations we shallsoon come upon capillary attraction, and the person is dull, indeed, whodoes not stand in awe before the mystery of this subject. If we broadenour inquiry so as to compass the evolution of an ear of corn, we shallrealize that we have entered upon an inquiry of vast and fascinatingimport. The intricate and delicate processes of growth, combining, asthey do, the influences of sunshine and moisture and the conversion intofood products of elements whose origin goes back to primevaltimes, --these processes are altogether worthy of the combinedenthusiasms of scientist and poet. 

=Physiology. =--But no mention has been made, as yet, of the science ofphysiology, which, alone, requires volumes. We have but to ask how wheatis converted into brain power to come upon a realization of themagnitude of the study of this science. We have only to relax the leashof fancy to see that there are no limits to the excursions that may bemade in this field. If we allow fancy to roam, taking the _a posteriori_course, we might begin with "Paradise Lost" and reach its sources ingarden and field, in orchard, and in pasture where graze flocks andherds. But in any such fanciful meandering we should be well within thelimits of physiology, and should be trying to interpret the adaptationof means to end, or, to use the language of the present, we should bemaking a quest to determine how the products of field, orchard, andpasture may be utilized that they may function in poetry, in oratory, indiscoveries, and in inventions. In short, we should be trying to explainto ourselves how agriculture functions in life. 

=Art as an auxiliary. =--In a recent work of fiction a chapter opens witha picture of a little girl eating a slice of bread and butter which isfurther surmounted by apple sauce and sugar. If the author of the book"Agriculture and Life" had only caught a glimpse of this picture, hemight have changed the title of his book to "Life and Agriculture. " Hecertainly would have given to the life element far more prominence thanhis book in its present form affords. His title makes a promise whichthe book itself does not redeem, more's the pity. If science would useart as an ally, it need not be less scientific, and its teachings wouldprove far more palatable. The little girl with her bread and butterwould prove quite as apt as an introductory picture for a book onagriculture as for a work of fiction. It matters not that agricultureincludes so many other sciences, for life is the great objective of thestudy of all these, and the little girl exemplifies life. 

=Relation of sciences to life. =--The pictures are practically endlesswith which we might introduce the study of agriculture--a boy in theturnip field, a milkmaid beside the cow, or Millet's celebrated picture"Feeding the Birds. " And, sooner or later, pursuing our journey fromsuch a starting point, we shall arrive at physiology, chemistry, botany, physics, meteorology, and geology, and still never be detached from thesubject of life. In the school consciousness agriculture and domesticscience seem far apart, but by right teaching they are made to merge inthe subject of life. Upon that plane we find them to be complementaryand reciprocal. In the same way chemistry, botany, and physiology mergein agriculture for the reason that all these sciences as well asagriculture have to do with life. In the traditional school chemistry istaught as chemistry--as a branch of science, and the learner isencouraged to seek for knowledge. In the vitalized school the truths ofchemistry are no less clearly revealed, but, in addition, theirrelations to life are made manifest, and the learner has a fullerappreciation of life, because of his study of chemistry. 

=Traditional methods. =--In the traditional school domestic science istaught that the girl may learn how to cook; but in the vitalized schoolthe girl learns how to cook that she may be able to make life moreagreeable and productive both for herself and for others. In thetraditional school the study of agriculture consists of the testing ofsoils and seeds, working out scientific theories on the subject of therotation of crops, testing for food values the various products of thefarm, judging stock, studying the best method of propagating and caringfor orchards, and testing for the most economic processes for conservingand marketing crops. In the vitalized school all this is done, but thisis not the ultimate goal of the study. The end is not reached until allthese ramifications have touched life. 

=The child as the objective. =--Reverting once more to the little girl ofthe picture, it will be conceded, upon careful consideration, that sheis the center and focus of all the activities of mind and handpertaining to agriculture. Every furrow that is plowed is plowed forher; every tree that is planted is planted for her; every crop that isharvested is harvested for her; and every trainload of grain is movingtoward her as its destination. But for her, farm machinery would besilent, orchards would decay, trains would cease to move, and commercewould be no more. She it is that causes the wheels to turn, theharvesters to go forth to the fields, the experiment stations to beequipped and operated, the markets to throb with activity, and the shipsof commerce to ply the ocean. For her the orchard, the granary, thedairy, and the loom give of their stores, and a million willing handstill, and toil, and spin. 

=The story of bread. =--But the bread and butter, the apple sauce, andthe sugar! They may not be omitted from the picture. The breadtransports us to the fields of waving grain and conjures up in ourimagination visions of harvesters with their implements, wagons groaningbeneath their golden loads, riches of grain pouring forth from machines, and brings to our nostrils the tang of the harvest time. Into this sliceof bread the sun has poured his wealth of sunshine all the summer long, and into it the kindly clouds have distilled their treasures. In it wefind the glory of the sunrise, the sparkling dewdrop, the song of therobin, the gentle mooing of the cows, the murmur of the brook, and thecreaking of the mill wheel. In it we read the poetry of the morning andof the evening, the prophecy of the noontide heat, and the mightyproclamations of Nature. And it tells us charming stories of health, ofrosy cheeks, of laughing eyes, of happiness, of love and service. 

=Food and life. =--The butter, the apple sauce, and the sugar each has astory of its own to tell that renders fiction weak by comparison. If ourhearts were but attuned to the charm and romance of the stories theyhave to tell, every breakfast-table would be redolent with the fragranceof thanksgiving. If our hearts were responsive to the eloquence of thesestories, then eating would become a ceremony and upon the farmer whoprovides our food would descend our choicest benedictions. If the scalescould but fall from our eyes that we might behold the visions which ourfood foretells, we could look down the vista of the years and see thechildren grown to manhood and womanhood, happy and busy in their work ofenlarging and beautifying civilization. 

=Agriculture the source of life. =--Agriculture is not the sordid thingthat our dull eyes and hearts would make it appear. In it we shall findthe romance of a Victor Hugo, the poetry of a Shelley or a Shakespeare, the music of a Mozart, the eloquence of a Demosthenes, and the paintingof a Raphael, when we are able to interpret its real relation to life. When the morning stars sang together they were celebrating the birth ofagriculture, but man became bewildered in the mazes of commercialism andforgot the music of the stars. It is the high mission of the vitalizedschool to lead us back from our wanderings and to restore us to ourrightful estate amid the beauties, the inspiration, the poetry, and thefar-reaching prophecies of agriculture. This it can do only by revealingto us the possibilities, the glories, and the joy of life and causing usto know that agriculture is the source of life. 

=Synthetic teaching. =--The analytic teaching of agriculture will notavail; we must have the synthetic also. Too long have we stopped shortwith analysis. We have come within sight of the promised land but havefailed to go up and possess it. We have studied the skeleton ofagriculture but have failed to endow it with life. We must keep beforeour eyes the picture of the little girl. We must feel that thequintessence and spirit of agriculture throbs through all the arteriesof life. Here lies the field in which imagination can do its perfectwork. Here is a subject in which the vitalized school may find itshighest and best justification. By no means is it the only study thatfitly exemplifies life, but, in this respect, it is typical, andtherefore a worthy study. On the side of analysis the teacher finds theblade of grass to be a thing of life; on the side of synthesis she findsthe blade of grass to be a life-giving thing. And the synthesis is noless in accord with science than the analysis. 

=The element of faith. =--Then again agriculture and life meet and mergeon the plane of faith. The element of faith fertilizes life and causesit to bring forth in abundance. Man must have faith in himself, faith inthe people about him, and faith in his own plans and purposes to makehis life potent and pleasurable. By faith he attaches the truths ofscience to his plans and thus to the processes of life; for without thefaith of man these truths of science are but static. Faith gives themtheir working qualities. There is faith in the plowing of each furrow, faith in the sowing of the seed, faith in the planting of each tree, andfaith in the purchase of each machine. The farmer who builds a silo hasfaith that the products of the summer will bring joy and health to thewinter. By faith he transmutes the mountains of toil into valleys ofdelight. Through the eyes of faith he sees the work of his handsbringing in golden sheaves of health and gladness to his own and otherhomes. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. In what ways is agriculture a typical study?

2. Why was its importance not realized until recently?

3. What educational agency in your state first reflected the need ofscientific instruction in agriculture?

4. The study of agriculture in the public school was at first ridiculed. Why? What is now the general attitude toward it?

5. To what extent is the study of agriculture important in the cityschool? Is there another subject as important for the city school asagriculture is for the rural school?

6. Mention some school subjects that are closely related to agriculture. Show how each is related to agriculture. 

7. Is Luther Burbank's work to be regarded as botanical or asagricultural? Why? To which of these sciences do plant variation andimprovement properly belong?

8. In many schools agriculture and domestic science are associated inthe curriculum. What have they in common to justify this?

9. In the chemistry class in a certain school food products are examinedfor purity. How will this increase the pupils' knowledge of chemistry?

10. In a certain school six girls appointed for the day cook luncheonfor one hundred persons, six other girls serve it, and six others figurethe costs. Criticize this plan. 

11. Show how some particular phase of agricultural instruction mayfunction in agricultural practice. 

12. What benefits accrue to a teacher from the study of a subject in itsramifications?

13. In what respects is agriculture a noble pursuit? Compare it in thisrespect with law. How does agriculture lead to the exercise of faith?Teaching? Law? Electrical engineering?

CHAPTER XVII

THE SCHOOL AND THE COMMUNITY

=An analogy. =--If we may win a concept of the analogy between thevitalized school and a filtration-plant, we shall, perhaps, gain aclearer notion of the purpose of the school and come upon a justerestimate of its processes. The purpose of the filtration-plant is topurify, clarify, and render more conducive to life the stream thatpasses through, and the function of the school may be stated in the sameterms. The stream that enters the plant is murky and deeply impregnatedwith impurities; the same stream when it issues from the plant is clear, free from impurities, and, therefore, better in respect to nutritivequalities. The stream of life that flows into the school is composed ofmany heterogeneous elements; the stream that issues from the school isfar more homogeneous, clearer, more nearly free from impurities, and, therefore, more conducive to the life and health of the community. Thestream of life that flows into the school is composed of elements fromall countries, languages, and conditions. In this are Greeks andbarbarians, Jews and Gentiles, saints and sinners, the washed and theunwashed, the ignorant, the high, the low, the depraved, the weak, andthe strong. 

=Life-giving properties. =--The stream that issues from the school is thevery antithesis of all this. Instead of all these heterogeneouselements, the stream when it comes from the school is composed wholly ofAmericans. A hundred flags may be seen in the stream that enters theschool, but the stream that flows out from the school bears only theAmerican flag. The school has often been called the melting-pot, inwhich the many nationalities are fused; but it is far more than that. True, somehow and somewhere in the school process these elements havebeen made to coalesce, but that is not the only change that is wrought. The volume of life that issues from the school is the same as that whichenters, barring the leakage, but the resultant stream is far more potentin life-giving properties because of its passage through the school. 

=Changes wrought. =--When we see the stream entering the filtration-plantpolluted with impurities and then coming forth clear and wholesome, weknow that something happened to that stream in transit. Similarly, whenwe see the stream of life entering the school as a mere aggregation ofmore or less discordant elements and then coming forth in a virtuallyunified homogeny, we know that something has happened to that stream inits progress through the school. To determine just what happens ineither case is a task for experts and a task, moreover, that is wellworth while. In either case we may well inquire whether the things thathappen are the very best things that could possibly be made to happen;and, if not, what improvements are possible and desirable. 

=Another misconception. =--The analogy between the plant and the schoolwill not hold if we still retain in the parlance of school procedure theexpression "getting an education. " The act of getting implies materialsubstance. Education is not a substance but a process, and it ispalpably impossible to get a process. So there can be no such thing asgetting an education, in spite of the tenacity of the expression. Evento state the fact would seem altogether trite, were we not confrontedevery day with the fact that teachers and parents are either unable orunwilling to substitute some right expression for this wrong one. Education is not the process of getting but, rather, the process ofbecoming, and the difference is as wide as the difference between thetrue and the false. 

Just how long it will require to eradicate this conception from theschool and society no one can well conjecture. Its presence in ournomenclature reveals, in a marked way, the strength of habit. Manyteachers will give willing assent to the fact and then use theexpression again in their next sentence. Certainly we shall not evenapprehend the true function and procedure of the vitalized school untilwe have eliminated this expression. If we admit the validity of thecontention as to this expression, then we may profitably resume theconsideration of our analogy, for, in that case, we shall find in thisanalogy no ineptitude. 

=The validity of the analogy. =--We cause the stream of water to passthrough the filtration-plant that it may become rectified; we cause thestream of life to pass through the school that it may become rectified. When the stream of water becomes rectified, bodily disease is averted;when the stream of life is rectified, mental and spiritual disease isaverted. The analogy, therefore, holds good whether we consider theprocess itself or its effect. We have only to state the case thus tohave opened up for us a wide field for profitable speculation. Thediseases of mind and spirit that invade society are the causes that lieback of our police courts, our prisons, and, very often, our almshouses. Hence, if the stream of life could be absolutely rectified, theseundesirable institutions would disappear, and life for the entirecommunity would be far more agreeable by reason of their absence. 

=Function of the school. =--The school, then, is established andadministered to carry on this process of rectification. By means of thisprocess ignorance becomes intelligence, coarseness becomes culture, strife becomes peace, impurity becomes purity, disease becomes health, and darkness becomes light. The child comes into the school not to getsomething but to have something done to and for him that he may becomesomething that he was not before, and, therefore, that he may the betterexecute his functions as a member of society. In short, he comes intothe school that he may pass through the process of rectification. Inthis process he loses neither his name, his extraction, his identity, nor his individuality. On the contrary, all these attributes are soacted upon by the process that they become assets of the community. 

=Language. =--In order to lead to a greater degree of clarity it may bewell to be even more specific in explaining this process ofrectification. Language is fundamental in all the operations of society. It is indispensable to the grocer, the farmer, the lawyer, thephysician, the manufacturer, the housewife, and the legislator. It isthe means by which members of society communicate with one another, andwithout communication, in some form, there can be no social intercourse, and, therefore, no society. People are all interdependent, and languageis the bond of union. They must use the same language, of course, andthe words must be invested with the same meaning in order to beintelligible. 

=Language a social study. =--Just here great care must be exercised or weshall go astray in depicting the work of the school in dealing with thissubject of language. The child comes into the school with language of asort, but it needs rectification in order to render it readily availablefor the purposes of society. Herein lies the crux of the whole matter. If this child were not to become a member of society, it would matterlittle what sort of language he uses or whether he uses any language. Ifhe were to be banished to some island there to dwell alone, languagewould be unnecessary. Hence, his study of language in the school is, primarily, for the well-being of society and not for himself. Languageis so essential to the life processes that, without it, society would bethrown out of balance. The needs of society are paramount, and hencelanguage as it concerns the child relates to him chiefly if not whollyas a member of society. 

=Grammar. =--Grammar is nothing else than language reduced to a system ofcommon terms that have been agreed upon in the interests of society. People have entered into a linguistic compact, an agreement that certainwords and combinations of words shall be understood to mean certainthings. The tradesman must understand the purchaser or there can be noexchange. The ticket-agent must understand the prospective traveler orthe latter cannot take the journey and reach his destination. Hence, grammar, with all that the term implies, is a means of facilitating theactivities of society and pertains to the individual only in hisrelation to society. 

=Needs of society. =--True, the individual will find life more agreeablein society if he understands the common language, just as the traveleris more comfortable in a foreign country if he understands its language. But we need emphasis upon the statement that we have grammar in theschool because it is one of the needs of society. The individual may notneed chemistry, but society does need it, and the school must somehowprovide it because of this need. Hence we place chemistry in the schoolas one of the ingredients of the solvent which we employ in the processof rectification. Those who are susceptible to the influences of thisingredient will become inoculated with it and bear it forth into theuses of society. 

=Caution. =--But just here we find the most delicate and difficult taskof the school. Here we encounter some of the fundamental principles ofpsychology as explained and emphasized by James, McDougall, and Strayer. Here we must begin our quest for the native tendencies that conditionsuccessful teaching. We must discover what pupils are susceptible tochemistry before we can proceed with the work of inoculation. This hasbeen the scene and source of many tragedies. We have been wont to askwhether chemistry will be good for the boy instead of making an effortto discover whether the boy will be good for chemistry--whether hisnative tendencies render him susceptible to chemistry. 

=Some mistakes. =--Our procedure has often come but little short of aninquisition. We have followed our own predilections and prejudicesinstead of being docile at the feet of Nature and asking her what to do. We have applied opprobrious epithets and resorted to ostracism. We havebeen freely dispensing suspensions and expulsions in a vain effort toprove that the school is both omniscient and omnipotent. We have triedto transform a poet into a mechanic, a blacksmith into an artist, and anastronomer into a ditcher. And our complacency in the presence of themisfits of the school is the saddest tragedy of all. We have takencounsel with tradition rather than with the nature of the pupil, thewhile rejoicing in our own infallibility. 

