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!