UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES GIFT OF >r. Ernest Carroll Moore TEACHER AND TEACHING Jmprimi ote*t ANTHONY J. MAAS, S.J., Provincial Maryland-New York Province REMIGmS LAFORT, Censor imprimatur *JOHN CARDINAL FARLEY, Archbishop of New York June 18, 1914 TEACHER AND TEACHING BY RICHARD H. TIERNEY, S.J. LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. FOURTH AVENUE & 30TH STREET, NEW YORK LONDON, BOMBAY, CALCUTTA AND MADRAS 1914 COPYRIGHT, 1914 BY LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 1 vU Education Librarj I -T;, T-vt TO THE MEMORY OF MY MOTHEB 19385,': PREFACE THIS little book is neither an erudite nor an exhaustive discussion of the great prob- lem of education. It is composed of a se- ries of simple essays written in moments stolen from serious and exacting academic duties. The essays originally appeared in the columns of "America," and are now committed to a more permanent form, at the request of many who found them help- ful. In view of this request, the papers are left unchanged in form and substance, in the hope that the interest which they orig- inally evoked may be revived at a second reading. The author is aware of their defects, but he trusts that they may continue to suggest some thoughts to those who are engaged in the great work of Christian ed- ucation. If they accomplish this, his la- viii PREFACE bor will not have been without fruit. For the rest, he can say with the poet : "What is writ is writ. Would that it were worthier.*' E. H. T. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I THE TEACHER AND THE TEACHER'S CHIEF WORK 1 II TRUE EDUCATION 12 III THE IDEAL TEACHER 27 IV METHODS OF TEACHING 38 V MENTAL STIMULUS IN EDUCATION .... 54 VI THE METHOD AND FUNCTION OF RECITATION 68 VII DISCIPLINE 82 VIII CHARACTER 97 IX TRAINING FOR CHARACTER 106 X RELIGION IN EDUCATION 117 XI SOCIOLOGY AND CATHOLIC EDUCATION . .130 XII THE BOY AND THE SECULAR LIFE .... 144 XIII THE BOY AND THE PRIESTHOOD .... 155 XIV THE BOY AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE . 168 TEACHER AND TEACHING CHAPTER I THE TEACHER AND THE TEACHER'S CHIEF WORK THE primary aim of all true education is the formation of character. The ambi- tion of every true teacher is to accomplish this aim. He longs to work on the souls entrusted to his charge, in a way that will most surely effect this purpose. The sub- jects on whom he works are the young creatures of the moment people notori- ously inconsiderate of past and future. Like butterflies they are absorbed in the delights of the present. Their souls are cabined and confined and imprisoned within narrow limits. Worst of all, the prison- house is so comfortable and even consoling that the youths either fail to realize its TEACHER AND TEACHING nature, or realizing it, are disinclined to rescue the prisoner, hence it becomes the teacher's first task to destroy the great gates, or at least throw them open, so that the spirit of his pupils may enter upon a larger and nobler life. There is but one way to do this effectively, to wit, by bring- ing the boy to realize the high purpose of life, by giving him a view, a great, wide view of the end of existence and a desire to play a noble part in the world. For a soul with an overmastering de- sire for a higher life will not remain shackled. It will live life in all its fulness, anxious to make the best of its powers. Nor can our efforts in this direction begin too early. Time lost here is time never regained. No boy who enters our schools is too young to be brought to the realiza- tion that he is preparing to play a great part in the drama of life. This should be driven home to him with all possible force in the very beginning, so that his school days may be an inspiration to him, for the standard which he is expected to reach cannot be put too high. TEACHER AND TEACHING 3 He has a work to do. Its merit and force for good will depend upon the per- fection of his character and this is limit- less. Moreover, he should be shown that character is a fabric woven from his per- sonal thoughts, words and actions. As they are, so will his character be. Thus, he will come to know that his every aspira- tion is of importance; that every act of the present will work for good or ill in the future. Here is the teacher's first task, the quickening of the boy's soul by a noble ambition. In the Sistine Chapel there is a great masterpiece of Michael Angelo illustrating Adam's evolution to perfection. Though the picture is altogether ideal, yet it may be interpreted to point an apposite and practical moral lesson. Adam lies upon the ground a naked clod, dull of face, slow of comprehension, low of aspiration, an unlovely creature. Clouds lower upon him, and he will not rise. But of a sud- den God's arm is thrust through the over- hanging mists. The fingers of the divine hand touch the tips of Adam's fingers. 4 TEACHER AND TEACHING Forthwith the clouds disappear, the sun shines brightly, and the man of earth leaps erect, face uplifted, eyes flashing, the light of heaven on his brow. The touch of God has transformed him. Adam is the boy, the teacher's work is like unto God's. Adam sits before us, naked of intellect, dull of face, slow of comprehension, low of aspiration; and we are not only to touch him into a new life, but to lead him thereto, to train him into it. But how I What are to be our instru- ments? These are of two kinds, natural and supernatural. The latter have been dwelt upon so often that they do not need special discussion here. Hints about them will be thrown out from time to time. The former call for attention. Life is the great educator. Life, not books, should be a boy's study. What is it, I ask, that has contributed most to im- mortalize the great classic? Surely not the name of the author. For an author shines in the light reflected from his book. Not mere diction; for diction alone were as sounding brass and tinkling cymbal. TEACHER AND TEACHING 5 What then? The great thoughts and no- ble deeds that seem to make the pages pal- pitate. Life. Homer's is Homer's he- roes. The Prometheus of .^Eschylus is the chained hero who made a holocaust of himself for his fellow men. It is this that flames in the mind long after the music of the language has died from the ear and the beauty of the imagery has faded from the memory. It is this and kindred things that call to the best that is in man edu- cate him. From such will our pupils' draw inspiration and courage: ability to con- ceive, strength to dare. It were the veriest folly, then, a farce ridiculous beyond de- scription, to drawl through authors of whatsoever kind, content to replace a mis- placed comma, to parse a word now and then, to illustrate a figure and trace the course of a river. This may be instruc- tion; it is not education. He who works so has missed the idea of a sublime voca- tion, and his pupils lose forever a great discipline which is necessary to harmonize the warring elements within. They will not become men after the image of the 6 TEACHER AND TEACHING most perfect man. While under such guidance, their college or school life will have no meaning for them. It will be a succession of incoherent days, leading no- where; a series of stupid, meaningless tasks, with the effect of quenching the tiny, flickering soul-fire which may have been lighted in a lower class or school. So they will lose ambition and drift from us be- cause of our neglect. For they cannot live on husks. They are not of a species lower than ourselves. They are as ourselves: alive with a like life every instant : in pos- session of a soul which needs training every minute of our all too short class-term. Every instant the lesson must be given high thoughts, lofty aspirations, candor, so infrequent in these unhappy days, rev- erence, purity, unselfishness, accuracy: a labor, surely, for a lifetime. This is our task. God pity us if we neg- lect it. To ruin a boy's intellect is hideous : to spoil his character, tragic. But we shall lose no opportunity to accomplish our pur- pose. In literature, for example, we will not aim merely at words and phrases and TEACHER AND TEACHING 7 figures. We shall look below these for the chief instrument by which we are to ac- complish the end in view. We shall have praise for all that is noble, scorn for all that is base. The Trojan war will be more than a succession of battles it will be a temporal punishment of crime. The flight of ^Eneas from the burning city will be a heroic example of love and reverence to parents and those in authority. The hell of the ^Eneid and the pool of Phaedo will show, first, that reason unaided by revela- tion demands a future punishment for crime; secondly, that the Catholic dogma on this point fits in neatly with the dictates of reason and meets an instinct of nature. Then the lesson will be made actual by ref- erences to current thought and other con- temporary conditions. All this will the good teacher do, if not from love, at least from duty; for such is the demand of his profession. But to do all this the master must him- self be a man of character. He must tower over his pupils in soul power. The frog can scarcely teach the young mock- 8 TEACHER AND TEACHING ing-bird to sing. The man of low estate cannot impart high lessons to others. The touch of his finger-tips will not cause his pupils to leap erect into a new-found life. It will but leave mire and pitch on the younger finger-tips. If the high thoughts to which he gives utterance are hung on his soul by borrowed hooks, they will do more harm than good. They will gener- ate in his class-room an atmosphere of in- sincerity which is apt to destroy the very capability of a young soul for many of the virtues nowadays sadly needed, truth, for instance, and respect for authority. Teachers therefore must cultivate a great heart. Great hearts beget great hearts. Heroes generate heroes. They must have unswerving faith in the essen- tial goodness of their pupils ; they must be men of sympathy and broad view, patient, free from prejudice, forgiving, gentle yet firm, humble but confident, generous, bounteous, cordial, dignified but not stilted, enthusiastic, totally in earnest with an earnestness that comes from the convic- tion that their vocation is a gift from God TEACHER AND TEACHING 9 for which they cannot be too grateful. All this must they be, and more. They were taskmasters else, hirelings, and not as they should be, the chosen ones of God, * l to give sight to the blind," "to set free the cap- tive." Such then are the traits of the real teacher. He who possesses them will fall neither in great things nor in those smaller details in which so many are deficient. For instance, he will stand by lawful authority ; he will not shrink from the smallest duty to curry favor; he will not accept an in- exact observation, a careless statement, a half truth. He will not allow roughness or discourtesy to pass unrebuked, realizing that to do so were to demoralize rather than to upbuild character. The broad ocean is composed of small drops ; character is formed piece by piece, from thoughts and words and deeds that come from out the soul and go back again to fashion it unto good or evil. Each morning the master will go forth to his work with hope and courage, firm in the conviction that he is to accomplish some- 10 TEACHER AND TEACHING thing sublime. No difficulty will frighten him, no material, be it ever so unpromis- ing, will dishearten him. The Providence of God is his mantle, the faith which teaches him that there are divine possibili- ties in every soul, his staff. He will in- sist with himself that the roughest soul may be fashioned "into a vessel of elec- tion." The Florentines are exceedingly proud of their great statue of David, and rightly so, for it is a thing of beauty. Yet behold its origin! Michael Angelo had pondered well the life of God's hero. He had medi- tated on his virtues, rejoiced in his great deeds, sorrowed in his trials, until his soul re-lived David's life so long and faithfully that David's image was stamped hard and fast, every feature of it, on his mind. Then the sculptor went forth in quest of material in which to embody that picture. He found it on a scrap heap, a cast-off piece of marble. Slowly and patiently he worked on that despised material, watch- ing every line that appeared thereon. Soon a form began to emerge, faint and rough TEACHER AND TEACHING 11 at first, but gradually yielding under skil- ful blow and touch to something finer and still finer, until at last David stood forth, so fair and lifelike that he seemed ready to grasp his sling and slay a monster. An artist had conceived a hero and reproduced a hero from castaway material. Christian teachers should do likewise. They should conceive unto themselves Christ, their prototype, the great teacher. They should ponder His life, burn His im- age into their souls, till it becomes a flam- ing, leaping thing which must communi- cate itself to others. Then the most un- promising material will yield to their in- fluence. The breath of a new life will en- ter it. A new image will appear therein, weak and blurred at first, but growing slowly in shape and beauty, until at last the fair Christ is reproduced in another human soul. The teachers' work is done. Generations will call them blessed. CHAPTER II TRUE EDUCATION MANY men in many professions score a failure in life. The teacher's profession seems especially fruitful of wrecks. Though there are many contributing causes to ill success in this vocation, yet there is one which is generally eminent amongst all others. Young men fired with enthusiasm for a noble cause approach their task without a definite idea of the work of a true educator. They do not set a right standard for themselves. They en- ter the class-room intent on suppressing disorder, teaching syntax and anything else which may happen to be on their sched- ule. The printed card on which are listed subjects and periods, and the few instruc- tions which the head master may vouch- safe to give, are their sole directive agents. 12 TEACHER AND TEACHING 13 Books learned piecemeal have been their preceptors. Bealities are lost in a haze. It never occurs to them that each lesson should be a step towards the realization of a great scheme, the production of a no- ble man. They teach Latin, and they teach Greek, but beyond the Latin and the Greek there does not loom up in all his sublime proportions the man whom they should strive to form. Hence their work is un- inspired, undirected, haphazard, worth- less. For success follows only on well- rounded ideals prudently elaborated. So it is in all arts and sciences, and teaching is both one and the other. The successful artist first conceives every important de- tail of the masterpiece, and after that works under the inspiration and guidance of his exemplar. The architect concludes that a church should catch up the soul from earth by impressing it with the idea of God's might and sublimity, with reverence and devotion. Then he draws upon the canvas of his soul a picture of the mighty Gothic temple, with its great nave and huge pillars symbolic of sublimity and 14 TEACHER AND TEACHING might, its towering turrets and well-pro- portioned arches symbolic of prayer. He executes his design and man's soul is sat- isfied. The work is a success. Do not painter and sculptor act likewise? Pic- ture and statue are both the realization of a proper conception. Should either man attempt to work without an ideal, the ef- fect would be monstrous, and that, too, not from lack of natural ability or train- ing, but from sheer absence of the ideal. A certain English painter executed ex- quisite portraits of high-born dames, but failed lamentably in his "Holy Family." The lesson lies on the surface. A teacher with a like defect will be deficient in his work, and failure in education is far more serious both for educator and pupil than failure in most other vocations. For in education we deal with an immortal soul. Its fate is in our hands. Its destiny is bound up with our work. We are to fash- ion it either into a vessel of glory or in- famy, and in the fashioning lies our re- ward or punishment; more often the lat- ter than the former, we fear. TEACHER AND TEACHING 15 To make the situation more portentous, character once deformed in natural traits is apt to remain deformed therein forever. Few men retrace their boyhood steps to set right early mistakes. Few recognize their shortcomings, fewer still know how to correct them, fewest are inclined to do so. Hence the teacher's task is as far above the architect's and painter's and sculptor's as the human soul is above wood and stone and canvas and pigments. He must then labor under the influence of the highest and most definite idea of the aim of his work. For this he must realize what true edu- cation is. Real education is a process of guiding a human being from a state of im- perfection to a state of perfection. It is the development of man according to the highest attainable standards, the disci- pline of soul and body into the best that can be had. Such a process concerns itself with every part of the pupil : with the body and the senses, with the soul and all its powers. Since each individual faculty is the servant of the whole man, and man is 16 TEACHER AND TEACHING % the slave of none, all must be developed harmoniously. If one be cultivated at the expense of another, the fine equilibrium which should be the most cherished posses- sion of every educated man, is lost. If body and senses be cultivated at the expense of the higher faculties, the result is either a fox or a mere athlete, creatures equally unlovely. If the intellect is trained at the cost of the will, the outcome is a rascal. If the imagination be fostered to the neg- lect of the other faculties, the product is a mild lunatic. If memory alone be strengthened, we have a machine. If the will receives all attention, behold a fanatic or a pious dolt! God's purpose cannot be thwarted without sad effect, and God did not intend man to be a gladiator only, nor a mere scholar, nor simply an upright man, but a perfect combination of all: a lithe and active body, acute senses, a powerful intellect, a virtuous heart; such His de- mand. But how accomplish all this? As re- gards the body, little need be said. In the TEACHER AND TEACHING 17 years of adolescence a primal instinct im- parted by the Creator for the purpose guides youths in this matter. It were well to study this instinct and follow its dic- tates, curbing now, stimulating again. Thus the body will be trained; and the whole interest of the college, faculty and students included, will not centre round an inflated bag or a willow club. The senses require more consideration. English em- pirical philosophy has led to many excesses in their regard. They have absorbed and are absorbing entirely too much attention. On the other hand they must not be under- rated. They are agents of caution and ac- curacy, and consequently promote good thinking, indirectly at least. Moreover, as everybody knows, there is an intimate connection between them and the exceed- ingly important imagination. The blind and the deaf, for instance, are forever shut out from certain intellectual gifts. By all means then cultivate the senses. For this manual training is good. However it is not the only means. Accurate observa- 18 TEACHER AND TEACHING tion in field and street, care in reading and writing play a splendid second in the process. This brings us to the consideration of faculties which present more intricate dif- ficulties. False psychology and ethics lead to many blunders here. Sometimes the memory is neglected, very frequently the imagination, most frequently the will. What, now, should our attitude be? To begin with the memory: first, no one should doubt the importance of this fac- ulty. It is a real handmaid, on whose ac- tion most of the higher powers of the soul depend in a marked degree. A weak mem- ory is often a manacle to a quick intelli- gence, and a sieve through which the finest fruits of the imagination filter. So it must be cultivated. There are two ways of doing this, one indirect, the other direct. Clear, accurate, noble thinking constitutes the first. Such thoughts exercise a salu- tary influence on every faculty. Exercise is the second, rational exercise on matter which is so beautiful and easy of compre- hension that one who runs will understand TEACHER AND TEACHING 19 and love it. As is clear, great care should be taken to prevent the memorizing from becoming a mere process of gorging and the repetition a species of regurgitation. For these would promote mental slovenli- ness and torpor of the reason. Hardly less important than the memory is the imagination, a truly noble but rest- less and at times wayward faculty, which is easily elevated and as easily debased. By it man can live with angels and saints or wallow with the animal. Without it he would be little better than a statistician or the dry-as-dust scientist who described noble grief in terms of chemical notation. Literature would be a poor thing indeed without rich and varied imagery. For lit- erature is not a succession of words and phrases, nor even a collection of fine ideas. More than this is required. Pictorial and dramatic elements enter largely into its composition. Lofty thoughts and noble emotions must be clothed in superb lan- guage. Then and only then is literature born. Homer, Virgil, Dante, Milton are fascinating, if not sublime, because of the 20 TEACHER AND TEACHING superb play of the phantasy. Moreover, literature exerts its cultural influence chiefly through this same faculty. It fas- tens itself on it, and through it arouses high ideas and noble emotions. The pol- ished and elegant (Edipus frequently has less humanistic effect than the more rugged Prometheus or the distinctly in- ferior Hecuba, solely because the first does not appeal to many imaginations. The triumphant Achilles charioteering madly round the walls, spear in hand, and then disappearing through the flaming breach, followed by hosts of lusty warriors; the giant staring savagely into Ulysses' face with that one awful eye; the white-sailed galleys speeding swiftly on as strong oars- men " smite the sounding furrows;" dis- torted, shaggy-maned, long-fanged mon- sters appearing above the foaming waves and dragging frightened men from their places to a certain death; these and kin- dred or more sublime pictures are the ele- ments that thrill the youthful soul and eventually win it to appreciation of the higher realities and the more subtle feel- TEACHER AND TEACHING 21 ings of Homer, Virgil, Dante, Milton. The imagination then is the agent of noble work, and every instrument should be called into requisition to train it. Litera- ture, painting, music, the drama, natural scenery are all potent factors in purifying it and stimulating it. There yet remain two faculties to be considered. The first in order is the intel- lect. Of this so much can be said that too much is apt to be said. To forefend against such a defect we shall confine our remarks to some general hints. The