=Native dispositions. =--Society needs only a limited number of chemistsand only such as have the native tendencies that will make chemistrymost effective in the activities of society. But we have been proceedingupon the agreeable assumption that every pupil has such nativetendencies. Such an assumption absolves the school, of course, from thenecessity of discovering what pupils are susceptible to chemistry and ofdevising ways and means of making this important discovery. Because wedo not know how to make this discovery we find solace in the assumptionthat it cannot or need not be made. We then proceed to apply theProcrustean bed principle with the very acme of _sang froid_. Here iswork for the efficiency expert. When children are sitting at the tableof life, the home and the school in combination ought to be able todiscover what food they crave and not insist upon their eating oliveswhen they really crave oatmeal. 

=The ideal of the school. =--We shall not have attained to rightconditions until such time as the stream of life that issues from theschool shall combine the agencies, in right proportions and relations, that will conserve the best interests of society and administer itsactivities with the maximum of efficiency. This is the ideal that theschool must hold up before itself as the determining plan in its everymovement. But this ideal presupposes no misfits in society. If there aresuch, then it will decline in some degree from the plane of highestefficiency. If there are some members of society who are straining atthe leash which Nature provided for them and are trying to do work forwhich they have neither inclination nor aptitude, they cannot render thebest service, and society suffers in consequence. 

=Misfits. =--The books teem with examples of people who are striving tofind themselves by finding their work. But nothing has been said ofsociety in this same strain. We have only to think of society ascomposed of all the people to realize that only by finding its work cansociety find itself. And so long as there is even one member of societywho has not found himself, so long must we look upon this one exceptionas a discordant note in the general harmony. If one man is working atthe forge who by nature is fitted for a place at the desk, then neitherthis man nor society is at its best. And a large measure of theresponsibility for such discord and misfits in society must be laid atthe door of the school because of its inability to discover nativetendencies. 

=Common interests. =--There are many interests that all children have incommon when they enter the school in the morning, and these interestsmay well become the starting points in the day's work. The conversationsat breakfast tables and the morning paper beget and stimulate many ofthese interests and the school does violence to the children, thecommunity, and itself if it attempts to taboo these interests. Its workis to rectify and not to suppress. When the children return to theirhomes in the evening they should have clearer and larger conceptions ofthe things that animated them in the morning. If they come into theschool all aglow with interest in the great snowstorm of the nightbefore, the teacher does well to hold the lesson in decimals in abeyanceuntil she has led around to the subject by means of readings or storiesthat have to do with snowstorms. The paramount and common interest ofthe children in the morning is snow and, therefore, the day should holdsnow in the foreground in their thinking, so that, at the close of theday, their horizon in the snow-world may be extended, and so that theymay thus be able to make contributions to the home on the subject ofsnow. 

=Real interests. =--In the morning the pupils had objective snow in whichthey rollicked and gamboled in glee. All day long they had subjectivesnow in which the teacher with fine technique caused them to revel; and, in the evening, their concept of snow was so much enlarged that theyexperienced a fresh access of delight. And that day was their snowepiphany. On that day there was no break in the stream of life at theschoolhouse door. There was no supplanting of the real interests of themorning with fictitious interests of the school, to be endured with illgrace until the real interests of the morning could be resumed in theevening. On the contrary, by some magic that only the vitalized teacherknows, every exercise of the day seemed to have snow as its center. Snowseemed to be the major in the reading, in the spelling, in thegeography, and in the history. 

On that day they became acquainted with Hannibal and his strugglesthrough the snow of the Alps. On that day they learned of the avalanche, its origin, its devastating power, and, of course, its spelling. On thatday they read "Snow Bound" and the snow poems of Longfellow and Lowell. Thus the stream of life was clarified, rectified, and amplified as itpassed through the school, and, incidentally, the teacher and the schoolwere glorified in their thoughts. 

=Circus day. =--But snow is merely typical. On other days other interestsare paramount. On circus day the children, again, have a common interestwhich affords the teacher a supreme opportunity. The day has beenanticipated by the teacher, and the pupils have cause to wonder how andwhence she ever accumulated such a wealth of pictures of animal life. All day long they are regaled with a subjective menagerie, and when theyattend the circus in the evening they astonish their parents by theextent and accuracy of their information. They know the animals by name, their habitat, their habits, their food, and their uses. In short, theyseemed to have compassed a working knowledge of the animal kingdom in asingle day through the skill of the teacher who knows how to make theschool reënforce their life interests. 

=The quality of life. =--If we now extend the scope of common intereststhat belong in the category with the snow and the animals, we shallreadily see that the analogy of the filtration-plant holds good in theentire régime of the vitalized school. But we must never lose sight ofthe additional fact that the quality of life that issues from the schoolis far better because of its passage through the school. The volume maybe less, through unfortunate leakage, but the quality is so much betterthat its value to society is enhanced a hundred- or a thousand-fold. Thepeople who pass through the school have learned a common language, havebeen imbued with a common purpose, have learned how to live and work inhearty accord, have come to revere a common flag, and have becomecitizens of a common country. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. What is the general function of the school?

2. What is meant by the school's being the "melting-pot"?

3. What objection is there to the expression "getting an education"?What would be a better expression to indicate the purpose of attendingschool?

4. What diseases that invade society would be checked if in school thestream of life were rectified?

5. Why is it desirable that pupils shall not lose their individuality inpassing through school?

6. What is the primary purpose of each school study, for instance, language?

7. What is the true purpose of grammar?

8. What do these functions of the school and of its studies teach usregarding the adaptation of subjects and methods to the individual?

9. Tell something of the work done in vocational guidance in Boston. 

10. Tell something of the methods employed by some corporations inchoosing employees naturally fitted for the work. 

11. Tell something of the psychological tests for vocations devised byProfessor Münsterberg. (Psychology and Industrial Efficiency, HugoMünsterberg, Houghton Mifflin Co. , 1913. )

12. What do you think is the practicable way of helping the pupils inyour school to develop along the lines of their natural endowment?

13. What is the effect on society when a man does work for which he isnot fitted?

14. Show some ways in which the interests of the school as a whole maybe fostered and a natural development of the class as a whole besecured. 

15. There has been a big fire in town. Show how the interest in thisevent may be used in the day's work. 

16. In what ways is one who has had private instruction likely to be apoorer citizen than one who has attended school?

17. What conditions might cause some of those who go through school tobe polluted instead of rectified? Whose fault would it be?

18. What questions should we ask ourselves about the things that arebeing done in our schools?

CHAPTER XVIII

POETRY AND LIFE

=Poetry defined. =--Poetry has been defined as "a message from the heartof the artist to the heart of the man"; and, seeing that the heart isthe center and source of life, it follows that poetry is a means ofeffecting a transfusion of life. The poet ponders life long and deeplyand then gives forth an interpretation in artistic form that issurcharged with the very quintessence of life. The poet absorbs lifefrom a thousand sources--the sky, the forest, the mountain, the sunrise, the ocean, the storm, the child in the mother's arms, and the man at hiswork, and then transmits it that the recipient may have a new influx oflife. The poet's quest is life, his theme is life, and his gift to manis life. His mission is to gain a larger access of life and to give lifein greater abundance. He gains the meaning of life from the snowflakeand the avalanche; from the grain of sand and the fertile valley; fromthe raindrop and the sea; from the chirp of the cricket and the crashingof the thunder; from the firefly and the lightning's flash; and fromVesuvius and Sinai. To know life he listens to the baby's prattle, themother's lullaby, and the father's prayer; he looks upon faces that showjoy and sorrow, hope and despair, defeat and triumph; and he feels thepulsations of the tides, the hurricane, and the human heart. 

=How the poet learns life. =--He sits beside the bed of sickness andhears the feeble and broken words that tell of the past, the present, and the future; he visits the field of battle and sees the wreckage ofthe passions of men; he goes into the dungeon and hears the ravings andrevilings of a distorted soul; he visits pastoral scenes where peace andplenty unite in a song of praise; he rides the mighty ship and knows theheartbeats of the ocean; he sits within the church and opens the doorsof his soul to its holy influences; he enters the hovel whose squalorproclaims it the abode of ignorance and vice; he visits the home ofhappiness where industry and frugality pour forth their bounteous giftsand love sways its gentle scepter; and he sits at the feet of his motherand imbibes her gracious spirit. 

=Transfusion of life. =--And then he writes; and as he writes his pendrips life. He knows and feels, and, therefore, he expresses, and hiswords are the distillations of life. His spiritual percipience hasrendered his soul a veritable garden of emotions, and with his pen hetransplants these in the written page. And men see and come to pluck theflowers to transplant again in their own souls that they, too, may havea garden like unto his. His _élan_ carries over into the lives of thesemen and they glow with the ardor of his emotions and are inspired todeeds of courage, of service, and of solace. For every flower pluckedfrom his garden another grows in its stead more beautiful and morefragrant than its fellow, and he is reinspired as he inspires others. And thus in this transfusion of life there is an undertow that carriesback into his own life and makes his spirit more fertile. 

=Aspiration. =--When he would teach men to aspire he writes "Excelsior"and so causes them to know that only he who aspires really lives. Theysee the groundling, the boor, the drudge, and the clown content to dwellin the valley amid the loaves and fishes of animal desires, while theman who aspires is struggling toward the heights whence he may gain anoutlook upon the glories that are, know the throb and thrill of newlife, and experience the swing and sweep of spiritual impulses. He makesthem to know that the man who aspires recks not of cold, of storm, or ofsnow, if only he may reach the summit and lave his soul in the glorythat crowns the marriage of earth and sky. They feel that the aspirantis but yielding obedience to the behests of his better self to scale theheights where sublimity dwells. 

=Perseverance. =--Or he writes the fourth "Æneid" to make men feel thatthe palm of victory comes only to those who persevere to the end; thatduty does not abdicate in favor of inclination; and that the high godswill not hold guiltless the man who stops short of Italy to loiter anddally in Carthage even in the sunshine of a Dido's smile. When Italy iscalling, no siren song of pleasure must avail to lure him from hiscourse, nor must his sail be furled until the keel grates upon theItalian shore. His navigating skill must guide him through the perils ofScylla and Charybdis and the stout heart of manhood must bear him pastMount Ætna's fiery menace. His dauntless courage must brave the anger ofthe greedy waves and boldly ride them down. Nor must his cup of joy befull until the wished-for land shall greet his eager eyes. 

=Overweening ambition. =--Or, again, the poet may yearn to teach thewrong of overweening, vaulting ambition and he writes "Paradise Lost"and "Recessional. " He pictures Satan overthrown, like the Giants whowould climb into the throne on Olympus. He pictures Hell as the fittingplace for Satan overthrown, and in his own place he pictures the outcastand downcast Satan writhing and cursing because he was balked of hisunholy ambition. And, lest mortals sink from their high estate, bornedown by their sins of unsanctified ambition, he prays, and prays again, "Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, lest we forget, lest we forget. " Andthe prayer echoes and reëchoes in the soul of the man, and the worldsees his lips moving in the prayer of the poet, "Lest we forget, lest weforget. "

=Native land. =--Or, again, he writes Bannockburn and the spirit is firedwith patriotic devotion to native land. We hear the bagpipe and the drumand see the martial clans gathering in serried ranks and catch the glintof their arms and armor as they flash back the sunlight. We hear theirlusty calls as they rush together to defend the hills and the homes theylove. We see, again, the Wallace and the Bruce inciting valorous men todeeds of heroism and hear the hills reëchoing with the shock of steelupon steel. From hill to hill the pibroch leaps, and hearts and feetquicken at its sound. And mothers are pressing their bairns to theirbosoms as they cheer their loved ones away to the strife. And whiletheir eyes are weeping their hearts are saying:

 "Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha so base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee!"

=Faith. =--And after the sounds of battle are hushed he sings "To Mary inHeaven" and causes the man to stand in the presence of the Burning Bushand to hear the command "Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for theplace whereon thou standest is holy ground. " And the heart of the mangrows tender as the poet opens his eyes to catch a glimpse of the lifeof faith that the star foretells even as the Star of Bethlehem wasprophetic. And, through the eyes of the lover, he looks over into theother life and knows that his faith is not in vain. And when faith sitsenthroned, the music of the brook at his feet becomes sweeter, the starsshine more brightly, the earth becomes a place of gladness, and life isfar more worth while. The poet has caused the scales to fall from hiseyes and through them the light of Heaven has streamed into his soul. 

=The teacher's influx of life. =--And the teacher imbibes the spirit ofthe poet and becomes vital and thus becomes attuned to all life. Flowersspring up in her pathway because they are claiming kinship with theflowers that are blooming in her soul. The insect chirps forth itsmusic, and her own spirit joins in the chorus of the forest. Thebrooklet laughs as it ripples its way toward the sea, and her spiritlaughs in unison because the poet has poured his laughter into her soul. She stands unafraid in the presence of the storm because her feeling formajesty overmasters her apprehension of danger. The lightning's flashmay rend the oak but, even so, she stands in mute admiration at thiswondrous manifestation of life. Her quickened spirit responds to theroll and reverberation of the thunder because she has grown to womanhoodthrough the poet's copious draughts of life. 

=The book of life. =--The voices of the night enchant her and the starstake her into their counsels. The swaying tree speaks her languagebecause both speak the language of life. She takes delight in thelexicon of the planets because it interprets to her the book of life, and in the revelations of this book she finds her chief joy. For herthere are no dull moments whether she wanders by the river, through theglades, or over the hills, because she is ever turning the pages of thisbook. She moves among the things of life and accounts them all herfriends and companions. She knows their moods and their language andwith them holds intimate communion. They smile upon her because she canreciprocate their smiles. Life to her is a buoyant, a joyous experienceeach hour of the day because the poet has poured into her spirit itsfuller, deeper meanings. 

=The teaching. =--And because the poet has touched her spirit with thewand of his power the waters of life gush forth in sparkling abundance. And children come to the fountain of her life and drink of its watersand are thereby refreshed and invigorated. Then they smile back theirgratitude to her in their exuberance of joyous life. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. What is poetry?

2. What is the purpose of rhyme?

3. May writing have the essentials of poetry and yet have no regularrhythm? What of the Psalms?

4. Why is poetry especially valuable to the teacher?

5. Show how some poem other than those mentioned in the chapter teachesa lesson or gives an inspiration. 

6. Name, if you can, some methods of treatment that cause poetry to failto affect the lives of the pupils as it should. 

7. Suggest uses of poetry and the treatment that will insure the rightresults. 

8. Is there danger that a teacher may become too appreciative orsusceptible--too poetic in temperament? Recall observations of those whowere either too much so or too little. 

9. Is there danger that one may have too much of a good quality, or isthe danger not in having too little of some other quality?

10. Show how a wide and appreciative reading of poetry makes for aproper balance of temperament. 

CHAPTER XIX

A SENSE OF HUMOR

=An American story. =--There is a story to the effect that a certain Mr. Jones was much given to boasting of his early rising. He stoutlymaintained that he was going about his work every morning at threeo'clock. Some of his friends were inclined to be incredulous as to hisrepresentations and entered into a kindly conspiracy to put them to thetest. Accordingly one of the number presented himself at the kitchendoor of the Jones residence one morning at half-past three and madeinquiry of Mrs. Jones as to the whereabouts of her husband, asking if hewas at home. In a very gracious manner Mrs. Jones replied: "No, he isn'there now. He was around here early this morning but I don't really knowwhere he is now. " This is a clean, fine, typical American story, and, bymeans of such a story, we can test for a sense of humor. The boy inschool will laugh at this story both because it is a good one andbecause he is a normal boy. If he does not laugh at such a story, thereis cause for anxiety as to his mental condition or attitude. If theteacher cannot or does not laugh, a disharmony is generated at oncebetween teacher and pupil which militates against the well-being of theschool. If the teacher reprimands the boy, the boy as certainlydiscredits the teacher and all that she represents. If she cannot enjoysuch a wholesome story, he feels that her arithmetic, geography, andgrammar are responsible, and these studies decline somewhat in hisesteem. Moreover, he feels that the teacher's reprimand was unwarrantedand unjust and he fain would consort with people of his own kind. Many aboy deserts school because the teacher is devoid of the saving grace ofhumor. Her inability to see or have any fun in life makes himuncomfortable and he seeks a more agreeable environment. 

