[265.] The teacher must cultivate the art of narration; his accounts must resemble those of a traveller. But the narrative should conflict with the determination of the relative position of places (by grouping them about one principal place, and in the case of more than one by the use of triangles) as little as, in teaching history, the story of events should conflict with the scheme of chronology. The two go together. The narrative is to present a clear picture, and to this end requires the support of a few fixed points in space. On the other hand, these points should not remain isolated; they are to be connected by the lines of the picture.
[266.] It is not a matter of indifference how many unfamiliar names are mentioned in one minute or hour. Nor is it immaterial whether they are uttered before or after perception of the picture which the map presents. The first requisite is that every map placed before the pupils be conceived of as a country; three, at most four, names of rivers, and the names of a few mountains are sufficient; completeness is out of place here. The few names given provide ample opportunity for fixing the position of notable points, both with reference to one another and to the boundary lines of the country.
Due prominence having been given to these geographical features, they should then be connected, say with the aid of a blackboard, on which they are roughly sketched one by one, and properly joined together afterward. In the case of the sources and outlets of rivers, this may be done by a line to indicate the course. If now the pupils have made good previous use of their eyes, especially if they have noticed the fall of brooks and rivers, and have observed the slope of the ground in a particular region,—if they have not, the deficiency must be made good first of all,—it will not be too early to pass on to a general description of the appearance which the country under consideration would present to a traveller. And now the time has come for a somewhat fuller mention of the names of rivers and mountains, but these names must at once be gone over several times by the pupils. Doing so will reveal whether the list of new names has been made too long; it is often largely due to carelessness in this respect, if the study of geography proves barren or onerous. Next in order follow detailed descriptions of particular wonders of nature, where there are such. Attention is then given to some of the principal cities, mention being made of the number of inhabitants. Here the determination of relative location comes in again, and for this the self-activity of the pupils is indispensable. Finally, human industry and art, so far as they relate to the products of the country, together with the little of political organization that pupils can grasp. The names of the provinces should ordinarily be omitted from the first course.
This section is suggestive of the old geography of the last half century,—location, names, maps, the barren details of the science. Geography is something richer than all this. The old geography was political in the foregoing sense. The first break was in making it physiographical, the last in making it social. Names as such are nothing, and physical facts little more, but both become of value as soon as they are brought into relation to man,—his life, his work, his recreation. Geography is not essentially the location of places, nor is it physiography, but it is a study of the essential facts concerning the surface of the earth as they are related to man himself; it is, in short, human in the fullest sense. It gives a concrete explanation of civilization; it explains the production, the exchange, and, to some extent, the consumption of goods. It contrasts countries, not so much by square miles, as by the number of miles of railroads they possess. (The most momentous fact of modern civilization is the railroad. Twelve billions of dollars are invested in it in the United States alone. In view of these facts, what shall be said of those recent geographies that keep the children poring over primitive maps for years—maps without a suggestion of a railroad in them? This is an illustration of how prone education is to lag behind the progress of society.)
[267.] The reviews, which should be frequent, must steadily work toward a growing firmness of association between names and places. Each name is to be referred to the place it designates; hence the sequence of names must often be reversed, and the map looked over in all directions and from all points of view. How far to go is determined in accordance with individual capacity. From some, only what is absolutely essential can be demanded; from others, much more, in order that they may exert themselves properly.
[268.] In the midst of other studies on which greater stress is laid, geography is as a rule slighted by pupils and sometimes even by teachers. This attitude merits severe criticism. Instruction in geography may be reduced to a minimum, the first course even requires this, but it should not be disparaged. With many pupils, geography is the first study which gives them the consciousness that they can learn as they are expected to learn. With all pupils, geography must connect the remaining studies and must keep them connected. Without it everything remains unstable. Historical events lack places and distances; products of nature are without the regions where they are found; popular astronomy, which is called upon so often to prevent and dispel erroneous notions, is deprived of its very basis, and the geometrical imagination of one of its most important incentives. If the facts of knowledge are allowed to fall asunder in this way, instruction endangers the whole of education.
[ CHAPTER V
The Mother-tongue]
[269.] There would be less controversy about language teaching if existing differences in conditions were given proper attention.
The most general distinction to make is that between understanding and speaking. The distance between the two is a given factor at the time when regular instruction begins. It is very great in some cases, and, again, slight in others, according to individual aptitude and early surroundings.