What Came Afterwards CHAPTER 9.

In a few weeks, Mr. Ewbank was so far recovered, that he was in condition to take almost any light employment. Through the influence of Doctor Hofland, three or four students in Greek and Latin were obtained. So favorably were these impressed by their new teacher, and so warmly did they report at home and elsewhere, in regard to him, that others were led to join the class, which was preparatory to a college course, and made up of the sons of rich men, who could afford to pay liberally.

Having recommended Mr. Ewbank to some of his friends in the beginning, Doctor Hofland felt a certain degree of responsibility, which caused him to drop in, now and then, upon the teacher, in order to see how he conducted himself among his scholars. With each visit he became more and more impressed with his superiority as a man. There was nothing small or weak about him; nothing of that petty assumption which we see in the mere educator. Yet, he was wholly in earnest with his pupils, giving himself to them in such wise and sympathetic communications, that they were held by the very pleasures which attended reception.

"You do not seem to have any dull boys here," said the Doctor, one day, after listening to some brief exercises.

"They are not all bright, as that word is commonly understood," answered Mr. Ewbank. "Among a dozen lads, such as you see now before you, will always be found the usual differences. Some are quick of apprehension, responding, like polished surfaces, to the first glances of light; while others must dwell for a portion of time in the sunbeams, until their warmth is felt, and then there is motion within. It is the teacher's business to distinguish between these two classes, and to develop each according to its mental peculiarity. Often it will be found, that, as to intellectual power, the latter is superior to the former. The machinery is on a grander scale, and takes more heat to set it going."

"It requires faith and patience to deal with them aright," said the Doctor. "And how few of us possess these essential qualities! Everything is so plain to the teacher, that he looks for flashing responses, when his pupils are before him. If any hesitate, or falter, or stand silent — he is too often annoyed, impatient, or angry — thus closing their minds. And so, instead of helping, he hinders them. But you have learned the better way, Mr. Ewbank; happy are the dull boys who come under your rule."

"I see the better way," was returned, "and am trying to walk in it; but I fail, in some things, continually."

"As we all fail. Imperfection is stamped on human things. But, always, right effort in any direction gives right results. These may be very small, but the smallest gain is something."

"True, Doctor; and in that I have a never-dying incentive. If I make a single step in the right direction, I am just so much nearer the result. A step today, a step tomorrow, wearily though each may be taken — advance me towards the goal. And if I so press onward, in each day as it is given — shall I not look back, after many days, and see the winding path of an accomplished journey stretching afar off in the fading distance? In my experience, Doctor, the gain of each day, in any given direction, is small. We must work and wait. We must advance one single step at a time, and take hope from even the smallest signs of progress."

"So you deal with your pupils, as well as with yourself?"

"So I try to deal with them, Doctor."

"Have you trouble with any? There are the indifferent, as well as the dull. A dozen boys in school, represent almost as many dispositions."

"I first gain my pupil's respect and good will."

"How? That is a secret hidden from the many."

"There is no rule applicable to all cases, unless it is this — kindness of feeling towards the lad, and a sincere desire to do him good. Feeling is magnetic, and communicates itself by laws peculiarly its own. If there is genuine good will in your heart for any with whom you are in contact — it will be known without the intervention of language. First, I try to feel right towards my pupil — to forget all about myself, and think how I can best serve him. In regard to education, I have views not held in common by all teachers; or, if held, not acted upon, except in rare instances. My effort is, not to move the machinery of a pupil's mind by outside pressure — but to set it going by virtue of a force generated within, and to direct my effort chiefly to the work of feeding that force. To this end, I do not make the memory a storehouse, cumbered with an excess of material; but give chiefly such things as are needed for present use, knowing, that in such use, comes appropriation and incorporation into the mental substance.

Plants grow from within — animal bodies grow from within — each by a law of life that takes and assimilates nutrition, particle by particle. By the same law, mind grows. Its foodis knowledge. But knowledge, when presented, is crude. The mind's digestive organs must pass it through processes exactly corresponding to those which take place in the animal economy, before its nutrition is found and taken into the soul's substance. I cannot digest for my pupil. The mere transference of things from my memory to his, cannot give himintelligence. He must be led to think for himself — to take the food I give and pass it through all the digestive processes for himself. Then he has healthy life — then he grows. But, to weigh down his memory with a great burden of things not comprehended, is to impede growth, and make all education's processes laborious, distasteful and imperfect.

Holding, as I do, to a perfect correspondence between the mind and the body, as to functions and laws of life, I take it for granted — science and knowledge being the mind's food — that, if this food is given in right proportions and of right quality to children, they will receive it with eagerness and delight; hunger and thirst always following digestion and assimilation, and calling for new supplies of food. You see how much, regarding education, is involved in all this."

"Your ideas and mine run parallel, at least on this subject," said Doctor Hofland. "It is one on which you seem to have thought deeply."

"Yes."

"But, neither your duties nor mine will permit its further discussion now," and the Doctor made a motion to retire. "We must compare notes, however, at some future time, and when we can get down deeper into the subject. I see that your theory is right; and, I trust, your practice also — though, in my observation, Mr. Ewbank, men of theory almost always fail in application. Why should this be?"

"Because, the thought is usually above the life," answered Mr. Ewbank.

"Give me your meaning in other words," said the Doctor.

"Because we can see more than we are willing to do. The mind, as you are aware, is two-fold."

"Yes."

"There is will and understanding."

"Yes."

"Feeling being predicated of the will — and thought of the understanding."

The Doctor assented as to a familiar proposition.

"Thought has power to rise above the actual state, which is governed by what we love. It can go up into clear skies and serene atmospheres, and make to itself a dwelling place, all beautiful and symmetrical. But, it must descend again to its companion, love; and then, it too often happens, that love refuses to abide in the new dwelling which thought has made, and holds her companion down to the old base level. And so, the man, though he sees what is right, does not always do what is best. His theory is true; but, when he comes to the work of application, he fails for lack of that self-compulsion which takes the groveling affections up to the nobler heights which thought has power to gain."

"Judging from what I see," remarked the Doctor, "you are able to go up and dwell in the house you have built. In other words, to make theory and practice one."

Mr. Ewbank's face did not brighten as we see the face brighten, sometimes, under a compliment that gives pleasure. If there was any change, it was towards a graver aspect.

"No man knows better than I do," he replied, "how hard it is to force the lagging spirit into right ways. Success, in any case, is too intimately associated with memories of possible and impending failure, to leave much room for self-congratulation. For all gain of good, I am profoundly thankful; but, the gain is ever so hardly won, that no room is left for pride. With every enemy we conquer — ten new ones come into view, marshaling themselves for battle."

The two men stood silent for some moments, under the pressure of thought.

"Good day," said Doctor Hofland. "We must talk about these things again."

"Good day, sir."

The physician departed on his mission of healing — and the teacher remained with his pupils, strengthened for his work through the Doctor's kind manifestation of an appreciative interest, so rarely met by people of his peculiar mind.

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