TEACHER AND PUPIL.

Of the various callings to which the division of labor has caused man specially to devote himself, there is none to be compared for nobility or usefulness with that of the true teacher. Yet neither teachers nor people at present realize this truth.

Among the very few lessons of value which might be derived from so-called “classical” studies, is that of the proper estimate in which the true teacher should be held; for among the Greeks no calling or occupation was more honored. Yet with a strange perversity, albeit for centuries the precious time of youth has been wasted, and the minds and morals of the young perverted by “classical” studies, this one lesson has been disregarded.

What duty can be more responsible, what vocation more holy, than that of training the young in habits of industry, truthfulness, economy, and sobriety; of giving to them that knowledge and skill without which their lives would become a burden to themselves and to society? Yet, while the merchant seeks to exercise the greatest caution in selecting the persons to whom he intrusts his merchandise, and yields respect to him who faithfully performs his commercial engagements; he makes but scant inquiry as to the character or qualifications of the mind-builder upon whose skill, judgment, and trustworthiness the future of his children will greatly depend.

The position assigned by our social rules to the teacher accords, not with the nobility of his functions, but with the insufficient appreciation entertained of them by the people, and is accompanied by a corresponding inadequate remuneration. And what is the result? Except a few single-hearted, noble men and women, by whom the profession of the teacher is illustrated and adorned; except a few self-sacrificing heroes and heroines whose love of children and of mankind reconciles them to an humble lot and ill-requited labors, the class of school-teachers throughout the whole civilized world barely reaches the level of that mediocrity which in all other callings suffices to obtain not merely a comfortable maintenance in the present, but a provision against sickness and for old age.

What aspiring father, what Cornelia among mothers, select for their children the profession of a teacher as a field in which the talents and just ambition of such children may find scope? Nor can we hope for any improvement until a juster appreciation of the nobility of the teacher’s vocation, and a more generous remuneration of his labors shall generally prevail.

It is to the desire to aid somewhat in bringing about a juster appreciation in the minds alike of teachers and of people of the utility and nobleness of the teacher’s labors and vocation that these pages owe their origin.

When we consider the nature of the Being over whose future the teacher is to exercise so great an influence, whose mind he is to store with knowledge, and whom he is to train in the practice of such conduct as shall lead to his happiness and well-being, we are lost in amazement at the extent of the knowledge and perfection of the moral attributes which should have been acquired by the teacher. It is his duty to make his pupils acquainted with that nature of which they form a part, by which they are surrounded, and which is “rubbing against them at every step in life.” But he can not teach that of which he himself is ignorant. Every science then may in turn become necessary or desirable to be employed as an instructive agent, every art may be made accessory to illustrate some item of knowledge or to elucidate some moral teaching.

Man is his subject, and with the nature of that subject and of his surroundings he must be acquainted, that the object to be attained and the means for its attainment may be known to him.

What is man? What are his powers, what is his destiny, and for what purpose and for what object was he created? Let us enter the laboratory of the chemist and commence our labors. Let us take down the crucible and begin the analysis, and endeavor to solve this important problem. In studying the great Cosmos we perceive each being seeking its happiness according to the instincts implanted in him by the Creator, and only in man we see his happiness made dependent on the extent to which he contributes to the happiness of others. What, so far as we can see, would this earth be without any inhabitants? What great purpose in the economy of nature could it serve? A palace without a king, a house without an occupant, a lonely and tenantless world, while we now see it framed in all its beauty for the enjoyment of happiness.

The Being upon whom the art and science of the teacher is to be exercised is one to whom food, clothing, fuel, and shelter are needful; possessed of organs of digestion, whose functions should be made familiar to their possessor; of breathing organs, to whose healthful exercise pure air is essential; a being full of life and animation, locomotive—desirous of moving from place to place; an emotional being, susceptible to emotions of joy and sorrow, love and hate, hope and fear, reverence and contempt, and whose emotions should be so directed that their exercise should be productive of happiness to others. He is also an intellectual being, provided with senses by which to receive impressions and acquire a knowledge of external things; with organs of comparison and of reason, by which to render available for future use the impressions received through the senses in the past. Lastly: he is also a social being, to whom perpetual solitude would be intolerable; sympathizing in the pains and pleasures of others, needing their protection, sympathy and co-operation for his own comfort, and desirous of conferring protection upon and of co-operating with them. But, further, he is a being who desires to be loved and esteemed, and finds the greatest charm of existence in the love and esteem he receives; to be loved and esteemed and cared for, he must love, esteem and care for others, and be generally amiable and useful.

