I am now thoroughly persuaded that Mr. Lucas gave expression to a great principle of pedagogy in what he said about hypocrisy, and I shall try to be diligent in applying it.  If I can get my boys to assume an arithmetical attitude, they may come to have an arithmetical feeling, and that would give me great joy.  I don’t care to have them express their honest feelings either about me or the work, but would rather have them look polite and interested, even if it is hypocrisy.  I’d like to have all my boys and girls act as if they consider me absolutely fair, just, and upright, as well as the most kind, courteous, generous, scholarly, skillful, and complaisant schoolmaster that ever lived, no matter what they really think.

CHAPTER XX

BEHAVIOR

If I only knew how to teach English, I’d have far more confidence in my schoolmastering.  But I don’t seem to get on.  The system breaks down too often to suit me.  Just when I think I have some lad inoculated with elegant English through the process of reading from some classic, he says, “might of came,” and I become obfuscated again.  I have a book here in which I read that it is the business of the teacher so to organize the activities of the school that they will function in behavior.  Well, my boys’ behavior in the use of English indicates that I haven’t organized the activities of my English class very effectively.  I seem to be more of a success in a cherry-orchard than in an English class.  My cherries are large and round, a joy to the eye and delightful to the taste.  The fruit expert tells me they are perfect, and so I feel that I organized the activities in that orchard efficiently.  In fact, the behavior of my cherry-trees is most gratifying.  But when I hear my pupils talk or read their essays, and find a deal of imperfect fruit in the way of solecisms and misspelled words, I feel inclined to discredit my skill in organizing the activities in this human orchard.

I think my trouble is (and it is trouble), that I proceed upon the agreeable assumption that my pupils can “catch” English as they do the measles if only they are exposed to it.  So I expose them to the objective complement and the compellative, and then stand aghast at their behavior when they make all the mistakes that can possibly be made in using a given number of words.  I have occasion to wonder whether I juggle these big words merely because I happen to see them in a book, or whether I am trying to be impressive.  I recall how often I have felt a thrill of pride as I have ladled out deliberative subjunctives, ethical datives, and hysteron proteron to my (supposedly) admiring Latin pupils.  If I were a soldier I should want to wear one of those enormous three-story military hats to render me tall and impressive.  I have no desire to see a drum-major minus his plumage.  The disillusionment would probably be depressing.  Liking to wear my shako, I must continue to talk of objective complements instead of using simple English.