Chapter VI: Part I: The Teaching of Nature-Study (1)

WHAT NATURE-STUDY IS

Nature-study is, despite all discussions and perversions, a study of nature; it consists of simple, truthful observations that may, like beads on a string, finally be threaded upon the understanding and thus held together as a logical and harmonious whole. Therefore, the object of the nature-study teacher should be to cultivate in the children powers of accurate observation and to build up within them, understanding.

WHAT NATURE-STUDY SHOULD DO FOR THE CHILD

First, but not most important, nature-study gives the child practical and helpful knowledge. It makes him familiar with nature’s ways and forces, so that he is not so helpless in the presence of natural misfortune and disasters.

Nature-study cultivates the child’s imagination since there are so many wonderful and true stories that he may read with his own eyes, which affect his imagination as much as does fairy lore; at the same time nature-study cultivates in him a perception and a regard for what _is_ true, and the power to express it. All things seem possible in nature; yet this seeming is always guarded by the eager quest of what is true. Perhaps, half the falsehood in the world is due to lack of power to detect the truth and to express it. Nature-study aids both in discernment and expression of things as they are.

Nature-study cultivates in the child a love of the beautiful; it brings to him early a perception of color, form and music. He sees whatever there is in his environment, whether it be the thunder-head piled up in the western sky, or the golden flash of the oriole in the elm; whether it be the purple of the shadows on the snow, or the azure glint on the wing of the little butterfly. Also, what there is of sound, he hears; he reads the music score of the bird orchestra, separating each part and knowing which bird sings it. And the patter of the rain, the gurgle of the brook, the sighing of the wind in the pine, he notes and loves and becomes enriched thereby.

But, more than all, nature-study gives the child a sense of companionship with life out of doors and an abiding love of nature. Let this latter be the teacher’s criterion for judging his or her work. If nature-study as taught does not make the child love nature and the out-of-doors, then it should cease. Let us not inflict permanent injury on the child by turning him away from nature instead of toward it. However, if the love of nature is in the teacher’s heart, there is no danger; such a teacher, no matter by what method, takes the child gently by the hand and walks with him in paths that lead to the seeing and comprehending of what he may find beneath his feet or above his head. And these paths whether they lead among the lowliest plants, or whether to the stars, finally converge and bring the wanderer to that serene peace and hopeful faith that is the sure inheritance of all those who realize fully that they are working units of this wonderful universe.

NATURE-STUDY AS A HELP TO HEALTH

Perhaps the most valuable practical lesson the child gets from nature-study is a personal knowledge that nature’s laws are not to be evaded. Wherever he looks, he discovers that attempts at such evasion result in suffering and death. A knowledge thus naturally attained of the immutability of nature’s “must” and “shall not” is in itself a moral education. That the fool as well as the transgressor fares ill in breaking natural laws, makes for wisdom in morals as well as in hygiene.

Out-of-door life takes the child afield and keeps him in the open air, which not only helps him physically and occupies his mind with sane subjects, but keeps him out of mischief. It is not only during childhood that this is true, for love of nature counts much for sanity in later life. This is an age of nerve tension, and the relaxation which comes from the comforting companionship found in woods and fields is, without doubt, the best remedy for this condition. Too many men who seek the out-of-doors for rest at the present time, can only find it with a gun in hand. To rest and heal their nerves they must go out and try to kill some unfortunate creature,--the old, old story of sacrificial blood. Far better will it be when, through properly training the child, the man shall be enabled to enjoy nature through seeing how creatures live rather than watching them die. It is the sacred privilege of nature-study to do this for future generations and for him thus trained, shall the words of Longfellow’s poem to Agassiz apply:

“_And he wandered away and away, with Nature the dear old nurse,
Who sang to him night and day, the rhymes of the universe.
And when the way seemed long, and his heart began to fail,
She sang a more wonderful song, or told a more wonderful tale._”

WHAT NATURE-STUDY SHOULD DO FOR THE TEACHER

During many years, I have been watching teachers in our public schools in their conscientious and ceaseless work; and so far as I can foretell, the fate that awaits them finally is either nerve exhaustion or nerve atrophy. The teacher must become either a neurasthenic or a “clam.”

