The Normal Record. February 1901

              niCO STATE COLLEGE LIBRAE
50908
2
THE NORMAL RECORD.
away with their spirit, is to turn teacher.
Thus a revival of the art of teaching becomes
a logical and natural sequence of a revival of
learning. A notoble instance of this truth is
one of our many heritages from the 19th century. That century found its greatest and
most striking intellectual achievements in
the development and application of science;
it was a century of exacter scientific methods,
of infinitely patient and penetrating research, of the revelation both of a vast field
of scientific knowledge and law, and finally
of the practical control and application of
science in human service. This great wave
of intellectual self-assertion on the part of
mankind has at times lashed the very foundations of all the old-time castles,—theology,
history, art, philosophy, literature. Like
the hot-blooded adolescent, science proposed
to make or break; but while it was strenuously living the years of its own preparatory
discipline and working out its own refinement, it was also leaving very perceptible
marks upon every human institution,—upon
education no less than upon the others. For
in the closing years of the century we find
the scientist also taking up the cry of that
most Christlibe of all teachers, Pestalozzi, a
great part of whose work belonged to the
century's opening years, and repeating "I
will turn Schoolmaster." And the scientist
has turned schoolmaster in the broadest
sense. He is taking his place in all discussions and experiments bearing upon the aims
processes, means and methods of educational
work. The revival of scientific interest and
research of this age is to work out a revival,
not alone of the science, but of the very art
of teaching.
Third and finally, the protest against a
mere mechanics of teaching has been registered in the past, still, is often registered in
the present, by that spirit which looks with
distrust if not absolute skepticism upon the
very idea of a science of education and the
possibility of trained teachers. This skeptical spirit raises the pertinent question:
Is it possible to teach this art, which rests
for its ultimate and genuine success upon
foundations that are at once instinctive and
racial,—such as sympathy; that must be
present more or less abundantly in the individual before he can safely essay the tasks of
education ?    The question points  a  perfectly
legitimate issue.
Now we must mark that a common feeling
with respect to teaching actuates each of
these three impulses,—to imitate the great
intuitive teachers of the race, to become the
apostle of one's own new light, to rely upon
one's individual racial heritage. These three
impulses evince a common sentiment, which
is that teaching is most perfect when it partakes of the nature of the instinctive, of the
inspired,—when it is effected as an art rather
than as a purely mechanical craft. It should
occasionally occur to every Normal School
Faculty to ask: Is this sentiment well founded? Like every sentiment that has not only
persisted but acquired constantly increasing
definiteness of content in the genius of the
race, it is probably very well founded. Let
us inquire as to what these foundations may
be.
First, teaching must in. the ultimate ideal
remain an art because it deals not with the
type as does a purely mechanical craft but
with the individual as such; and because the
development of the race has emphasized
variation among its individuals by placing a
premium upon individuality. Despite all community of powers human beings vary greatly.
Their very institutions are a proof and a
guarantee of the further emphasis of this
fact; witness the modern tendency toward
extreme division of labor, specialization and
expert service, in the industrial and professional world. There is everywhere a premium upon individual resources. Hence education is forced more and more to measure
its success by the extent to which it can
achieve the social fitness of the individual by
utilizing his peculiarly individual traits. In
the end, then, the most successful teacher is
the one who possesses the power of almost
infinitely varied, unforseen reactions; the
possession of this power ranks the teacher
with the artist. Her art finds its call and
its constantly shifting themes in the infinite
variability of childhood.
Second: This power of almost infinitely
varied, unforseen reactions is exercised by
the teacher in her field just as is the same
power by the artist in his field. In the development of the human race, again, emphasis has also been placed upon  the  power  for