aim of a college is not to train specialists ; that belongs to professional schools. Neither should a college strive to store the intellect with facts. Eather its effort should be ex- erted to give pupils a love of learning, a desire to be learned, and a knowledge of how to become so. An illustration will make our contention clear. In a college there are two sets of men. First, there are brilliant fellows who perform their daily tasks well. Their repetitions are perfect: they solve problems, marshal dates, ana- lyze passages in a most satisfactory fash- 22 TEACHER AND TEACHING ion, and, as a consequence, are graduated with honors. But their laurels are scarce a month old before learning begins to pall on them. Books and all other means of education are neglected, and intellectual progress ceases. The second class is com- posed of plodders who labor hard with in- different success, often stumble, but never lose heart. They too are graduated but not with honor. However, they go forth from the college determined to continue the discipline of soul, and in time, by dint of hard, persistent labor, they become men of culture and learning. The former were not educated, the latter were. The former were neither disciplined nor taught how to discipline themselves. Their minds were sponges, which absorbed and exuded ma- terial under pressure of a perceptorial stimulus. The latter, however, were dis- ciplined and taught how to discipline themselves. They received a college train- ing. To accomplish this every legitimate means should be employed. Every study is useful. Each gives some aid: mathe- TEACHER AND TEACHING 23 matics, caution and accuracy; physical sci- ence, alertness and accuracy too; history, high ideals ; and so on for other branches. They must be used prudently, however. One is not to be given unfair advantage over another, for undue progress in one direction means a halt in another. Then too the best that is in a subject should be brought out. Mathematics is not a page of notation ; history is not a series of facts. Beneath the one is a logic to be unfolded; beneath the other, ethics to be laid bare. Every element in a subject should be brought to bear on a boy's mind. Litera- ture, for example, should furnish ethical, historical, literary, textual aids to the work. Not many of the last however lest digammas and iota-subscripts obscure the more valuable factors. The will alone, the storm-centre of many disputes, remains for discussion. To our mind there is no objective reason for any difference of opinion about the training of this faculty. It needs education and should get it. There is impulsiveness to be checked, stubbornness to be softened, pet- 24 TEACHER AND TEACHING tiness to be stifled, and so on through a long category. There are a thousand ways of effecting all this. But in order that a teacher may use them to advantage he must know the character of each pupil and adapt the methods to the individual. All cannot be treated alike. Twin brothers may be as different in disposition as lambs and crocodiles. And the master is not a herder, but a trainer of souls. Skilful repetitions will furnish many oc- casions for efficient work on the will. A rebuke here, a word of encouragement there, a playful remark now, an insinua- tion again, are all useful in their proper place. All should be used as prudence and need dictate. Then there are the great disciplines which appeal to the highest that is in the human soul. In the natural order there are appeals to honor and self-respect and patriotism and love of parents and college, and a thousand others which find an echo in the human heart. Such things should not be neglected. Though not the best, they are yet noble. They are nat- ural, it is true. But is nature bad? Is TEACHER AND TEACHING 25 not the supernatural built up on the nat- ural? How often are we not taunted with the accusation that a bad Catholic is the worst of men ! If this be true, may not the reason lie in the fact that when the slender cord which bound him to Heaven broke, there was nothing to fall back upon, simply because the natural virtues had been scorned by his teachers f Of course the great means for our work are supernatural. For there are defects in the human soul which only the plummet of revealed religion can sound, crevices which only the light from God's face can illuminate and cleanse. Religion alone stirs the soul to its very depths, lifts it out of itself and cleanses it of sin and the de- sire of sin. Even so slight a part of re- ligion as the more simple devotions are of incalculable value in education. The saint who was as ourselves, weak and perchance sinful, stands before the boy in transcen- dent glory. The young soul goes out to the holy one of God in admiration, affec- tion. Now love is aroused, now intense reverence, now pity or mercy, or desire of 26 TEACHER AND TEACHING emulation: all, in short, that purifies, sub- dues, and yet elevates. Here then is our great educator: reli- gion, doctrine and practice, too; gently urged, sweetly accomplished. For religion is life also. We must insist on all this. For often the soul must leap up from the slime of earth, and to whom shall it bound, save to God the Father, Searcher of hearts, the Dispenser of the wine of love, and the oil of mercy? This then is education, a process of perfecting man, body and soul, by all the means which nature and grace can furnish. But where shall we find our exemplar f He breathes through the pages of Holy Writ. CHAPTER III THE IDEAL TEACHER TRUE education is generally the work of skilful teachers. Since the former is a pearl without price, the value of the latter can scarcely be overestimated. In view of this, a consideration of the qualities of an ideal master will not be out of place. The subject, of course, is large, too large for adequate treatment in the short space which can be allotted to it. Hence the most that can be done is to jot down a few re- marks in the hope that they will open up a line of thought which can be followed out later. So to begin. By virtue of his office, the real educator should, first of all, be a gen- tleman. The reasons for this are too ob- vious to demand discussion. Not so, how- ever, the elements which go to constitute a 27 28 TEACHER AND TEACHING gentleman. They are many and complex. Some are small and easily neglected, some large and difficult of acquisition and re- tention. All are important. In the for- mer class are many which delicacy and a sense of propriety exclude from public dis- cussion. There are others about which a passing word is better than a disquisition. For no teacher would tolerate without in- dignation insistence on the necessity of simple, chaste language, free from the taint of slang and provincialism, and an accu- rate, unaffected pronunciation. The finer instincts in which all people of the profes- sion share alike are sufficient guarantees for correctness in these matters. But this cannot be said of other necessary char- acteristics. For sometimes in the stress and strain of work both instinct and train- ing fail us. This is especially true in re- gard to courtesy, to which are closely linked frankness and openness of mind, qualities by which the good influence of a teacher is largely buttressed. Strange though it may appear, it is just here that teachers are so apt to fail. By its very nature their TEACHER AND TEACHING 29 profession tends to make them exceedingly dogmatic and sensitive of correction. They spend a great part of their life in contact with inferior minds, which they must often coerce into knowledge. From sheer necessity of being dictatorial on oc- casions they are apt to become habitually and arrogantly so. Their dogmatism often exceeds all bounds, even the bounds of truth. The intellectual evils of this are deplorable enough, but the moral effect is well nigh disastrous. Frankness slips away and cunning and untruthfulness, the refuge of cowards, and unfairness to ad- versaries develop. The mind is closed to all suggestion and correction and improve- ment. It has become sufficient to itself, and woe betide the pupil who catches his master napping and dares to throw even a pale, flickering light on an official blunder. Cujusvis hominis est errare, nullius, nisi insipientis, in errore perseverare, is a ped- agogical heresy. This would not be so bad did it not tend to generate prejudice, a fault so common amongst teachers that it seems to be a 30 TEACHER AND TEACHING schoolmaster's peculiar heritage. The harm which this defect works is beyond computation. It erects an unscalable adamantine wall between master and dis- ciple, begets distrust and ill feeling on both sides, snuffs out the teacher's desire to better the condition of his charges, closes the boy's heart against the man and often engenders in the young soul contempt for the master and all that he stands for, how- ever sacred. Nor does the evil end here. The boy is fired with a sense of wrong, obsessed with the idea of injustice, real or imaginary, and does not hesitate to speak his thoughts, thus begetting dislike for the school in the minds of parents and pros- pective pupils. The teacher too plays his role in the drama of further mischief. He speaks unkindly, often unjustly of his pu- pils. Minds are poisoned against them, and as a consequence they must meet a hostile and oftentimes militant prejudice all along the line of travel. Thus souls are warped and perchance ruined because the teacher has not the self-control of a gentle- man. Even though the process of destruc- TEACHER AND TEACHING 31 tion may not proceed as far as this, yet the evil is always great. For the teacher who alienates his pupils from him labors under a tremendous disadvantage. Strive as he may to better conditions, boys ' motives for study are seldom high. Few study from a sense of duty, fewer from fear or hope of reward, fewest from love of books. Many, however, will work out of admira- tion and love of the professor, who should strive to gain the respect and affection of his pupils so that he may hold the key to their wills for noble purposes. But this is a digression. Courtesy will bear further analysis with- out being exhausted. In the first place it is well to bear in mind that this fine flower of religion does not consist in soft accents, graceful bows and gentle smiles. It lies below the surface. It is an instinct of a cultivated soul, proportionate to the good- ness thereof, and shows itself in a thou- sand ways, such as by respect for superi- ors, the aged, the opinions, feeling, rights and legitimate habits of others, and all that. Here then is one of a gentleman's 32 TEACHER AND TEACHING chief assets, and no teacher can dispense with it. Moreover a gentleman, and hence an ideal teacher, must be tactful, calm, not impulsive, simple of manner, not affected, large of mind in all things, not small: in short, so well disciplined as to be perfectly balanced. Those who would pursue this subject further would do well to ponder Newman's description, excising a phrase or two and adding to all the perfection of Christian charity. The other traits of a perfect teacher are numerous. For the sake of clearness they can be divided into two classes, natural and supernatural. Amongst the former ability stands pre- eminent. Like courtesy, this quality sug- gests many ideas; some in reference to the intellect, others in regard to the will. That a teacher should be intellectual goes without saying. The classroom is no place for a dolt or an ill-trained man. The true master must have natural ability which has been cultivated long and assiduously. His subject matter must be a part of his life and he must be able to present it simply, TEACHER AND TEACHING 33 clearly, directly, correctly. If it is hazy in his mind, it will be thick on his lips and foggy in the minds of his boys. If he finds difficulty in clothing his ideas in words and does so awkwardly, his listeners will have greater difficulty in grasping his meaning. If he is inaccurate, his charges will be an abomination of desolation in this regard. If he is disorderly and inconsequent in presentation, his pupils will be the despair of all future teachers. An illogical mind is almost as incorrigible as the devil. Learning, order, conciseness, clearness, simplicity, power to amuse without dis- tracting, therefore, are some of the quali- ties a successful educator should have. Such an equipment requires hard thought and perpetual study for acquisi- tion and upkeep and profitable use. The moment a man ceases to reflect and study, in that instant he lapses from a teacher to a mouther of words. No matter how learned he may be, he stands in need of proximate preparation for class. With- out this his ideas will inevitably be vague, loose, inconsequent. Moreover sciences 34 TEACHER AND TEACHING grow. Then too there is constant need of remoulding old knowledge to meet new con- ditions. New illustrations must always be sought. The Parthians and Medes are dead a bit too long to interest American boys. The teacher must study always, not by books alone, but by accurate observa- tion also, and by attendance at lectures, and so forth. This brings our discussion to another group of characteristics of a perfect mas- ter. They may be called moral for they pertain to the will. They fall naturally into two classes, a minor and a major. In the former are found justice, fortitude, the mother of perseverance and good disci- pline, kindness and patience. These are indispensable. The teacher's position is unprofitable and intolerable without them. Year after year his life is cast amongst un- trained youths of all sorts of dispositions and habits. Some are jealous and are con- tinually on the alert for the least sign of favoritism. Some are clamorously bold and stand in need of stiff rebukes. Some are weak and timid and long for sympathy TEACHER AND TEACHING 35 and encouragement. Some are lazy and require the lash. Some are petulant ; some impulsive; others are querulous, others again coarse. Some are untruthful, others politic. All are imperfect in a thousand diverse ways and degrees. The teacher must meet all these different exigencies quietly, calmly, effectively, bending now one way, now another,. smoothing a wrinkle here, levelling a mountain there, till at last the soul committed to his care is normal, if not supernormal. The major and last class of moral quali- ties can be summed up in one word, godli- ness. The ungodly man is entirely out of place in a classroom. He himself is stunted, deformed and cannot form others. His soul is unsymmetrical and he may com- municate his amorphism to others. He lacks the last and most potent touch re- quired for perfection, the touch of God. The Os sublime is not his. His horizon is narrowed to earth. His thoughts are of gold and beef and beer and cheese, and alas! sin. If he be true to his principles he will be an insufferable egoist. Indeed, 36 TEACHER AND TEACHING human respect or lack of logic alone will save him from this, and both are equally undesirable in a trainer of men. Life will begin with himself and end with himself. His whims and passions will be his laws, and as far as he can effect it, everybody else's laws. God and state and individual will be so many objects for his personal aggrandizement, irrespective of his duties and their rights. Logically all his tenden- cies will be distinctly anti-social. Such is the natural outcome of selfishness. And ungodliness, to put it at its lowest, is the supremest selfishness, frantic egotism which outrages every sense of decency and justice, unseats God and puts self on the throne for which man should be the foot- stool. Away then with the ungodly teacher. Give us rather the man of God, reverent, high-minded, devout. In such there is a power for good, not of earth, but of Heaven. These then are some of the chief char- acteristics of the ideal master. He can be aptly described in words adapted from Plato's "Kepublic," as a lover of all wis- TEACHER AND TEACHING 37 dom, a man with a taste for every kind of knowledge and an insatiable desire to learn; one who has greatness of soul and a well proportioned mind, quick to learn and to retain ; a spectator of all times and all existence, noble and gracious, the friend of truth, justice, courage, temperance. All which we cap with the word, godly. Such the teacher. Great, noble, consol- ing is his task. Workers on marble may live to see their work perish, builders of temples may watch their masterpieces crumble in the dust : teachers will have the consolation of beholding the temple of God, the shrine of the Holy Ghost which they helped to raise and sustain in human souls, stand for eternity, in dazzling light, a mon- ument of their zeal and a tribute to their nobility. CHAPTER IV METHODS OF TEACHING THE teacher who reflects on his work and experiences will probably be confronted by a phenomenon which is becoming all too common in these latter days. As he muses there will pass before his mind a shuffling army of boys who were at once his care and his despair. They were likely lads in many ways. Physically they were sound, morally they were upright. But intellectually they were impossible, and this, too, not through lack, of native ability, but rather through sheer absence of ambi- tion. At first blush this phenomenon seems puzzling, but it loses its obscurity once we call upon our larger experiences for a solution. As we go through life we meet many men of many races and characters, and amongst 38 TEACHER AND TEACHING 39 this motley throng are some who are exact counterparts of our smug schoolboys. They too are vigorous of frame, virtuous and amiable, but as inactive as the sloth, which will never move from its favorite tree save under the impulse of hunger. Conversation will soon reveal the secret of their torpor. They have few or no ideas, and those which they have are small and borrowed, and worn from prior use by many other intellectual parasites. As a consequence the will is not stimulated to great desires and sturdy deeds. It has no motive power. Thoughts are few and lit- tle and outworn, and desires and acts are commensurate with them, no better, no worse. For the will follows on after the intellect. Our friends are like well-built ships which lie at anchor in the harbor, rising and falling listlessly on each wave, and rotting, too, for lack of fuel to propel them. Now, though this condition is often due in part to character and careless home training, yet inefficient teaching more often plays a large part in accomplishing it. The 40 TEACHER AND TEACHING school-room is too frequently the grave of mental power and hope and ambition. For there are two ways of teaching, and one of them is fatal to intellectual life. It ruins the very vitality of the mind and leaves it jaded and prostrate. This method is an unnatural process of stuffing unaccom- panied by digestion. The teacher hastily loads his own intellect with ill-sorted, un- assimilated odds and ends of knowledge, and by dint of great physical exertion worthy of a stevedore, pitches shred after shred, patch after patch, chunk after chunk into the tender minds of the pupils. Men- tal dyspepsia, with all its lamentable re- sults, such as disgust for learning, follows. Euin is at hand. For the process is violent and unnatural. By it the mind is contin- ually overloaded and weighed down with debris of all sorts. It cannot react on its contents ; they subjugate it, curb it, smother it, kill its initiative, condemn it to a pas- sivity which in the end destroys its appe- tite for knowledge, and puts in its stead a tendency to nausea at the very sight of a book or the sound of a teacher's voice. A TEACHER AND TEACHING 41 much abused stomach will refuse to per- form its functions ; so will a maltreated in- tellect. There is scarcely need of laboring this point further. However, it can be illus- trated from an analogy with a partially true example from the social life of ants. Amongst these wonderful insects there are certain individuals, the "repletes," which hang from the roof of the nest chamber, day in and day out, with crop full of food. They themselves assimilate only a tiny por- tion of the supply, just enough to keep them alive. Sparing towards themselves, they are prodigal towards others. As they hang in their forced position, worker after worker approaches them to have food pumped into the crop. Should the repletes die, the workers are at a loss for their daily sustenance, and death often overtakes them. Now, though this is not all exactly square with facts, yet it exemplifies the main point at issue. The teacher is the replete, the pupil is the worker. Deprive the pupil of the support of the teacher and his fate is mental stagnation and volitional 42 TEACHER AND TEACHING inactivity from which he cannot rebound, for that the mind has lost its elasticity through abuse. Things would be far dif- ferent if a rational method of teaching had been employed, a method of guidance and suggestion, under which the mind increases both its appetite for knowledge and its rel- ish for it. Here, as every place else, nature offers excellent suggestions for the success of our work, and a moment's reflection will re- veal all of them to us. The appetite of the mind bears a striking resemblance to the appetite of the body. In youth both are keen. They require little stimulus, and the relish consequent on their satisfaction is great. They wane with increasing years and often need a spur. What, now, is the attitude of a mother or nurse with regard to the bodily appetite of the child ? Stuff- ing, gorging, is not tolerated. Food suit- able in quantity and quality to the age and condition of the child is given in a decent, rational manner. Whenever necessary, stimulus is exerted to promote the desire for nourishment. Through gradual train- TEACHER AND TEACHING 43 ing the boy is brought to know his own needs and capacity, and the manner of sat- isfying himself, according to changing cir- cumstances. In other words, he is edu- cated to a point where he relies on his own resources so prudently that his conduct en- sures his growth and vigor. This is just the way the mind must be trained. In this case at least, art and science too must follow na- ture and help it. The teacher must exer- cise the utmost care to preserve and in- crease the natural appetite of the mind, by imparting suitable knowledge in a suit- able way, guiding rather than forcing, un- til at last the intellect becomes strong, pliable, full of initiative and resourceful- ness, and is set free from preceptors, eager and able to stimulate and satisfy its legitimate tendencies. But how can this be accomplished? Many means are available. Perhaps Aris- totle gives us the best suggestion in their regard by stating that wisdom has its be- ginning in wonder. The old sage was right, as anybody who has ever seen a class of boys pass from a lesson in calculus to 44 TEACHER AND TEACHING experiments in chemistry or physics will realize. Nodding heads are prominent in the former case, bulging eyes in the second. Here then is our first cue. For wonder is the mother of interest, and