I have had conversations with hundreds of teachers in the public schools of New York State concerning the introduction of nature-study into the curriculum, and most of them declared, “Oh, we have not time for it. Every moment is full now!” Their nerves were at such a tension that with one more thing to do they must fall apart. The question in my own mind during these conversations was always, how long can she stand it! I asked some of them “Did you ever try a vigorous walk in the open air in the open country every Saturday or every Sunday of your teaching year?” “Oh no!” they exclaimed in despair of making me understand. “On Sunday we must go to church or see our friends and on Saturday we must do our shopping or our sewing. We must go to the dressmaker’s lest we go unclad, we must mend, and darn stockings; we need Saturday to catch up.”

Yes, catch up with more cares, more worries, more fatigue, but not with more growth, more strength, more vigor and more courage for work. In my belief, there are two and only two occupations for Saturday afternoon or forenoon for a teacher. One is to be out of doors and the other is to lie in bed, and the first is best. Out in this, God’s beautiful world, there is everything waiting to heal lacerated nerves, to strengthen tired muscles, to please and content the soul that is torn to shreds with duty and care. To the teacher who turns to nature’s healing, nature-study in the schoolroom is not a trouble; it is a sweet, fresh breath of air blown across the heat of radiators and the noisome odor of over-crowded small humanity. She, who opens her eyes and her heart nature-ward even once a week, finds nature-study in the schoolroom a delight and an abiding joy. What does such a one find in her schoolroom instead of the terrors of discipline, the eternal watching and eternal nagging to keep the pupils quiet and at work? She finds, first of all, companionship with her children; and second, she finds that without planning or going on a far voyage, she has found health and strength.

WHEN AND WHY THE TEACHER SHOULD SAY “I DO NOT KNOW”

No science professor in any university, if he be a man of high attainment, hesitates to say to his pupils “I do not know,” if they ask for information beyond his knowledge. The greater his scientific reputation and erudition, the more readily, simply and without apology he says this. He, better than others, comprehends how vast is the region that lies beyond man’s present knowledge. It is only the teacher in the elementary schools who has never received enough scientific training to reveal to her how little she does know, who feels that she must appear to know everything or her pupils will lose confidence in her. But how useless is this pretence, in nature-study! The pupils, whose younger eyes are much keener for details than hers, will soon discover her limitations and then their distrust of her will be real.

In nature-study any teacher can with honor say, “I do not know;” for perhaps, the question asked is as yet unanswered by the great scientists. But she should not let her lack of knowledge be a wet blanket thrown over her pupils’ interest. She should say frankly, “I do not know; let us see if we cannot together find out this mysterious thing. Maybe no one knows it as yet, and I wonder if you will discover it before I do.” She thus conveys the right impression, that only a little about the intricate life of plants and animals is yet known; and at the same time she makes her pupils feel the thrill and zest of investigation. Nor will she lose their respect by doing this, if she does it in the right spirit. For three years, I had for comrades in my walks afield, two little children and they kept me busy saying, “I do not know”. But they never lost confidence in me or in my knowledge; they simply gained respect for the vastness of the unknown.

The chief charm of nature-study would be taken away if it did not lead us through the border-land of knowledge into the realm of the undiscovered. Moreover, the teacher, in confessing her ignorance and at the same time her interest in a subject, establishes between herself and her pupils a sense of companionship which relieves the strain of discipline, and gives her a new and intimate relation with her pupils which will surely prove a potent element in her success. The best teacher is always one who is the good comrade of her pupils.

NATURE-STUDY, THE ELIXIR OF YOUTH

The old teacher is too likely to become didactic, dogmatic and “bossy” if she does not constantly strive with herself. Why? She has to be thus five days in the week and, therefore, she is likely to be so seven. She knows arithmetic, grammar and geography to their uttermost and she is never allowed to forget that she knows them, and finally her interests become limited to what she knows.

