It is possible for a pupil to study geography diligently every day
and forget apparently nearly everything he learns. Both geography and
history are studies which may be pursued in such a way that nearly all
that is acquired in any given month is lost in the next month. Those
who are inclined to doubt this have but to test a class where the text
has been the subject of acquisition. Test them on what they learned
a month previously and even those inclined to believe this statement
will be astonished that so little is retained of what once seemed to be
known so well.
Mr. A sweeps his barn with the doors open and the wind blowing against
his work. He works with much energy and some apparent efficiency; but
the wind brings back the chaff to such an extent that there is never
much clear space on his floor. Mr. B takes advantage of the direction
of the wind, and every stroke counts for success and is more than
doubled in effect by the help of the wind. The chaff flies before him
and his floor is clear in a short time.
I have seen a steamer in waters opening upon the Bay of Fundy pouring
out black smoke, beating the water into foam, and apparently making
great progress. But observation of the distant shore proved that she
was actually standing still. The adverse tide was such that she could
not contend with it successfully. So she dropped her anchor and saved
coal and the wear of machinery. Two hours later she swung with her
cable, the anchor was hoisted, and she moved rapidly in the desired
direction without the aid of a pound of steam. In Passamaquoddy bay are
so many islands and channels and such a great fluctuation of tide that
the waters are racing in various directions at all times. Fishermen
study their courses and never tack against the tide. Those who go out
every day do not leave home at the same hour Tuesday as on Monday,
but just fifty minutes later. They do not go and return over the same
courses, for many times the strongest flow of tide does not run where
there was the swiftest ebb. With them the proverb, "The longest way
round is the shortest way home," is often true, and I have heard them
quote those words frequently.
In psychology there are both a wind and a tide. The wind is what the
pupil thinks of the subject--as to its usefulness in his future life.
The tide is his natural interest in the thing for its own sake.
Wind and tide are sometimes both against us, and it is a poor skipper
who lacks the sense to tie up for a short time or take another course
when he finds both set against him.
But there are teachers who battle fiercely against the desires and
interests of their pupils, bound to compel them to learn, making
a tremendous fuss, filling families with tears and tremblings,
threatenings, scoldings, and reviewings--all with no permanent results
of value.
There is a natural interest in children for birds. It is so strong and
absorbing that it amounts to a psychological tide. The things of the
bird-world act upon the child-mind rather instinctively than mentally.
The whole child is active and alert when the subject is such that it
fully interests him. A little effective teaching just at that time
is worth more than hours of perfunctory drudgery over a similar task
presented in the wrong way.
There are birds wherever man lives. They differ in color, form, and
habit according to environment. The pupil who seems to be interested
least in the ordinary things of the text book in geography is the very
one, as a rule, to be caught with the birds and animals of the various
parts of the earth. The pupil who will not retain information about
the products of a country may be induced to consider intelligently
something about the fauna of that country and pass readily to an
interested study of the flora, and from what grows there to what is
shipped from that place.