Now that man’s work was a failure, and the saddest kind of a failure, for he did not realize that he had failed until years afterward.  He failed, not because he lacked ambition and enthusiasm; he had a large measure of both these indispensable qualities.  He failed, not because he lacked education and a certain measure of what the world calls culture; from the standpoint of education, he was better qualified than most teachers in schools of that type.  He failed, not because he lacked social spirit and the ability to cooeperate with the church and the home; he mingled with the other members of the community, lived their life and thought their thoughts and enjoyed their social diversions.  The community liked him and respected him.  His pupils liked him and respected him; and yet what he fears most of all to-day is that he may come suddenly face to face with one of those pupils and be forced to listen to a first-hand account of his sins of omission.

This man failed simply because he did not do what the elementary teacher must do if he is to be efficient as an elementary teacher.  He did not train his pupils in the habits that are essential to one who is to live the social life.  He gave them a miscellaneous lot of interesting information which held their attention while it lasted, but which was never mastered in any real sense of the term, and which could have but the most superficial influence upon their future conduct.  But, worst of all, he permitted bad and inadequate habits to be developed at the most critical and plastic period of life.  His pupils had followed the lines of least effort, just as he had followed the lines of least effort.  The result was a well-established prejudice against everything that was not superficially attractive and intrinsically interesting.

Now this man’s teaching fell short simply because he did not know what results he ought to obtain.  He had been given a message to deliver, but he did not know to whom he should deliver it.  Consequently he brought the answer, not from Garcia, but from a host of other personages with whom he was better acquainted, whose language he could speak and understand, and from whom he was certain of a warm welcome.  In other words, having no definite results for which he would be held responsible, he did the kind of teaching that he liked to do.  That might, under certain conditions, have been the best kind of teaching for his pupils.  But these conditions did not happen to operate at that time.  The answer that he brought did not happen to be the answer that was needed.  That it pleased his employers does not in the least mitigate the failure.  That a teacher pleases the community in which he works is not always evidence of his success.  It is dangerous to make a statement like this, for some are sure to jump to the opposite conclusion and assume that one who is unpopular in the community is the most successful.  Needless to say, the reasoning is fallacious.  The matter of popularity is a secondary criterion, not a primary criterion of the efficiency of teaching.  One may be successful and popular or successful and unpopular; unsuccessful and popular or unsuccessful and unpopular.  The question of popularity is beside the question of efficiency, although it may enter into specific cases as a factor.