=Humor in its manifestations. =--A sense of humor diffuses itself throughall the activities of life, giving to them all a gentle quality thateliminates asperities and renders them gracious and amiable. Likefireflies that bespangle the darkness of the night, humor scintillatesthrough all life's phases and activities and causes the day to go morepleasantly and effectively on. It twinkles through the thoughts andgives to language a sparkle and a nicety that cause it to appeal to theartistic sense. It gives to discourse a piquancy that stimulates butdoes not irritate. It is the flavor that gives to speech its undulatoryquality, and redeems it from desert sameness. It pervades the motivesand gives direction as well as a pleasing fertility to all behavior. Itis pervasive without becoming obtrusive. It steals into the senses asquietly as the dawn and causes life to smile. Wit may flash, but humorblithely glides into the consciousness with a radiant and kindly smileupon its face. Wit may sting and inflame, but humor soothes andcomforts. The man who has a generous admixture of humor in his nature isan agreeable companion and a sympathetic friend to grown-up people, tochildren, and to animals. His spirit is genial, and people become kindlyand magnanimous in his presence. 

=One of John B. Gough's stories. =--The celebrated John B. Gough was wontto tell a story that was accounted one of his many masterpieces. It wasa story of a free-for-all convention where any one, according toinclination, had the privilege of freely speaking his sentiments. Whenthe first speaker had concluded, a man in the audience called lustilyfor a speech from Mr. Henry. Then another spoke, and, again, morelustily than before, the man demanded Mr. Henry. More and morevociferous grew the call for Mr. Henry after each succeeding speechuntil, at last, the chairman with some acrimony exclaimed: "The man whois calling for Mr. Henry will please be quiet. It is Mr. Henry who isnow speaking. " The man thus rebuked was somewhat crestfallen, butmanaged to say, as if in a half-soliloquy: "Mr. Henry! Why, that ain'tMr. Henry. That's the little chap that told me to holler. "

At the conclusion of one of his lectures in which Mr. Gough told thisstory in his inimitable style, a man came to the platform and explainedto him that he had a friend who seemed to lack a sense of humor andwondered if he might not prevail upon Mr. Gough to tell him thisparticular story in the hope that it would cause him to laugh. In aspirit of adventure Mr. Gough consented, and at the time appointed toldthe story to the old gentleman in his own best style. The old gentlemanseemed to be deeply interested, but at the conclusion of the story, instead of laughing heartily as his friend had hoped, he solemnly asked, "What did he tell him to holler fur?"

=The man who lacks a sense of humor. =--There was no answer to thisquestion, or, rather, he himself was the answer. Such a man is obviouslyoutside the pale, without hope of redemption. If such a story, told bysuch a _raconteur_, could not touch him, he is hopeless. In hisspiritual landscape there are no undulations, but it reveals itself as amonotonous dead-level without stream or verdure. He eats, and sleeps, and walks about, but he walks in a spiritual daze. To him life must seema somber, drab affair. If he were a teacher in a traditional school, hewould chill and depress, but he might be tolerated because a sense ofhumor is not one of the qualifications of the teacher. But, in thevitalized school, he would be intolerable. If children should go to sucha teacher for spiritual refreshment, they would return thirsty. He hasnothing to give them, no bubbling water of life, no geniality, no suchgraces of the spirit as appeal to buoyant childhood. He lacks a sense ofhumor, and that lack makes arid the exuberant sources of life. He maysolve problems in arithmetic, but he cannot compass the solution of theproblem of life. The children pity him, and no greater calamity canbefall a teacher than to deserve and receive the pity of a child. Hemight, in a way, teach anatomy, but not physiology. He might be able todeal with the analytic. He might succeed as curator in a museum ofmummies, but he will fail as a teacher of children. 

=Story of a boy. =--A seven-year-old boy who was lying on his back on thefloor asked his father the question, "How long since the world wasborn?" The father replied, "Oh, about four thousand years. " In a fewmoments the child said in a tone of finality, "That isn't very long. "Then after another interval, he asked, "What was there before the worldwas born?" To this the father replied, "Nothing. " After a lapse of twoor three minutes the child gave vent to uncontrollable laughter whichresounded throughout the house. When, at length, the father asked himwhat he was laughing at, he could scarcely control his laughter toanswer. But at last he managed to reply, "I was laughing to see howfunny it was when there wasn't anything. "

=The child's imagination. =--The philosopher could well afford to givethe half of his kingdom to be able to see what that child saw. Out ofthe gossamer threads of fancy his imagination had wrought a pattern thattranscends philosophy. The picture that his imagination painted was soextraordinary that it produced a paroxysm of laughter. That picture isfar beyond the ken of the philosopher and he will look for it in vainbecause he has grown away from the child in power of imagination and haslost the child's sense of humor. What that child saw will never beknown, for the pictures of fancy are ephemeral, but certain it is thatthe power of imagination and a keen sense of humor are two of theattributes of childhood whose loss should give both his father and histeacher poignant regrets. 

=The little girl and her elders. =--The little girl upon the beachinvests the tiny wavelets not only with life and intelligence, but, also, with a sense of humor as she eludes their sly advances to engulfher feet. She laughs in glee at their watery pranks as they twinkle andsparkle, now advancing, now receding, trying to take her by surprise. She chides them for their duplicity, then extols them for their prankishplayfulness. She makes them her companions, and they laugh in chorus. Ifshe knows of sprites, and gnomes, and nymphs, and fairies, she findsthem all dancing in glee at her feet in the form of rippling wavelets. And while she is thus refreshing her spirit from the brimming cup oflife, her matter-of-fact elders are reproaching her for getting herdress soiled. To the parent or the teacher who lacks a sense of humorand cannot enter into the little girl's conception of life, a dress isof more importance than the spirit of the child. But the teacher or theparent who has the "aptitude for vicariousness" that enables her toenter into the child's life in her fun and frolic with the playfulwater, and can feel the presence of the nymphs among the wavelets, --sucha teacher or parent will adorn the school or the home and endear herselfto the child. 

=Lincoln's humor. =--The life of Abraham Lincoln affords a notableillustration of the saving power of humor. Reared in conditions ofhardship, his early life was essentially drab and prosaic. Intemperament he was serious, with an inclination toward the morbid, buthis sense of humor redeemed the situation. When clouds of gloom anddiscouragement lowered in his mental sky, his keen sense of humorpenetrated the darkness and illumined his pathway. He was sometimes theobject of derision because men could not comprehend the depth andbigness of his nature, and his humor was often accounted a weakness. Butthe Gettysburg speech rendered further derision impossible and thewondrous alchemy of that address transmuted criticism into willingpraise. 

=Humor betokens deep feeling. =--Laughter and tears issue from the samesource, we are told, and the Gettysburg speech revealed a depth and aquality of tenderness that men had not, before, been able to recognizeor appreciate. The absence of a sense of humor betokens shallowness inthat it reveals an inability to feel deeply. People who feel deeplyoften laugh in order to forestall tears. Lincoln was a great soul andhis sense of humor was one element of his greatness. His apt stories andhis humorous personal experiences often carried off a situation wherecold logic would have failed. Whether his sense of humor was a gift oran acquisition, it certainly served the nation well and gave to us allan example that is worthy of emulation. 

=The teacher of English. =--Many teachers could, with profit tothemselves and their schools, sit at the feet of Abraham Lincoln, notonly to learn English but also to imbibe his sense of humor. Nothing ismore pathetic than the efforts of a teacher who lacks a sense of humorto teach a bit of English that abounds in humor, by means of the textualnotes. The notes are bad enough, in all conscience, but the teacher'slack of humor piles Ossa upon Pelion. The solemnity that pervades suchmechanical teaching would be farcical were it not so pathetic. Theteacher who cannot indulge in a hearty, honest, ringing laugh with herpupils in situations that are really humorous is certain to be laughedat by her pupils. In her work, as in Lincoln's, a sense of humor willoften save the day. 

=Mark Twain as philosopher. =--Mark Twain will ever be accounted a veryprince of humorists, and so he was. But he was more than that. Upon thecurrent of his humor were carried precious cargoes of the philosophy oflife. His humor is often so subtle that the superficial reader fails toappreciate its fine quality and misses the philosophy altogether. Toextract the full meaning from his writing one must be able to read notonly between the lines but also beneath the lines. The subtle quality ofhis humor defies both analysis and explanation. If it fails to tell itsown story, so much the worse for the reader. To such humor as his, explanation amounts to an impertinence. People can either appreciate itor else they cannot, and there's the end of the matter. 

In the good time to come when the school teaches reading for the purposeof pleasure and not for examination purposes, we shall have Mark Twainas one of our authors; and it is to be hoped that we shall have editionsdevoid of notes. The notes may serve to give the name of the editor aplace on the title page, but the notes cannot add to the enjoyment ofthe author's genial humor. Mark Twain reigns supreme, and the editordoes well to stand uncovered in his presence and to withhold his pen. 

=A Twain story. =--One of Mark Twain's stories is said to be one of themost humorous stories extant. The story relates how a soldier wasrushing off the battlefield in retreat when a companion, whose leg wasshattered, begged to be carried off the field. The appeal met a willingresponse and soon the soldier was bearing his companion away on hisshoulder, his head hanging down the soldier's back. Unknown to thesoldier a cannon ball carried away the head of his companion. Accostedby another soldier, he was asked why he was carrying a man whose headhad been shot away. He stoutly denied the allegation and, at length, dropped the headless body to prove the other's hallucination. Seeingthat the man's head was, in truth, gone, he exclaimed, "Why, the durnfool told me it was his leg. "

=Humor defies explanation. =--The humor of this story is cumulative. Wemay not parse it, we may not analyze it, we may not annotate it. We cansimply enjoy it. And, if we cannot enjoy it, we may pray for a spiritualawakening, for such an endowment of the sense of humor as will enable usto enjoy, that we may no longer lead lives that are spiritually blind. Bill Nye wrote:

 "The autumn leaves are falling, They are falling everywhere; They are falling through the atmosphere And likewise through the air. "

Woe betide the teacher who tries to explain! There is noexplanation--there is just the humor. If that eludes the reader, anexplanation will not avail. 

A teacher of Latin read to his pupils "The House-Boat on the Styx" inconnection with their reading of the "Æneid. " It was good fun for themall, and never was Virgil more highly honored than in the assiduousstudy which those young people gave to his lines. They were eager tocomplete the study of the lesson in order to have more time for the"House-Boat. " The humor of the book opened wide the gates of theirspirits through which the truths of the regular lesson passed blithelyin. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. What is the source of humor in a humorous story?

2. When should the teacher laugh with the school? When should she not doso?

3. How does the response of the school to a laughable incident reflectthe leadership of the teacher?

4. What can be done to bring more or better humor into the school?

5. Compare as companions those whom you know who exhibit a sense ofhumor with those who do not. 

6. Compare their influence on others. 

7. What can be done to bring humor into essays written by the students?

8. Distinguish between wit and humor. Does wit or humor cause most ofthe laughter in school?

9. What is meant by an "aptitude for vicariousness"?

10. How did Lincoln make use of humor? Is there any humor in theGettysburg speech? Why?

11. What is the relation of pathos to humor?

12. Give an example from the writings of Mark Twain that shows him aphilosopher as well as a humorist. 

13. What books could you read to the pupils to enliven some of thesubjects that you teach?

CHAPTER XX

The Element of Human Interest

=Yearning toward betterment. =--Much has been said and written in recenttimes touching the matter and manner of vitalizing and humanizing thestudies and work of the school. The discussions have been nation-wide intheir scope and most fertile in plans and practical suggestions. Nosubject of greater importance or of more far-reaching import now engagesthe interest of educational leaders. They are quite aware that somethingneeds to be done, but no one has announced the sovereign remedy. Thecritics have made much of the fact that there is something lacking orwrong in our school procedure, but they can neither diagnose the casenor suggest the remedy. They can merely criticize. We are having manysurveys, but the results have been meager and inadequate. We have beenworking at the circumference of the circle rather than at the center. Wehave been striving to reform our educational training, hoping for areflex that would be sufficient to modify the entire school régime. Wehave added domestic science, hoping thereby to reconstruct the school byinoculation. We have looked to agriculture and other vocational studiesas the magnetic influences of our dreams. Something has beenaccomplished, to be sure, but we are still far distant from the goal. The best that writers can do in their books or educational conferencescan do in their meetings, is to report progress. 

=The obstacle of conservatism. =--One of the greatest obstacles we haveto surmount in this whole matter of vitalizing school work is thehabitual conservatism of the school people themselves. The methods ofteaching that obtained in the school when we were pupils have groovedthemselves into habits of thinking that smile defiance at the theoriesthat we have more recently acquired. When we venture out from the shorewe want to feel a rope in our hands. The superintendent speaks ferventlyto patrons or teachers on the subject of modern methods in teaching, then retires to his office and takes intimate and friendly counsel withtradition. In sailing the educational seas he must needs keep in sightthe buoys of tradition. This matter of conservatism is cited merely toshow that our progress, in the very nature of the case, will be slow. 

=Schools of education. =--Another obstacle in the way of progress towardthe vitalized school is the attitude and teaching of many who areconnected with colleges of education and normal schools. We have a rightto look to them for leadership, but we find, instead, that theirpractices lag far in the rear of their theories. They teach according tosuch devitalized methods and in such an unvitalized way as to discreditthe subjects they teach. It is only from such of their students as areproof against their style of teaching that we may hope for aid. One suchteacher in a college of education in a course of eight weeks on thesubject of School Administration had his students copy figures fromstatistical reports for several days in succession and for four and fivehours each day. The students confessed that their only objective was thegaining of credits, and had no intimation that the work they were doingwas to function anywhere. 

=The machine teacher. =--Such work is deadening and disheartening. It hasin it no inspiration, no life, nothing, in short, that connects withreal life. Such a teacher could not maintain himself in a wide-awakehigh school for a half year. The boys and girls would desert him even ifthey had to desert the school. And yet teachers and prospective teachersmust endure and not complain. Those who submit supinely will attempt torepeat in their schools the sort of teaching that obtains in hisclasses, and their schools will suffer accordingly. His sort of teachingproclaims him either more or less than a human being in the estimationof normal people. Such a teacher drones forth weary platitudes as if hisutterances were oracular. The only prerequisite for a position in someschools of education seems to be a degree of a certain altitude withoutany reference to real teaching ability. 

=Statistics versus children. =--Such teaching palliates educationalsituations without affording a solution. It is so steeped in traditionthat it resorts to statistics as it would consult an oracle. We look tosee it establishing precedents only to find it following precedents. When we would find in it a leader we find merely a follower. To suchteaching statistical numbers mean far more than living children. Indeed, children are but objects that become useful as a means of provingtheories. It lacks vitality, and that is sad; but, worst of all, itstrives unceasingly to perpetuate itself in the schools. Real teachingpower receives looks askance in some of these colleges as if it bore themark of Cain in not being up to standard on the academic side. And yetthese colleges are teaching the teachers of our schools. 

=Teaching power. =--Hence, the work of vitalizing the school must beginin our colleges of education and normal schools, and this beginning willbe made only when we place the emphasis upon teaching power. The humanqualities of the teachers must be so pronounced that they become theirmost distinguished characteristics. It is a sad commentary upon oureducational processes if a man must point to the letters of his degreeto prove that he is a teacher. His teaching should be of such a natureas to justify and glorify his degree. As the preacher receives hisdegree because he can preach, so the teacher should receive his degreebecause he can teach, even if we must create a new degree by which todesignate the real teacher. 

=Degrees and human qualities. =--There is no disparagement of theacademic degree in the statement that it proves absolutely nothingtouching the ability to teach. It proclaims its possessor a student butnot a teacher. Yet, in our practices, we proceed upon the assumptionthat teacher and student are synonymous. We hold examinations forteachers in our schools, but not for teachers in our colleges ofeducation. His degree is the magic talisman that causes the doors toswing wide open for him. Besides, his very presence inside seems to beprima facie evidence that he is a success, and all his students aresupposed to join in the general chorus of praise. 

=Life the great human interest. =--The books are eloquent and persistentin their admonitions that we should attach all school work to the nativeinterests of the child. To this dictum there seems to be universal andhearty assent. But we do not seem to realize fully, as yet, that the bignative interest of the child is life itself. We have not, as yet, foundthe way to enmesh the activities of the school in the life processes ofthe child so that these school activities are as much a part of his lifeas his food, his games, his breathing, and his sleep. We have beeninterpreting some of the manifestations of life as his native interestsbut have failed thus to interpret his life as a whole. The child is butthe aggregate of all his inherent interests, and we must know theseinterests if we would find the child so as to attach school work to thechild himself. 

=The child as a whole. =--Here is the crux of the entire matter, here thebig problem for the vitalized school. We have been taking his pulse, testing his eyes, taking his temperature, and making examinations fordefects--and these things are excellent. But all these things combineddo not reveal the child to us. We need to go beyond all these in orderto find him. We must know what he thinks, how he feels as to people andthings, what his aspirations are, what motives impel him to action, whatare his intuitions, what things he does involuntarily and what throughvolition or compulsion. With such data clearly before us we can proceedto attach school work to his native interests. We have been striving tobend him to our preconceived notion instead of finding out who and whathe is as a condition precedent to intelligent teaching. 