interest fosters enthusiasm. These had, half the difficulty in education is overcome. Therefore, the first effort of a wise teacher should be to arouse interest and enthusiasm in his pu- pils. Now, he will never accomplish this unless he himself is enthusiastic over his work. Taskmasters whose only ambition is a salary can never draw a spark from the souls of the young. Drive they may, inspire they cannot. The teacher's enthu- siasm depends in large measure on his love for his vocation and his knowledge of his subject. A man who does not love his work should give it up. The sooner the better, both for himself and his charges. But love is not sufficient for success. Knowledge of the matter and the pupils must be added to it. It is well-nigh criminal for an ig- norant person to enter a classroom. It is stupid for a ready man to teach without due regard for the ability and character TEACHER AND TEACHING 45 of his pupils. In both cases failure will be the inevitable result. No man can teach what he does not know well, and no man can teach what he does know well to those whom he does not know well. As soon as a master draws near the edge of this knowl- edge, his manner loses vigor and conviction and becomes timid and halting. Embar- rassment replaces confidence, and embar- rassment is contagious, if not infectious. At any rate, there is no room for enthu- siasm in such a situation. Travel over a rugged mountain road in dim twilight, in charge of an inexperienced guide, is not exhilarating either for the guide or his company. The teacher's knowledge should be broad and accurate. Mere specialists may be very well in their place, but their place is not the class-room of a high school or college. Men who have spent the forma- tive period of their lives under them look at the world and life through a pin-hole. Moreover few specialists are good teach- ers, few are even good conversationalists. They are apt to smack a bit of glorified, 46 TEACHER AND TEACHING self-sufficient mechanics. Nor is it enough to know only the pages of an author. Such a knowledge is hardly worthy of the name. The teacher who learns mathematics page by page, and Homer or Virgil line by line, without assimilating the logic of the one and the spirit of the other, is an insuffer- able bore. The work he does could be done as well by a phonograph. Mathematics and literature will be dead things in his keeping. He will teach isolated proposi- tion after isolated proposition, and his pu- pils will learn isolated propositions, and that will be the end of it. The master will never think of pointing out sequences, the relation of part to part, the logical growth of proofs. Pivotal propositions will be omitted or explained without reference to their consequences, yet it is precisely in elements of this kind that the value of mathematics in a scheme of general edu- cation lies. Its chief function is to train the intellect not to jump in the dark, but to step cautiously and on firm ground, un- der full light. Disjecta membra torn from a finely articulated body of truth will never TEACHER AND TEACHING 47 accomplish that. They will overload the memory, smother the reason. Nor will literature fare better. Homer and Virgil, Cicero and Demosthenes, Ju- venal and Horace will be searched and re- searched, ploughed and furrowed for ex- amples of hendiadys and prolepsis, and what not, all good in their places, to the utter neglect of all else. The hunter stalks the forest and uses powder and shot on the mosquito, while the deer run off in safety. Risum teneatis, amid! The reason for this is ignorance, or indif- ference, or both. To be sure, no one should underrate grammar and rhetoric. They are necessary and powerful factors in ed- ucation. Students of Greek, for instance, will have their power of discrimination enormously enlarged by an intelligent study of conditional sentences. But then the sum and substance of education does not lie in the ability to explain a grammatical puzzle, or to turn an elegant sentence, for there are things other than climaxes, anti- climaxes, figures and metres and unities. There are higher realities than these, more 48 TEACHER AND TEACHING subtle agencies of power and expression. We plead for them: the things behind the veil of language, the joys, the sorrows, the comedies, the tragedies, the failures, the successes, the virtues, the passions of life, that they may enter into the soul and stir it and inspire it and smite it and prick it and tease it and harass it and frighten it ; in short, castigate it. For these we plead : all the elements of art, science, life which conduce to the formation of a man. A corpse is uninspiring. Literature should not be converted into one. It should be used for what it is, a record of the live works of live men. Through it souls should be brought into contact with souls. The boy should live with the hero ' 'four-square to every wind that blows," the real hero un- idealized. Fairies which peer over the garden walls of the lotus-eaters interest none save poets and mystics. Thus will the young soul grow. It can- not touch life without response. It thinks the better from experience of good think- ing ; it aspires the higher from contact with high aspirations; it loves the better from TEACHER AND TEACHING 49 glimpses of pure love ; it throbs the faster from contact with strenuous life. It ex- pands and contracts, adds and prunes un- der the inspiration which can be caught up from beneath the words on which petti- fogging masters spend weary hours, only to send forth pupils with the physique of giants and the mind and character of suck- lings Bless the mark! both marks, teacher and pupil, too. But this is only the first means of rous- ing the pupil to study. There are some others which deserve at least a passing mention. Amongst these are numbered emulation, prizes, marks and punishments. The first two claim a few words ; the others can be treated at another time. All teachers have at least a speculative knowledge of the evils which can attend on emulation. Many writers on pedagogy, more voluble than experienced, have painted them in vivid colors. But then it is easy enough to sit clad in dressing-gown and slippers before a grate fire, formulate a proposition, dub it a conclusion and in- vent arguments to support it. A year or 50 TEACHER AND TEACHING two of classroom drudgery would cure this pernicious habit. Emulation has dangers. It has been abused, and out of the abuse have grown disgusting egotism, selfish- ness, unfairness, jealousy, pettiness of all kinds. But abuse never supersedes use. Otherwise we should be obliged to give up everything, save death. Emulation is an instinct with youths, and cannot be obliter- ated save by converting our boys into mum- mies or marble statues. Moreover, it is a most powerful incentive to industry and progress, while an attempt to eradicate it would have many ridiculous consequences. First, repetitions would be abolished ; then, all those healthful games which have fos- tered and developed in the American boy so many of his finest qualities, such as en- durance, bravery, resourcefulness, cour- tesy to opponents and manliness under de- feat. Better direct it into ethical channels, and keep it there until through it the boy has developed all the noble characteristics for which it offers so fine a chance. This can be done by appealing rather to interior than exterior motives. For true emula- TEACHER AND TEACHING 51 tion does not consist so much in trying to outdo another, as in trying to outdo one- self. Its motive is not chagrin over an- other's success, but a noble, unselfish de- sire to improve one's own status. The boy should be taught to keep his eye on his own record, not on his neighbor's, with a view of scoring a point on himself. How- ever, exterior motives should not be neg- lected entirely. They are good, especially those which appeal to the instinct for play, and tend to pit a large number against a large number, not one against one. Emu- lation thus managed is no more dangerous to character than a friendly, unprofes- sional game of baseball or football. Prizes, too, have come in for their share of bitter denunciation. Here again use is confounded with abuse. In themselves they are not evil. Even our Lord held out the hope of reward, temporal and eter- nal, to those who were fighting the battle of life. That there has been excess in this matter is only too patent. In some places cheap premiums are still as numerous as they were last century in "fitting schools," 52 TEACHER AND TEACHING where young ladies learned to paint woolly trees and speak poor French. The prize is everything : the end and the motive. Of course, this is baneful in the extreme. It places the pupil in a false atmosphere by teaching him to depend entirely on reward and not on duty, honor and such high mo- tives. The results will be a false notion of values, consequent on the undue empha- sis which has been placed on material suc- cess; and greed and unfairness, and all those wretched traits observable in men who measure success in life by a full wallet and the possession of a dozen automobiles. But all this is reason, not for the abolition of rewards, but for their prudent use. They are good in their place. Let them play the part of extremely subordinate mo- tives, and be of such a kind that large num- bers of the class can enter the competition for them with hope of success, and their effect will be salutary. In conclusion, every good method of teaching should tend to arouse interest and enthusiasm in the boy, and keep both at TEACHER AND TEACHING 58 white heat until all the complex elements of an educated man have begun to fasten themselves securely in the young soul. Thus will teaching be fruitful of good. CHAPTER V SUSTAINED mental alertness has at least two aggravating characteristics. It is hard to acquire and difficult to retain. Yet unless a teacher succeeds in keeping the intellects of his pupils active, he will labor in vain to educate them. Their minds will become spongy. A process of absorption and evaporation will set in. Spontaneous action will give way to mech- anism. Growth will cease and with it education. Hence a conscientious mas- ter must bend every effort to preserve, strengthen and increase the interest which he has aroused in his pupils' minds at the cost of so much thought and labor. This can only be done by constant stimulus, and since no one can give what he does not pos- sess, the teacher must first of all keep his 54 TEACHER AND TEACHING 55 own mind fresh and active. This is not an easy task. On the contrary, the circum- stances of a teacher's life make it ex- tremely difficult. Routine and monotony fall to the share of workers in the class- room in full measure. The former weaves a pall to cover the mind, the latter frames a mould in which to confine or encase it. The effect is stagnation, which is often aug- mented by physical inactivity consequent on advancing years or indiscreet bookish- ness. The pall and the mould and the physical inactivity must have no part in a teacher's life. If they do, he will become a veritable prig, venerable and dignified perchance, but withal statuesque and more ornamental than useful. He will live a life so far apart from his pupils' that they will look upon him as a relic of an age happily past, while he in turn will view them as gnomes or mimes in a pantomime, which pass and re- pass before the eye much after the fashion of images which haunt a fever-racked brain. Their needs and moods and diffi- culties and aspirations will never enter his 56 TEACHER AND TEACHING horizon. He will have no horizon, or if he has, it will be low and narrow and alto- gether determined by his own personality. His interests will be himself. He will withdraw within himself more and more each day, until finally he will spend a large part of his time in pursuit of the phantoms of an eccentric soul. No very great power of imagination is required to picture the result. He will lose interest in his boys, they will lose interest in him and in the principles and studies of which he is the official exponent. His lectures and explanations will not vary one jot or tittle from year to year. They will be reeled off phonographically without change of tone, without gesture, without facial expression. Everything will fall from his lips, heavy, unanimated and uninspiring. His words have long since ceased to be the language of a soul rich in thought and fraught with noble emotions, and have degenerated into a noise as interesting as the buzz of bees on an oppressive day. Jokes and illustra- tions hoary with years and feeble through TEACHER AND TEACHING 57 constant use will be read from yellow mar- gins of ragged note books. The statue speaks but its auditors wish it far, far away in another world. Their inspiration comes from the imp which hovers near every boy and never fails of an opportun- ity to do a work of mischief. The mental stimulus he gives is not unto good. Fail- ure to educate is inevitable under such cir- cumstances, and that, too, simply because the teacher has fallen into a rut and as a result has become entirely impersonal or offensively personal. For an automaton is either one or other, according to the dis- position and viewpoint of the spectator. This point cannot be labored too much. For in this monotony and listlessness lies a teacher's crux. All good teaching is intensely alive with a commanding personality. To be success- ful, a live, noble man must put himself into words. He must strip his subject matter clear of the useless accretions of centuries, modernize it, assimilate it, vitalize it, elec- trify it into life and send it from his heart vibrant, palpitating, enriched with life, his 58 TEACHER AND TEACHING life, his individuality. Moreover in doing so he must appeal to the whole man : to the eye by gesture and diagram and facial ex- pression; to the ear by tones; to the im- agination by word pictures ; to the intellect by simple, cogent reasoning ; to the will by moral lessons, the greatest of which is his own life. For the man is to be trained, not the eye nor the ear, but the man, the whole creature, composite of body and soul. The problem involved in this can be solved not by books, but by and through the teacher only. His life is his pupils' life, his stupor, their stupor. All this requires great and persistent effort. But then work is more than a teacher's pleasure; it is his duty. Teach- ers are only too apt to forget this. As soon as they begin to feel tolerably sure of tenure of office they are inclined to lapse into utter indifference, which they justify to themselves by ethics as fanciful as it is ineffective. For plead as they may, the ul- timate resolution of all arguments leaves untouched the hard undeniable fact that prolonged, wilful neglect on the part of a TEACHER AND TEACHING 59 teacher is a crime. By the very nature of his profession he has entered into a serious contract, mediate or immediate, by which he agrees to give his best in return for re- muneration. Wilful neglect constitutes a deliberate violation of this serious agree- ment and no amount of casuistry can jus- tify or extenuate the offence. It is useless to argue that parents expect some inef- ficiency. For even were this true, it is quite beside the point. Inefficiency is not neglect. Moreover in this matter the teacher himself is responsible for his class. The shadow of his superior officer is a poor and useless refuge for him in his guilt. The work is his to do, the responsibility his to assume. His conscience, though cow- ardly enough to attempt to embed its dart in another soul, cannot unburden itself. Guilt is there and will remain there. The sooner teachers acknowledge this the bet- ter for themselves and their charges. For then they will make serious efforts to fos- ter the mental freshness and activity which are so necessary for effective work. Frank fellowship with older and younger 60 TEACHER AND TEACHING people is a valuable aid to this. It opens up two new points, exposes two new ex- periences, both advantageous. The ex- periences of the older enrich us, broaden us, tempt us to look ahead beyond ourselves in order to be ready for future emergen- cies. Those of the young show us that we must continually readjust ourselves to changing problems and conditions. Clouds are bad points of vantage for educational work, and teachers are proverbially fond of living in the clouds and working there- from. Occasional association with a younger generation will dissipate the haze and bring the dignified professor to earth, in time to render at least a portion of his life useful to those to whom he has conse- crated the whole of it. Aloofness is a bad asset for a man who would train boys. For they change with changing years. The boy of to-day is not the boy of ten years ago and much less is he the boy of twenty or twenty-five years ago. He is of quite a different species. Hence methods which were effective in eighteen hundred and eighty are apt to be grotesque in the year of TEACHER AND TEACHING 61 grace nineteen hundred and fourteen. Yet those old ways and means are only too often in vogue with consequences that are at once pitiable and ludicrous. To fellowship with others the teacher should add judicious reading in subjects that do not bear directly on his matter. He must forget his specialty once in a while, or else it will degenerate into a poor hobby, and then his thoughts and desires and words will be all of a piece. His sub- ject will be the be-all and end-all of his ex- istence and other existences. He will have one thought, no more, and a dry one it will be, at least for others if not for himself. His mind will be warped, his life dom- inated, not dominating. Though this is the result of all imprudent specialization, yet it is strongly characteristic of exclusive attention to the exact sciences. They nar- row the mental compass, stifle emotion, kill the aesthetic sense, convert a man into an overbearing bigot. Darwin lived to lament that he could not appreciate a poem. A page of Huxley is as narrow as a code of laws devised by a pious maiden aunt for an 62 TEACHER AND TEACHING obstreperous nephew. Both men rode a hobby to the edge of their graves, into which they fell mentally cramped by con- tinual application to one subject. Broad reading will prevent this and will besides furnish the teacher with informa- tion and schemes which will make his class- room a pleasant and a useful place for the young. Interest-awakening resources will never fail him. He will be ready to turn a thousand incidents of everyday life to the benefit of his class. The eruption of a Pelee or a Vesuvius will prompt him to lead his pupils through Pliny's description of a similar incident. The burning of a San Francisco or a Baltimore will find him ready to explain Tacitus' picture of the burning of Eome. And as collateral mat- ter he will have at hand the conflagration in "Barnaby Budge," Headley's truly re- markable description of the destruction of Moscow, Fouard's still more wonderful ac- count of the burning of Jerusalem, and oth- ers no less interesting. An outbreak of bubonic plague or cholera will remind him of Thucydides ' plague of Athens, which he TEACHER AND TEACHING 63 will supplement by Defoe's " Plague of London," Gasquet's " Black Death" or Manzoni's Plague of Milan and the wreck of a Titanic will introduce his class to the Dickens shipwreck, and so on for all but innumerable incidents, not excluding the Sicilian earthquake, whose counterpart he will discover in Thucydides. Everything will be alive to such a man. For he himself is alive, and life flows from him into his subjects. Neither he nor his pupils will complain that the classics are old, lifeless, uninteresting. He will put youth and life and interest into them. Bather he will find all three there. For they are there. Life is ever young, active and interesting. Who, pray, more modern than Horace and Juvenal, ' ' dead songsters who never die " ? A deft and slight change here and there and their satires could be read from hustings in Baltimore, New York, Boston, Chicago, St. Louis and San Francisco, to the delight even of the rabble. Samuel Johnson recognized Juvenal's adaptability in his day and recooked him in "London" and "The Vanity of Human 64 TEACHER AND TEACHING Wishes. " A Viennese, a Parisian and a Gothamite could do the same with profit to-day. But freshness and mental activity in a teacher avail little unless he is skilful in exposition. Herein lies a difficulty. The golden mean is hard to grasp. Some men assign lessons by pages without a word of advice or explanation. Such have missed their vocation. It is unprofitable to dis- cuss their case. Death or resignation alone can cure them. Others again out of pure zeal go to the opposite extreme and leave nothing to the energy and ingenuity of the pupils. This is a grievous mistake. It stifles originality, checks initiative, con- verts lads into intellectual paupers who will never learn to think or do for themselves. Good teachers should never do for a boy what the boy can and should do for him- self. They are not foolish, doting moth- ers, and let them remember that "male mothers" are queer, contemptible creatures even in boys* eyes. The master's duty is to make the boy active, self-reliant, re- sourceful. This can be accomplished only TEACHER AND TEACHING 65 by throwing the boy on his own resources as far as is consistent with prudence. The forest guide does not train his novices by blindfolding them and carrying them through successive thickets on his shoul- ders. He teaches them to beat their way through the bush and briar at the cost of pain. The mother bird does not get her fledgling to fly by putting it on her back and soaring aloft with it. She tempts it to try even dangerous feats of flight that it may learn to wing its way safely through the mazes which will beset its after years. Teachers can learn from guide and mother bird that education is begun and consummated in travail. It is unjust and absurd to shield a boy from all painful ef- fort. When his strivings are intelligent, he should be allowed to struggle to the last ditch. The mill of pain and the press of sacrifice are required to make a man. Without them the soul is only half itself, a dwarfed, stunted thing in bonds which it cannot break. Story writers tell us, and how old the tale! that one day a tender- hearted naturalist happened upon a but- 66 TEACHER AND TEACHING terfly striving to free itself from the co- coon. After great effort it cast off all im- pediments to freedom except one slender thread, which offered stubborn resistance. In pity for the creature's apparent help- lessness, the scientist cut the thread and released the butterfly, which fluttered gaily for a moment and then fell dead. The last effort for release was necessary for life. Such was nature's inexorable law, and nature violated, avenged itself in the death of the insect. False sympathy was its undoing. Greater calamities happen in the class- room for like reasons. Nature's law is violated, intellectual and oftentimes moral death follow. Better