CHAPTER XIII.
Rome was not built in a day nor is a character formed in one round of the sun. A man never reaches a great height at a single stride, and many times he slips and falls back, even after he has been climbing a great while. This is a thing that is common to the race.
"Dodd" Weaver possessed this trait. I say that he did, and shall proceed to prove it, in two ways, which I plainly state for the benefit of the two classes of people who can only see the same set of facts from opposite points of vision.
For the practical people, those who believe only what they see,—the unimaginative and severely scientific, if you will,—I present in proof of the proposition stated above, the record of the boy's life up to this point—the bare facts that have transpired. For those who bow down at the shrine of pure logic, who accept no conclusion but such as has been hoisted into place by a lever of syllogism, with a major premise for a fulcrum, and a minor premise on the long end of the bar,—for these, I submit the familiar form:
A—All men slip and fall back into old ways, more or less (chiefly more), when striving to change a course of life that has become fixed by habit.
B—"Dodd" Weaver (Socrates) was a man (or near enough so to come within the range of the first term above).
C—Therefore; "Dodd" Weaver (Soc.) slipped and fell back into old ways, more or less (chiefly more), when striving to change a course of life that had become fixed by habit. The form will bear study.
I am glad to record just here, too, though it may be counted a digression, that for once the facts in the case and the logical conclusion reached concerning the same tally exactly. What a blessed thing it would have been for the martyrs, all through the ages, if there had always been such happy coincidence between logical sequence and actual facts! But what were the world without martyrs?
I have heard it said that pure logic has a mission to perform in this world. The record of its doings so far shows that, chiefly, it has been engaged in reaching conclusions that did not tally with actualities, and in leading its devotees to persecute those who accepted facts rather than its ultimatum. It is this that has fostered more persecution in the past than all other forms of bigotry combined. Even religion herself has often fallen a prey to this false god, and the most relentless of religious wars have been waged with a logical difference as a basis.
Nevertheless, pure logic has its use. I have used it to prove that "Dodd" Weaver did not spring from groveling to grace without some set-backs, I have done obeisance to logic. I can now move on peaceably, I trust.
Mr. Bright made a point with "Dodd" by his quick discovery of the boy's genius with the chalk. In a few days he scored another, when he found how well he could read. Indeed, it was here the teacher and pupil first felt their souls flow together freely, for an instant.
It was the old "Sam Weller's Valentine" selection that the class was laboring with. The boys and girls tugged at the dialogue, but in the main got little from it.
It came "Dodd's" turn to read. He had taken in the whole scene and was full of the spirit of the piece. His place of beginning was at the words with which "Sam" begins his letter, and, commencing there, he read, assuming a high-pitched voice:
"Lovely creeter!"
The school broke out into a laugh, as did also Mr. Bright. "Dodd" raised his eyes for an instant to catch the cause of their mirth, only to meet the approving smile of the teacher, and the slightest nod of admiration from him. He flushed with a glow of wholesome pride, and the next instant shouted, in the deep, husky guttural of "Old Tony":
"Stop! A glass o' the inwariable, my dear!" and so he continued with the dialogue.
It was a revelation to the school, this reading of "Dodd's." After the first floating breath of laughter had passed over the room, every pupil was full of attention, and was listening to the reading of this proverbially bad boy.
"Dodd" read to the end of the letter and then sat down.
Mr. Bright said, "Very well!" and marked him 9 1/2! The two walked home to dinner together, at noon!
For many weeks after this "Dodd" continued as he had begun, and grew in favor with the pupils in general and with Mr. Bright in particular. He came regularly to school, studied fairly, and advanced quite rapidly in his work. This was very satisfactory to his parents, who saw their son, whom they had mourned as worse than dead, once more "clothed and in his right mind." The Elder was happy and felt that at last the personal influence of one good man had done for "Dodd" what a half dozen revival conversions had failed to do for him. Perhaps he did not say it just that way, even to himself; but we often hear voices within us saying things that we dare not say ourselves, even to ourselves. It was a voice within that said this to the parson. I merely record the fact without further comment. Why should anyone comment on such a fact?
But there came a day—there are always days a-coming. There came, too, a deed, and there are always deeds a-coming. It was in this wise.
School had just begun, after dinner, when suddenly "Dodd" Weaver arose to leave the room. There was nothing remarkable in this, for it was not unlawful for pupils to leave Mr. Bright's room without special permission. They were permitted to come and go at pleasure, subject, always, to the direction of the teacher in each or every case.
Mr. Bright did not notice the young man till he had nearly reached the door; then, suddenly, it occurred to him that there was no good reason for his going out.
"Why are you leaving the room, 'Dodd'?" he inquired, a trifle abruptly.
"To get a drink of water," returned the boy.
"You need not go," remarked Mr. Bright. "A young man of your years should attend to that at the proper time. You may take your seat!"
It was a little thing, but it was so sudden that it "riled" "Dodd" to the very depths. Quick as a flash he returned:
"I'll go out whenever I —— please for all of you, you —— —— —— ——," and here followed a string of blasphemous words which good taste says I must not write, though the truth is, "Dodd" said them, very loudly, before a whole school full of young ladies and gentlemen, who had to hear them. But then, good taste has some rights which I am bound to respect, and I put dashes where "Dodd" put most shameful oaths.
