The Philosophy of Teaching / The Teacher, The Pupil, The School

by Nathaniel Sands

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.