that the teacher study the future and contemplate the seething arena of life into which his pupils are soon to be cast. From his contempla- tion he will learn that victory belongs to the alert and resolute. The alert and resolute he must form then. Otherwise he will unfit his pupils for life. Under his tutelage they will dream a long dream, but the awakening will come, and it will be rude indeed. The TEACHER AND TEACHING 67 illusion will be great, readjustment to puz- zling and unsuspected conditions, impos- sible. There will be another wreck on the highway of life, another tragedy fateful beyond telling. A soul will be over- whelmed, perhaps forever. The seeds of ruin were sown and nourished years be- fore in the classroom. The tragedy began not on the highway, but under the eye of the teacher, the savior of men. Vae, hom- ini! But all this will be avoided if the teacher continually lives a sturdy, noble life, intellectual and moral, and communi- cates it to his charges. Interest aroused, interest preserved, here is the one way of accomplishing this sublime work. CHAPTER VI THE METHOD AND FUNCTION OF RECITATION GOOD teaching embraces many diverse elements. All of them are important in some degree or other. Eecitation is amongst the most important. A master's work does not end with explanations, how- ever good and varied. For after he has given the best that he knows in the best possible way, he still has a grave duty to- wards his pupils. He must see what effect his instructions are having on their minds. For though he may work with great skill and diligence, yet it is just possible that, for some reason or other, the stream of knowledge which flows from him may pass into the intellect of his charges, be impeded in its course for a moment, and then flow TEACHER AND TEACHING 69 on and out, leaving the mind as arid and fruitless as ever. This should be corrected in the very be- ginning. Otherwise it will work incalcu- lable harm to pupil and teacher alike, caus- ing stagnation in the one and a feeling akin to despair in the other. The corrective lies in intelligent recitations, oral and writ- ten. This is apparent from the very na- ture and function of the recitation. For there is no instrument more capable of testing and training the mind. Its aim is not merely to gauge a pupil's knowledge. It has a value above and beyond this. By skilful use it becomes a wonderful agent for correction of mental defects and defi- ciencies. It promotes introspection, en- genders habits of correct and orderly thought, and guides the mind into new channels of unsuspected lore. Moreover, it inspires to better work, and easily falls in with the teacher's chief purpose by as- sisting in the moulding of character, giv- ing as it does, mental poise and resource- fulness in difficult circumstances, two aids to calmness, frankness and courtesy. The 70 TEACHER AND TEACHING teacher crowns his work by conducting skilful recitations, the pupil profits im- measurably by them. But which way of carrying them out is best calculated to effect all this 1 ? Nature holds the key to the answer once again. She must be consulted first, before any def- inite plans can be inaugurated with profit. A glance at an illustration may betray her secret to us. Two little boys go forth to recreation. One is a matter-of-fact chap, practical to a fault. Presently he begins to build a toy house. He works slowly and thoughtfully, examining now his material, now the ungainly structure. He compares piece with piece, selects the wood best suited to each emergency, saws it here, shaves it there, until finally it suits his pur- pose. At last by dint of much ingenious if awkward work he tops off his castle with a chimney and then stands back to contem- plate his masterpiece and to soliloquize about it. His words reveal an ambition to become a man overnight and build a whole village of "real" houses after the pattern of the model before him. Act and TEACHER AND TEACHING 71 speech have enabled us to follow the men- tal process of the lad from beginning to end. He proceeded by slow and laborious steps from particular to universal, ending by bringing his knowledge into relation with life. In the meantime the other boy is look- ing on with supreme unconcern, or per- chance disgust. He will have no part with such jobbery. His mind is rebellious against the narrowness of the thought- process required for it and impatient of the details involved. Soon some other lads join the two. Immediately the silent fellow takes on new life. His tongue is unleashed, and he suggests that all play at Indian. He is to act as chief, and as such begins instructions for the game. His talk, though quite inconsequent, is filled with imagery. Mountains and valleys and animals and warriors are all mentioned in turn. Soon the game is on, led by the chief, who proves himself entirely differ- ent from the potential contractor. He is unpractical and imaginative and a bit wild of concept. 72 TEACHER AND TEACHING Here we have two types of minds with which the teacher has to deal, and from them we get a clue to the two main meth- ods of recitation : one the Socratic method, betrayed by the builder ; the other, the topic method, revealed by the little Indian. The first of these, which is most useful in train- ing young minds, and careless and incon- sequent and highly imaginative minds, re- quires special tact and preparation. If a to. oher would be successful in its use, he must canvass his matter carefully, separate the important from the unimportant ele- ments, pitch upon the main idea, pick out the principal difficulty of the lesson, and ; -range in his mind a set of clear, logical qaestions which lead gradually to the very heart of the subject. On obtaining appro- priate answers, he must propose difficul- ties suitable to the age and attainments of his pupils. The more modern and novel these objections are, the better, for then they will surely coordinate knowledge with life. This done the repetition is over. But this is only an outline of the process. A TEACHER AND TEACHING 73 close examination of it will be of profit. Naturally the questions call for first con- sideration. These should be, above all, di- rect, clear, orderly and progressive, the easier and more fundamental first, the dif- ficult and more general next. This last caution has its justification in the very na- ture of science itself. For science, the ob- jective body of correlated truths, has a cer- tain fixed order. There is subordination and coordination of truth to truth. S^raie truths are fundamental, some pivotal, some top the structure. This order moreover should be respected, so that the mind can proceed in logical fashion from simple to more complex, from particular to gener.3^ and thus assimilate and retain, not ouus and ends, but an articulated, compact sys- tem of truth. This should be the aim and result of intelligent recitation. For it should be constructive not destructive. Sometimes of course it must begin in de- struction but it should not end there. If idols are smashed, something better should be put in their place. There is nothing more discouraging to a boy than to have 74 TEACHER AND TEACHING his mind swept clear of all knowledge by a whirlwind of questions, or filled with the debris of the framework of science, which he had erected at the cost of great labor. Cui bono will soon become a motto. Such a process is all the more lamentable for the fact that it is unnecessary. A great part of the knowledge which was swept away could have been saved. Perhaps all that was required was a deft excision here and there, and some rearrangement. But granted the worst, that nothing could be preserved. Then at least the bad could have been replaced by the good, and dis- couragement offset. The mind which is visited by a destroying tornado once a day, or even once a week, creeps from discour- agement to despair, from despair to de- fiance, and from defiance to ruin. Teach- ers who as a rule do not attempt to leave knowledge and encouragement, or at least some stimulus to better things, in the wake of their recitations, are building up with their left hand and tearing down with their right. Sometimes the whole difficulty with reci- TEACHER AND TEACHING 75 tation lies in the questions. In framing them no consideration is given to the fact that old knowledge which the boy surely has is a starting point for new conquests. Then again they are often either obscure or so transparent that they bear the an- swer on the surface. It is hard to decide which of these last is the worse. They are at least equally bad. The former puzzle, harass, discourage and lead nowhere, save perhaps into blind alleys. The latter in- duce mental inactivity, thus defeating the very purpose of education. The questions should rouse the mind to great activity, put it on its mettle without taxing it too much, involve it in difficulties from which it should be forced to extricate itself with the least possible external aid. This is train- ing. Valuable as is the form and nature of the questions, there is something even more important in this kind of recitation, and that is the deduction of general conclu- sions and laws. During the whole process of quizzing, the boy's mind should be re- flecting, comparing knowledge with knowl- 76 TEACHER AND TEACHING edge, piecing this and that together, until finally it is led to draw a universal judg- ment and establish a law. This is vital. For after all, science is founded on the universal. Though we may not fully agree with Kant's Anschauungen Begriffe sind blind, yet we must confess that singular and even particular judgments add very little to the store of scientific knowledge. Hence the recitation should culminate, if possible, in a general conclusion. Up to this point the process will have been mainly inductive. The mind proceeded step by step, piece by piece, joining item to item, until by inference it passed to a gen- eral law. A new process can now be brought into play with extreme advantage. The intel- lect can be made both to survey the whole chain of knowledge which it has formed and to contemplate all its ramifications. Skilful objections will accomplish this by bringing the mind to a realization of the bearing of link on link, by pointing out the connection of this chain to others, and by showing its value, its use. Thus the rela- TEACHER AND TEACHING 77 tion of fact to fact, law to law, science to science, will stand revealed. This can be accomplished by the self-activity of the pupil's intellect. Thus the young mind, naturally unreflective and tenacious of er- ror, will be made to feel its power. Thus will it be expanded, stimulated, inspired to new and higher conquests. The teacher, too, will profit by this method. It will force him to prepare for his classes intelligently. He will learn to concentrate his mind on the main issue, which he will always keep before him in his explanations, leading up to it and away from it in a clear, orderly manner. He will subordinate his illustrations to it, solve difficulties in reference to it. In this way he will develop a keener sense of propor- tion, and will hold to a direct, open course, free from those wretched aberrations to which all of us are accustomed. Good as is this method, it is yet liable to abuse. In the hands of some men it is lit- tle better than an instrument of torture. Procrustes of old tried to make all his vis- itors fit into one bed; some teachers, in 78 TEACHER AND TEACHING imitation of this crude, uncomfortable bar- barism, try to make all minds fit into one mould. They must get back what they gave forth in the order, and sometimes also in the very words in which it was given. Their questions play the part of a relent- less vise which squeezes all individuality and originality out of the mind. Thus forms and words and pages of books will be exalted above thought and mental ac- tivity. Likely enough, pupils will go away from such men poor replicas of poor types. But such an abuse is its own con- demnation. It is too enormous to require discussion, and does not in any way affect the intrinsic value of the Socratic method, which can be put to excellent use, especially in the exact sciences and in the case of flighty, imaginative, careless minds which stand in need of a severe discipline. But this method is not the only one at the teacher's disposal. Three others re- main. From them we have chosen one, al- ready mentioned, the topic method, for consideration. This consists in choosing from the lesson important topics or items TEACHER AND TEACHING 79 and proposing them for discussion. The discussion, however, should be carried on by the pupil, not by the teacher. The lat- ter may guide it by prudent suggestions, but he should not lead it. If he is skilful in this work, the process will promote in- sight, imaginative power and coherence of thought. Moreover it will help in the ac- quisition of a choice vocabulary and in the promotion of readiness of speech and pre- cision of expression. If on the other hand the method is used carelessly, disadvan- tages too numerous and obvious for discus- sion will follow. Verboseness, inconse- quence and slovenliness of thought, inex- actness of expression, are but a small fraction of them. Yet the teacher should not be deterred from using the method by the catalogue of evils. It is most useful in the training of hard, dry, practical, unimaginative minds. Moreover, it enables the master to get a quick and correct estimate of his pupil's intellect. A boy cannot discourse for long on any topic without betraying his limita- tions. The teacher will soon be able to 80 TEACHER AND TEACHING discover a weak imagination here, a riot- ous one there, superficiality in this one, disorder in another, now stolidity and self- assurance, again timidity and a mental nervousness which causes the mind to leap aimlessly from topic to topic as a caged and frightened bird flits from perch to perch. With this knowledge in hand the master can easily adapt himself to indi- vidual needs and dispositions. As is clear, both the Socratic and the topic method can also be conducted in writ- ing. These written exercises and others of a different kind are of great importance. Should any one doubt this, he can read with profit the humorous and illuminating chapters on " Elementary Studies" in Newman's ''Idea of a University." But our paper is not concerned either with the value of themes or their structure, but rather with their correction. Stupid sys- tems of recension deprive themes of half their value as a medium of education. Teachers mark mistakes in red, green and blue, and give back the papers to the pu- pils, and there the matter ends. The boy TEACHER AND TEACHING 81 never knows his mistakes, or if he does, he never takes pains to correct them. So year after year he commits the same er- rors, and finally goes forth from school to become a blundering doctor or lawyer or spiritual adviser. For long-standing men- tal defects are seldom eradicated. The case would be different if the teach- er's work were intelligent. But it becomes intelligent only when the boy is led to cor- rect his own mistakes. Score the theme in red, blue and green by all means, but insist that it be returned corrected by the one who made the scoring necessary. In this way the boy will be forced to think. He will reflect and compare and analyze, and call upon old knowledge to meet new emergencies. He will worry out old mean- ings under new forms, trace sequences, de- pendencies of clause on clause, note struc- ture of sentences, match idioms, learn to distinguish between shades of meaning, think, diagnose a case, and carry the habit thus formed into law, or medicine, or the priesthood, or business, where it is of su- preme moment. CHAPTER VII DISCIPLINE EFFICIENT mental and moral training depends, to a large extent, on good disci- pline. For on the one hand, disorder dis- tracts and disconcerts the teacher and wastes his energy, while on the other, it renders impossible the attention and calm- ness of mind, without which pupils can neither acquire nor retain knowledge. Moreover boys cannot live long in an at- mosphere of riot without moral hurt. Their ideals are shattered and their wills either become wayward or grow slack of purpose and effort. In their disrespect for the representative of authority they learn to despise authority itself. Eevolt against the master is often a prelude to formal contempt of the office and power of all superiors. The consequences of this 82 are serious enough to make every teacher take thought about his responsibility for them. Without doubt he has a far-reach- ing duty in this matter which he cannot neglect. For his office obliges him to dis- cipline, not precisely that he may teach with ease and comfort to himself, but rather that he may train the souls of his pupils. To do this effectively, the teacher must first discipline himself. The undisciplined master is the centre and source of a vast amount of the disorder so common in the class-rooms. His defects and deficiencies react on those in his charge and drive them to contumely, for which they had no nat- ural inclination in the beginning. Boys will not tolerate a noisy demagogue, nor a poor punster, any more than they will abide an irascible tyrant, whose chief dis- tinction lies, not in brains, but in strong muscles and a bass voice. Their young lives may be made miserable, but they will demand and get the pound of flesh, and the blood, too. In the end they will be the masters. The good disciplinarian then 84 TEACHER AND TEACHING must himself be disciplined. The man who has not subjugated himself cannot ex- pect to rule others. He has failed to con- quer the one closest to himself, and has no reason to expect success in governing those separated from him by the widest and most unintelligible of all finite gulfs, a different personality. Hence, the first task of every young teacher is the conquest of his own heart. He must begin by recognizing frankly his faults and rooting them out. On investi- gation he will probably find that he is im- mensely impressed by his own learning, dignity and importance. Of course, his pupils' impressions will not be half so in- tense and flattering. This will soon be- come apparent. Then the young teacher's soul will begin to smart under disappoint- ment, and unless he has a care he will be- tray himself lamentably. For vanity does not brook dark corners and places below stairs. It insists on living in the open, and is as ingenious as a sensational preacher in attracting notice to itself. Anger, sarcasm, injustice, cheap politics, and a TEACHER AND TEACHING 85 thousand other petty vices and schemes are its shameless instruments. It ob- trudes itself on the notice of the pupils in the most offensive ways, until finally Blessings on their manly spirit! they take matters into their own hands, roughly perhaps, but effectively. The teacher is to blame for all this. He has created the dis- order, and will father more, unless he ap- plies the knife to his soul. He must cut away anger, for it darkens counsel, and put up in its place calmness, which has a majesty about it, at once attractive and compelling. That done, he is ready for new excisions and new acquisitions. Softness, favoritism, undue suspicious- ness, the most contemptible of all petty vices, and that fox-like animal astuteness which, no doubt, has been mirrored in the face of every man who ever harbored it in his heart, from Judas to the last of the tribe, must be replaced by the sturdy, frank, wholesome manliness which com- mands the respect and admiration of every- body worthy of an education, or even con- sideration. The teacher who does this has 86 made a great stride towards success in dis- cipline. He has few or no natural defects on which boys can play, to his chagrin and consequent undoing. He will be prudent and forceful in thought and action. Though boys may not cringe before him, yet they will not lead him by a chain. They will troop on by his side, happy in his inspiration and leadership. So far we have been looking at the disci- plinarian from one angle only. There is another view-point which presents a new aspect. For disorder can also arise from poor, uninteresting teaching. As soon as a boy loses interest in his studies he be- comes a problem to his teacher. He must be busy. If he is not intent on his books he will be intent on mischief. The pru- dent master recognizes this and does his best to keep his pupils ' minds concentrated on their work. With this intent he studies his boys and adapts himself to their needs. He never imposes tasks beyond their men- tal and physical endurance. He aims at clear, "snappy" explanations. His eye TEACHER AND TEACHING 87 is ever alert for the first signs of restless- ness, which he is quick to suppress by change of work or greater clearness, or re- newed vigor of manner. His recitations are always times of mild surprises. His pupils never know how or when they are to be called upon to recite. They never feel quite safe. They are conscious that a call in the beginning of a lesson does not mean immunity for the rest of that lesson. If there are six recitations they are liable to be called upon in all. They have no time to plot mischief, none even to indulge the luxury of a day-dream. They must be alert the whole day. Such conditions safe- guard boy and teacher alike. Just here one may object that these prin- ciples are a bit too narrow to cover the whole problem at issue. They concern either the personality of the teacher, or one only of his many relations to his pu- pils, thus leaving untouched many phases of the perplexing question. Broader prin- ciples and a discussion of other relations would be welcome. This necessitates a 88 TEACHER AND TEACHING consideration of the nature of the disci- pline desirable in a class-room and on the play-ground. All good discipline is self -discipline. It is a concern of each individual soul : some- thing that the boy must impose upon him- self. It does not consist in coercion from without, but in a chastening from within. The teacher, tradition and that intangible element called atmosphere, may offer oc- casion for it, may even promote and direct it, but they cannot make it. For discipline is not a growth from without. It is a spirit within. It begins in a realization of the difference between right and wrong, proceeds to an understanding of duty and obligation, goes a step further to the for- mation of high ideals, and finally rests in a fruitful determination to order all thoughts, words and actions in accordance with the high standards conceived and adopted as the norm to be followed. Thus, discipline pertains both to the in- tellect and to the will. Enlightenment and strength are necessary for it. The intel- lect must see the truth clearly and present TEACHER AND TEACHING 89 it to the will as a good to be desired and adopted. The teacher 's part in the process consists in skilful and attractive exposi- tions of ideals and reasonable attempts to persuade his pupils to adopt and obey them. In all this he must be chary of co- ercion. He is