After all, what is the chief sign of growing old? Is it not the feeling that we know all there is to be known? It is not years which make people old; it is ruts, and a limitation of interests. When we no longer care about anything except our own interests, we are then old, it matters not whether our years be twenty or eighty. It is rejuvenation for the teacher, thus growing old, to stand ignorant as a child in the presence of one of the simplest of nature’s miracles--the formation of a crystal, the evolution of the butterfly from the caterpillar, the exquisite adjustment of the silken lines in the spider’s orb-web. I know how to “make magic” for the teacher who is growing old. Let her go out with her youngest pupil and fall on her knees before the miracle of the blossoming violet and say: “Dear Nature, I know naught of the wondrous life of these, your smallest creatures. Teach me!” and she will suddenly find herself young.

NATURE-STUDY AS A HELP IN SCHOOL DISCIPLINE

Much of the naughtiness in school is a result of the child’s lack of interest in his work, augmented by the physical inaction that results from an attempt to sit quietly. The best teachers try to obviate both of these rather than to punish because of them. Nature-study is an aid in both respects, since it keeps the child interested and also gives him something to do.

In the nearest approach to an ideal school that I have ever seen, for children of second grade, the pupils were allowed, as a reward of merit, to visit the aquaria or the terrarium for periods of five minutes, which time was given to the blissful observation of the fascinating prisoners. The teacher also allowed the reading of stories about the plants and animals under observation to be regarded as a reward of merit. As I entered the schoolroom, there were eight or ten of the children at the windows watching eagerly what was happening to the creatures confined there in the various cages. There was a mud aquarium for the frogs and salamanders, an aquarium for fish, many small aquaria for insects and each had one or two absorbingly interested spectators who were quiet, well behaved and were getting their nature-study lessons in an ideal manner. The teacher told me that the problem of discipline was solved by this method, and that she was rarely obliged to rebuke or punish. In many other schools, watching the living creatures in the aquaria, or terrarium has been used as a reward for other work well done.

THE RELATION OF NATURE-STUDY TO SCIENCE

Nature-study is not elementary science as so taught, because its point of attack is not the same; error in this respect has caused many a teacher to abandon nature-study and many a pupil to hate it. In elementary science the work begins with the simplest animals and plants and progresses logically through to the highest forms; at least this is the method pursued in most universities and schools. The object of the study is to give the pupils an outlook over all the forms of life and their relation one to another. In nature-study the work begins with any plant or creature which chances to interest the pupil. It begins with the robin when it comes back to us in March, promising spring; or it begins with the maple leaf which flutters to the ground in all the beauty of its autumnal tints. A course in biological science leads to the comprehension of all kinds of life upon our globe. Nature-study is for the comprehension of the individual life of the bird, insect or plant that is nearest at hand.

Nature-study is perfectly good science within its limits, but it is not meant to be more profound or comprehensive than the capabilities of the child’s mind. More than all, nature-study is not science belittled as if it were to be looked at through the reversed opera glass in order to bring it down small enough for the child to play with. Nature-study, as far as it goes, is just as large as is science for “grown-ups” and may deal with the same subject matter and should be characterized by the same accuracy. It simply does not go so far.

To illustrate: If we are teaching the science of ornithology, we take first the Archaeopteryx, then the swimming and the scratching birds and finally reach the song birds, studying each as a part of the whole. Nature-study begins with the robin because the child sees it and is interested in it and he notes the things about the habits and appearance of the robin that may be perceived by intimate observation. In fact, he discovers for himself all that the most advanced book of ornithology would give concerning the ordinary habits of this one bird; the next bird studied may be the turkey in the barnyard, or the duck on the pond, or the screech-owl in the spruces, if any of these happen to impinge upon his notice and interest. However, such nature-study makes for the best of scientific ornithology, because by studying the individual birds thus thoroughly, the pupil finally studies a sufficient number of forms so that his knowledge, thus assembled, gives him a better comprehension of birds as a whole than could be obtained by the routine study of the same. Nature-study does not start out with the classification given in books, but in the end it builds up a classification in the child’s mind which is based on fundamental knowledge; it is a classification like that evolved by the first naturalists, it is built on careful personal observations of both form and life.

NATURE-STUDY NOT FOR DRILL

If nature-study is made a drill, its pedagogic value is lost. When it is properly taught, the child is unconscious of mental effort or that he is suffering the act of teaching. As soon as nature-study becomes a task, it should be dropped; but how could it ever be a task to see that the sky is blue, or the dandelion golden, or to listen to the oriole in the elm!