=Three types of teachers. =--The three types of teachers that have beenmuch exploited in the books are the teacher who conceives it to be herwork to teach the book, the one who teaches the subject, and the one whoteaches the child. The number of the first type is still very large inspite of all the books that inveigh against this conception. It wereeasy to find a teacher whose practice indicates that she thinks that allthe arithmetic there is or ought to be is to be found in the book thatlies on her desk. It seems not to occur to her that a score of booksmight be written that would be equal in merit to the one she is using, some of which might be far better adapted to the children in herparticular school. If she were asked to teach arithmetic without the aidof a book, she would shed copious tears, if, indeed, she did not resign. 

=The first type. =--To such a teacher the book is the Ultima Thule of allher endeavors, and when the pupils can pass the examination she feelsthat her work is a success. If the problem in the book does not fit thechild, so much the worse for the child, and she proceeds to try to makehim fit the problem. It does not occur to her to construct problems thatwill fit the child. When she comes to the solution of the righttriangle, the baseball diamond does not come to her mind. She has theboy learn a rule and try to apply it instead of having him find thedistance from first base to third in a direct line. In her thinking sucha proceeding would be banal because it would violate the sanctity of thebook. She must adhere to the book though the heavens fall, and the boywith them. 

=The book supreme. =--She seems quite unable to draw upon the farm, thegrocery, the store, or the playground for suitable problems. Thesethings seem to be obscured by her supreme devotion to the book. Shelacks fertility of resources, nor does she realize this lack, becauseher eyes are fastened upon the book rather than upon the child. Were sheas intent upon the child as she is upon the book, his interests woulddirect attention to the things toward which his inclinations yearn andtoward which his aptitudes lure him. In such a case, her ingenuity andresourcefulness would roam over wide fields in quest of the objects ofhis native interests and she would return to him laden with materialthat would fit the needs of the child far better than the material ofthe book. 

=The child supreme. =--The teacher whose primary consideration is thechild and who sees in the child the object and focus of all heractivities, never makes a fetish of the book. It has its use, to besure, but it is subordinate in the scheme of education. It is not anecessity, but a mere convenience. She could dispense with it entirelyand not do violence to the child's interests. No book is large enough tocompass all that she teaches, for she forages in every field to obtainproper and palatable food for the child. She teaches with the grain ofthe child and not against the grain. If the book contains what sherequires in her work, she uses it and is glad to have it; but, if itdoes not contain what she needs, she seeks it elsewhere and does notreturn empty-handed. 

=Illustrations. =--She places the truth she hopes to teach in the path ofthe child's inclination, and this is taken into his life processes. Lifedoes not stop at way-stations to take on supplies, but absorbs thesupplies that it encounters as it moves along. This teacher does notstop the ball game to teach the right triangle, but manages to have theproblem solved in connection with or as a part of the game. She does nottaboo the morning paper in order to have a lesson in history, but beginswith the paper as a favorable starting point toward the lesson. She doesnot confiscate the contents of the boy's pocket as contraband, but isglad to avail herself of all these as indices of the boy's interests, and, therefore, guides for her teaching. 

=Attitude toward teaching materials. =--When the boy carries a toad toschool, she does not shudder, but rather rejoices, because she sees inhim a possible Agassiz. When he displays an interest in plant life, shesees in him another Burbank. When she finds him drawing pictures at hisdesk, she smiles approval, for she sees in him another Raphael. She doesnot disdain the lowliest insect, reptile, or plant when she finds itwithin the circle of the child's interests. She is willing, nay eager, to ransack the universe if only she may come upon elements of nutritionfor her pupils. From every flower that blooms she gathers honey that shemay distill it into the life of the child. She does not coddle thechild; she gives him nourishment. 

=History. =--Her history is as wide as human thought and as high as humanaspiration. It includes the Rosetta stone and the morning paper. Ittravels back from the clothing of the child to the cotton gin. Thestitch in the little girl's dress is the index finger that points to thepage that depicts the invention of the sewing machine. Every engineleads her back to Watt, and she takes the children with her. Everyforeign message in the daily paper revives the story of Field and thelaying of the Atlantic cable. Every mention of the President's cabinetgives occasion for reviewing the cabinets of other Presidents withcomparisons and contrasts. At her magic touch the libraries andgalleries yield forth rich treasures for her classroom. Life is thetextbook of her study, and the life of the child is the goal of herendeavors. 

=The child's native interests. =--In brief, she is teaching children andnot books or subjects, and the interests of the children take emphaticprecedence over her own. She enters into the life of the child and makesexcursions into all life according to the dictates of his interests. Thechild is the big native interest to which she attaches the work of theschool. The program is elastic enough to encompass every child in herschool. Her program is a garden in which something is growing for eachchild, and she cultivates every plant with sympathetic care. Sheconsiders it no hardship to learn the plant, the animal, the place, orthe fact in which the child finds interest. Because of the child and forthe sake of the child she invests all these things with the quality ofhuman interest. 

=The school and the home. =--Arithmetic, language, history, and geographytouch life at a thousand points, and we have but to select the points ofcontact with the life of each pupil to render any or all of these avital part of the day's work and the day's life. They are not thingsthat are detached from the child's life. The child's errand to the shopinvolves arithmetic, and the vitalized teacher makes this fact a part ofthe working capital of the school. The dinner table abounds ingeography, and the teacher is quick to turn this fact to account in theschool. Her fertility of resources, coupled with her vital interest inhuman beings and human affairs, soon establishes a reciprocal relationbetween the home and the school. Similarly, she causes the language ofthe school to flow out into the home, the factory, and the office. 

=The skill of the teacher. =--History is not a school affair merely. Itis a life affair, and through all the currents of life it may be made toflow. The languages, Latin, German, French, Spanish, are expressions andinterpretations of life, and they may be made to appear what they reallyare if the teacher is resourceful enough and skillful enough to attachthem to the life of the pupil by the human ligaments that are ever athand. Chemistry, physics, botany, and physiology all throb with life ifonly the teacher can place the fingers of the pupils on their pulses. Given the human teacher, the human child, and the humanized teaching, the vitalized school is inevitable. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. What agencies have been employed with the expectation that they wouldimprove the school?

2. What are the reasons why some of these have not accomplished more?

3. Give instances in which the conservatism of teachers seems to havestood in the way of utilizing the element of human interest. 

4. What do you think of a teacher who asserts that no important advancehas been made in educational theory and practice since, say, 1910?

5. Make an outline of what you think a college of education should dofor the school. 

6. What would you expect to gain from a course in school administration?

7. The president of at least one Ohio college personally inspects andchecks up the work of the professors from the standpoint of properteaching standards, and has them visit one another's classes forfriendly criticism and observation. He reports improvement in thestandard of teaching. How is his plan applicable in your school?

8. A city high school principal states that it is not his custom tovisit his teachers' classes; that he knows what is going on and that heinterferes only if something is wrong. What do you think of hispractice? How is the principle applicable in your school?

9. Do the duties of a superintendent have to do only with curriculum anddiscipline, or have they to do also with teaching power?

10. What are some of the ways in which you have known superintendentssuccessfully to increase the teaching power of the teachers?

11. What things do we need to know about a child in order to utilize hisinterests?

12. Distinguish three types of teachers. 

13. What are the objections to teaching the book?

14. What are the objections to teaching the subject?

15. What are some items of school work upon which some teachers spendtime that they should devote to finding materials suited to the child'sinterests?

16. Can one teacher utilize all of the interests of a child within anine-month term? What is the measure of how far she should be expectedto do so?

CHAPTER XXI

BEHAVIOR

=Behavior in retrospect. =--The caption of this chapter implies thebehavior of human beings, as a matter of course, and the study of thissubject is, at once, both alluring and illusive. No sooner has thestudent arrived at deductions that seem conclusive than exceptions beginto loom up on his speculative horizon that disintegrate his theories andcause him to retrace the steps of his reasoning. Such a study affordslarge scope for introspection, but too few people incline to examinetheir own behavior in any mental attitude that approaches thescientific. The others seem to think that things just happen, and thattheir own behavior is fortuitous. They seem not to be able to reasonfrom effect back to cause, or to realize that there may be any possibleconnection between what they are doing at the present moment and whatthey were doing twenty years ago. 

=Environment. =--In what measure is a man the product of his environment?To what extent is a man able to influence his environment? Thesequestions start us on a line of inquiry that leads toward the realm of, at least, a hypothetical solution of the problem of behavior. After wehave reached the conclusion, by means of concrete examples, that manymen have influenced their environment, it becomes pertinent, at once, toinquire still further whence these men derived the power thus to modifytheir environment. We may not be able to reach final or satisfactoryanswers to these questions, but it will, none the less, prove aprofitable exercise. We need not trench upon the theological doctrine ofpredestination, but we may, with impunity, speculate upon thepossibility of a doctrine of educational predestination. 

=Queries. =--Was Mr. George Goethals predestined to become the engineerof the Panama Canal from the foundation of the world, or might he havebecome a farmer, a physician, or a poet? Could Julius Cæsar have turnedback from the Rubicon and refrained from saying, "The die is cast"?Could Abraham Lincoln have withheld his pen from the EmancipationProclamation and permitted the negro race to continue in slavery? Couldany influence have deterred Walter Scott from writing "Kenilworth"? WasRobert Fulton's invention of the steamboat inevitable? Could ChristopherColumbus possibly have done otherwise than discover America? Doeseducation have anything whatever to do in determining what a man will orwill not do?

=Antecedent causes. =--Here sits a man, let us say, who is writing amusical selection. He works in a veritable frenzy, and all else seemsnegligible for the time. He well-nigh disdains food and sleep in theintensity of his interest. Is this particular episode in his life merelyhappening, or does some causative influence lie back of this eventsomewhere in the years? Did some influence of home, or school, orplayground give him an impulse and an impetus toward this event? Or, inother words, are the activities of his earlier life functioning on thebit of paper before him? If this is an effect, what and where was thecause? In the case of any type of human behavior can we postulateantecedent causes? If a hundred musicians were writing musicalcompositions at the same moment, would they offer similar explanationsof their behavior?

=Leadership. =--As a working hypothesis, it may be averred that abilityto influence environment betokens leadership. With such a measuring-rodin hand we may go out into the community and determine, with some degreeof accuracy, who are leaders and who are mere followers. Then we shouldneed to go further and discover degrees of leadership, whether small orlarge, and, also, the quality of the leadership, whether good or bad, wise or foolish, selfish or altruistic, noisy or serene, and all themany other variations. Having done all this, we are still only on thethreshold of our study, for we must reason back from our accumulatedfacts to their antecedent causes. If we score one man's leadership fiftyand another's eighty, have we any possible warrant for concluding thatthe influences in their early life that tend to generate leadership wereapproximately as five to eight?

=Restricted concepts. =--This question is certain to encounterincredulity, just as it is certain to raise other questions. Bothresults will be gratifying as showing an awakening of interest, which isthe most and the best that the present discussion can possibly hope toaccomplish. Very many, perhaps most, teachers in the traditional schooldo their teaching with reference to the next examination. They remindtheir pupils daily of the on-coming examination and remind them of thedire consequences following their failure to attain the passing grade ofseventy. They ask what answer the pupil would give to a certain questionif it should appear in the examination. If they can somehow get theirpupils to surmount that barrier of seventy at promotion time, they seemquite willing to turn their backs upon them and let the teacher in thenext grade make what she can of such unprofitable baggage. 

=Each lesson a prophecy. =--And we still call this education. It isn'teducation at all, but the merest hack work, and the tragedy of it isthat the child is the one to suffer. The teacher goes on her complacentway happy in the consciousness that her pupils were promoted and, therefore, she will retain her place on the pay roll. It were morelogical to have the same teacher continue with the pupil during hisentire school life of twelve years, for, in that case, her interest inhim would be continuous rather than temporary and spasmodic. But thepresent plan of changing teachers would be even better than that if onlyevery teacher's work could be made to project itself not only tograduation day, but to the days of mature manhood and womanhood. If onlyevery teacher were able to make each lesson a vital prophecy of what thepupil is to be and to do twenty years hence, then that lesson wouldbecome a condition precedent to the pupil's future behavior. 

=Outlook. =--Groping about in the twilight of possibilities we speculatein a mild and superficial way as to the extent to which heredity, environment, and education either singly or in combination aredetermining factors in human behavior. But when no definite answer isforthcoming we lose interest in the subject and have recourse to thetraditional methods of our grandfathers. We lose sight of the fact thatin our quest for the solution of this problem we are coming nearer andnearer to the answer to the perennial question, What is education?Hence, neither the time nor the effort is wasted that we devote to thisstudy. We may not understand heredity; we may find ourselves bewilderedby environment; we may not apprehend what education is; but by keepingall these closely associated with behavior in our thinking we shall bethe gainers. 

=Long division ramified. =--We are admonished so to organize theactivities of the school that they may function in behavior. That is anadmonition of stupendous import as we discover when we attempt tocompass the content of behavior. One of the activities of the school isLong Division. This is relatively simple, but the possible behavior inwhich it may function is far less simple. In the past, this same LongDivision has functioned in the Brooklyn Bridge, in the Hoosac Tunnel, and Washington Monument, in the Simplon Pass, and in Eiffel Tower. Ithas helped us to travel up the mountain side on funicular railways, underneath rivers and cities by means of subways, under the ocean insubmarines, and in the air by means of aircraft, and over the tops ofcities on elevated railways. Only the prophet would have the temerity topredict what further achievements the future holds in store. But allthat has been done and all that will yet be done are only a part of thebehavior in which this activity functions. 

=Behavior amplified. =--Human behavior runs the entire gamut, from thebestial to the sublime, with all the gradations between. It has to dowith the mean thief who pilfers the petty treasures of the little child, and with the high-minded philanthropist who walks and works in obedienceto the behests of altruism. It includes the frowzy slattern who offendsthe sight and also the high-born lady of quality whose presence exhalesand, therefore, inspires to, refinement and grace. It has to do with thecoarse boor who defiles with his person and his speech and the courtly, cultured gentleman who becomes the exemplar of those who come under hisinfluence. It touches the depraved gamin of the alley and the celebratedscholar whose pen and voice shed light and comfort. It concerns itselfwith the dark lurking places of the prowlers of the night who prey uponinnocence, virtue, and prosperity and with the cultured home whosemembers make and glorify civilization. 

=Its scope. =--It swings through the mighty arc, from the anarchistplotting devastation and death up to Socrates inciting his friends togood courage as he drinks the hemlock. It takes cognizance of the slavein his cabin no less than of Lincoln in his act of setting the slavesfree. It touches the extremes in Mrs. Grundy and Clara Barton. Itconcerns itself with Medea scattering the limbs of her murdered brotheralong the way to delay her pursuers and with Antigone performing therites of burial over the body of her brother that his soul might liveforever. It has to do with Circe, who transformed men into pigs, andwith Frances Willard, who sought to restore lost manhood. It includesall that pertains to Lucrezia Borgia and Mary Magdalene; Nero andPhillips Brooks; John Wilkes Booth and Nathan Hale; Becky Sharp andEvangeline; Goneril and Cordelia; and Benedict Arnold and GeorgeWashington. 

=Behavior in history. =--Before the teacher can win a starting-point inher efforts to organize the activities of her school in such a mannerthat they may function in behavior, she must have a pretty clear notionas to what behavior really is. To gain this comprehensive notion shemust review in her thinking the events that make up history. In thepresence of each one of these events she must realize that this is thebehavior in which antecedent activities functioned. Then she will befree to speculate upon the character of those activities, whatmodifications, accretions, or abrasions they experienced in passing fromthe place of their origin to the event before her, and whether likeactivities in another place or another age would function in a similarevent. She need not be discouraged if she finds no adequate answer, forshe will be the better teacher because of the speculation, even lackinga definite answer. 

=Machinery. =--She must challenge every piece of machinery that meets hergaze with the question "Whence camest thou?" She knows, in a vague way, that it is the product of mind, but she needs to know more. She needs toknow that the machine upon which she is looking did not merely happen, but that it has a history as fascinating as any romance if only shecause it to give forth a revelation of itself. She may find in tracingthe evolution of the plow that the original was the forefinger of somecave man, in the remote past. For a certainty, she will find, lurkingin some machine, in some form, the multiplication table, and this factwill form an interesting nexus between behavior in the form of themachine and the activities of the school. She will be delighted to learnthat no machine was ever constructed without the aid of themultiplication table, and when she is teaching this table thereafter shedoes the work with keener zest, knowing that it may function in anothermachine. 

=Art. =--When she looks at the "Captive Andromache" by Leighton she isinvolved in a network of speculations. She wonders by what devious waysthe mind of the artist had traveled in reaching this type and example ofbehavior. She wonders whether the artistic impulse was born in him orwhether it was acquired. She sees that he knew his Homer and she wouldbe glad to know just how his reading of the "Iliad" had come to functionin this particular picture. She further wonders what lessons in drawingand painting the artist had had in the schools that finally culminatedin this masterpiece, and whether any of his classmates ever achieveddistinction as artists. She wonders, too, whether there is an embryoartist in her class and what she ought to do in the face of thatpossibility. Again she wonders how geography, grammar, and spelling canbe made to function in such a painting as Rosa Bonheur's "The PloughOxen, " and her wonder serves to invest these subjects with new meaningand power. 