dealing, not with statues, which remain where they are put by force, but with rational, high-strung boys, who possess faculties which respond poorly enough to the lash and the harsh word. Reason was never yet persuaded by either of these means, and as a rule, the will is cowed by them, only to rebound to former defects with redoubled energy, if not fury. Discipline, be it remembered, is not op- pression and suppression. It is the very opposite of these. It is expansion, ac- companied by excision of the mean and low and base. The class-room is not a prison in charge of a relentless warden nor yet a barracks in the keeping of a stern colonel. It is rather a meeting place of a family circle, where brothers in spirit meet under the care of an experienced guide for help and encouragement in high effort. Its rules are as few and simple as possible. Its spirit is as informal as is consistent with effective work. Though the rod and harsh words are as necessary and salutary in the school as in the home, yet they should be called into requisition judi- ciously, after all other means of training have failed. Both are sometimes indis- pensable for the proper upbringing of boys, and, truth to tell, a vast army of our American boys would profit by their use. On the other hand, their abuse is a mon- strous evil. Misused, they become instru- ments of oppression. Those souls only are trained which are allowed to live a normal life. Then it is that teachers can see the defects which are to be uprooted and the virtues which need straightening. The easy family circle is more apt to uncover selfishness and petu- lancy quicker than the drawing-room, ruled by rigid conventionalities. The authori- tative reasoning of a father is more potent for good than a sharp rebuke from a mas- ter of ceremonies who watches every move- TEACHER AND TEACHING 91 ment with a critical eye. Rational super- vision is better than officious espionage. Indeed, the latter is not only ineffective, it is disgnsting and contemptible, and there is nothing more pitiable than a system which fosters it, or even tolerates it. The boy who is tagged and nagged continually is a superior being, indeed, if he escapes ruin. He is almost sure to become a cun- ning, dishonest fellow, who glances out the side of the eye, and slinks round corners like a thief. Espionage is a confession of failure. It argues- more plainly than words that the system which spawned it is incapable of touching the soul, and must rely on a miserable makeshift to perpetu- ate its life, which were better annihilated, for that it is a lie. Training? It gives none. The dog which bays the robber from the booty does not convert the thief. The horse whose training for the hunt consists in forced avoidance of posts in a paddock, is fit not for the chase, but for lions' food. The pedagogue who is an officious spy does scant courtesy to his own character and to his profession. Whatever his ver- 92 TEACHER AND TEACHING bal profession may be, his conduct is meas- ured and directed by the gratuitous and perverse doctrine of total depravity. He were better on the benches striving for higher ideals. Of course there should be supervision. But supervision and espion- age are worlds apart. There is nothing offensive or inordinate about the former. It is reasonable and necessary. Its method is directive rather than coercive. Though at times it issues in penalties, yet is never arbitrary. Modus in rebus is its motto. The spirit which prompts it is too reasonable to tempt rational objections. For its purpose is not so much the observ- ance of a rule, as the acquisition of that for which the rule was instituted. It knows how to overlook trifles, pretends not to see each and every fault, does not judge the great and small equal. Moreover when it has to punish, it is solicitous, not for the penalty, but for the good which is to be derived from it. Hence it has a care to bring the boy both to a realization of his fault and to a willingness to accept the pen- alty. But this, of course, will never be TEACHER AND TEACHING 93 if the penalty is harsh or excessive, or stu- pid, as is the imposition of the transcrip- tion of long, unintelligible passages from Greek authors, a monstrous process even- tuating in hatred for a noble study and in a ruined chirography. Young teachers are notorious culprits in regard to punishments. Their wits seem to desert them in an emergency, and they strike blindly and wrathfully. Could they but learn to sleep on their wrath they would escape many a blunder. Impulse and anger always lead to excess, poise and calmness counsel moderation. Punish- ments should be meted out dispassionately a little at a time to individuals, not angrily and heavily, to many at once. Nothing brings a boy to his senses quicker than the realization that the punishment is to be proportioned, not so much to the gravity of the offence, though that should be taken into consideration, too, as to his unwill- ingness to admit the wrong and his slow- ness in correcting it. Boys who are de- fiant on the first and second day of punish- ment give way on the third if they feel that 94 TEACHER AND TEACHING by so doing their faults are forgiven and forgotten. In dealing with boys the teacher has four appeals to make: one to the reason, an- other to the instinct of fear, a third to the instinct of reverence, and a fourth to their love. The first appeal often fails in the case of young lads, seldom in that of older boys. Yet failure in the former case need not be the rule. If it is, the fault lies not in the boy, but either in the argument or the man who makes it. Young boys are rarely captivated by speculative reasons. They are almost to a lad pleasure-loving and utilitarian, and arguments to be effective with them must show that a proposed course of action is at least useful, if not pleasurable. The bonum utile and the bonum dulce should be combined wherever possible. The appeal to fear, though at times nec- essary and useful, should in the main be avoided. Its educative influence is not as great as is supposed. Oftentimes it de- stroys the self-confidence of the timid, and TEACHER AND TEACHING 95 makes others dark and secretive, results wholly undesirable. Reverence and love have none of these drawbacks. In them there is naught save power for good. By them the boy sur- renders himself completely to the teacher, whose solemn duty it is to inspire him with God-like thoughts and aspirations. But it must be admitted that in these critical and desperately democratic days boys require a high degree of excellence in those whom they would reverence and love. Common- place mediocrity will scarcely attract their notice, much less fascinate them. They demand superior mental and moral excel- lence in their heroes. We deceive our- selves by judging qtherwise, or by thinking that we can dazzle them by false pretence. They estimate character by a wonderful instinct which is akin to that queer, un- canny intuition in women, which so often and so effectively replaces ratiocination. Boys' impressions of their teacher are generally correct. It is only when they begin to reason laboriously, an infrequent 96 TEACHER AND TEACHING occurrence, that they go astray. For then false witness and prejudice are apt to di- rect and color their judgments. As a rule, then, the teacher must ring true to be estimated true. And he will ring true if he is a master of his subject and allied subjects; a friend of his boys, yet their superior ; a pure wholesome compan- ion, yet a prudent counsellor in time of need; a whole-souled unenvious man, who disdains to speak disparagingly of fellow- professors, or of pupils in the presence of pupils ; a man, in short, who gives himself to a noble cause, forgetful of rebuif and ingratitude, seeking only to perpetuate the work of Him, who set free the captive and gave sight to the blind. To such a one discipline is not a problem. CHAPTER VIII CHARACTER EDUCATION which does not make for character is a delusion and a snare. It is a play at hypocrisy. It pretends to do what it cannot do, make a man. It works on the unformed child and converts him into a deformed man. It misses the only effect worthy of supreme effort. For after all a good character is man's greatest treasure. Without this the "psalm of life is a broken chord," with it there is har- mony in the soul, be trial and suffering ever so great. Hence character should be a teacher's chief est care. He should covet nothing so much as the privilege of bend- ing every effort to the formation of souls unto justice. Such labor is his life work. To accomplish this he must first have a care of himself. As far as possible unal- 97 98 TEACHER AND TEACHING loyed goodness in great and small things must possess his heart. For he is not an actor. He does not teach from behind a mask or under a wig. He does not edu- cate by mere words, nor yet by deeds, but by his manhood, by his thoughts, his as- pirations, his words, his deeds, his whole self, every fibre of his being. He is his lesson. If he is noble, his lesson is ex- alted ; if he is base, his work is low, mean and ineffectual. He is a voice crying in the wilderness, the voice is hollow and un- persuasive, and the wilderness will always retain its primitive savagery, if indeed it does not increase it. The man is the edu- cator. The more a noble personality en- ters into the work, the better and more lasting will its effects be. Just here modern education scores one of its most lamentable failures. The sys- tem has become so bureaucratic that the teacher is a pawn to rule and sched- ule. He is cramped, cabined and confined by petty regulations. His individuality is smothered. His natural goodness is re- placed by a text book, from which diluted TEACHER AND TEACHING 99 ethics is spelled between taps of a gong. He teaches according to inflexible schemes and diagrams, which have been drawn up in a far-away office by an unpractical if exalted person who knows just enough about boys to class them under vertebrates and bipeds. Thus masters are converted into machines and pupils go forth into the world trade-marked not soul-marked. High hopes of youth are blasted and a no- ble vocation is debased beyond telling. Happily however the bureaucracy cannot wind its tentacles around every man dedi- cated to the training of boys. There are some beyond its reach. These are our hope and consolation. In order that these men may succeed in their efforts they should first realize what character is. They must have an ideal to aim at. For good will is paralyzed by absence of true notions about the end to be attained. What then is a good charac- ter? It were impossible to give a thor- oughly adequate and satisfactory defini- tion of this. Its details are so numerous and complex and withal subtle that some 100 TEACHER AND TEACHING of them escape analysis and as a conse- quence defy a verbal formula. For char- acter is life, and life is intricate and deep and shifty, and scorns compression into a sentence or even into a volume. However there are certain features of a fine char- acter on which we can fasten without much difficulty. First of all it supposes lofty ideals, high, correct thinking. This is es- sential but not sufficient. Something more is demanded. The ideals must have a mo- tive power. They must not be isolated from action. They must react constantly on the will, moving it to repeated, delib- erate deeds, until habits which embody lofty principles become so involved with life itself that one is the measure of the other. Theoretically all this is quite com- monplace. Practically it is shamefully neglected. We have reached a stage where the few noble ideals left to our peo- ple affect many of their possessors on bright Sundays during "service." Their workaday lives are in strange contrast to their Sunday professions. The result is an open book writ so large that he who TEACHER AND TEACHING 101 runs ever so swiftly can read without fear of eye-strain. Character then is a fixed condition of the soul, a permanent state in which the spirit lives and moves under the inspira- tion and guidance of deep-rooted princi- ples. It is not a fitful thing, something which changes with the weather or comes and goes at beck and call. It is life, strong, exalted life, which outlasts the mortal breath a.nd lives on for eternity. True, men may sometimes fall short of their ideals, but they are not for that char- acterless. Falls are incidents even in the lives of the just, and sad though they be, they may not be indicative of more than a passing weakness. Occasional lapses are perfectly consistent with a character which may be good, albeit not perfect. The crux of this question is not in infrequent deviations from high standards, but rather in the total lack of all elevating principles. Better a hundred, yea, a thousand falls which bring repentance than an unguided or misguided life. The latter were charac- terless, the former is not. 102 TEACHER AND TEACHING Teachers of boys are only too apt to en- tertain wrong notions on this point. They forget that character formation is the work of a lifetime, done, may be, in storms which every now and then displace por- tions of the spiritual edifice which is build- ing in pain and travail. The shortcom- ings of their pupils discourage and embit- ter them. They give up in despair of ac- complishing any lasting good and await their Nunc dimittis with high expectation. foolish and slow of heart ! Foolish, that they do not understand life ; slow of heart, that they do not place their trust on high and begin anew, even after the edifice which they saw rising under their eyes collapses with a crash. All is not lost. The crash may be more apparent than real. For boyhood is a time of strange, gusty moods and stranger contradictions. The wind of the moods may be boisterous, but it is seldom strong enough to do lasting hurt. It disturbs the surface of the soul and leaves the inner depths untouched. The whim of the contradiction may lead the boy to emphasize the evil that is in TEACHER AND TEACHING 103 him and hide the good. But virtue is there and will soon reassert itself in all its na- tive vigor and beauty. The teacher's ideal- ism would seldom be blighted, his energy seldom sapped through disappointment, did he but call to his experiences in the for- mation of his own character. The book of his life is scored with failures. Struggle was and is the meat and drink and breath of his life; eternal vigilance, the price of his every victory. And failure and strug- gle and vigilance are emphatically not signs of lack of character. Were it so, the corpse would be most masterful. Whence, then, discouragement save from a pusillanimous heart? Courage and con- fidence, a martyr's motto, be our inspira- tion. After we have assisted the boy to lay the broad outlines of his character, let us help him with the details thereof. For they are many and fickle and worrisome and demand constant, toilsome effort. In the end success will crown our work. For Nature is not altogether bad and Grace is strong. The constant striving of the boy, guided by us, will bring unto him integ- 104 TEACHER AND TEACHING rity, which will make him true to himself and hence to others; courage which will rejoice to make an enemy for the sake of principle and scorn to find a friend at the cost of a principle; patience which endur- eth all things; joy that scattereth bless- ings in the way; kindness which refuses to crush the bruised reed or quench the smok- ing flax: in short, all the characteristics which Saint Peter postulates for those "who have obtained equal faith with us in the justice of our God and Savior Jesus Christ": faith and courage and knowledge and abstinence and patience and brotherly kindness and love, which if they be with us and abound, will make us neither empty nor unfruitful. The Greeks of old, drunk with joy over their high estate, would honor Zeus for that he had been benign. They searched their quarries for flawless, spotless mar- ble, and finding it, they set their most ex- pert sculptor to carve therefrom a godlike statue of the godly Zeus. The work was done. The happy Greeks thronged to pay the statue homage. At first sight they ac- TEACHER AND TEACHING 105 claimed it for its majesty and beauty. But soon their joy was turned to wrath by the discovery of the sculptor's name cut so deep into the fair marble that its removal could be accomplished only by the destruc- tion of the statue itself. The work of the Christian educator is symbolized in this. He is to send forth a Godlike man, with the name and character of Christ, the real fashioner of hearts, cut so deep into the soul that they can be removed only by the annihilation of the soul itself. But Christ the Lord of creation and Savior of men will not permit so great a calamity. Let us see how all this can be accomplished. CHAPTER IX TRAINING FOR CHARACTER AT present there is perhaps no subject more frequently discussed in pedagogical circles than the formation of character. The subject itself appeals to every teacher. Moreover, something akin to a panic has been caused amongst educators by sharp criticisms of their failure to fashion boys of sterling worth, and panics which are not too soul-racking promote debate. The net result is that discussion has far outrun achievement, chiefly because the principles laid down are only too often vague and impracticable. Hence the topic presents further opportunity for argu- ment. What part is the teacher to play in form- ing a pupil's character? In general he must both inculcate principles and foster 106 TEACHER AND TEACHING 107 the formation of habits. This requires constant activity and elaborate but definite knowledge. Mere acquaintance with cer- tain common foibles of human nature is not sufficient. Each boy in particular must be known intimately and trained in- dividually. Otherwise there is much use- less beating of the air. The acquisition of the necessary knowl- edge depends on circumstances which vary with persons, times and places. But cer- tain general hints may help to its attain- ment. Those for whom these papers were chiefly written are thrown in contact with boys of many different extractions. Each group is marked by certain traits. The lads of one set are intellectually quick, critical, destructive rather than construc- tive. They are disinclined to the hard, persistent effort which results in thor- oughness. They work well under stimu- lus, but are apt to give up once the goad is lifted. Moreover, they are emotional and sensitive, forgiving in great injustices, unforgiving in small offences, prodigal in 108 TEACHER AND TEACHING poverty, tight in wealth, tender to all in distress, hard on their fellows who are suc- cessful, but a bit obsequious to alien peo- ples of wealth or influence. The boys of the second class are men- tally slow, but persistent and thorough. They set their teeth firm and reach the goal in triumph, late it may be, but well for all that. They are stolid to a certain point. Beyond that they are passionate. Their melancholia is acute and prolonged, their anger vehement. Their boiling point is high but once it is reached there is a mighty ebullition and an overflow which is uncomfortable to the objects of their wrath. They possess a wonderful instinct for organization, which is sometimes car- ried to the excess of undue insistence on petty details, and an unfortunate exclusive- ness. The third group resembles the second in many ways. Its members partake of many of the latter 's good qualities, but they lack the instinct for organization, and their defects are more pronounced. This is especially true of stubbornness and an- TEACHER AND TEACHING 109 ger. There are few lads of this group who are not sons of Boanerges in dis- guise. Finally, the boys of the last class are quick in speculation, but inept in practical affairs, except perhaps in diplomacy. They are mystical and emotional, and lit- tle inclined to intellectual drudgery. They are capable of the highest idealism, which is often tainted by self-interest. Such in general are some of the characteristics of our pupils. But a teacher's view of the difficulties which will be encountered would be incom- plete without some very definite notions of the influences which play upon boys in America. In the first place, responsibil- ity sits lightly upon the shoulders of many American parents. They are selfish and frivolous, and quite willing to shift the burden of the more serious parental duties to other shoulders. Their whole attitude towards their boys is apt to be wrong. Rightly enough they often make compan- ions of their children at an early age. But the companionship is not always as whole- 110 TEACHER AND TEACHING some as it might be. Conversation very often turns to criticism of the boy's teacher, pastor or superior. Authority is attacked. The boy's sense of reverence and obedience is either weakened or de- stroyed, and before long he holds the reins of parental power in his hands. He rules the home, and naturally enough attempts to lord it over his teacher. He has a false idea of manliness. He confounds it with the most unmanly of all defects, pertness and a contempt for submission to lawful authority. These wretched conditions are due to the home. Outside influences have a worse effect upon him. The very atmos- phere which he breathes is morally un- healthful. Lying and other forms of dis- honesty are so common that they excite little surprise. Eaiment is more than life. Pleasure is more than the soul. Money is the be-all and end-all, it is Circe's bread and wine, the cause of a thousand woes in which many rejoice. The godless and ig- norant man, who a decade or two ago coined money from the blood of the poor, is the hero of the hour. He is featured in TEACHER AND TEACHING 111 the public press. His goings and comings are noted in red ink. His vices are trumpeted as things of glory. His pic- ture and those of his successive living wives are printed in a prominent place. His benefactions are tagged with his name. Applause is long and loud, even though his filthy coins are given for cheap glory's sake, and bid fair to prostitute the nation's ideals and institutions to ungodliness. All this has a most deleterious effect upon our boys. It tinsels baseness and glorifies infamy, and tinsel and sham glory dazzle and pervert youth. Thus pupils come to our schools spoiled, abnormal, mis- shapen. Deep down in their hearts lurk ideals which are only too often brought into play by the first temptations of man- hood. Great is the ruin. To offset this their souls must be reshaped, their spirit remade. The task of reform will be huge, but not hopeless. At least hopeful ma- terial is at hand, an immortal soul, the image of an all-holy God. Faith too is present, and faith is the foundation of all that is high and noble and holy. 112 TEACHER AND TEACHING As soon as the boy is committed to the teacher's care his training should be in- augurated. No moment should be lost. Late conversions are apt to be few and far between, and though they are a bless- ing in comparison with a former condition, yet they are seldom as