If a thunderbolt had fallen into that still school-room it would not have produced greater consternation among the pupils than did these words of "Dodd's." He turned pale with anger, and glared at Mr. Bright, as he, "Dodd," stood with his hand on the doorknob.
"All right;" returned Mr. Bright, "do just as the 'Other-Fellow' says about it," and he turned to his class again.
"Dodd" stood with his hand on the doorknob for a full minute, then turned, and slowly walking to his seat, sat down! But Mr. Bright did not even look that way.
And this was all there ever was of this episode. Mr. Bright never once mentioned the occurrence to "Dodd" afterwards. He did not even reprimand him before the school nor did he speak to any pupil of what had happened. He had won, and yet the odds were so nearly against him that be felt it best to be silent. This might not have been your way, beloved, but it was Mr. Bright's way, and he was able to manage it.
Some months thereafter, he had occasion one day to reprove a rough pupil for profanity on the play-ground, and the pupil came back at him with: "You'd better talk to 'Dodd' Weaver about swearing if you are so anxious about it. He cursed you to your face and you didn't say a word." But Mr. Bright only replied: "That is my affair, but you must not swear on the play-ground. Do you understand?"
The young man concluded that he understood, and said so.
And that is how this teacher was perhaps logically inconsistent, but nevertheless just, and able to take care of his school according to the individual needs of his pupils. Happy is that teacher who can do so much!
But the machine cannot do so much, nor can the men who run the machine. The machine is logically correct and consistent, according to the laws of the Medes and Persians. It "treats all pupils alike." Allah be praised! Yet a single man like Mr. Bright is worth whole battalions of machines. Thank God!
I must take space, just here, too, to explain a phrase quoted by Mr.
Bright, just above, namely, the "Other-Fellow."
The quotation marks are there in deference to Dr. Holmes, who is responsible for the idea that Mr. Bright had made familiar in his school. That idea was as follows, when elaborated by this teacher, and was presented to his pupils on a Monday morning, a few weeks after "Dodd" had entered school. I give this as Mr. Bright paraphrased it, rather than in the words of the "Old Master" in the "Poet at the Breakfast Table," where he first came across it.
"Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes says," Mr. Bright remarked to the school, "that in every one of us there are two persons. First, there is yourself, and then there is the Other-Fellow! Now one of these is all the time doing things, and the other sits inside and tells what he thinks about the performance. Thus, I do so-and-so, act so-and-so, seem to the world so-and-so; but the Other-Fellow sits in judgment on me all the time.
"I may tell a lie, and do it so cleverly that the people may think I have done or said a great and good thing; and they may shout my praises, far and wide. But the Other-Fellow sits inside, and says, 'You lie! you lie! you're a sneak, and you know it!' I tell him to shut up, to hear what the people say about me; but he only continues to repeat, over and over again, 'You lie! you lie! you're a sneak, and you know it!'
"Or, again, I may do a really noble deed, but perhaps be misunderstood by the public, who may persecute me and say all manner of evil against me, falsely; but the Other-Fellow will sit inside, and say, 'Never mind, old boy! It's all right! stand by!'
"And I would rather hear," he used to add, "the 'well done' of the 'Other-Fellow' than the shouts of praise of the whole world; while I would a thousand times rather that the people should shout and hiss themselves hoarse with rage and envy, than that the 'Other-Fellow' should sit inside and say, 'You lie! you lie! you're a sneak, and you know it!'"
This was what Mr. Bright said to his pupils on a Monday morning, and it made a wonderful impression upon them. The same thought always will make an impression upon people if only it can be got to them.
After this, he let the "Other-Fellow" manage his school. You can see how effective it was, my dear, by observing what it did for "Dodd," as I have just related. It was even more powerful, if possible, with the other pupils.
I commend this "Other-Fellow" to your notice, ladies and gentlemen, and especially to yours, beloved, who are teachers of young men and women. You can't use him to so good an advantage among the younger pupils, but if you can once get him to take control of your larger boys and girls, you have put them into most excellent hands.
For, see; he will ply the lash when it is deserved, and lay on heavily where you would hardly dare to lift a finger. Does Mary whisper too much? Quietly ask her to settle the score with the "Other-Fellow." Is John doing something that he should not do? Hand him over to the same authority. And if you can do this, and can succeed in making this personage the Absolute Monarch of your school, whose assistant you are, then be happy, and teach school just as long as you can afford to. You are a god-send to any company of young people among whom your lot is cast.
But if you are a stranger to the "Other-Fellow" yourself, don't try to introduce him to any one else. It is not well for strangers to attempt familiarities, yet I have known such attempts, even in the school room, and by those high in authority, even among the machines.
But Mr. Bright had succeeded in putting this personage into his school as head master, and he had wrought wonders, even in so hard a case as that of "Dodd" Weaver. His presence in any school will always work as it did in this case. It takes a man or a woman of character to use this power, though!