THE CHILD NOT INTERESTED IN NATURE-STUDY

What to do with the pupil not interested in nature-study subjects is a problem that confronts many earnest teachers. Usually the reason for this lack of interest, is the limited range of subjects used for nature-study lessons. Often the teacher insists upon flowers as the lesson subject, when toads or snakes would prove the key to the door of the child’s interest. But whatever the cause may be, there is only one right way out of this difficulty: The child not interested should be kept at his regular school work and not admitted as a member of the nature-study class, where his influence is always demoralizing. He had much better be learning his spelling lesson than learning to hate nature through being obliged to study subjects in which he is not interested. In general, it is safe to assume that the pupil’s lack of interest in nature-study is owing to a fault in the teacher’s method. She may be trying to fill the child’s mind with facts when she should be leading him to observe these for himself, which is a most entertaining occupation for the child. It should always be borne in mind that mere curiosity is always impertinent, and that it is never more so than when exercised in the realm of nature. A genuine interest should be the basis of the study of the lives of plants and lower animals. Curiosity may elicit facts, but only real interest may mold these facts into wisdom.

WHEN TO GIVE THE LESSON

There are two theories concerning the time when a nature-study lesson should be given. Some teachers believe that it should be a part of the regular routine; others have found it of greatest value if reserved for that period of the school day when the pupils are weary and restless, and the teacher’s nerves strained to the snapping point. The lesson on a tree, insect or flower at such a moment affords immediate relief to everyone; it is a mental excursion, from which all return refreshed and ready to finish the duties of the day.

While I am convinced that the use of the nature-study lesson for mental refreshment makes it of greatest value, yet I realize fully that if it is relegated to such periods, it may not be given at all. It might be better to give it a regular period late in the day, for there is strength and sureness in regularity. The teacher is much more likely to prepare herself for the lesson, if she knows that it is required at a certain time.

THE LENGTH OF THE LESSON

The nature-study lesson should be short and sharp and may vary from ten minutes to a half hour in length. There should be no dawdling; if it is an observation lesson, only a few points should be noted and the meaning for the observations made clear. If an outline be suggested for field observation, it should be given in an inspiring manner which shall make each pupil anxious to see and read the truth for himself. The nature story when properly read is never finished; it is always at an interesting point, “continued in our next.”

The teacher may judge as to her own progress in nature-study by the length of time she is glad to spend in reading from nature’s book what is therein written. As she progresses, she finds those hours spent in studying nature speed faster, until a day thus spent seems but an hour. The author can think of nothing she would so gladly do as to spend days and months with the birds, bees and flowers with no obligation for telling what she should see. There is more than mere information in hours thus spent. Lowell describes them well when he says:

“_Those old days when the balancing of a yellow butterfly o’er
a thistle bloom
Was spiritual food and lodging for the whole afternoon._”

THE NATURE-STUDY LESSON ALWAYS NEW

A nature-study lesson should not be repeated unless the pupils demand it. It should be done so well the first time that there is no need of repetition, because it has thus become a part of the child’s consciousness. The repetition of the same lesson in different grades was, to begin with, a hopeless incubus upon nature-study. One disgusted boy declared, “Darn germination! I had it in the primary and last year and now I am having it again. I know _all about germination_.” The boy’s attitude was a just one; but if there had been revealed to him the meaning of germination, instead of the mere process, he would have realized that until he had planted and observed every plant in the world he would not know all about germination, because each seedling has its own interesting story. The only excuse for repeating a nature-study lesson is in recalling it for comparison and contrast with other lessons. The study of the violet will naturally bring about a review of the pansy; the dandelion, of the sunflower; the horse, of the donkey; the butterfly, of the moth.