satisfactory as a slow, steady growth in goodness from childhood to old age. Carpe diem cannot be insisted on too much. A spoiled boy of twelve years is a difficult problem, one of fourteen years a knotty problem, one of seventeen an all but desperate problem. Hope of perfect success rests to a great extent on early beginnings. The little prince is trained for kingship from in- fancy, so that on accession to the throne he will be a king in deed and not in name alone. It were a stupid thing for his training to wait on the sceptre. King and kingdom were lost. It were equally stupid to permit a boy to enter the kingdom of manhood, undirected by a guiding hand, untouched by the chastening rod of disci- pline. The kingdom of manhood is fac- tious, difficult of rule, and the king un- TEACHER AND TEACHING 113 trained from youth is slack of purpose and unsteady in achievement, a weakly thing swayed by every wind of passion, like a slender, naked reed in a stiff November storm. Elpenor of old were not more pitiable, and of him the minstrel sang in biting words : There was Elpenor, the youngest, a chap of little worth, Nor stanch in battle, nor well-knit of soul. How often are we not called upon to say of many of our pupils that they are not stanch in battle, nor well-knit of soul? A little heart-searching would frequently fasten the shame of such conditions on us. For few teachers work earnestly and in- telligently at character formation. Most of them are content to let good enough alone. External discipline is their only concern. Others again put a slight veneer over a soul which festers at the core. Age and sorrow and temptation and sin eat through the covering in a thousand places, and bequeath to the world a race of crabbed old men. This will never do. TEACHER AND TEACHING Nor will it suffice simply to uproot vices. The garden is not made beautiful by a mere process of weeding, but barren and ready perchance for a new crop of more loathsome weeds. There must be a sow- ing of good seed. Culture must succeed the planting, until at last the perfect flower rewards the labor done. One by one, slowly and patiently, at- tractive ideals must be held up before the pupils. There must be no confusion, no bustle, no magisterial tones, but peace and calmness and simplicity. Above all there must be a rational system. To get a boy to adopt two or three principles a year is a great victory. But a master will never bring this to pass by pitch-forking ideals into little heads. The farmer who scat- ters all sorts of seeds on the same ground harvests nothing. The teacher should classify his boys according to their races, watch for national characteristics, learn personal traits, and fit his training to the needs, and as the needs are generally va- ried, so too must the training be. * * Treat all alike," advice often given to young TEACHER AND TEACHING 115 teachers, is absurd and impossible. As well might the old practitioner say to the young doctor: " Treat your typhoid, small-pox and grip patients exactly in the same way." To treat the timid and the bold, the sluggard and the plodder, the reverent and the irreverent alike, is either to crush the one or to harden the other in evil. Treat all differently is often the only sensible advice. Before all else the teacher must beware of shielding the boys from trial and struggle. He should not graft virtues on to their souls. He must let his pupils suffer the travail incident to the formation of their characters. They themselves must struggle to train their souls under the master's direction. En- vironment, exposition of principles, en- couragement, are all indispensable, but in- sufficient and even ineffective without work and suffering on the part of the boy. Goethe hits upon more than a half truth in his Es bildet ein Talent sich in der Stille, dock ein Character in der Strom der Welt. Struggle and even temptation make for fuller development. Trial deepens 116 TEACHER AND TEACHING courage, temptation engenders self-con- trol and sympathy, sorrow fathers meek- ness and patience, intellectual difficulties foster humility, the ingratitude of others promotes unselfishness in us. What could be better? For life is not a tripping to a dance measure. The pace must often be set to the music of the battle march, or the solemn beat of the dirge. For such men must be prepared. We dance by instinct. But even after stern preparation we gird our loins and swing the battle-axe with clumsy reluctance. Without training our young men will do neither in any way. Failure, doom, will be their fate. On the other hand, with proper care pu- pils will leave our halls lofty of mind, strong of will, sound of judgment, poised in all things : men who will sing under low- ering clouds, and whistle in the teeth of a biting wind. "I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more, is none" will mean more for them than for Mac- beth himself. CHAPTER X RELIGION IN EDUCATION EDUCATION without religious training is sadly incomplete. Such is the verdict of reason and experience. The latter pre- sents an open book eloquent in testimony of the ills which follow an ungodly up- bringing. The former convinces us that man has spiritual faculties which can be perfected to their fullest extent by religion alone. Moreover, viewed from a merely human standpoint, life is an inevitable failure. We war against enemies who . eventually cast us into the grave, conquered. Illu- sions of victory may be many and strong to buoy us up till our allotted time is fin- ished. Victory itself is impossible. As well expect the bleating lamb to outrun the swift-footed wolf, as man to flee the relent- in 118 TEACHER AND TEACHING less universal reaper in safety. There awaits us all the "one far-off divine event to which the whole creation moves," death, defeat. In sober moments this conviction is uppermost in all men's souls. Art and literature bespeak it pathetically and elo- quently. Authors as far apart in educa- tion and temperament as the writer of the "Book of Wisdom," Chrysostom, Turge- nieff, Shakespeare, Shirley, Tennyson and a thousand others, press it home upon us with the passionate conviction peculiar to a thought which arises from the human heart so spontaneously and irresistibly that it must be spoken in hot, eloquent words. Life on earth is broken, incom- plete. Its complement lies beyond the clouds, in Heaven. It is our duty to at- tain thereto. This can be done only by re- ligion. There should therefore be no doubt about the necessity and fitness of religious education. Our boys have a right to it. Parents and teachers are obliged to give it. How to do this is a question worthy of consideration. The problem, tangled by TEACHER AND TEACHING 119 its very nature, is made doubly difficult by present-day circumstances. Eadical democracy is the fashion of the hour. That never yet made for faith and God, but only for unfaith and gods. Under its spell men are not content to see darkly. They must see clearly or not at all. They measure God by themselves, not themselves by God. So their god becomes identified with the will of man, an imperfect, sinning thing groping towards a perfection which it will never reach. Consequently the teacher's first task is to persuade his pupils that to see darkly is the lot of man on earth. Human vision, howsoever keen, cannot be the measure of the greatness of the Creator. The poor flickering light of the human intellect can- not illuminate the inscrutable abyss of God's majesty. The plummet of the hu- man heart is lost in sounding the depths of the love and goodness of God. In the very nature of things, religion must con- tain an element of mystery. It were a sham else, a fraud, a lie. This must be brought home to boys. Then they must be 120 TEACHER AND TEACHING inspired with a holy reverence and awe for the infinite, all-holy personal God in whom they live and move and are. Nothing is too small to be of consequence in this matter. Disregard of the small leads to contempt of the great. Irrever- ence in church or at prayer betokens a di- minishing respect for Him who is the Lord of church and prayers and all things else. The final outcome may be calamitous for the soul. Hence no effort should be spared to foster in the boy a spirit of intense re- spect for all that pertains tio God. Church services and the teacher's habitual atti- tude towards God should all impress the youth with the dignity and importance of religion. Though reverence for religion may be acquired without much knowledge of doc- trine, yet it cannot survive for long under such a condition. For this and other rea- sons the question of proper instruction is of utmost importance. This instruction is of two kinds, informal and formal. The first named can be given at any time and in diverse ways. Occasions for it are al- TEACHER AND TEACHING ways at hand. Private conversations, apt hints, pictures, biographies of holy, zeal- ous laymen such as Ozanam and Moreno, all lend themselves to it easily and profit- ably. Formal instruction presents greater difficulties. Boys do not take kindly to catechism and sermons. Their attitude to- wards them is often that of passive resist- ance. Occasionally there is some justifi- cation for this disedifying condition. The dreariest remembrances of a schoolboy's career sometimes centre round the lesson in religion and the sermon. Likely as not, the former consists of a spiritless, monot- onous repetition of questions and answers, while the former is often vague and im- practicable. Yet the great justification of our schools is not Latin or Greek or his- tory or mathematics, but religious train- ing. It is for this that Catholic fathers and mothers make yearly sacrifices which are simply stupendous, and it is this above all else which should call to the best that is in the teacher. His preparation for a lesson in religion should be diligent and 122 TEACHER AND TEACHING minute; his instruction intelligent, lively, varied. Question and answer should play their part, but they are not everything. They must be vivified, made practical, brought into touch with life by story and illustration. They are dead things into which the teacher must inject a palpitat- ing soul that will appeal to imagination, intellect and will. Eeligion is also life, and life belongs to more than one faculty. The student who leaves college with no re- ligious training save that implied in a mere knowledge of doctrine is in a fair way to becoming a devil, the more wicked because of his knowledge. Yards of questions and answers will not save his soul. Something else is required, an upright life. In that lies salvation. The boy must live the doc- trine from early youth. This demands an atmosphere fit to support and strengthen life. A dull page had by rote cannot ac- complish such a condition. Monotony saps vigor and life itself. There should then be variety of method in our teaching. Chart and picture and story appeal strongly to high-school boys, and are by TEACHER AND TEACHING 123 no means scorned by older students. These latter profit most of all by intelli- gent discussions conducted with as little interference as possible from the teacher. A topic, such as the infallibility of the Pope, can be assigned to a bright student for defence. Other members of the class should be appointed to search out and urge objections. This privilege, however, should not be confined exclusively to a se- lected few. All should be allowed and even urged to enter the lists. Such exer- cises, if not too frequent, have a wonder- fully stimulating effect, and give to the les- son a value hard to acquire from any other source. Mature boys also take an interest in preparing essays on religious topics to be read in the class-room before their fel- lows. Success will attend all these meth- ods of instruction if the teacher is sym- pathetic and helpful, not cynical and fussy. Sermons to college boys offer particu- lar difficulties. The choice of subjects, the manner of presentation, the lessons to be drawn, all present their own problems. It goes without saying that preparation is 184 TEACHER AND TEACHING required for success in this work. Boys do not expect eloquence in every man, but they do expect clearness of presentation and dignity of style. Neither is possible without forethought. This is often con- spicuously absent. Many a time the text from Scripture is the only clear, incisive part of the sermon. The rest is "shoes and ships and sealing-wax and cabbages and kings. " Some men, too, preach their eccentricities. They forget the Eum opor- tet crescere, me autem minui. Their vain- glory is too much for them. They pro- ject themselves into sacred scenes and places in a manner which gives occasion for merriment and remarks far from con- soling and complimentary. Bad as is the vainglorious sermon, there is another still worse, the baseball or football sermon. No doubt points can be scored by an occa- sional prudent use of apt illustrations drawn from the campus. But to preach as if "Spalding's Guide" were a text-book in homiletics is to cheapen religion and de- grade a sacred function. The effect on the boys is the very opposite of that de- TEACHER AND TEACHING 125 sired. Much as they love the field, they resent its encroachment on the sanctuary. They look for something higher: sermons that are short, clear, vigorous, practical, spiritual. But when all has been said, it must be granted that sermons, lessons and discus- sions will be of little avail unless the boy is brought to live the doctrines taught. "We are saddened at times by lapses of our pupils from their early practices. They reject the milk and honey of their Father's house for the husks that swine do eat. They exchange the liberty of the sons of God for the bondage of sin. Why? Per- haps because their growth in spirit was automatic rather than loving and spon- taneous. The gong sounded, and they went to Mass by force of rule or tradition. They bowed and genuflected and sang without thought of the significance of their acts. Their attendance on the sacraments was a function instead of an outgoing of the soul to God. Religion was more ex- terior than interior, more a thing of sense and tradition than of the soul. There was 126 TEACHER AND TEACHING much of the wheel and cog about it, and lit- tle of life. In the end temptation came and stirred the soul deeper than religion. The result is better conjectured than described. This can be prevented. Both teacher and confessor can play a part in averting it. The latter can do so by making each con- fession tell on the boy's soul in the man- ner dictated by experience and theological training. The task of the former is a bit more difficult. His one hope of success lies in making religion part and parcel of the life of the boy's soul. This is not easy. Boys live by the senses rather than by the spirit. Their religion is apt to be a thing of sense, the more so that Catholicism ap- peals so strongly to the lower faculties. Of course this appeal is just what it should be. For these faculties are creatures, and should be led captive to God. They are channels of knowledge, and should be used for that purpose. But that religion should proceed no further than eye and ear is monstrous. Architecture, painting, sculp- ture, vestments are symbols of a reality which should stir the spirit to its very TEACHER AND TEACHING 127 depths. Lights, flowers, incense, music should make their ultimate appeal to the soul. Do they do so ? Not always. The boy is not taught to look beyond the symbols. He becomes absorbed in them to the neg- lect of that which is symbolized. The Mass, the great gift of God to men, the Mass, at once a sacrament and a sacrifice, a history and a pathetic drama with cli- max and anti-climax, is but a passing show, a brave pageant, without inner meaning. There are lights and vestments and chants and incense and bows and genuflections, all awesome no doubt, but almost mean- ingless to the young soul. So too of other sublime offices of the ritual. There is no just appreciation of their significance, and hence no reaction strong enough to induce the formation of vigorous habits of virtue. The boy's attitude is much like that attrib- uted by Plato to those captives in a cave, who ascribed all that went on in the world above them to the shadows which flitted on the walls of their prison. Shadows and symbols are everything to the lads. They weave therefrom a web of 128 TEACHER AND TEACHING romance and mystery, pleasing enough, perhaps, but wholly unfit to bridge the abyss of life. Bookishness, shallowness, formalism of instruction is the cause of this. Too much is attempted, too little done with life and energy. Christ is not made to stand out in all and through all. He does not become a living reality. He is more mythical than real. He is ob- scured in word, and obscured very often in devotion. And so the young soul re- mains unconscious of the beauty and sub- limity of His character, and never becomes attracted to Him with a real personal love. Herein is the secret of many spiritual dif- ficulties of later life. The corrective is within the teacher's power. Through the grace of God he must impart apt knowl- edge to the boys, generate ardent convic- tions in their minds, create passionate at- tachment to right in their souls. Then all will be well with the pupils. For everything will speak to them of God. Joy and sorrow, success and failure will be His messengers, men His image, books His mouthpiece, nature His robe. He will TEACHER AND TEACHING 129 dwell in the silence of the forest, brood in majesty over the rolling sea, rule in the raging tempest, whisper in the gentle breeze : God everywhere, in all and through all. Boys who appreciate this will never go far astray. They will realize with Bus- kin that "to live is nothing unless to live be to know Him by whom we live. ' ' Then in the end they will repeat with convic- tion: Plurima qu&sivl, per singula quceque cucurri, Nee quidquam inveni melius quam cre- dere Christo. CHAPTER XI SOCIOLOGY AND CATHOLIC EDUCATION PBESENT-DAY society presents a picture which is far from exhilarating. Masses are in conflict with classes ; morals are bad, lawlessness is rife, and, worst of all, many good men, in despair of a remedy, have become inactive and pessimistic. Yet there must be an offset to the evils of the times. Strife and discontent are not new in the world. The voice of revolution and anarchy has been heard before. Virtue has been in rags and tatters ere this, and vice has paraded in satin and broadcloth. Society has been in desperate straits many a time. And it has always passed through them in safety, albeit weakened and per- chance a bit shattered. Sensual, grovel- ling Eome died, and the State lived on. 130 TEACHER AND TEACHING 131 The frantic era of the Reformation went its way and left society after it. The cold, cynical, rationalistic eighteenth century disappeared, and the State survived. And God's arm is not shorter now than then. His intellect has not lost its power, nor His will its strength. He is not puzzled nor conquered nor intimidated by the ex- cesses of men. He is still the God of na- tions. The State as well as the individual is His creature. Society is His work and His care. He can redeem it and sanctify it once again. For its redemption and sanctification are bound up with the re- generation of each individual soul, a result easy of attainment through the super- abounding merits of the Blessed Savior. Pure hearts make a worthy State; and pure hearts are not beyond God's power. But it is to God, and to Him alone, that we must look for relief in the present crisis. There is neither remedy for vice nor promise of progress save by and through the observance of His law. Men cannot be dragooned into virtue. The bayonet may pierce the heart; it cannot TEACHER AND TEACHING reform it. Statutes may promote public decency; they cannot furnish props for a sin-laden State. Eventually, Vis consili expers mole ruit sua. Eeligion is the one sure foundation of society. Balzac was only half right in as- serting that Christianity is the greatest element of social order. It is more than that. It is the fundamental element. Without it all other elements are vain and useless. True, the wisdom of the world does not reckon with this. But the wisdom of the world has failed for many a century ; and it were time now to give the folly of the Cross some consideration. The reform of society, even in the sense intended by advanced sociologists, pertains primarily to Christianity. La morale chretienne n'est pas sociale is an outrage on truth and other virtues alike. Christ's mission was also sociological in the highest and truest sense. There never was and never will be a more successful social reformer than Our Lord. And this for the very reason that sociology and re- ligion are inseparable. Sociology without TEACHER AND TEACHING 133 religion is a fraud; religion without so- ciology is cant. Imagine a sociology with- out the works of mercy ! Nothing could be more absurd, save perhaps a heaven with- out God. And yet these self samer works of mercy are part and parcel of Christ's gospel. He taught them and practised them. He instructed the ignorant, coun- ^selled the doubtful, admonished sinners, comforted the sorrowful, fed the hungry, gave drink to the thirsty, clothed the naked, visited the sick, cleansed the lep- rous, strengthened the palsied, gave sight to the blind, speech to the dumb, hearing to the deaf. " Jesus went about all the cities and towns, teaching in the syna- gogues and preaching the Gospel of the Kingdom, and healing every disease and every infirmity." All these He did, and so much store did He set by them that He offered them as proofs of His Messiah- ship. "Go and relate to John what you have heard and seen. The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead rise again, the poor have the Gospel preached to them." 134 TEACHER AND TEACHING This is real sociology. Heaven is its pith and substance: the works of mercy done in the spirit of Christ, for the glory of God and the regeneration of the body politic. And this kind alone is helpful. Other species are debasing to the helper and the helped. To teach the young the laws of hygiene and external decorum without attempting anything further, is to labor at the formation of semicultured pagans whose very gifts will be a menace to the State. There will be outward glow and show, and inward rottenness. To dole out food to men without inspiring them with Christian self-reliance or resignation as need may demand, is to generate a race of paupers. To pension the poor without consideration of the virtue which should be peculiar to their condition, is to increase an already huge army of impudent and ungrateful parasites, who will bleed the State to the last drop without generous thought of neighbor or of God, the giver of all bounty. There is no sociology in this, but only sickly sentimentalism, or ' t slumming, ' ' the debased and debasing di- TEACHER AND TEACHING 135 version of divorcees and powdered dam- sels. Mere benevolence, philanthropy, will not solve social problems. Nations have thought so. Their ashes are a mon- ument to their success. Philanthropy flourishes exceedingly amongst us to-day. It was never more conspicuous. Neither were our national vices. Charity is needed the virtue that puts Christ, and not the name of the sor- did millionaire, into the hearts of the poor and unfortunate. It is only through char- ity that our modern shibboleth ''the fa- therhood of God and the brotherhood of man" has a true meaning. We are chil- dren of the Father and brothers of one another in and by and through Christ. We remain such by imitating Him. Christ is charity, not philanthropy. This is the mind and spirit of the Church. Such the ideal to which she has been so true that even her arch enemies admire her for this feature of her life. Guizot, in contemplating this characteris- tic, was forced to admit that she has played a grand part in the history of civilization. 