=Shakespeare. =--In the school at Stratford they pointed out to her thedesk at which Shakespeare sat as a lad, with all its boyishhieroglyphics, and her thought instinctively leaped across the years to"The Tempest, " "King Lear, " and "Hamlet. " She pondered deeply therelation between the activities of the lad and the behavior of the man, wondering how much the school had to do with the plays that stand alonein literature, and whether he imbibed the power from associations, frombooks, from people, or from his ancestors. She wondered what magicingredient had been dropped into the activities of his life that hadproven the determining factor in the plays that set him apart among men. She realizes that his behavior was distinctive, and she fain woulddiscover the talisman whose potent influence determined the bent andpower of his mind. And she wonders, again, whether any pupil in herschool may ever exemplify such behavior. 

=History. =--When she reads her history she has a keener, deeper, andwider interest than ever before, for she now realizes that every eventof history is an effect, whose inciting causes lie back in the years, and is not fortuitous as she once imagined. She realizes that thehistorical event may have been the convergence of many lines of thinkingemanating from widely divergent sources, and this conception serves tomake her interest more acute. In thus reasoning from effect back tocause she gains the ability to reason from cause to effect and, therefore, her teaching of history becomes far more vital. She isstudying the philosophy of history and not a mere catalogue of isolatedand unrelated facts. History is a great web, and in the events she seesthe pattern that minds have worked. She is more concerned now with thereactions of her pupils to this pattern than she is with mere names anddates, for these reactions give her a clew to tendencies on the part ofher pupils that may lead to results of vast import. 

=Poetry. =--In every poem she reads she finds an illustration of mentaland spiritual behavior, and she fain would find the key that willdiscover the mental operations that conditioned the form of the poem. She would hark back to the primal impulse of each bit of imagery, andshe analyzes and appraises each word and line with the zeal and skill ofa connoisseur. She would estimate justly and accurately the activitiesthat functioned in this sort of behavior. She seeks for the influencesof landscapes, of sky, of birds, of sunsets, of clouds, --in short, ofall nature, as well as of the manifestations of the human soul. Thus theteacher gains access into the very heart of nature and life and can thuscause the poem to become a living thing to her pupils. In all literatureshe is ever seeking for the inciting causes; for only so can she provean inspiring guide and counselor in pointing to them the way towardworthy achievements. 

=Attitude of teacher. =--In conclusion, then, we may readily distinguishthe vitalized teacher from the traditional teacher by her attitudetoward the facts set down in the books. The traditional teacher looksupon them as mere facts to be noted, connoted, memorized, reproduced, and graded, whereas the vitalized teacher regards them as types ofbehavior, as ultimate effects of mental and spiritual activities. Thetraditional teacher knows that seven times nine are sixty-three, andthat is quite enough for her purpose. If the pupil recites the factcorrectly, she gives him a perfect grade and recommends him forpromotion. For the vitalized teacher the bare fact is not enough. Shedoes not disdain or neglect the mechanics of her work, but she seesbeyond the present. She sees this same fact merging into the operationsof algebra, geometry, trigonometry, calculus, physics, and engineering, until it finally functions in some enterprise that redounds to thewell-being of humanity. 

=Conclusion. =--To her every event of history, every fact of mathematicsand science, every line of poetry, every passage of literature ispregnant with meaning, dynamic, vibrant, dramatic, and prophetic. Nothing can be dull or prosaic to her electric touch. All the facts ofthe books, all the emotions of life, and all the beauties of nature sheweaves into the fabric of her dreams for her pupils. The goal of heraspirations is far ahead, and around this goal she sees clustered thosewho were her pupils. In every recitation this goal looms large in hervision. She can envisage the viewpoint of her pupils, and thus strivesto have them envisage hers. She yearns to have them join with her inlooking down through the years when the activities of the school will befunctioning in worthy behavior. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Discuss the relative importance of environment as a factor in thebehavior of plants; animals; children; men. 

2. How may an understanding of the mutual reaction of the child and hisenvironment assist the teacher in planning for character building inpupils?

3. Make specific suggestions by which children may influence theirenvironment. 

4. Discuss the vitalized teacher's contribution to the environment ofthe child. 

5. After reading this chapter give your definition of "behavior. "

6. Discuss the author's idea of leadership. 

7. Define education in terms of behavior, environment, and heredity. 

8. Account for the difference in behavior of some of the charactersmentioned in the chapter. 

9. How may the vitalized teacher be distinguished from the traditionalteacher in her attitude toward facts?

10. Discuss the doctrine of educational predestination. 

CHAPTER XXII

BOND AND FREE

=Spiritual freedom. =--There is no slavery more abject than the bondageof ignorance. John Bunyan was not greatly inconvenienced by beingincarcerated in jail. His spirit could not be imprisoned, but theimprisonment of his body gave his mind and spirit freedom andopportunity to do work that, otherwise, might not have been done. If hehad lived a mere physical life and had had no resources of the mind uponwhich to draw, his experience in the jail would have been most irksome. But, being equipped with mental and spiritual resources, he could smiledisdain at prison bars, and proceed with his work in spiritual freedom. Had he been dependent solely, or even mainly, upon food, sleep, drink, and other contributions to his physical being for his definition oflife, then his whole life would have been restricted to the limits ofhis cell; but the more extensive and expansive resources of his liferendered the jail virtually nonexistent. 

=Illustrations. =--It is possible, therefore, so to furnish the mind thatit can enjoy freedom in spite of any bondage to which the body may besubjected. Indeed, the whole process of education has as its largeobjective the freedom of the mind and spirit. Knowledge of truth givesfreedom; ignorance of truth is bondage. A man's knowledge may bemeasured by the extent of his freedom; his ignorance, by the extent ofhis bondage. In the presence of truth the man who knows stands free andunabashed, while the man who does not know stands baffled andembarrassed. In a chemical laboratory the man who knows chemistry movesabout with ease and freedom, while the man who does not know chemistrystands fixed in one spot, fearing to move lest he may cause anexplosion. To the man who knows astronomy the sky at night presents amarvelous panorama full of interest and inspiration, to the man who isignorant of astronomy the same sky is merely a dome studded with dots oflight. 

=Rome. =--The man who lacks knowledge of history is utterly bewilderedand ill at ease in the Capitoline Museum at Rome. All about him arebusts that represent the men who made Roman history, but they have nomeaning for him. Nero and Julius Cæsar are mere names to him and, assuch, bear no relation to life. Cicero and Caligula might exchangeplaces and it would be all one to him. He takes a fleeting glance at thestatue of the Dying Gaul, but it conveys no meaning to him. He hasneither read nor heard of Byron's poem which this statue inspired. Hesees near by the celebrated Marble Faun, but he has not read Hawthorne'sromance and therefore the statue evokes no interest. In short, he isbored and uncomfortable, and importunes his companions to go elsewhere. 

When he looks out upon the Forum he says it looks the same to him as anyother stone quarry, and he roundly berates the shiftlessness of theRomans in permitting the Coliseum to remain when the stone could be usedfor building purposes, for bridges, and for paving. The Tiber impresseshim not at all for, as he says, he has seen much larger rivers and, certainly, many whose water is more clear. In the Sistine Chapel hecannot be persuaded to give more than a passing glance at the ceilingbecause it makes his neck ache to look up. The Laocoön and ApolloBelvedere he will not see, giving as a reason that he is more than tiredof looking at silly statuary. He feels it an imposition that he shouldbe dragged around to such places when he cares nothing for them. Hisevident boredom is pathetic, and he repeatedly says that he'd far ratherbe visiting in the corner grocery back home, than to be spending histime in the Vatican. 

=Contrasts. =--In this, he speaks but the simple truth. In the grocery hehas comfort while, in the Vatican, he is in bondage. His ignorance ofart, architecture, history, and literature reduces him to thralldom inany place that exemplifies these. In the grocery he has comfort becausehe can have a share in the small talk and gossip that obtain there. Hiscompanions speak his language and he feels himself to be one of them. Were they, by any chance, to begin a discussion of history he would feelhimself ostracized and would leave them to their own devices. If theywould retain him as a companion they must keep within his range ofinterests and thinking. To go outside his small circle is to offer anaffront. He cannot speak the language of history, or science, or art, and so experiences a feeling of discomfort in any presence where thislanguage is spoken. 

=History. =--In this concrete illustration we find ample justificationfor the teaching of history in the schools. History is one of the largestrands in the web of life, and to neglect this study is to deny to thepupil one of the elements of freedom. It is not easy to conceive asituation that lacks the element of history in one or another of itsphases or manifestations. Whether the pupil travels, or embarks upon aprofessional life, or associates, in any relation, with cultivatedpeople, he will find a knowledge of history not only a convenience but areal necessity, if he is to escape the feeling of thralldom. Theutilitarian value of school studies has been much exploited, and thatphase is not to be neglected; but we need to go further in estimatingthe influence of any study. We need to inquire not only how a knowledgeof the study will aid the pupil in his work, but also how it willcontribute to his life. 

=Restricted concepts. =--We lustily proclaim our country to be the landof the free, but our notion of freedom is much restricted. In thepopular conception freedom has reference to the body. A man can walk thestreets without molestation and can vote his sentiments at the polls, but he may not be able to take a day's ride about Concord and Lexingtonwith any appreciable sense of freedom. He may walk about theCongressional Library and feel himself in prison. He may desert alecture for the saloon in the interests of his own comfort. He may findthe livery stable more congenial than the drawing-room. His body mayexperience a sort of freedom while his mind and spirit are held fast inthe shackles of ignorance. A Burroughs, an Edison, a Thoreau, might havehis feet in the stocks and still have more freedom than such a man asthis. He walks about amid historic scenes with his spiritual eyesblindfolded, and that condition of mind precludes freedom. 

=Real freedom. =--We shall not attain our high privileges as a freepeople until freedom comes to mean more than the absence of physicalrestraint. Our conception of freedom must reach out into the world ofmind and spirit, and our educational processes must esteem it theirchief function to set mental and spiritual prisoners free. We have onlyto read history, science, and literature to realize what sublime heightsmind can attain in its explorations of the realms of truth, and, sincethe boys and girls of our schools are to pass this way but once, everyeffort possible should be made to accord to them full freedom to emulatethe mental achievements of those who have gone before. They have a rightto become the equals of their predecessors, and only freedom of mind andspirit can make them such. Every man should be larger than his task, andonly freedom of mind and spirit can make him so. The man who works inthe ditch can revel among the sublime manifestations of truth if onlyhis mind is rightly furnished. 

=Spelling. =--The man who is deficient in spelling inevitably confineshis vocabulary to narrow limits and so lacks facility of expression andnicety of diction. Accordingly, he suffers by comparison with otherswhose vocabulary is more extensive and whose diction is, therefore, moreelegant. The consciousness of his shortcomings restricts the exuberanceof his life, and he fails of that sense of large freedom that aknowledge of spelling would certainly give. So that even in such anelementary study as spelling the school has an opportunity to generatein the pupils a feeling of freedom, and this feeling is quite asimportant in the scheme of life as the ability to spell correctly. Inthis statement, there is no straining for effects. On the contrary, manyillustrations might be adduced to prove that it is but a plain statementof fact. A cultured lady confesses that she is thrown into a panicwhenever she has occasion to use the word _Tuesday_ because she is nevercertain of the spelling. 

=The switchboard. =--Life may be likened to an extensive electricswitchboard, and only that man or woman has complete freedom who canpress the right button without hesitation or trepidation. The ignorantman stands paralyzed in the presence of this mystery and knows not howto proceed to evoke the correct response to his desires. It has beensaid that everything is infinitely high that we cannot see over. Hence, to the man who does not know, cube root is infinitely high and, as such, is as far away from his comprehension as the fourth dimension or theprecession of the equinoxes. In the presence of even such a simple truthas cube root he stands helpless and enthralled. He lives in a smallcircle and cannot know the joy of the man whose mind forgathers with thebig truths of life. 

=Comparisons. =--The ignorant man cannot accompany this man upon hismighty excursions, but must remain behind to make what he can of hisfeeble resources. The one can penetrate the mysteries of the planets andbring back their secrets; the other must confine his thinking to theweather and the crops. The one can find entertainment in the Bible andShakespeare; the other seeks companionship among the cowboys and Indiansof the picture-films. The one sits in rapt delight through an evening ofgrand opera, reveling on the sunlit summits of harmony; the other canrise no higher in the scale of music than the raucous hand organ. Theone finds keen delight among the masterpieces of art; the other findshis definition of art in the colored supplement. The one experiences theacme of pleasure in communing with historians, musicians, artists, scientists, and philologists; the other finds such associations the veryacme of boredom. The one finds freedom among the big things of life; theother finds galling bondage. 

=Three elements of freedom. =--There are three elements of freedom thatare worthy of emphasis. These are self-reliance, self-support, andself-respect. These elements are the trinity that constitute one of themajor ultimate aims of the vitalized school. The school that inculcatesthese qualities must prove a vital force in the life of the pupil; andthe pupil who wins these qualities is well equipped for the work of realliving. These qualities are the golden gateways to freedom, nor canthere be a full measure of freedom if either of these qualities belacking. Moreover, these qualities are cumulative in their relations toone another. Self-reliance leads to and engenders self-support, and boththese underlie and condition self-respect. Or, to put the caseconversely, there cannot be self-respect in the absence of self-relianceand self-support. 

=Self-reliance. =--It would not be easy to over-magnify the influence ofthe school that is rightly conducted in the way of inculcating thequality of self-reliance and in causing it to grow into a habit. Everyproblem that the boy solves by his own efforts, every obstacle that hesurmounts, every failure that he transforms into a success, and everyadvance he makes towards mastery gives him a greater degree ofself-reliance, greater confidence in his powers, and greater courage topersevere. It is the high privilege of the teacher to cause a boy tobelieve in himself, to have confidence in his ability to win through. Tothis end, she adds gradually to the difficulties of his work, alwayskeeping inside the limits of discouragement, and never fails to giverecognition to successful achievements. In this way the boy gainsself-reliance and so plumes himself for still loftier flights. Day afterday he moves upward and onward, until at length he exemplifies thesentiment of Virgil, "They can because they think they can. "

=This quality in practice. =--The self-reliance that becomes ingrained ina boy's habits of life will not evaporate in the heat of the activitiesand competition of the after-school life. On the contrary, it will bereënforced and crystallized by the opportunities of business orprofessional life, and, in calm reliance upon his own powers, he willwelcome competition as an opportunity to put himself to the test. He isno weakling, for in school he made his independent way in spite of thelions in his path, and so gained fiber and courage for the contests ofdaily life. And because he has industry, thrift, perseverance, andself-reliance the gates of success swing wide open and he enters intothe heritage which he himself has won. 

=The sterling man. =--His career offers an emphatic negation to thenotion that obtains here and there to the effect that education makes aboy weak and ineffective, robbing him of the quality of sterlingelemental manhood, and fitting him only for the dance-hall and inanesocial functions. The man who is rightly trained has resources thatenable him to add dignity and character to social functions in that heexhales power and bigness. People recognize in him a real man, capable, alert, and potential, and gladly pay him the silent tribute that manhoodnever fails to win. He can hold his own among the best, and only thebest appeal to him. 

=Self-respect. =--And, just as he wins the respect of others, so he winsthe respect of himself, and so the triumvirate of virtues is complete. Having achieved self-respect he disdains the cheap, the bizarre, thegaudy, and the superficial. He knows that there are real values in lifethat are worthy of his powers and best efforts, and these real valuesare the goal of his endeavors. Moreover, he has achieved freedom, and sois not fettered by precedent, convention, or fads. He is free toestablish precedents, to violate the conventions when a great principleis at stake, and to ignore fads. He can stand unabashed in the presenceof the learned of the earth, and can understand the heartbeats of life, because he has had experience both of learning and of life. And being afree man his life is fuller and richer, and he knows when and how tobestow the help that will give to others a sense of freedom and makelife for them a greater boon. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Account for the production of some of our greatest religiousliterature in prison or in exile. Give other instances than the onementioned by the author. 

2. Give your idea of the author's concept of the terms "bondage" and"freedom. "

3. Add to the instances noted in this chapter where ignorance hasproduced bondage. 

4. Defend the assertion that the cost of ignorance in our countryexceeds the cost of education. The total amount spent for publiceducation in 1915 slightly exceeded $500, 000, 000. 

