and national well-being.  Knowing this, she feels that it is quite worth while for herself and her pupils, both for the present and for the future.  She feels that, if she would know life, she must know mathematics, because it is a part of life; that, if she would teach life to her pupils, she must teach them mathematics as an integral part of life; and that she must teach it in such a way that it will be as much a part of themselves as their bodily organs.  She wants them to know the mathematics as they know that the rain is falling or that the sun is shining, because the rain, the sunshine, and the mathematics are all elements of life.  Her great aim is to have her pupils experience the study just as they experience other phases of life.

=The teacher’s attitude.=—­Such a teacher with such a conception of life and of her work finds teaching school the very reverse of drudgery.  Each day is an exhilarating experience of life.  Her pupils are a part of life to her.  She enjoys life and, hence, enjoys them.  They are her confederates in the fine game of life.  The bigness and exuberance of her abundant life enfolds them all, and from the very atmosphere of her presence they absorb life.  Their studies, under the influence of her magic, are as much a part of life to them as the air they breathe or the food they eat.  No two days are alike in her school, for life to-day is larger than it was yesterday and so presents a new aspect.  Her spirit carries over into their spirits the truths of the books, and these truths thus become inherent.

=College influences.=—­She teaches life, albeit through the medium of subjects and books, because she knows life.  Her college work did not consist in the gathering together of many facts, but in accumulating experiences of life.  Many of these experiences were acquired vicariously, but they were no less real on that account.  Her generous nature was able to withstand the most assiduous efforts of some of her teachers to quench the flames of life that glowed in the pages of books, with the wet blanket of erudition.  She was able to relive the thoughts and feelings of the authors whose books she studied and so make their experiences her own.  She could reconstitute the emotional life of her authors and gain potency through the transfusion of spirit.  Her books were living things, and she gleaned life from their pages.

=Reading and life.=—­She can teach reading because she can read.  Reading to her is an experience in life.  The words on the printed page are not meaningless hieroglyphics.  They are the electric wires which connect the soul of the author with her own, and through which the current is continually passing.  When she reads Dickens, Tiny Tim is never a mere boy with a crutch, but he is Tiny Tim, and, as such, neither men nor angels can supplant him on the printed page.  She knows the touch of him and the voice of him.  She laughs with him; she cries with him; she prays with him; she lives with him.  In her teaching she causes Tiny Tim to stand forth like a cameo to her pupils, with no rival and no peer.  This she can do because he is a part of her life.  She has no occasion either to pose or to rhapsodize.  Sincerity is its own explanation and justification.