136 TEACHER AND TEACHING She emerged from the catacombs torn and bleeding, to begin her open life in a society composed of an army of slaves, lustful freemen, dames whose names were a hiss- ing and a byword, and a few harmless ora- tors. The State was rotten to its very nerves and fibres, heartless as a tiger, tyrannous as a demon. And yet in the face of all this the Church found a way to inaugurate sociological works which com- pel universal admiration. The sick, the maimed, the orphan were gathered into hospitals and homes, and treated with ten- derness as brothers of Christ. A special Order was instituted for the care of the poor. The Master's mantle covered many shoulders and warmed many hearts to he- roic deeds of love. There were many men like Laurence, who, under orders to sur- render the treasures of the Church to the State, presented to the Eoman officials a multitude of maimed and miserable peo- ple. And this spirit lived in the mission- ers who, century after century, stalked forest and jungle in search of men to whom they might impart both religion and the TEACHER AND TEACHING 137 useful arts and sciences. The greatest body of sociologists who ever lived were the Benedictines. They set a standard which has never been surpassed and is but poorly imitated. One-third of the French towns owed their origin to these monks. Their monasteries rose in trackless for- ests, and became schools for the children, hospitals for the sick, almshouses for the poor and inns for the weary travellers. Therein the arts of peace flourished for long ages, enriching the world with mas- terpieces which adorn many a modern mu- seum. Under the care of these men wild souls were tamed, rough manners became gentle, sleeping intellects awoke, clumsy hands grew skilful. Life took on new val- ues. The nomad tribe became a civilized society with Christ as Guide and Master. True sociology scored a victory. It would score another, were it brought into play. For the Church can meet every need. She has a remedy for every ill. Her divine Founder foresaw all, and provided in ac- cordance with His prevision. And never was there greater necessity 138 TEACHER AND TEACHING of the Church's doctrines and practices. Unreasonable individualism, the Gallic Egalitairism in which the French Bevolu- tion focused, has done a sad work. Its in- fluence is felt in religious, social and eco- nomic spheres. Men are living for them- selves. They will not subordinate one tithe of their ambitions to the general good. Charity is crushed. Philanthropy, in many cases at least, is a personal gratifi- cation of vainglory. The union and fra- ternity without which the State cannot ex- ist is growing less and less. Authority is disrespected. Laws are framed for classes, and violated both by classes and masses. The insolent rich have become irresponsible and the poor truculent. Fraud and lust are gnawing at the vitals of the State. Plato was wont to represent society as an organism in which individ- uals are the organs. How long can such an organism subsist, head at war with hands, neck at war with shoulders, heart at war with lungs t The application is ap- parent. Conditions would be far different were TEACHER AND TEACHING 139 Catholic doctrines followed. Individual and class interests would be subordinated to the common good. Authority would be considered God-given, not man-made. Laws would take on new sanctions. The rich would learn that they are but stewards of wealth, responsible to God for its use and abuse. The poor would be taught the nobility of labor and patience under trial. They would seek relief through legitimate means, understanding that it were better to suffer an ill than to sin in righting it. Christ would be reproduced in souls. And that is the one thing needed. More of Christ, and less of shower-baths and ath- letic meets and stereopticon lectures, would do a deal to straighten out tangled condi- tions. Catholic educators should be the fore- most in effecting this. Times and condi- tions have changed. Methods must change with them. Formerly the priest was the sole agent of the work. He cannot be so any longer. A wave of radicalism has alienated many from him. Our cities are teeming with aliens, ignorant of our 140 TEACHER AND TEACHING language, shy of our religious customs, strangers in a strange land, whom priests cannot reach, but whom wolves in sheep's clothing do reach. The layman must go down amongst these waifs and bring Christ unto them. But laymen will not do so unless they are brought to an early realization of their powers and responsibilities in this mat- ter. For obvious reasons, this is the work of Catholic instructors, a work sadly neg- lected. In one of our large cities, less than five per cent, of the active members of the St. Vincent de Paul Society are col- lege men, and less than fifteen per cent, of the workers in the Ozanam Society had the advantages of academic training. Hard-working clerks and salesmen are the principal laborers in these guilds. They are the Christophers, while the college men of large opportunities, and hence of greater responsibilities, hold aloof from the holy work almost entirely. There is no excuse for this, and there is but one satis- factory explanation for it: the apathy of TEACHER AND TEACHING 141 Catholic teachers. Boys pass through col- lege unaware of the ignorance and help- lessness to which so many splendid fellows are condemned through no fault of their own. How can our students desire to help others, if they never realize the needs of others? How can they be expected to ex- tend active charity to others, if they are neither taught their obligations nor in- spired with a desire to fulfil them? Men argue that it is impossible to inter- est American boys in such matters. This is not true. Secular universities have in- terested their students in them. More- over, our boys do not fall short of Span- ish, Belgian, German or English boys in idealism and enthusiasm for good. They do fall far short of them in practical works of charity. Teachers may look for the reason in their own conduct, not in the slackness of their pupils. This is all the more unfortunate in view of the ever-in- creasing need of Catholic lay workers among poor boys. Fine but untrained boys, with good religious instincts, are 142 TEACHER AND TEACHING neglected at the critical period of their lives, only to become the prey of Socialists arid Anarchists. The harvest is white, but too large for the number of laborers. The remedy for this deficiency is not far to seek. Simple, definite instructions and sympathetic talks to young students, a rational course in so- ciology for older boys, would accomplish much. Senior students would profit too by intercourse with social workers; by well-directed participation in the activi- ties of the Ozanam Society ; by attendance at meetings in which social needs and cor- rective ways and means are discussed; by reading the literature of the St. Vincent de Paul Society and the Eunomic Club. All this can be brought about by Cath- olic teachers. They can plant a seed which will sprout and grow, and blossom and bear fruit in the later life of their stu- dents. To this they are obliged. They are their brother's keeper. In the end their stewardship will be scrutinized and appraised. And Christ has said: "De- part from me, . . . for I was hungry, and TEACHER AND TEACHING 143 you gave me not to eat : I was thirsty, and you gave me not to drink : I was a stranger, and you took me not in: naked, and you covered me not: sick, and in prison, and you did not visit me." Truly, a terrible sanction on neglect of social duties. But who neglects these more than the teacher careless of his obligations in this regard? CHAPTER XII THE BOY AND THE SECULAR LIFE of affairs are at present vigorously debating the question of the practical value of college education in business. Their opinions are various and often directly con- tradictory. The self-made man sees no ad- vantage in higher education. He has suc- ceeded without it. Therefore, it cannot be of any use. On the contrary, likely as not, it will prove a hindrance to progress. It converts men into idealists, makes them unpractical, and thus renders them unfit to grapple with the ever-changing prob- lems of these strenuous times. These statements are generally followed by an array of statistics quoted with an air of supreme confidence. The confidence, how- ever, is not born of the arguments. They scarcely call for analysis or refutation. 144 TEACHER AND TEACHING 145 Even the blear-eyed can look through them without great effort. Yet since it is al- ways interesting to observe how a man hoists himself with his own petard, a word of retort may not be entirely vain. Money, influence, dignity, constitute the self-made man's norm of success. Be it so. Noth- ing could serve our purpose better, nor his worse. Computation based on the study of fifteen thousand " successful" careers shows that men with academic training have two hundred and fifty chances of suc- cess against the one poor chance of persons who are not college-bred. Even though observation be confined to the narrow lim- its of the purely industrial and commercial field, yet the college man loses nothing in comparison with his companions who have not had the advantage of higher education. One in every six of the sometime students of New York institutions who have become eminent, attained their success in business. In this sphere the college man has forty chances of success against the one chance of non-college men. So much for statistics and the inferences 146 TEACHER AND TEACHING drawn from them. No doubt both one and the other are partial, and to some extent misleading. But they are the self-made man's stock in trade. They are his weap- ons of attack. Under compulsion, they be- come our instruments of defence. Condi- tions render a poor boomerang more ef- fectual than a Mauser. But apart from all this, it is clear that college training by its very nature fits man the better for the battle of life. More- over, life is more than bread and meat. The soul and its gifts count for something. Hence, so does culture of the spirit. This is obvious enough to make argument un- necessary. We could wish, however, that the fact were driven into the hearts of Catholics so hard and fast that they would be forced to pay more attention to col- legiate education. Nineteen per cent, of all students of higher education in the en- tire United States are found in the Col- leges of New York, and yet the number of Catholics in this throng is relatively small. Each year two thousand boys are gradu- ated from the parochial schools of one New TEACHER AND TEACHING 147 York diocese alone, and of these likely chaps only a very small proportion enter high schools. Probably the dismissal pic- ture is equally true of Catholic youths who attend the city schools. The consequences are not pleasant to contemplate. In the main, our men of the next generation will be hewers of wood and drawers of water distinctly inferior to those about them, intellectually and in all other ways save morally. Yet an unused remedy lies at hand. But, as we said, dis- cussion of this is not our main purpose. Bather we wish to give attention to the sec- ular careers of those who actually frequent our colleges. Many of these boys need advice and other assistance in order to start well in life. As a rule, they get neither. Through lack of interest and proper organization the alumni societies are of little help. In most places alumni and students are sep- arated by a gap almost as broad and deep and formidable as that which separated Dives from Father Abraham. There is a dinner once a year, at which graduates are 148 TEACHER AND TEACHING inducted into the society. They come into personal contact with the old men for the first time, and only for a moment. Ac- quaintance is most casual. At the dinner the president of the society announces that a committee of the alumni will sit in the parlor to offer advice to the young men. As is clear, the capacity of the parlor is overtaxed by the number of youths who are anxious to consult these all but total strangers about a profession. Comment is unnecessary. Teachers are often of as little help. Their duties and manner of life keep them out of touch with doctors' offices and law courts and markets. They have, then, no information to give. In view of this, per- haps they may find a few items helpful and even interesting. It is significant of the condition of professions like law and medi- cine that the drift of graduates is almost altogether away from them. A century ago law attracted more men than any other profession save the ministry. Times have changed and choice of professions has changed with them. A recently compiled TEACHER AND TEACHING 149 list of graduates of twenty-seven repre- sentative and widely distributed colleges reveals the fact that teaching claims twenty-five per cent, of the younger grad- uates, business twenty per cent., law fif- teen per cent, and medicine six per cent. This drift is most natural. Law and medi- cine have fallen in popular estimation. Moreover, despite the decrease in the num- ber of educated men who follow them, they are both overcrowded. Hordes of in- ferior, untrained, unscrupulous youths have pushed themselves into these profes- sions, with sad effect on the morale of both. This is especially true of law. Our large cities are stocked with lawyers who live by their wits, not unfrequently off widows or other unsuspecting women. Criminal law is becoming positively odious. Self-re- specting men, who must earn their bread and butter, had better think twice before casting in their lot with it. Then too, be- sides the unworthy lawyers, there are oth- ers, honest fellows, whose fees from draw- ing wills and collecting evidence scarcely equal the salary of well-paid clerks. In 150 TEACHER AND TEACHING one city of less than two hundred thousand inhabitants there is an over-supply of one thousand five hundred lawyers. Of course, there is always room for a man of talent, energy and character. But not every college man is such. Some lack one or other quality. Others lack all three. Advisers should take this into con- sideration. Moreover, they should give thought to the particular branch of law for which a boy is best fitted. A youth with absolutely no scientific instinct is not apt to meet with success at patent law. He may succeed, however, by making a spe- cialty of real estate. This offers a double chance for an honest competence; one through the practice entailed, the other by throwing open legitimate avenues of spec- ulation closed to many who are unaware of the opportunities. Bright young lawyers often fail to make progress because they are not put suffi- ciently upon their mettle. They should en- ter new and uncrowded fields as strangers determined to succeed. The writer has in mind seven young men who owe their sue- TEACHER AND TEACHING 151 cess more to the fortunate choice of place than to talent. Acting under advice, they set themselves down in growing western cities with the happiest results. Applied science offers numerous oppor- tunities for college men. Electrical sys- tems of various kinds must be managed, bridges must be built, sewage disposed of, roads constructed, streets opened and graded, and so forth. Hence there is con- stant demand for electrical, sewage, me- chanical and civil engineers. Some find employment in the engineering depart- ments of our cities, others get places on the staffs of great companies. Then too, wholesale groceries, sugar refineries, mills and the chemical departments of city hos- pitals all need chemists. And so on through a long list of opportunities af- forded by applied science. "Why not turn the attention of our boys this way? There is room for the college graduate. Only three per cent, of this generation of gradu- ates take up engineering. Despite pessimistic reports, there are also chances in business for the right kind 152 TEACHER AND TEACHING of a boy. The great telephone companies employ numbers of youths in positions which are entirely honorable and lucrative for beginners. Each year the Standard Oil Company seeks college men for work in Asia. Salaries are high, and chances of advancement are fair. Other large companies are only too glad to place col- lege men amongst their employes. Busi- ness is expanding enormously, especially along certain lines, and needs trained in- tellects more than ever. For instance, some fifteen years ago a motor vehicle was a novel sight in the United States. Now there are one million such vehicles in use. The factories turned out $400,000,000 worth of automobiles of various kinds dur- ing the year 1913. The promises for 1914 are equally fair. According to one esti- mate 600,000 cars will be manufactured. There is almost as much activity in other branches of business. The real estate market and contracting, for example, are continually assuming larger proportions. College men should share in this general prosperity. To do so, however, they TEACHER AND TEACHING 153 should be willing to begin humbly and climb high by merit. This is the only sen- sible process. Meteoric careers are apt to be brief. The right precedent has been set by men like the late manager of the Pennsylvania Railroad, who, after com- pleting his technical education, began life as a rodman. Educated youths might study such a career with profit. Many young men are deterred from en- tering business by fear of a penniless old age. They dread the prospect of giving their best years to a company which will throw them aside after their usefulness begins to diminish. This objection, once very real, is gradually losing its force. A good number of reputable companies have already established generous pension funds. Others are contemplating a like step. Thus the United States Steel Cor- poration, the American Telephone Co., the Armour Co., the Morris Co., the Westing- house Air-Brake Co., the Wells Fargo Co., the Adams Express Co., the Gorham Man- ufacturing Co., the American Sugar Re- fining Co., and the International Harvester 154 TEACHER AND TEACHING Co. all have funds. Some of these funds are really huge, and the conditions under which employes may profit by them are not hard. Besides all the ways enumerated, there are many other honorable means of liveli- hood. Most of them are so well known that it is unnecessary to dwell upon them. Teaching, the army and navy, government service at home and in the colonies, all af- ford dignified, though not enormously lucrative ways of making a living. The whole crux of this question is not so much lack of opportunities as want of men charitable enough to take an interest in struggling boys. Alumni societies can easily remedy this. Let them be' assured that it is a great charity both to assist young graduates by advice and to exert influence that the boys may begin their ca- reers auspiciously. Bread cast upon the water is returned twofold. CHAPTER XIII THE BOY AND THE PRIESTHOOD HAPPINESS and unhappiness, success and failure, salvation and damnation, are so intimately connected with the choice of a state of life, that all who are interested in boys should give the subject serious con- sideration. Boys must face the future. They must choose a vocation. A happy choice is an earnest of a happy, useful life. An unhappy choice is the prelude of an unhappy, useless life. Though this is universally true, yet it has special reference to the priesthood. The unworthy priest is at once the most pitiable and wretched of men. The giant of the forest, towering high above its fel- lows in the full vigor of a more bounteous life, is suddenly struck by a ruthless bolt, and thereafter stands among its kindred 155 156 TEACHER AND TEACHING a forlorn, withered thing, fit only for a base use or the destroying fire. Its for- mer preeminence but makes its present low estate the more noticeable and pathetic. Thus it is with the priest shattered by the bolt of sin. His face stamped with an in- delible, indescribable seal not of earth, he moves amongst his fellows, an uncanny creature whose very presence fills godly hearts with pity and sorrow, and causes godly lips to move instinctively in prayer. The salt of the earth has lost its savor, and it is fit for naught save to be cast out and to be trodden on by men. The man's hopes and life are blasted. So too are the hopes and lives of many who depend on him for the bread of the word and the water that springs unto eternal life. If the shep- herding be faithless, the flock will be decimated. The ravening wolf is never far distant, and noxious weeds and pol- luted fountains abound on every side. There is call, then, for supremest care in the choice of candidates for the priest- hood. And since teachers in Catholic schools are amongst the agents whom God TEACHER AND TEACHING 157 deigns to use for the recruiting of the ranks of His ministry, it were well for them to take thought on their duty and oppor- tunities in this regard. Above all, the teacher should convince himself that he has an obligation in this matter. That this is the case is too obvious to demand discussion. Moreover, apart from any consideration of duty, he were a queer man indeed who did not experience great joy in sending youths forth to an anointing whereby they become other Christs, mes- sengers of glad tidings, angels of peace and mercy, priests of prayer and sacrifice, guardians of a sublime office, who perpet- uate the Eedeemer and His work on earth. The true teacher's soul is filled with joy- ous earnestness for this cause. Prudence alone sets bounds to his zeal. His activ- ity is constant, but yet tactful by reason of guidance from sound principles. These principles are plain and easy of compre- hension. First of all, the priesthood is a free gift of God to man. No one has a right to it. Station, wealth, learning, influence, sane- 158 TEACHER AND TEACHING tity, nothing save the call constitutes a claim to it. Ordinarily, this call is vouch- safed to persons who possess certain well- defined gifts, natural and supernatural. The doctors of the Church are in substan- tial agreement on this point. In fact, the trivial divergences of opinion which are sometimes noted are verbal rather