NATURE-STUDY AND OBJECT LESSONS

The object lesson method was introduced to drill the child to see a thing accurately, not only as a whole, but in detail and to describe accurately what he saw. A book or a vase or some other object was held up before the class for a moment and then removed; afterwards the pupils described it as perfectly as possible. This is an excellent exercise and the children usually enjoy it as if it were a game. But if the teacher has in mind the same thought when she is giving the nature-study lesson, she has little comprehension of the meaning of the latter and the pupils will have less. In nature-study, it is not desirable that the child see all the details, but rather those details that have something to do with the life of the creature studied; if he sees that the grasshopper has the hind legs much longer than the others, he will inevitably note that there are two other pairs of legs and he will in the meantime have come into an illuminating comprehension of the reason the insect is called “grasshopper.” The child should see definitely and accurately all that is necessary for the recognition of a plant or animal; but in nature-study, the observation of form is for the purpose of better understanding life. In fact, it is form linked with life, the relation of “being” to “doing.”

NATURE-STUDY IN THE SCHOOLROOM

Many subjects for nature-study lessons may be brought into the schoolroom. Whenever it is possible, the pupils should themselves bring the material, as the collecting of it is an important part of the lesson. There should be in the schoolroom conveniences for caring for the little prisoners brought in from the field. The terrarium and breeding cages, of different kinds should be provided for the insects, toads and little mammals. Here they may live in comfort, when given their natural food, while the children observe their interesting ways. The ants’ nest, and the observation hive yield fascinating views of the marvelous lives of the insect socialists, while the cheerful prisoner in the bird cage may be made a constant illustration of the adaptations and habits of all birds. The aquaria for fishes, tadpoles and insects afford the opportunity for continuous study of these water creatures and are a never-failing source of interest to the pupils, while the window garden may be made not only an ornament and an aesthetic delight, but a basis for interesting study of plant growth and development.

A schoolroom thus equipped is a place of delight as well as enlightenment to the children. Once, a boy whose luxurious home was filled with all that money could buy and educated tastes select, said of a little nature-study laboratory which was in the unfinished attic of a school building, but which was teeming with life: “I think this is the most beautiful room in the world.”

NATURE-STUDY AND MUSEUM SPECIMENS

The matter of museum specimens is another question for the nature-study teacher to solve, and has a direct bearing on an attitude toward taking life. There are many who believe the stuffed bird or the case of pinned insects have no place in nature-study; and certainly these should not be the chief material. But let us use our common sense; the boy sees a bird in the woods or field and does not know its name; he seeks the bird in the museum and thus is able to place it and read about it and is stimulated to make other observations concerning it. Wherever the museum is a help to the study of life in the field, it is well and good. Some teachers may give a live lesson from a stuffed specimen, and other teachers may stuff their pupils with facts about a live specimen; of the two, the former is preferable.

There is no question that making a collection of insects is an efficient way of developing the child’s powers of close observation, as well as of giving him manual dexterity in handling fragile things. Also it is a false sentiment which attributes to an insect the same agony at being impaled on a pin that we might suffer at being thrust through by a stake. The insect nervous system is far more conveniently arranged for such an ordeal than ours; and, too, the cyanide bottle brings immediate and painless death to the insects placed within it; moreover, the insects usually collected have short lives anyway. So far as the child is concerned, he is thinking of his collection of moths or butterflies and not at all of taking life; so it is not teaching him to wantonly destroy living creatures. However, an indiscriminate encouragement of the making of insect collections cannot be advised. There are some children who will profit by it and some who will not, and unquestionably the best kind of study of insects is watching their interesting ways while they live.

To kill a creature in order to prepare it for a nature-study lesson is not only wrong but absurd, for nature-study has to do with life rather than death, and the form of any creature is interesting only when its adaptations for life are studied. But again, a nature-study teacher may be an opportunist; if without any volition on her part or the pupils’, a freshly killed specimen comes to hand, she should make the most of it. The writer remembers most illuminating lessons from a partridge that broke a window and its neck simultaneously during its flight one winter night, a yellow hammer that killed itself against an electric wire, and a muskrat that turned its toes to the skies for no understandable reason. In each of these cases the creature’s special physical adaptations for living its own peculiar life were studied, and the effect was not the study of a dead thing, but of a successful and wonderful life.

THE LENS, MICROSCOPE AND FIELD GLASS AS HELPS IN NATURE-STUDY

In elementary grades, nature-study deals with objects which the children can see with the naked eye. However, a lens is a help in almost all of this work because it is such a joy to the child to gaze at the wonders it reveals. There is no lesson given in this book which requires more than a simple lens for seeing the most minute parts discussed. An excellent lens may be bought for a dollar, and a fairly good one for fifty cents or even twenty-five cents. The lens should be chained to a table or desk where it may be used by the pupils at recess. This gives each an opportunity for using it and obviates the danger of losing it. If the pupils themselves own lenses, they should be fastened by a string or chain to the pocket.