5. How do the typical recitations of your school contribute to thehappiness of your pupils? Be specific. 

6. How may lack of thoroughness limit freedom? Illustrate. 

7. How may education give rise to self-reliance? Self-respect?

8. Show that national and religious freedom depend upon education. 

CHAPTER XXIII

EXAMINATIONS

=Prelude. =--When the vitalized school has finally been achieved therewill result a radical departure from the present procedure in the matterof examinations. A teacher in the act of preparing a list of examinationquestions of the traditional type is not an edifying spectacle. He has atext-book open before him from which he extracts nuts for his pupils tocrack. It is a purely mechanical process and only a mechanician couldpossibly debase intelligence and manhood to such unworthy uses. Were itnot so pathetic it would excite laughter. But this teacher is the victimof tradition. He knows no other way. He made out examination questionsin accordance with this plan fifteen years ago and the heavens didn'tfall; then why, pray, change the method? Besides, men and women who werethus examined when they were children in school have achieveddistinction in the world's affairs, and that, of itself, proves thevalidity of the method, according to his way of thinking. 

=Mental atrophy. =--It seems never to occur to him that children havelarge powers of resistance and that some of his pupils may have wondistinction in spite of his teaching and his methods of examination andnot because of them. His trouble is mental and spiritual atrophy. Hethinks and feels by rule of thumb, "without variableness or shadow ofturning. " In the matter of new methods he is quite immune. He settledthings to his complete satisfaction years ago, and what was good enoughfor his father, in school methods, is quite good enough for him. Hisself-satisfaction would approach sublimity, were it not so extremelyludicrous. He has a supercilious sneer for innovations. How he can bringhimself to make concessions to modernity to the extent of riding in anautomobile is one of the mysteries. 

=Self-complacency. =--His complacency would excite profound admirationdid it not betoken deadline inaction. He became becalmed on the sea oflife years ago, but does not know it. When the procession of life movespast him he thinks he is the one who is in motion, and takes greatunction to himself for his progressiveness--"and not a wave of troublerolls across his peaceful breast. " So he proceeds to copy anotherquestion from the text-book, solemnly writing it on a bit of paper, andlater copying on the blackboard with such a show of bravery and gusto aswould indicate that some great truth had been revealed to him alone. Inan orotund voice he declaims to his pupils the mighty revelations thathe copied from the book. His examination régime is the old offer of amess of pottage for a birthright. 

=Remembering and knowing. =--In our school practices we have become soinured to the question-and-answer method of the recitation that we havemade the examination its counterpart. As teachers we are constantlyadmonishing our pupils to remember, as if that were the basic principlein the educational process. In reality we do not want them toremember--we want them to know; and the distinction is all-important. The child does not remember which is his right hand; he knows. He doesnot remember the face of his mother; he knows her. He does not rememberwhich is the sun and which is the moon; he knows. He does not remembersnow, and rain, and ice, and mud; he knows. 

=Questions and answers. =--But, none the less, we proceed upon theagreeable assumption that education is the process of memorizing, and soreduce our pupils to the plane of parrots; for a parrot has a prodigiousmemory. Hence, it comes to pass that, in the so-called preparation oftheir lessons, the pupils con the words of the book, again and again, and when they can repeat the words of the book we smile approval andgive a perfect grade. It matters not at all that they display nointelligent understanding of the subject so long as they can repeat thestatements of the book. It never seems to occur to the teacher that thepupil of the third grade might give the words of the binomial theoremwithout the slightest apprehension of its meaning. We grade for therepetition of words, not for intelligence. 

=Court procedure. =--In our school practices we seem to take our cue fromcourt procedure and make each pupil who recites feel that he is on thewitness stand experiencing all its attendant discomforts, instead ofbeing a coöperating agent in an agreeable enterprise. We suspend thesword of Damocles above his head and demand from him such answers aswill fill the measure of our preconceived notions. He may know more ofthe subject, in reality, than the teacher, but this will not avail. Infact, this may militate against him. She demands to know what the booksays, with small concern for his own knowledge of the subject. Weproclaim loudly that we must encourage the open mind, and then by ourwitness-stand ordeal forestall the possibility of open-mindedness. 

=Rational methods. =--When we have learned wisdom enough, and humanityenough, and pedagogy enough to dispense with the quasi-inquisition typeof recitation, the transition to a more rational method of examinationwill be well-nigh automatic. Let it not be inferred that to inveighagainst the question-and-answer type of recitation is to advocate anyabatement of thoroughness. On the contrary, the thought is to insuregreater thoroughness, and to make evident the patent truth thatthoroughness and agreeableness are not incompatible. Experience ought toteach us that we find it no hardship to work with supreme intensity atany task that lures us; and, in that respect, we are but grown-upchildren. We have only to generate a white-heat of interest in order tohave our pupils work with intensity. But this sort of interest does notthrive under compulsion. 

=Analysis and synthesis. =--The question-and-answer method evermoreimplies analysis. But children are inclined to synthesis, which shows atonce that the analytic method runs counter to their natural bent. Theylike to make things, to put things together, to experiment along thelines of synthesis. Hence the industrial arts appeal to them. Butconstructing problems satisfies their inclination to synthesis quite aswell as constructing coat-hangers or culinary compounds, if only theincitement is rational. The writers of our text-books are coming torecognize this fact, and it does them credit. In time, we may hope tohave books that will take into account the child's natural inclinations, and the schools will be the beneficiaries. 

=Thinking. =--In the process of synthesis the pupil is free to draw uponthe entire stock of his accumulated resources, whereas in thequestion-and-answer method he is circumscribed. In the question-and-answerplan he is encouraged to remember; in the other he is encouraged to think. In our theories we exalt thinking to the highest pinnacle, but in ourpractice we repress thinking and exalt memory. We admonish our pupils tothink, sometimes with a degree of emphasis that weakens our admonition, and then bestow our laurel wreaths upon those who think little butremember much. Our inconsistency in this respect would be amusing if thechild's interests could be ignored. But seeing that the child pays thepenalty, our inconsistency is inexcusable. 

=Penalizing. =--The question-and-answer régime, in its full application, is not wholly unlike a punitive expedition, in that the teacher asks thequestion and sits with pencil poised in air ready to blacklist theunfortunate pupil whose memory fails him for the moment. The child isembarrassed, if not panic-stricken, and the teacher seems more like anavenging nemesis than a friend and helper. Just when he needs help hereceives epithets and a condemning zero. He sinks into himself, disgusted and outraged, and becomes wholly indifferent to the subsequentphases of the lesson. He feels that he has been trapped and betrayed, and days are required for his redemption from discouragement. 

=Traditional method. =--In the school where this method is in vogue theexamination takes on the color and character of the recitation. At theclose of the term, or semester, the teacher makes out the proverbial tenquestions which very often reflect her own bias, or predilections, andin these ten questions are the issues of life and death. A hundredquestions might be asked upon the subjects upon which the pupils are tobe tested, but these ten are the only ones offered--with no options. Then the grading of the papers ensues, and, in this ordeal, the teacherthinks herself another Atlas carrying the world upon her shoulders. Theboy who receives sixty-seven and the one who receives twenty-seven areboth banished into outer darkness without recourse. The teacher may knowthat the former boy is able to do the work of the next grade, but themarks she has made on the paper are sacred things, and he has fallenbelow the requisite seventy. Hence, he is banished to the limbo of thelost, for she is the supreme arbiter of his fate. 

No allowance is made for nervousness, illness, or temperamentalconditions, but the same measuring-rod is applied to all with nodiscrimination, and she has the marks on the papers to prove herinfallibility. If a pupil should dare to question the correctness of hergrades, he would be punished or penalized for impertinence. Her gradesare oracular, inviolable, and therefore not subject to review. She mayhave been quite able to grade the pupils justly without any such ordeal, but the school has the examination habit, and all the sacred rites mustbe observed. In that school there is but one way of salvation, and thatway is not subject either to repeal or amendment. It is _via sacra_ andmust not be profaned. Time and long usage have set the seal of theirapproval upon it and woe betide the vandal who would dare tamper withit. 

=Testing for intelligence. =--This emphatic, albeit true, representationof the type of examinations that still obtains in some schools has beenset out thus in some detail that we may have a basis of comparison withthe other type of examinations that tests for intelligence rather thanfor memory. For children, not unlike their elders, are glad to havepeople proceed upon the assumption that they are endowed with a modicumof intelligence. They will strive earnestly to meet the expectations oftheir parents and teachers. Many wise mothers and teachers have incitedchildren to their best efforts by giving them to know that much isexpected of them. It is always far better to expect rather than todemand. Coercion may be necessary at times, but coercion frowns whileexpectation smiles. Hence, in every school exercise the teacher doeswell to concede to the pupils a reasonable degree of intelligence andthen let her expectations be commensurate with their intelligence. 

=Concessions. =--It is an affront to the intelligence of a child not toconcede that he knows that the days are longer in the summer than inwinter. We may fully expect such a degree of intelligence, and base ourteaching upon this assumption. In our examinations we pay a delicatecompliment to the child by giving him occasion for thinking. We may askhim why the days are longer in summer than in winter and thus give himthe feeling that we respect his intelligence. Our examinations mayalways assume observed facts. Even if he has never noted the fact thathis shadow is shorter in summer than in winter, if we assume suchknowledge on his part and ask him why such is the case, we shallstimulate his powers of observation along with his thinking. If theteacher asks a boy when and by whom America was discovered, he resentsthe implication of crass ignorance; but if she asks how Columbus came todiscover America in 1492, he feels that it is conceded that there aresome things he knows. 

=Illustrations. =--If we ask for the width of the zones, we are placingthe emphasis upon memory; but, if we ask them to account for the widthof the zones, we are assuming some knowledge and are testing forintelligent thinking. If we ask why the sun rises in the east and setsin the west we are, once again, assuming a knowledge of the facts andtesting for intelligence. If we ask for the location of the Suez, Kiel, and Welland canals, we are testing for mere memory; but, if we ask whatuseful purpose these canals serve, we are testing for intelligence. Whenwe ask pupils to give the rule for division of fractions, we are testingagain for mere memory; but when we ask why we invert the terms of thedivisor, we are treating our pupils as rational beings. Our pedagogicalsins bulk large in geography when we continually ask pupils to locateplaces that have no interest for them. Such teaching is a travesty onpedagogy and a sin against childhood. 

=Intelligence of teacher. =--If the teacher is consulting her own easeand comfort, then she will conduct the examination as a test for memory. It requires but little work and less thinking to formulate a set ofexamination questions on this basis. She has only to turn the pages ofthe text-book and make a check-mark here and there till she hasaccumulated ten questions, and the trick is done. But if she is testingfor intelligence, the matter is not so simple. To test for intelligencerequires intelligence and a careful thinking over the whole scope of thesubject under consideration. To do this effectively the teacher mustkeep within the range of the pupil's powers and still stimulate him tohis best efforts. 

=Major and minor. =--She must distinguish between major and minor, andthis is no slight task. Her own bias may tend to elevate a minor into amajor rank, and this disturbs the balance. Again, she must see things intheir right relations and proportions, and this requires deliberatethinking. In "King Lear" she may regard the Fool as a negligible minor, but some pupil may have discovered that Shakespeare intended thischaracter to serve a great dramatic purpose, and the teacher suffershumiliation before her class. If she were testing for memory, she wouldask the class to name ten characters of the play and like hackneyedquestions, so that her own intelligence would not be put to the test. Accurate scholarship and broad general intelligence may be combined inthe same person and, certainly, we are striving to inculcate and fosterthese qualities in our pupils. 

=Books of questions and answers. =--When the examinations for teachersshall become tests for intelligence and not for memory, we may fullyexpect to find the same principle filtering into our school practices. It is a sad travesty upon education that teachers, even in thisenlightened age, still try to prepare for examinations by committing tomemory questions and answers from some book or educational paper. Butthe fault lies not so much with the teachers themselves as with thosewho prepare the questions. The teachers have been led to believe that tobe able to recall memorized facts is education. There are those, ofcourse, who will commercialize this misconception of education bypublishing books of questions and answers. Of course weak teachers willpurchase these books, thinking them a passport into the promised land. 

The reform must come at the source of the questions that constitute theexamination. When examiners have grown broad enough in their conceptionof education to construct questions that will test for intelligence, weshall soon be rid of such an incubus upon educational progress as a bookof questions and answers. The field is wide and alluring. History, literature, the sciences, and the languages are rich in material thatcan be used in testing for intelligence, and we need not resort to pettychit-chat in preparing for examinations. 

=The way of reform. =--We must take this broader view of the wholesubject of examinations before we can hope to emerge from our becloudedand restricted conceptions of education. And it can be done, as we knowfrom the fact that it is being done. Here and there we findsuperintendents, principals, and teachers who are shuddering away fromthe question-and-answer method both in the recitation and in theexamination. They have outgrown the swaddling-clothes and have risen tothe estate of broad-minded, intelligent manhood and womanhood. They haveenlarged their concept of education and have become too generous intheir impulses to subject either teachers or pupils to an ordeal that isa drag upon their mental and spiritual freedom. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. What purposes are actually achieved by examinations?

2. What evils necessarily accompany examinations? What evils usuallyaccompany them?

3. Outline a plan by which these purposes may be achieved unaccompaniedby the usual evils. 

4. Is memory of facts the best test of knowledge? Suggest other tests bywhich the value of a pupil's knowledge may be judged. 

5. Experts sometimes vary more than 70 per cent in grading the samemanuscript. The same person often varies 20 per cent or more in gradingthe same manuscript at different times. An experiment with your owngrading might prove interesting. 

6. Do you and your pupils in actual practice regard examinations as anend or as a means to an end? As corroborating evidence or as a finalproof of competence?

7. How may examinations test intelligence?

8. Suggest methods by which pupils may be led to distinguish major fromminor and to see things in their right relations. 

9. Is it more desirable to have the pupils develop these powers or tomemorize facts? Why?

10. Why are "question and answer" publications antagonistic to moderneducational practice? Why harmful to students?

CHAPTER XXIV

WORLD-BUILDING

=An outline. =--Education is the process of world-building. Every manbuilds his own world and is confined, throughout life, to the worldwhich he himself builds. He cannot build for another, nor can anotherbuild for him. Neither can there be an exchange of worlds. Moreover, theprocess of building continues to the end of life. In building theirrespective worlds all men have access to the same materials, and thecharacter of each man's world, then, is conditioned by his choice anduse of these materials. If one man elects to build a small world forhimself, he will find, at hand, an abundant supply of petty materialsthat he is free to use in its construction. But, if he elects to build alarge world, the big things of life are his to use. If he chooses tospend his life in an ugly world, he will find ample materials for hispurpose. If, however, he prefers a beautiful world, the materials willnot be lacking, and he will have the joy and inspiration that come fromspending a lifetime amid things that are fraught with beauty. 

=Exemplifications. =--This conception of education is not a figment offancy but a reality whose verification can be attested by a thousandexamples. We have only to look about us to see people who are livingamong things that are unbeautiful and who might be living in beautifulworlds had they elected to do so. Others are spending their lives amongthings that are trivial and inconsequential, apparently blind to thegreat and significant things that lie all about them. Some build theirworlds with the minor materials, while others select the majors. Someselect the husks, while others choose the grain. Some build their worldsfrom the materials that others disdain and seem not to realize theinferiority of their worlds as compared with others. Their supremecomplacency in the midst of the ugliness or pettiness of their worldsseems to accentuate the conclusion that they have not been able to see, or else have not been able to use, the other materials that areavailable. 

=Flowers. =--To the man who would live in a beautiful world flowers willbe a necessity. To such a man life would be robbed of some of its charmif his world should lack flowers. But unless he has subjective flowershe cannot have objective ones. He must have a sensory foundation thatwill react to flowers or there can be no flowers in his world. There maybe flowers upon his breakfast table, but unless he has a sensoryfoundation that will react to them they will be nonexistent to him. Hecan react to the bacon, eggs, and potatoes, but not to the flowers, unless he has cultivated flowers in his spirit before coming to thetable. 

=Lily-of-the-valley civilization. =--All the flowers that grow may adornhis world if he so elects. He may be content with dandelions andsunflowers if he so wills, or he may reach forth and gather about himfor his delight the entire gamut of roses from the Maryland to theAmerican Beauty, the violet and its college-bred descendant the pansy, the heliotrope, the gladiolus, the carnation, the primrose, thechrysanthemum, the sweet pea, the aster, and the orchid. But, if he canreach the high plane of the lily-of-the-valley, in all its daintiness, delicacy, chastity, and fragrance, he will have achieved distinction. When society shall have attained to the lily-of-the-valley plane, lifewill be fine, fragrant, and beautiful. Intemperance will be no more, andprofanity, vulgarity, and coarseness will disappear. Such things cannotthrive in a lily-of-the-valley world, but shrink away from the presenceof beauty and purity. 