Such is the Being, susceptible of pain and pleasure, of sorrow and joy, whom the mind-builder is to train up so that, as far as possible, the former may be averted and the latter secured.

The teacher, then, must train him in habits of industry and skill, that work may be pleasant and easy to him, and held in honorable esteem; for without work, skillfully performed, neither food, clothing, fuel nor shelter can be obtained in sufficient quantity to avoid poverty and suffering. Knowledge also must be acquired by the laborer, in order that the work which is to be skillfully performed may be performed with that attention to the conditions of mechanical, chemical, electrical, and vital agencies necessary to render labor productive. A knowledge of the conditions of mechanics, of chemistry, of electricity, and of vital phenomena should be imparted by the teacher; and to impart this knowledge, he must first possess it.

How sublime, then, are the qualifications, natural and acquired, which the true teacher should possess! How deep should be our reverence for him who, by his skill and knowledge, is capable, and by his moral qualities willing, to perform duties so onerous and so difficult. What station in life can be regarded as more exalted; whose utility can be compared with that of him who proves himself faithful to the duties he assumes, when he takes upon himself the office of a teacher of youth?

The question which is ever present to the mind of the true teacher is: What can I do to insure the happiness of these beings confided to my charge, whose minds it is given to me to fashion, not according to my will, but according as my skill and judgment shall, more or less, enable me to adapt my teachings to their natures? What shall I seek to engrave upon the clear tablets of their young and tender minds, in order that their future lot may be a joyous one? Let me illustrate (he will say) my profession. I will raise it high as the most honored among men, and for my monument I will say: “Look around; see the good works of those whom I have taught and trained; they are my memorials!”

Such may, such will become the hope and aspiration common to teachers in that good day to come, when their labors shall be honored as they deserve; when parents, in all the different ranks into which society falls, shall vie with each other in the respect and honor tendered to the teacher, whose true place in society is at least not beneath that of the Judge.

The teachers to be developed by such a state of society will, as their first step, seek to obtain a clear and comprehensive view of the work they propose to accomplish, and will then seek to adopt the most judicious means to reach the end proposed. They will adapt their methods of teaching to the nature of the object to be taught and to the order in which the faculties of the human mind naturally unfold themselves, for true education is the natural unfolding of the intellectual germ. In order to obtain the knowledge necessary of the object to be taught, the true teacher turns to nature as his guide, for the voice of nature is the voice of God, and in reading her statutes we read that grand volume in which He has left an impress of Himself. The science of nature is nothing more than the ability to read and interpret correctly the lessons taught. There was a period when mankind knew very little of the planet upon which they lived and moved and had their being; there was a time when they knew almost nothing; and there will come a time when they will know almost every thing that can be known by finite man. The earth is our mother, and nature is our teacher, and if we listen to her voice, she will lead us higher and higher until we will stand the master and the king in the glorified temple of wisdom. To reach results so grand and a position so exalted, our natures must unfold in exact harmony with all the laws and forces which surround and control us from the time our existence commences until its close.

From the period of conception until birth the child draws to itself all the essential elements required for the organization of a human being; the capabilities and powers of the parent are taxed and called upon to contribute their material to enable nature to reproduce itself.

The child is born, and then, in a higher and more enlarged and more independent state of existence, commences drawing to itself the materials and substances necessary for its growth and unfolding. It draws in its mother’s milk, it draws in the air, and it builds up in itself the unseen forces of life. Nature, true to her mission, goes on unfolding the child, and teaches it daily and hourly the lessons best adapted to its condition. In a few days after it is born, its powers of observation begin to show signs of life and action, and it can distinguish light from darkness; in a few weeks its mother and nurse are known—in a few months quickened intelligence displays itself in all its actions; in about twelve months it has learned the most difficult art of balancing itself so as to walk, and also to speak a few words; at from two to two and a half years of age, only thirty months from birth, it has learned a language which it speaks, and has become familiar with a vast number of things surrounding it. From a state of entire ignorance it has in thirty months learned what would fill volumes. Horses, cows, pigs, dogs, toys, whips, birds, people, trees, houses, fruit, food, clothes, music, sounds, parents, friends, and a thousand other things are all familiar to it. Without professional teachers, almost without effort, all this valuable and indispensable knowledge has been acquired, through the unconscious adoption on the part of the mother of the true system of education—e duco—I lead forth, and hence nurse, cherish, build up, develop.