A microscope has no legitimate part in nature-study. But if there is one available, it reveals so many wonders in the commonest objects, that it can be made a source of added interest ofttimes. For instance, to thus see the scales on the butterfly’s wing affords the child pleasure as well as edification. Field or opera glasses, while indispensable for bird study, are by no means necessary in nature-study. However, the pupils will show greater interest in noting the birds’ colors if they are allowed to make the observations with the help of a glass.

USES OF PICTURES, CHARTS AND BLACKBOARD DRAWINGS

Pictures alone should never be used as the subjects for nature-study lessons, but they may be of great use in illustrating and illuminating a lesson. Books well illustrated are more readily comprehended by the child and are often very helpful to him, especially after his interest in the subject is thoroughly aroused. If charts are used to illustrate the lesson, the child is likely to be misled by the size of the drawing, which is also the case in blackboard pictures. However, this error may be avoided by fixing the attention of the pupil on the object first. If the pupils are studying the ladybird and have it in their hands, the teacher may use a diagram representing the beetle as a foot long and it will still convey the idea accurately; but if she begins with the picture, she probably can never convince the children that the picture has anything to do with the insect.

In making blackboard drawings illustrative of the lesson, it is best, if possible, to have one of the pupils do the drawing in the presence of the class; or, if the teacher does the drawing, she should hold the object in her hand while doing it and look at it often so that the children may see that she is trying to represent it accurately. Taking everything into consideration, however, nature-study charts and blackboard drawings are of little use to the nature-study teacher.

THE USES OF SCIENTIFIC NAMES

Disquieting problems relative to scientific nomenclature always confront the teacher of nature-study. My own practice has been to use the popular names of species, except in cases where confusion might ensue, and to use the scientific names for anatomical parts. However, this matter is of little importance if the teacher bears in mind that the purpose of nature-study is to know the subject under observation and to learn the name incidentally.

If the teacher says: “I have a pink hepatica. Can anyone find me a blue one?” the children, who naturally like grown-up words, will soon be calling these flowers hepaticas. But if the teacher says, “These flowers are called hepaticas. Now please everyone remember the name. Write it in your books as I write it on the blackboard, and in half an hour I shall ask you again what it is,” the pupils naturally look upon the exercise as a word lesson and its real significance is lost. This sort of nature-study is dust and ashes and there has been too much of it. The child should never be _required_ to learn the name of anything in the nature-study work; but the name should be used so often and so naturally in his presence, that he will learn it without being conscious of the process.

THE STORY AS A SUPPLEMENT TO THE NATURE-STUDY LESSON

Many of the subjects for nature lessons can be studied only in part, since but one phase may be available at the time. Often, especially if there is little probability that the pupils will find opportunity to complete the study, it is best to round out their knowledge by reading or telling the story to supplement the facts which they have discovered for themselves. This story should not be told as a finality or as a complete picture but as a guide and inspiration for further study. Always leave at the end of the story an interrogation mark that will remain aggressive and insistent in the child’s mind. To illustrate: Once a club of junior naturalists brought me rose leaves injured by the leaf-cutter bee and asked me why the leaves were cut out so regularly. I told them the story of the use made by the mother bee of these oval and circular bits of leaves and made the account as vital as I was able; but at the end I said, “I do not know which species of bee cut these leaves. She is living here among us and building her nest with your rose leaves which she is cutting every day almost under your very eyes. Is she then so much more clever than you that you cannot see her nor find her nest?” For two years following this lesson I received letters from members of this club. Two carpenter bees and their nests were discovered by them and studied before the mysterious leaf-cutter was finally ferreted out. My story had left something interesting for the young naturalists to discover. The children should be impressed with the fact that the nature story is never finished. There is not a weed nor an insect nor a tree so common that the child, by observing carefully, may not see things never yet recorded in scientific books; therefore the supplementary story should be made an inspiration for keener interest and further investigation on the part of the pupil. The supplementary story simply thrusts aside some of the obscuring underbrush thus revealing more plainly the path to further knowledge.