=Music. =--Again, the man who is building such a world will elect to havemusic as one of the elements. But here, again, we find that he must havea sensory foundation or there will be no music for him. Moreover, thenature of this sensory foundation will determine the character of themusic to be found in his world. He may be satisfied with "Tipperary" orhe may yearn for Handel, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Melba, andSchumann-Heink. He may not be able to rise above the plane of ragtime, or he may attain to the sublime plane of "The Dead March in Saul. " Hehas access to all the music from the discordant hand organ to theoratorio and grand opera. In his introduction of a concert company, thechairman said: "Ladies and gentlemen, the artists who are to favor usthis evening will render nothing but high-grade selections. If any ofyou are inclined to be critical and to say that their music is aboveyour heads, I beg to remind you that it will not be above the placewhere your heads ought to be. " In substance he was saying that thenature of the music depended not so much upon the singers as upon thesensory foundation of the auditors. 

=Music and life. =--Having a sensory foundation capable of reacting tothe best music, this man opens wide the portals of his world for thereception of the orchestra, the concert, the opera, and the choir, andhis spirit revels in the "concord of sweet sounds. " Through the toil ofthe day he anticipates the music of the evening, and the next day hegoes to his work buoyant and rejuvenated by reason of the musicalrefreshment. He has music in anticipation and music in retrospect, andthus his world is regaled with harmony. His world cannot be a dead levelor a desert, for it is diversified by the alluring undulations of musicand made fertile by the perennial fountains of inspiring harmony, andhis world

 "shall be filled with music And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents like the Arabs, And as silently steal away. "

=Children. =--Again, this man elects to have children in his world, forhe has come to know that there is no sweeter music on earth than thelaughter of a child. Were he sojourning five hundred miles away from theabode of children he would soon be glad to walk the entire distance thathe might again hear the prattle, the laughter, or even the crying of achild. Cowboys on the plains have been thrown into a frenzy of delightat the sight of a little child. Full well the man knows that, if hewould have children in his world, he must find these children forhimself; for this task may not be delegated. If he would bring Paul andFlorence Dombey into his world, he must win them to himself by livingwith them throughout all the pages of the book. In order to lurePollyanna into his world to imbue it with the spirit of gladness, hemust establish a community of interests with her by imbibing her spiritas revealed in the book. 

=Characterizations. =--He may not have Little Joe in his world unless hisspirit becomes attuned to the pathos of _Bleak House_. And he both wantsand needs Little Joe. Echoing and reëchoing through his soul each dayare the words of the little chap, "He wuz good to me, he wuz, " andacting vicariously for the little fellow he touches the lives of otherunfortunates as the hours go by and brings to them sunshine and hope andcourage. And he must needs have Tiny Tim, also, to banish the cobwebsfrom his soul with his fervent "God bless us every one. " The day cannotgo far wrong with this simple prayer clinging in his memory. Itpermeates the perplexities of the day, gives resiliency to his spirit, and encourages and reënforces all the noble impulses that come into hisconsciousness. Wherever he goes and whatever he is doing he feels thatTiny Tim is present to bestow his childish benediction. 

=Lessons from childhood. =--In _Laddie_ he finds a whole family ofchildren to his liking and feels that his world is the better for theirpresence. To _Old Curiosity Shop_ and _Silas Marner_ he goes and bringsthence Little Nell and Eppie, feeling that in their boon companionshipthey will make his world more attractive to himself and others by theirgentle graces of kindness and helpfulness. In his quest for children ofthe right sort he lingers long with Dickens, the apostle and benefactorof childhood, but passes by the colored supplement. For all the childrenin his world he would have the approval and blessing of the Master. Hewould know, when he hears the words "Except ye become as littlechildren, " that reference is made to such children as he has about him. At the feet of these children he sits and learns the lessons ofsincerity, guilelessness, simplicity, and faith, and through their eyeshe sees life glorified. 

=Stars=. --Nor must his world lack stars. He needs these to draw histhoughts away from sordid things out into the far spaces. He would notspend a lifetime thinking of nothing beyond the weather, the ball-score, his clothes, and his ailments. He wants to think big thoughts, and hewould have stars to guide him. He knows that a man is as high, as broad, and as deep as his thoughts, and that if he would grow big in histhinking he must have big objects to engage his thoughts. He wouldexplore the infinite spaces, commune with the planets in their courses, attain the sublime heights where the masters have wrought, and discover, if possible, the sources of power, genius, and inspiration. He wouldfind delight in the colors of the rainbow, the glory of the morning, andthe iridescence of the dewdrop. He would train his thoughts to scan thespaces behind the clouds, to transcend the snow-capped mountain, and topenetrate the depths of the sea. He would visualize creation, evolution, and the intricate processes of life. So he must have stars in his world. 

=Books. =--In addition to all these he must have books in his world, andhe is cognizant of the fact that his neighbors judge both himself andhis world by the character of the books he selects. He may select _Mrs. Wiggs_ or _Les Miserables_. If he elects to have about him books of thecabbage patch variety, he condemns himself to that sort of reading for awhole lifetime. Nor is any redemption possible from such standards saveby his own efforts. Neither men nor angels can draw him up to the planeof Victor Hugo if he elects to abide in the cabbage patch. If he prefers_Graustark_ to _Macbeth_, all people, including his dearest friends, will go on their way and leave him to his choice. If he says he cannotread Shakespeare, Massinger, Milton, or Wordsworth, he does no violenceto the reputation of these writers, but merely defines and classifieshimself. 

=Authors as companions. =--Having learned or sensed these distinctions, he elects to consort with Burns, Keats, Shelley, Southey, Homer, Dante, Virgil, Hawthorne, Scott, Maupassant, Goethe, Schiller, and GeorgeEliot. In such society he never has occasion to explain or apologize forhis companions. He reads their books in the open and gains a feeling ofelation and exaltation. When he would see life in the large, he sitsbefore the picture of Jean Valjean. When he would see integrity andfidelity in spite of suffering, he sits before the portrait of Job. Whenhe would see men of heroic size, he has the characters of Homer file by. If he would see the panorama of the emotions of the human soul, heselects Hugo as his guide. If he would laugh, he reads _Tam O'Shanter_;if he would weep, he reads of the death of Little Nell. If he would seereal heroism, he follows Sidney Carton to the scaffold, or Esther intothe presence of the King. He goes to Shelley's _Skylark_ to find beauty, Burns's _Highland Mary_ to find tenderness, Hawthorne's _Scarlet Letter_to find tragedy, and the _Book of Job_ to find sublimity. Through hisbooks he comes to know Quasimodo and Sir Galahad; Becky Sharp andPenelope; Aaron Burr and Enoch Arden; and Herodias and FlorenceNightingale. 

=People. =--But his world would be incomplete without people, and here, again, he is free to choose. And, since he wants people in his world whowill be constant reminders to him of qualities that he himself wouldcultivate, he selects Ruth and Jephthah's daughter to representfidelity. When temptation assails him he finds them ready to lead himback and up to the plane of high resolves. To remind him of indomitablecourage and perseverance he selects William the Silent, ChristopherColumbus, and Moses. When his courage is waning and he is becomingflaccid and indolent, their very presence is a rebuke, and a survey oftheir achievements restores him to himself. As examples of patrioticthinking and action he invites into his world Samuel Adams, ThomasJefferson, and Alexander Hamilton. They remind him that he is a productof the past and that it devolves upon him to pass on to posteritywithout spot or blemish the heritage that has come to him through thepatriotic service and sacrifice of his progenitors. 

=Influence of people. =--That he may never lose sight of the fact that itis cowardly and degrading to recede from high ideals he opens the doorsof his world for Milton, Beethoven, and Michael Angelo. Their superbachievements, considered in connection with their afflictions andhardships, are a source of inspiration to him and keep him up to hisbest. As a token of his appreciation of these exemplars he strives toexcel himself, thus proving himself a worthy disciple. They need notchide him, for in their presence he cannot do otherwise than hold fastto his ideals and struggle upward with a courage born of inspiration. Living among such goodly people, he finds his world resplendent with thevirtues that prove a halo to life. With such people about him he can beneither lonely nor despondent. If the cares of life fret him for themoment, he takes counsel with them and his equilibrium is restored. Intheir company he finds life a joyous experience, for their very presenceexhales the qualities that make life worth while. 

As an inevitable result of all the influences that constitute his worldhe finds himself yearning for meliorism as the crownpiece. Drinking fromthe fount of inspiration that gushes forth at the behest of all thesewholesome influences, he longs for betterment. Good as he finds thethings about him, he feels that they are not yet good enough. So hebecomes the eloquent apostle of meliorism, proclaiming his gospelwithout abatement. The roads are not good enough, and he would havebetter ones. Our houses are not good enough, and he would have peopledesign and build better ones. Our music is not good enough as yet, andhe would encourage men and women to write better. Our books are not goodenough, and he would incite people to write better ones. Our conduct ofcivic affairs is not good enough, and he would stimulate society tostrive for civic betterment. Our municipal government is not goodenough, and he proclaims the need to make improvement. Our nationalgovernment is not all that it might be, and he would have all peoplejoin in a benevolent conspiracy to make it better. 

=Influence of the school. =--Thus day by day this man continues thebuilding of a world for himself. And day by day he strives to make hisworld better, not only as an abiding place for himself but also as anexample for others. In short, this man is a product of the vitalizedschool, and is weaving into the pattern of his life the teachings of theschool. In exuberance of spirit and in fervent gratitude he looks backto the school that taught him to know that education is the process ofworld-building. And to the school he gives the credit for the large andbeautiful world in which he lives. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Show how the world that one builds depends upon one's own choosing. 

2. Do people seem to realize this truth when they do not build theirworld as they might? If pupils fail to realize it, what can the teacherdo to help them?

3. Suppose a pupil is interested in petty things; the school mustutilize his interests. How can this be done? How can he be led to largeraims?

4. To what extent does the richness of our lives depend on the way wereact to stimuli?

5. Explain how each of the influences alluded to in this chapter helpsthe teacher. 

6. Why does the character of the books one reads most serve as an indexof one's own character?

7. What do you think of a person who prefers new books?

8. What do you think of one who prefers sensational books?

9. Why is it especially important for a teacher to be thoroughlyacquainted with the great characters of history?

10. Does acquaintance with the great in history tend to produce merely agood static character, or does it do more?

CHAPTER XXV

A TYPICAL VITALIZED SCHOOL

=The school an expression of the teacher. =--The vitalized school may bea school of one room or of forty rooms; it may be in the city, in thevillage, in the hamlet, or in the heart of the country; it may be akindergarten, a grade school, a high school, or a college. The size orthe location of the school does not determine its vital quality. This, on the contrary, is determined by the character of its work and thespirit that obtains. In general it may be said that the vitalizedteacher renders the school vital. This places upon her a large measureof responsibility, but she accepts it with equanimity, and rejoices inthe opportunity to test out her powers. It needs to be oft repeated thatif the teacher is static, the school will be static; but if the teacheris dynamic, the school will be dynamic. The teacher can neitherdelegate, abrogate, abate, nor abridge her responsibility. The school iseither vitalized or it is not, according to what the teacher is anddoes, and what the teacher does depends upon what she is. In short, theschool is an expression of the teacher, and, if the school is notvitalized, the reason is not far to seek. 

=A centralized school. =--For the purpose of illustration we may assumethat the typical vitalized school is located in the country, and is whatis known as a centralized school. The grounds comprise about ten acres, and the building contains, all told, not fewer than twenty rooms, largeand small. This building was designed by a student of school problems, and is not merely a theory of the architect. Each room, and each detail, articulates with every other room in harmony with a general scheme ofwhich the child and his interests are the prime considerations. Thewell-being of the child takes precedence over the reputation of thearchitect. Every nook of the building has its specific function, andthis function has vital reference to the child. The location of eachpiece of furniture can be explained from the viewpoint of the child, andthe architectural scheme is considered subsidiary. The seats conform tothe child, and not the reverse. The scheme of lighting concerns itselfwith the child's welfare rather than with the external appearance. 

=Integrity in construction and decoration. =--The decorations throughoutthe building are all chaste and artistic. Nothing below this standardcan win admission. No picture is admitted that does not represent art. The theory is that the school has a reflex influence upon the homes thatattracts them to its standards, and experience reveals the fact that thedecorations in the homes are constantly rising in artistic tone. Thestandards of the school become the standards of the pupils, and thepupils, in turn, modify and improve the standards of the homes. There isa degree of simplicity and dignity throughout the building that banishesfrom the homes the ornate and the bizarre. There is integrity in everydetail of construction, and the absence of veneer gives to the pupils adefinition of honesty and sincerity. There is nothing either in thebuilding or in the work of the school that savors of the show element. The teachers of history and mathematics cannot display the products oftheir teaching and, therefore, there is no display of her products bythe teacher of drawing. This school believes in education but not inexhibition. Words of commendation may be dispensed in the classrooms, but there is no exhibit of any department in the halls. The teachers aretoo polite and too considerate to sanction any such display. 

=Simplicity and sincerity. =--The library is notable for the characterof the books, but not for the number. The teachers and pupils are toogenuine ever to become thrasonical, and no teacher or pupil is everheard to boast of anything pertaining to the school. They neither boastnor apologize, but leave every visitor free to make his own appraisementof their school and its belongings. The teachers are too truly culturedand the pupils are too well trained ever to exploit themselves, theirschool, or their work. The pictures, the statuary, the fittings, and theequipment are all of the best, and, hence, show for themselves withoutexploitation. To teachers and pupils it would seem a mark ofill-breeding to expatiate upon their own things. Such a thing is simplynot done in this school. The auditorium is a stately, commodious, andbeautiful room, and everybody connected with the school accepts it as amatter of course with no boastful comment. Anything approachingbraggadocio would prove a discordant note in this school, and, in thisrespect, it represents the American ideal that is to be. 

=Rooms are phases of life. =--The home economics room, the industrialarts room, the laboratories, the dining room, the rest rooms, and thehospital room are all supplied with suitable fittings and equipment andall represent phases of life. At luncheon each pupil is served a bowl ofsoup or other hot dish to supplement his own private lunch, and thisfood is supplied at public expense. The school authorities have thewisdom to realize that health is an asset of the community and isfundamental in effective school work. The pupils serve their schoolmatesin relays, wash the dishes, and restore them to their places. The boysdo not think they demean themselves by such service, but enter into itin the true spirit of democracy. A teacher is present to modify andchasten the hurry and heedlessness of childhood, and there is decorumwithout apparent repression. 

=Industrial work. =--In connection with the industrial arts departmentthere is a repair shop where all the implements that are used in caringfor the school farm, gardens, orchards, and lawns are kept in repair. Here the auto trucks in which the pupils are brought to the school arerepaired by the drivers, assisted by the boys. In this shop the boysgain the practical knowledge that enables them to keep in repair thetools and machinery, including automobiles, at their homes. The farmerswho have no sons in school avail themselves of the skill and fidelitythat obtain in the shop, bringing in their tools, their harness, andtheir automobiles for needed repairs. The money thus earned is expendedfor school equipment. The products of the orchards, farm, and garden arethe property of the school and are all preserved for use in the homeeconomics department for school lunches. The man in charge of the farmis employed by the year and is a member of the teaching staff. The farm, gardens, orchard, and lawn are integral parts of the school, and performthe functions of laboratories. 

=School a life enterprise. =--There are all grades in the school, fromthe kindergarten through the high school. There is but slight disparityin the size of the classes, for the parents instinctively set apartthirteen years of the time of their children for life in the school. Tothese parents school and life are synonymous, and when a child entersthe kindergarten he enlists in the enterprise for a term of thirteenyears. The homes as well as the school are arranged on this basis, andthis plan of procedure is ingrained in the social consciousness. Deserting the school is no more thought of than any other form ofsuicide. If, by any chance, a boy should desert the school, he would bea pariah in that community and could not live among the people in anydegree of comfort. He would be made to feel that he had debased himselfand cast aspersion upon society. The looks that the people would bestowupon him would sting more than flagellation. He would be made to feelthat he had expatriated himself, and neither himself nor his parentswould be in good standing in the community. They would be made to feelthat their conduct was nothing short of sacrilege. 

=Public sentiment. =--In view of the school sentiment that obtains in thecommunity the eighth grade is practically as populous as the firstgrade. Attendance upon school work is a habit of thinking both with thechildren and with their parents, and school is taken for granted thesame as eating and sleeping. If a boy should, for any cause, fail tograduate from the high school, every patron of the school would regardit as a personal calamity. They would feel that he had, somehow, beendropped off the train before he reached his destination, and the wholecommunity would be inclined to wear badges of mourning. Every parent isvitally interested in each child of the community, whether he haschildren in school or not, and thus school taxes are paid with pride andelation. The school is regarded as a safe investment that pays largedividends. Patrons rally to the calls of the school with rare unanimityand heartiness. Differences in politics and religion evaporate in theirschool, for the school is the high plane upon which they meet infraternal concord. 