The child feels or reaches out, like the tendril, to the material world, seeking to make itself acquainted with that world; even the young infant soon begins to observe closely, soon knows its mother from all other persons, clings to her, loves her above all; soon it recognizes light from darkness, sweet from bitter; soon, when it sees a dog it will recognize it and jump with delight almost out of its mother’s arms; it will show an eager delight to watch the motions of the horse, and imitates the sounds employed by adults when driving. He spreads forth the tentacles of his feeble mind for knowledge, and his mind “grows by what it feeds upon,” and it is for those intrusted with the infant’s training to respond intelligently to the child’s desire, to place within its reach the mental food adapted to its digestion, to nourish and develop it so that its mental hunger shall be at once gratified and excited anew.

It is here, and to this end, that the able teacher steps in, to perfect the development of the future man and woman. He educates, by assisting the natural unfolding of the intellectual germ, he places within reach of the child-mind the food needed to its growth, and the child-mind reaches out its tentacles and absorbs the nourishment offered to it. Thus the mind grows from within outward, and the teacher aids its development, as the careful husbandman by tilling and enriching the soil according to the nature of the plant he cultivates, produces a healthy and fruitful plant.

The true teacher does not seek to teach by simply putting books into the child’s hand, and bidding it to learn; he addresses himself to those faculties and powers of the child’s mind, which bring it in relation with the world in which it lives. Sight, hearing, touch, smell, taste, and thence observation, judgment, perception, reason, memory, hope, imagination, and the love of the beautiful are appealed to, developed and strengthened by natural exercise, even as the organs and limbs of the body are developed and strengthened by gymnastic and other appropriate exercises.

Education, mental and physical, is but the Absorption of surrounding elements into the mind and body—an arrangement an assimilation of materials so as to incorporate them into the being to whose nourishment they are applied, just as the tree or plant assimilates to its growth and subsistence the materials which it draws from the air and the soil.

It is thus apparent that a great change in the system and principles now adopted in teaching is required, and if we change the principles we must, of course, change the instruments. These are now adapted to the method of teaching from without inward. If we are to invert the system, and teach from within outward, then must our means and appliances be adapted to this change. The task, the forcing process, the stuffing and cramming must all give way to the natural mental growth, fostered, cherished, unfolded by culture, in accord with nature and with law. The inquiry then arises: What are to be the new means and appliances for mental culture? We have but to turn again to Nature as our teacher and our guide; her instincts are unerring. The seed germinates and pushes forth its root from within outward. The expansion or growth takes place by means of the elements which it attracts to itself, when these are placed within its reach, and towards which it stretches forth its organs. These elements it assimilates into and makes a part of itself. This process of Nature, so familiar to most of us, serves to illustrate exactly what should take place in intellectual growth. The mind hungers and feels out for and is impelled by a natural internal impulse to gather to itself the elements of knowledge; the wise teacher steps forward and becomes to the germinating intellect what the sun and dew and rain are to the plant. The mind must be fed in conformity with its longings, its wants, its desires. “Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness.” The teacher develops this hunger and thirst by stimulating inquiry, and by presenting to the mind the use and beauty of knowledge; and when the mind gives signs that its hunger is temporarily appeased, that time is now required for mental digestion and assimilation, the wise teacher rests, and would no more attempt to stuff and cram the mind than the wise mother would seek to force food into her child’s stomach.

Intellectual growth of some kind, not less than bodily growth, whether good or evil, is constantly taking place. It should be the teacher’s care to render that growth a healthy one, calculated to insure the happiness of the subject, and, in securing his own happiness, to contribute to the happiness of others.

The body being visible to the physical eye, its growth is also visible, and we do not think of feeling impatient at the long months and years required for it to attain its full proportions; nor do we seek by any forcing process to produce a man at 10 instead of at 20 or 30 years of age.

Were the mind and its growth also visible to the eye, we would be equally careful in our treatment of it. Man’s first impulse in an uncivilized state has generally been a resort to force for the accomplishment of his objects; and as he took his first step forward the habits of his barbaric life remained with him. Hence, the first steps in teaching were by force—the lash, the rod, the school penal code; but even as when hungry, wholesome and well-dressed food rejoices us, so will the mind gladly accept the mental food carefully prepared for it by the true teacher.We live in a world adapted by its Creator to our happiness and highest well-being. It is not only possible, but easy, to win from Nature all that is necessary or desirable, for our sustenance and comfort. It is the true teacher’s duty to fit the child thus to win its happiness; and such a teacher has ever present to his mind the question: How am I to perform this duty? What sort of teaching and training am I to give to the subjects of my care? Let us endeavor to find some direction to guide us to Nature’s answer to this question.