than real. St. Alphonsus groups these gifts under three categories, St. Thomas under two. But the two categories of the latter include the three of the former. And ulti- mately both doctors make it clear that learning, sanctity and an upright intention are requisite in candidates for the priest- hood. But to what extent should these charac- teristics exist in boys who contemplate the priestly life? For surely, as much cannot be expected of them as of seminarians who are about to receive major orders. Quite true. And it is just here that teachers make mistakes. They refuse encourage- ment to those who do not measure up to the very highest standards. They err in expecting too much of striplings. Heroic TEACHER AND TEACHING 159 virtue and great knowledge are slow growths. An Aloysius seldom graces the world by his presence, and Aquins do not strut about in knickerbockers. Something should be left to the seminaries and scholasticates. It is theirs to impart priestly virtues and priestly knowledge. Ordinary Christian virtues, such as purity, the habit of prayer, patience and docility, coupled with mediocrity in studies, should be sufficient to commend a boy to the zeal- ous attention of his master. Most of these virtues and their opposite vices call for no discussion. They can be passed over in silence without fear that their nature or importance will be misunderstood. This is not true, however, of other quali- ties of soul. To our mind there are traits of character often overlooked, which jus- tify a teacher in refusing to promote a boy's ambition for the priesthood. Amongst these are ingrained selfishness, habitual untruthfulness which often ap- pears instinctive rather than rational, a sad lack of judgment, and a grotesque, clownish instability. In defects such as 160 TEACHER AND TEACHING these, the child is invariably father to the man. And when the man is a priest, the result is shameful and harrowing. The Church blushes at her minister's defects and weeps in impotency over the harm wrought by them. Yet these faults show themselves incor- rigible early in life. They are woven into the warp and woof of the soul and cannot be torn out. There are boys so selfish that sacrifice or even consideration for others seems quite incomprehensible to them. Their thoughts and words and deeds are for self and self's interests. Their priest- hood will be for self and self's interests. Souls will be of minor importance. What can be expected of the young man whose heart is filled with dark angles? Gratuitous lies come to his lips as natu- rally as warts to a toad's back. He acts as if he had a mission to deceive as many as possible before death overtakes him. Nothing save a grace which would all but deprive him of his liberty will cure him of this. Such a grace is apparently rare. And the bungler. He goes bungling to TEACHER AND TEACHING 161 the grave. He is as tactless and impru- dent at sixty as he was at twenty. His taste is execrable. His judgment is warped. He cannot learn by mistakes. He burns his hands at the same fire, in the same way, twice a month. Wholesome ad- vice and honest criticism convince him that his work is superlatively good; otherwise it would not attract notice. He is right and all others are wrong. The priesthood will lose more than it will gain from such a man. The office of confessor, for in- stance, is too sacred and responsible for his kind. And there is no remedy. The defect is radical, a kink in the intellect which cannot be ironed out. Nor are we more hopeful of the boy who veers with every breeze, dances with every piping and laments with every mourning. He is a hale-fellow-well-met. He adapts himself to moods and opinions and actions and atmospheres readily and recklessly, with no apparent concern. As he grows into manhood he cultivates the graces of conversation, learns to sing a bit, and be- hold ! develops an apostolic vocation. Let 162 TEACHER AND TEACHING the family fireside be his missionary field. A grandfather's chair will make a more excellent pulpit for him. So much for the qualities undesirable in those who look forward to the clerical state. But what is the teacher's duty in so important an affair? To our mind his work is both creative and directive. Many theologians hold that the priestly vocation formally consists in a special in- ternal charisma, an extraordinary grace by which God sets a man aside for the priestly life. Over and above virtue, learning and a pure intention, they demand this special grace which destines a man for the office. This opinion is entitled to the highest respect. No doubt God often calls persons in the aforesaid way. Little children on whom no external influence has been brought to bear, evince an altogether supernatural desire for the holy state. And this desire grows with years, despite the most untoward conditions. The Holy Spirit is breathing in a special way over the face of the soul. Who dares gainsay it? But is this always the case? We do TEACHER AND TEACHING 163 not think so. In fact there is evidence to the contrary. Moreover, a recent decision of a special commission of Cardinals ap- pointed by His Holiness to settle a con- troversy bearing on this very topic, ex- pressly says "Conditionem, quae ex parte ordinandi debet attendi, quaeque vocatio sacerdotalis appellatur, nequaquam consis- tere, saltern necessario et de lege ordina- ria, in interna quadam adspiratione subjec- ti, sen incitamentis Spiritus Sancti, ad sa- cerdotium ineundum. Sed e contra, nihil plus in ordinando, ut rite vocetur ab epis- copo, requiri quam rectam intentionem simul cum idoneitate in iis gratiae et na- turae dotibus reposita, et per earn vitae probitatem ac doctrinae sufficientiam com- probata, quae spem fundatam facient fore ut sacerdotii munera recte obire ejus- demque obligationes sancte servare queat: esse egregie laudandam." At its very mildest, this denies that a vocation to the priesthood necessarily or even ordinarily supposes a special extraordinary charisma. Virtue and ability there must be, but no special extraordinary internal grace 164 TEACHER AND TEACHING prompting a man to assume the priestly office and dignity. A vocation, then, can be acquired. By God's help a man can grow fit for the call. He can get the requisite knowledge and virtue. He can acquire the generosity and strength of will necessary for the office and life. He can even con- ceive a very active, strong, loving desire for both, much in the same way that he can conceive any other supernatural desire. Hence, as we have said, a teacher's work can be both creative and directive. Cre- ative, in that by his life and labors he can become an instrument in God's hands both for adorning a boy's soul with the req- uisite intellectual and moral gifts and for inspiring him with the high ambition of consecrating his life to heaven. Directive, in that by advice and encouragement he can guide the lad safely to the seminary or scholasticate. Prudence is required for all this. No undue influence should be ex- ercised. There should be no cajoling, no nagging. Both are unjust intrusions on a boy's liberty. The result will be either scorn on the lad's part, or an imaginary TEACHER AND TEACHING 165 desire for better things, which will disap- pear under the first stiff trial. On the other hand, the teacher should do his best to inspire the boys with holy ambition. He should light in their hearts the fire of zeal for great causes and keep it all aglow. This is not only legitimate. It is a duty. For all men should realize that God expects them to go down to the grave leaving the world better and sweeter for their presence. Boyhood, not the evening of life, is the proper time for such a realization. And the master is an agent for its consummation. This may be ac- complished by word, by an apt selection of books for the boys ' library, and, best of all, by example. Teachers live in an at- mosphere of their own creation. This at- mosphere is a reflex of the condition of their souls. By it boys are influenced for good or evil. They feel its effects, and judge from them the worth of the cause to which we have consecrated our lives. They cannot analyze, they cannot prove, but they can and do feel. They feel our frivolity, our neglect, our petty cares, our 166 TEACHER AND TEACHING childish dissatisfaction, our moroseness. That which is in the soul is radiated by the soul and affects others according to its na- ture. Good example, then, is a prime fac- tor in this great apostolate. The master's self-sacrifice, singleness of purpose, pa- tience, in short, his Christian heroism will turn the souls of his pupils to high ideals and holy aspirations. The priesthood is rather a natural sequence. But holy desires and aspirations are not always lasting. In fact they are so easily lost that their preservation demands con- stant care and watchfulness. The teacher should exercise both in an easy, natural way. In boys, worldliness and temptation to sin make their first and strongest ap- peal to the imagination. Companions, books and theatres often combine to lead this faculty captive. Once caught, the havoc is great. Prayer and attendance on the sacraments help to offset the evil in- fluence of these three. So too do many natural agents, vigorous play for instance, attractive books of travel, biography, his- tory and fiction. And every teacher knows TEACHER AND TEACHING 167 how to induce boys to make use of all these instruments of profit. Other directive agencies will be sug- gested by circumstances of time, place and persons. The teacher should use all to further so good a cause. And in the end his cup of joy will be well-nigh filled. An- other of his boys will go forth to the su- pernal vocation in Christ Jesus, a shep- herd of the lambs of God. CHAPTER XIV THE BOY AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE TEACHERS are often at a loss to know how to deal with boys who apply to them for advice concerning a vocation to the religious life. True the office of counsel- lor in such an affair pertains primarily to the confessor. However the master, es- pecially if he be a priest, cannot always refuse assistance to an earnest enquirer. For this reason it is well for each teacher to have in mind some simple principles to which he can call for guidance in time of need. Vocations to the religious life, like vo- cations to the priesthood, are of two kinds, internal and external. The former, which is by far the less common of the two, is a sign of God's special predilection for a soul. It consists of an extraordinary in- 168 TEACHER AND TEACHING 169 terior grace by which a person is urged one way or other, to choose the better part. Sometimes this urging is exercised through the medium of great sensible devotion, which would find an outlet for itself in the mode of life and work of a particular order or congregation. In such cases signs of the vocation are so marked as to be quite unmistakable. The boy involved contem- plates with joy the sacrifices demanded. Everything seems easy and pleasant to him. He has looked forward for years to the consummation of his desire. He is im- patient to begin the life. His interests are altogether centred in it. Each delay in the execution of his cherished wish causes disappointment and even, keen regret. The finger of God is surely here. The vo- cation is clear. Teachers need have no misgivings about any encouragement which they may choose to give in such a contingency. But there are times when special voca- tions are manifested in an entirely differ- ent way. Often there is a strong and al- most overpowering sensible repugnance to 170 TEACHER AND TEACHING the manner of life indicated by the call. The very thought of a surrender of the will by a vow puts the soul in a state of darkness and turmoil and irrational re- sistance as if to some hostile, invisible force. Resolutions against surrender are frequent and forceful. Yet beneath all this there is a conviction that duty, hard, dry and repulsive, requires the much- feared sacrifice. No amount of quiet rea- soning lessens this conviction in any way. Moreover it is most importunate. Like Banquo's Ghost, it will not down. It is present to the mind the last moment at night and the first instant of the morning. It appears and reappears at frequent in- tervals during the day, even in the midst of distraction and gaiety. And its effect is always the same, disgust and resistance. Finally a sense of duty, unaided in any way by love, becomes too strong for op- position. The soul surrenders to God, despite pain and disgust, and travail that are indescribable. There has been a real internal vocation from the beginning, the stronger and the better by reason of the TEACHER AND TEACHING 171 struggle which it occasioned. Those who are called upon for counsel in cases of this kind should act slowly and cautiously. A little direction given now and then is far better than a hasty decision which sends a worried and disgusted chap off to a novitiate half against his will. He is in no mood to accept rigorous principles and strict discipline. And the outcome may be false appraisement on the part of supe- riors and a hasty exit on the part of the can- didate. Had the young man been allowed to fight his own battle and come to a more independent conclusion, the result would have been different. His convictions would have been on the side of duty and, though his soul might have been sad, yet it would not have been truculent. It had scored a victory and thereby made itself ready for new and more difficult conquests. This vocation of which we have been speaking, is uncommon enough. But there is a second kind, the external, which is far more common than is generally supposed. In nature it is quite different from the internal call. It is not a special, 172 TEACHER AND TEACHING interior grace. The call comes entirely from without, sometimes through the in- strumentality of scripture, sometimes through a sermon or an accident or sorrow or such like agencies. Though this call may be more insistent in some cases than in others, yet it is universal. It is an in- vitation extended to all to follow on close after our Lord. It is a privilege by which men are allowed to come nigh to Christ and live in His immediate presence. "If thou wilt be perfect go sell what thou hast and give to the poor and thou shalt have treasure in Heaven and come follow me." The lives of the saints furnish many strik- ing examples of this vocation. Thus was Ignatius called and Xavier and Francis Borgia and a host of others. All this appears so simple and natural, that it may be necessary to insist that even this kind of call demands definite prerequi- sites. Though universal, it is conditional. It is an invitation. And the acceptance of an invitation depends largely on the cir- cumstances in which the recipient finds himself. An evening reception is about to TEACHER AND TEACHING 173 be given to a distinguished person. Invi- tations are sent broadcast. The host would be delighted to welcome to his home all who have been bidden to attend the func- tion. Greetings will be cordial, hospi- tality lavish. Not all however will attend. Some are unwilling to submit to the eti- quette demanded by the occasion. They refuse to accept the conditions imposed by the very nature of the reception. Others again are delicate and fear to expose them- selves to the night air. They remain at home. In short all receive a perfectly genuine and sincere invitation. Many however either do not or cannot accept it, on account of purely subjective circum- stances. Mutatis mutandis, this applies to the general invitation by which our Lord bids men enter upon the way of the higher life. "A certain man made a great sup- per, and invited many. And he sent his servant at the hour of the supper to say to them that were invited, that they should come, for now all things are ready. And they began all at once to make excuse. The first said to him : I have bought a farm and 174 TEACHER AND TEACHING I must needs go out and see it : I pray thee, hold me excused. And another said: I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to try them; I pray thee, hold me excused. And another said: I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come. ' ' Herein is a type both of the call and the difficulties which men experience concerning it. This vocation then presupposes certain condi- tions. These can be summed in one word, fitness. Now fitness supposes the presence of certain intellectual and moral qualities and the absence of all obligations inconsis- tent with the religious state. As is clear, the aforesaid qualities may vary greatly. For instance, not all Orders and Congre- gations require the same ability in candi- dates. Some demand intellectual powers well above the ordinary; others are quite content with mediocre talents. Then too, minor moral traits which may prove an ob- stacle to happiness in one Order may not be a hindrance to success and contentment in another. This is most natural. The specific aim and work of various institutes differ widely. The aim of one requires TEACHER AND TEACHING 175 perpetual study: the work of another ne- cessitates travel, freedom, a large measure of self reliance and individuality. The scope of a third is inconsistent with all these. Its work which may be of a simple kind, is carried on almost exclusively within an enclosure, under constant super- vision and stimulus. Just as aim and work vary so too do rules. The rules reflect the spirit. The spirit is expressed in the work and the manner in which the work is ac- complished. Thus the rules of one Insti- tute are extremely strict in regard to pov- erty, those of another, in respect to obedi- ence. This order accomplishes its end by moving en masse, individual action sub- ordinated to the action of the whole body : that congregation insists on individuality and self assertion. The rules reflect all this. As a consequence, the qualities re- quired in candidates for different Orders or Congregations vary in accidentals at least. The boy who could not abide a Trappist's life might become an excellent Dominican or Franciscan. And on the other hand, a lad who would make a 176 TEACHER AND TEACHING poor Dominican or Franciscan might find a fit place amongst the Trappists. In other words, failure to meet the requirements of one institute does not imply unfitness for all modes of the religious life. Teachers should bear all this in mind and direct the boy with great singleness of purpose in a way that will subserve the glory of God and the boy's greater good. For after all Christ and His glory is our aim; not the aggrandizement of any particular body of men. We should rejoice exceedingly to be able to direct suitable candidates to any ap- proved Order or Congregation which is working well in God's vineyard. This is especially true of those holy, venerable or- ders which have adorned the church by sanctity and learning and profited the world beyond measure by fruitful labors. True zeal is not exclusive. Neither is it blind. It should therefore be regulated by prudence. The teacher's manner and method should all be above reproach. There is scarcely need of any delay on this last topic. The words written about it in "The Boy and the Priesthood" are quite TEACHER AND TEACHING 177 apropos in respect to the religious life ; and the qualities which are there set down as necessary for candidature for the priest- hood are in the main necessary for admis- sion into an order whose members become priests or teachers. Before closing however it might be well to say a word or two on the obligation of hearkening to the call and taking upon one's self the yoke which the Lord holds ready. Is there any obligation of obeying the call to the religious life? Some theo- logians assert that there is a grave obliga- tion of following the special vocation. In other words they teach that a person can- not repudiate the interior, extraordinary grace which constitutes the special voca- tion without serious sin and grave danger to eternal salvation. This doctrine ap- pears too rigorous. Proof of serious sin is lacking and though acceptance of the in- vitation may render salvation relatively easy, yet it is not at all clear that rejection of the call entails grave danger to eternal happiness. True, both sin and danger of damnation may be incurred in special cases, 178 TEACHER AND TEACHING for special reasons. An instance in point is found in the life of Blessed Margaret Mary. But such cases are exceptional and cannot be covered by a general law or state- ment. If the vocation is of the second kind, ex- ternal and universal, there is no danger of sin in refusing to accept it. The call is an invitation, a privilege of such a nature that man is not obliged to make use of it. Of course no one attempts to deny that in both cases refusal means loss of opportunities for great good. But the performance of this good is rather a matter of generosity than of strict obligation. LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.'S PUBLICATIONS EDUCATIONAL CLASSICS General Editor, JOHN WILLIAM ADAMSON, B.A., Professor of Education in the University of London. Each volume crown 8vo. Price $1.25 net. The volumes of this series are not books about the great educators, but are writings of the great educators them- selves in an English dress, accompanied by the minimum of explanatory matter from the pens of scholars especially conversant with the classical authors whose works they respectively edit. Each volume contains a short introduction, the aim of which is to present the significance, educational and his- torical, of the author with whom it deals, and the nature of the circumstances amidst which he wrote; but formal biographies are not included. The selections are made on a scale sufficient to exhibit the author's teaching adequately, and to enable the student to reach an independent judgment with reference to it. The Educational Writings of John Locke Edited by J. W. ADAMSON, B.A., Professor of Educa- tion, University of London. 283 pages. Pestalozzi's Educational Writings Edited by J. A. GREEN, M.A., Professor of Education, University of Sheffield. 340 pages. Vives and the Renascence Education of Women Edited by FOSTER WATSON, M.A., Professor of Edu- cation in the University College of Wales. Aberystwyth. 275 pages. Rousseau on Education Edited by R. L. ARCHER, M.A., Professor of Educa- tion in the University College of North Wales, Bangor. 297 pages. 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IF EDUCATIO NOT RETURNED TO M LIBRARY QUARTER LOAN 1 ^^Owr APR 2 1979 NOV 22 1960 APR S IPPt __ fy f <, '.o--* rrR 2 6 1962^ JAN 1 2 1942 SEP 3 1943 MAR 5 1962 MAR 1 2 1962 APR 5 1962 RECEIV-D * 7 79 - 6 o^ MAY 13 1944 DEC 2 21949 APR 2 4 1962 MAY 1 4 T962 QL JUN 2 9 1981 JAN 1 2 1950 MAY 28 1 9B2 f IECEIVED , APR 2 9 1967 m 4 "81-3 PM $&$ RECEIVED EOfPSYCH LIB- tic YV 1951 1 NOVo 6RffiO APR 2 9 1967 W 1 3 1956 F mo./ PSYCH. ECElVffl* Rr JUL i 5 1960 Form L-9-15m-7,'31 J JWtflftB KD./ PSYCri. MDRARY _ 111111111 Hill If) || |f 1 1| flffl IIIJI |||| j || Librarx L 005 640 920 4 UNIVERSITY of CALIFORNIA Li.S nSG^L LIBRARY