=The course of study. =--The course of study is flexible, and because ofits resiliency it adapts itself easily and gracefully to the nativedispositions and the aptitudes of the various pupils. If the boy has apenchant for agriculture, provision is made for him, both in the theoryand in the practical applications of the subject. If he inclines toscience, the laboratories accord him a gracious welcome. The studies areadapted to the boy and not the boy to the studies. No boy needdiscontinue school to find on the outside something that is congenial, for, within the school, he may find work that represents life in all itsphases. If he yearns for horticulture, then this study is made his majorand, all in good time, he is made foreman of the group who care for thegardens. If the course of study lacks the element which he craves andfor which he has a natural aptitude, this branch is added to the course. The economy of life demands the conservation of childhood and youth andthe school deems it the part of wisdom as well as civic and socialeconomy to provide special instruction for this boy, as was done in thecase of Helen Keller. This school, in theory and in practice, is firm inits opposition to wasting boys and girls. Hence, ample provision is madefor the child of unusual inclinations. 

=Electives. =--The pupils do not elect a study because it is easy, butbecause their inclinations run in that direction. Indeed, there are noeasy courses, no snap courses in the school. Diligent, careful, thoroughwork is the rule, and there can be found no semblance of approval forloafing or dawdling. The school stands for purposes that are clear indefinition and for work that is intense. There are no prizes offered forexcellent work, but the approbation of parents, teachers, andschoolmates, in the estimation of the pupils, far transcends anymaterial or symbolic prizes that could be offered. In school work and inconduct the pupils all strive to win this approval. There is nocoarseness nor boorishness, for that would forfeit this approval. Thecigarette is under ban, for public sentiment is against it; and, afterall, public sentiment is the final arbiter of conduct. Hence, no boywill demean himself by flying in the face of public sentiment throughindulging in any practice that this sentiment proclaims unclean orenervating. 

=The school the focus of community life. =--This school is the focus ofthe community. Hither come the patrons for music, for lectures, for art, for books and magazines, for social stimulus, and, in short, for all theelements of their avocational life. Indeed, in educational matters, thecommunity is a big wholesome family and the school is the shrine aboutwhich they assemble for educational and cultural communion. It is quitea common practice for mothers to sit in the classrooms engaged inknitting or sewing while their children are busy with their lessons. For, in their conception of life, geography and sewing are coördinateelements, and so blend in perfect harmony in the school régime. At theluncheon period these mothers go to the dining room with their childrenin the same spirit of coöperation that gives distinction to the schooland to the community. There is an interflow of interests between theschool and the homes that makes for unity of purpose and practice. Thereis freedom in the school but not license. People move about in a naturalway but with delicate consideration for the rights and sentiments ofothers. The atmosphere of the school interdicts rudeness. There is aquiet dignity, serenity, and intensity, with no abatement of freedom. Inthis school it is not good form for a boy to be less than a gentleman orfor a girl to be less than a lady. 

=The teachers. =--The atmosphere in which the pupils live is, mainly, anexhalation from the spirit of the teachers. They live and work togetherin a delightful spirit of concord and coöperation. They are magnanimousand would refuse to be a part of any life that would decline from thishigh plane. In this corps there are no hysterics, no heroics, no strain, no stress. They are, first of all, successful human beings; and theirexpert teaching is an expression of their human qualities. Theirteaching is borne along on the tones of conversation. They know thatwell-modulated tones of voice contribute to the culture and well-beingof the school. Should a teacher ever indulge in screeching, nagging, hectoring, badgering, or sarcasm, she would find herself ostracized. Such things are simply not done in this school. Hence, she would soonrealize that this school is no place for her and would voluntarilyresign. The school is simply above and beyond her kind. 

=Unity of purpose. =--Among the teachers there are no jealousies, becauseeach one is striving to exalt the others. They are so generous in theirimpulses, and have such exalted conceptions of life, that they inclineto catalogue their colleagues among the very elect. The teacher in thehigh school and the teacher in the primary grade hold frequentconversations concerning each other's work, and no teacher ever losesinterest in the pupils when they advance to the next grade. To suchteachers, education is not parceled out in terms of years but is acontinuous process, even as life itself. They use the text-book merelyas a convenience, but never as a necessity. If all the text-books in theschool should be destroyed overnight, the work would proceed as usualthe next day, barring mere inconvenience. They respect themselves andothers too highly ever to assume a patronizing air toward their pupils. On the contrary, they treat them as coördinates and confederates in thenoble and exhilarating game of life. 

=The vitalized school. =--They have due regard to their personalappearance, but, once they have decided for the day, they dismiss thematter from their thinking and devote their attention to majorconsiderations. Neither in dress, in manner, nor in conversation do theyever bring into the school a discordant note. School hours are not adetached portion of life but, rather, an integral part of life, and tothem life is quite as agreeable during these hours as before and after. Such as they cannot do otherwise than render the school vital. And whensuch teachers and patrons as these join in such a benevolent conspiracy, then shall we realize not only a typical school but the vitalizedschool. 

QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES

1. Upon what does the vitalization of a school mainly depend? Upon whatelse does it depend in part?

2. What suggestion is made in this chapter in regard to the planning ofschool buildings?

3. Why should care be taken in choosing the decorations of a school?

4. Why is it unwise for teacher or pupils to boast of the achievementsof the school?

5. Why has the question of school lunches gained so much prominencerecently?

6. How should the industrial work in a school be linked with that in thecommunity?

7. Why are there fewer students in the higher than in the lower gradesof most schools? Make a careful analysis of the situation in thisrespect in your school. 

8. Why is it a calamity to a community for a boy to fail to graduatefrom the high school?

9. What may be done to prevent a child going outside the school to findsomething congenial?

10. What should be a student's motive in choosing a course?

11. How do you make your school a center for community life? How can youmake it more of a center than it is?

12. How is the spirit of jealousy among teachers injurious to our schoolsystem? What usually makes one teacher disparage the work of another?

13. What is essential in vitalizing a school?

INDEX

Absorbing standards, 160. 

Acquisitiveness, 52. 

Advantages of socialized recitation, 178. 

Agriculture; a typical study, 192; its rapid development, 193; relation to geology, 194; the source of life, 202. 

Altruism, 124. 

Ambition, 226. 

American restaurants, 86. 

American story, 231. 

Analysis and synthesis, 293. 

Anarchy, 73. 

Ancestor, child as a future, 34. 

Ancestors, attitude of, 31. 

Answers, repetition of, 139. 

Antecedent causes, 261. 

Art, 197, 268; teaching as an, 143. 

Aspiration, 224; and worship, 149. 

Aspirations, 59. 

Attitude of teacher, 11, 272. 

Attitude towards work, 148. 

Authors, 311. 

Automobile, 105; factory, 47. 

Beauty, desire for pastoral, 58. 

Behavior, amplified, 265; in history, 267; in retrospect, 259; scope of, 256. 

Betterment, 244. 

Body subject to the mind, 120. 

Books, 311; as exponents of life, 14; of questions and answers, 300; of life, 228; supreme, 252. 

Botany, importance of, 195. 

Boy, story of a, 236. 

Bread, 200. 

Centralized school, 318. 

Characterizations, 308. 

Child; as a future ancestor, 34; as a whole, 250; as the objective, 200; and teacher, quest of, 104; as the center in school procedure, 18; imagination of, 26; supreme, 252; right to express himself, 25; play instinct of, 24; relation of to school work, 27; life, 21; rights of, 20. 

Child's; conception of truth, 109; conception, 103; need of ideals, 169; viewpoint of teacher, 168; experiences, 27; native tendencies, 24; right to the best, 23; native interests, 255; imagination, 236. 

Childhood curtailed, 22. 

Children, 307; parental attitude towards, 19; common interests, 216; should have school privileges, 19; real interests, 217; _vs. _ statistics, 247. 

Cigarettes, 117. 

Circus day, 118. 

Civilization, 305. 

Clean living, 37. 

College influences, 11. 

Columbus, voyage of, 152. 

Commerce, 55. 

Common from commonplace, 151. 

Comparison of life and living, 1. 

Comparison of two teachers, 129. 

Complacency of teacher, 135. 

Complete living defined, 112. 

Complexity of life, 4. 

Concepts restricted, 262, 279. 

Concessions, 297. 

Conclusion, 272. 

Conduct of teacher, 171. 

Conflict, 65. 

Conservation, 245. 

Contrasted methods, 44. 

Contrasts, 278. 

Coöperation, 75. 

Course of study, 324. 

Court procedure, 291. 

Curtailment of childhood, 22. 

Definition; of complete living, 112; of poetry, 222; of politician, 40; of socialized recitation, 176; of teaching, 2. 

Degrees and human qualities, 248. 

Democracy; foreign concept of, 66; the vitalized school a, 69. 

Democratic spirit, manifestations of, 71. 

Democratic teacher, 75. 

Desire is fundamental, 60. 

Desires for things intangible, 53. 

Domestic science, 199. 

Dynamic qualities, 146. 

Economic articulation, 59. 

Education, 101, 303; and substitution, 43; by absorption, 160; schools of, 246; unconsciously gained, 164. 

Efficiency, 80. 

Electives, 325. 

English, teacher of, 239. 

Enthusiasm, element of, 150. 

Environment, 259. 

Etymology, 106. 

Examinations, 288; traditional method, 294; testing for intelligence, 296; way of reform, 301. 

Expertness, appraisal of teaching, 131. 

Faith, 203, 227. 

Filtration plant and a vitalized school, 206. 

Flowers, 304. 

Food and life, 201. 

Foreign concept of democracy, 66. 

Formalities, meaningless, 128. 

Freedom, 120, 275; elements of, 283; real, 280. 

Function of the school, 70, 210. 

Gang element, 179. 

Generations, rights of the coming, 30. 

Girl and her elders, 237. 

Grammar, 212. 

Great Stone Face, 162. 

Habit, persistency of, 92. 

History, 79, 254, 270, 278; behavior in, 267; meaning of, 14. 

Home and the school, 255. 

Hospitals cited, 32. 

House of Parliament, 55. 

Human interest, 155. 

Human qualities, degrees of, 248. 

Humor, 232; betokens deep feeling, 239; defies explanation, 242; lack of, 235; of Lincoln, 238. 

Ideal; of the school, 215; rôle of, 166. 

Idealist, 49. 

Ideals, a perpetual influence, 169. 

Imagination of children, 26, 236. 

Imitation, politician worthy of, 43. 

Incomplete living, 113. 

Individual, responsibility of the, 69. 

Industrial work, 321. 

Influence; of people, 313; of the school, 315; upon pupils, 185. 

Influences of college, 11. 

Initial statement, 100. 

Innate tendencies, 61. 

Intelligence of teacher, 298. 

Intensity, life measured by, 2. 

Interest in practice, 180. 

Interest, life the great human, 249. 

Joy in work of artist teacher, 145. 

Language, 211; a social study, 211; and vitality, 15. 

Leadership, 42, 261. 

Learning democracy, 268. 

Lesson a prophecy, 263. 

Lessons from childhood, 309. 

Life; and living compared, 1; and music, 307; and reading, 12; as subject matter in teaching, 6; books as exponents of, 14; book of, 228; complexity of, 4; every subject invested with, 155; how the poet learns, 223; in literature, 6; quality of, 219; manifestations of, 5; measured by intensity, 2; sea as, 104; teachers' influx of, 228; the great human interest, 249; transfusion of, 224. 

Life and food, 201. 

Lincoln's humor, 238. 

Literature; life in, 6; pedagogy in, 163. 

Long division ramified, 264. 

Machine teacher, 246. 

Machinery, 268. 

Major and minor, 299. 

Man, 285. 

Manifestations of life, 5. 

Mark Twain as a philosopher, 240. 

Mathematics vitalized, 10. 

Meanderings, 139. 

Melting pot, 67. 

Mental atrophy, 289. 

Methods, 292; contrasted, 44; potency of right, 132; of the politician, 41. 

Michael Angelo, 108. 

Military training, 118. 

Minor and major, 299. 

Misconceptions, 35, 66. 

Misfits, 216. 

Mistakes, 214. 

Monuments, 58. 

Mulberry Bend, 83. 

Music, 306; and life, 307. 

Native land, 226. 

Needs of society, 212. 

Outlook, 264. 

Ownership, potency of, 181. 

Parental attitude towards children, 19. 

Parliament, House of, 55. 

Patriot, a typical, 82. 

Patriotism; a determining motive, 78; as a working principle, 77; conclusions, 89; in daily life, 85; thrift as, 87. 

Pedagogy in literature, 163. 

Penalizing, 294. 

People, 312; influence of, 313. 

Perseverance, 225. 

Personal efficiency, 115. 

Physical training, 116. 

Physics and Chemistry, 196. 

Physiology, 196. 

Poetry, 271; defined, 222. 

Poet learns life how, 223. 

Politician defined, 40; methods of, 41; worthy of imitation, 43. 

Possibilities, 134. 

Potency of right methods, 132. 

Power of understanding, 13. 

Problem of the teacher, 98. 

Proprietary interests, 180. 

Public sentiment, 323. 

Pupil teacher, 177. 

Question stated, 127. 

Questions and answers, 290; books of, 300. 

Rational methods, 292. 

Reading and life, 12. 

Recitation, example of socialized, 187. 

Reflex influence, 184. 

Remembering and knowing, 290. 

Repeating answers, 139. 

Resourcefulness, 153. 

Responsibility of the school, 36. 

Restricted concepts, 262. 

Resultants, 183. 

Rights of the child, 20. 

Rome, 276. 

Rooms, 320. 

Sanitation, 82. 

Scholar's concept of the sea, 102. 

School; and society, 46; and the home, 255; an expression of the teacher, 317; and factory compared, 130; a life enterprise, 322; function of the, 70; function of, 210; ideal of the, 215; influence of, 315. 

Schoolhouse, 319; the community center, 326. 

Schools; of education, 246; responsibility of, 36; work of the, 110. 

Sciences, relation of, to life, 198. 

Sea; as life, 104; scholar's concept of, 102. 

Self-complacency, 289. 

Self-interest, 41. 

Self-reliance, 284. 

Self-respect, 286. 

Shakespeare, 269. 

Simplicity and sincerity, 320. 

Snobbery, 73. 

Social intercourse, 56. 

Social study, language a, 211. 

Socialized recitation; definition of, 176; sample of, 187; exemplified in society, 182. 

Society; and the school, 46; needs of, 212. 

Sound body, 114. 

Spelling, 281; as patriotism, 77. 

Spirit, things of the, 123. 

Spiritual freedom, 275. 

Stars, 310. 

Statistics _vs. _ children, 247. 

Stories, 233. 

Story of a boy, 236. 

Street signs, 121. 

Substitutions, results of, 48. 

Switchboard, 282. 

Synthesis and analysis, 293. 

Synthetic teaching, 203. 

Teacher, 165; and child, 104; as a machine, 246; as environment, 162; attitude towards children, 254; conduct of, 171; characteristic qualities of, 144; intelligence of, 298; growth of, 172; her supremacy, 166; of English, 239; responsibility of, 159; rule of life, 171; seeing life large, 172; school an expression of, 317; skill of the, 256; status irrevocable, 168; volubility, 136. 

Teachers, 327; attitude, 11, 170; complacency, 135; contrasted, 9; first type, 251; influx of life, 228; problem, 89; province, 7; other self, 167; three types of, 250. 

Teaching, 229; as a fine art, 143; defined, 2; test of, 137; life as subject matter in, 6; power, 248. 

Temperance, 81. 

Tests of teaching, 137. 

Things of the spirit, 123. 

Thinking, 293. 

Thirteen colonies, 154. 

Three types of teachers, 250. 

Thrift as patriotism, 87. 

Time element, basic considerations, 129. 

Time, waste of, 133. 

Tom Sawyer, 91. 

Trained minds, 122; achievements of, 123. 

Transfusion of life, 224. 

Travel instinct, 57. 

Truth, child's conception of, 109. 

Twain story, 241. 

Two teachers compared, 129. 

Typical patriot, 82. 

Understanding, power of, 13. 

Unity of purpose, 328. 

Variety in excellence, 63. 

Vitalized mathematics, 10. 

Vitalized School, 329; a democracy, 69; an exemplification of complete living, 113; filtration plant, 206. 

Voluble teacher, 136. 

Waste of time, 133. 

Weaknesses transmitted, 30. 

Westminster Abbey, 54. 

Word automobile, 105. 

Word in use, 107. 

Work; a blessing, 96; as a privilege, 92; and enjoyment, 97; of the school, 110; potency of mental, 95; misconceptions of, 93. 

World-building, 303. 

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=Graves= A History of Education. Vol. I. Before the Middle Ages 1. 10 Vol. II. A History of Education During the Middle Ages 1. 10 Vol. III. Modern Times 1. 10 Great Educators of Three Centuries 1. 10 Peter Ramus and the Educational Reformation of the 16th Century 1. 25 A Students' History of Education 1. 25

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