THE NATURE-STUDY ATTITUDE TOWARD LIFE AND DEATH

Perhaps no greater danger besets the pathway of the nature-study teacher than the question involved in her pupils’ attitude toward life and death. To inculcate in the child a reverence for life and yet to keep him from becoming mawkish and morbid is truly a problem. It is almost inevitable that the child should become sympathetic with the life of the animal or plant studied, since a true understanding of the life of any creature creates an interest which stimulates a desire to protect this particular creature and make its life less hard. Many times, within my own experience, have I known boys, who began by robbing birds’ nests for egg collections, to end by becoming most zealous protectors of the birds. The humane qualities within these boys budded and blossomed in the growing knowledge of the lives of the birds. At Cornell University, it is a well known fact that those students who turn aside so as not to crush the ant, caterpillar or cricket on the pavement are almost invariably those that are studying entomology; and in America it is the botanists themselves who are leading the crusade for flower protection.

Thus, the nature-study teacher, if she does her work well, is a sure aid in inculcating a respect for the rights of all living beings to their own lives; and she needs only to lend her influence gently in this direction to change carelessness to thoughtfulness and cruelty to kindness. But with this impetus toward a reverence for life, the teacher soon finds herself in a dilemma from which there is no logical way out, so long as she lives in a world where lamb chop, beefsteak and roast chicken are articles of ordinary diet; a world in fact, where every meal is based upon the death of some creature. For if she places much emphasis upon the sacredness of life, the children soon begin to question whether it be right to slay the lamb or the chicken for their own food. It would seem that there is nothing for the consistent nature-study teacher to do but become a vegetarian, and even then there might arise refinements in this question of taking life, she might have to consider the cruelty to asparagus in cutting it off in plump infancy, or the ethics of devouring in the turnip the food laid up by the mother plant to perfect her seed. In fact, a most rigorous diet would be forced upon the teacher who should refuse to sustain her own existence at the cost of life; and if she should attempt to teach the righteousness of such a diet she would undoubtedly forfeit her position; and yet what is she to do! She will soon find herself in the position of a certain lady who placed sheets of sticky fly-paper around her kitchen to rid her house of flies, and then in mental anguish picked off the buzzing, struggling victims and sought to clean their too adhesive wings and legs.

In fact, drawing the line between what to kill and what to let live, requires the use of common sense rather than logic. First of all, the nature-study teacher, while exemplifying and encouraging the humane attitude toward the lower creatures, and repressing cruelty which wantonly causes suffering, should never magnify the terrors of death. Death is as natural as life and the inevitable end of physical life on our globe. Therefore, every story and every sentiment expressed which makes the child feel that death is terrible, is wholly wrong. The one right way to teach about death is not to emphasize it one way or another, but to deal with it as a circumstance common to all; it should be no more emphasized than the fact that creatures eat or fall asleep.

Another thing for the nature-study teacher to do is to direct the interest of the child so that it shall center upon the hungry creature rather than upon the one which is made into the meal. It is well to emphasize the fact that one of the conditions imposed upon every living being in the woods and fields, is that it is entitled to a meal when it is hungry, if it is clever enough to get it. The child naturally takes this view of it. I remember well as a child I never thought particularly about the mouse which my cat was eating; in fact, the process of transmuting mouse into cat seemed altogether proper, but when the cat played with the mouse, that was quite another thing, and was never permitted. Although no one appreciates more deeply than I the debt which we owe to Thompson-Seton and writers of his kind, who have placed before the public the animal story from the animal point of view and thus set us all to thinking, yet it is certainly wrong to impress this view too strongly upon the young and sensitive child. In fact, this process should not begin until the judgment and the understanding is well developed, for we all know that although seeing the other fellow’s standpoint is a source of strength and breadth of mind, yet living the other fellow’s life is, at best, an enfeebling process and a futile waste of energy.

SHOULD THE NATURE-STUDY TEACHER TEACH HOW TO DESTROY LIFE?

It is probably within the proper scope of the nature-study teacher to place emphasis upon the domain of man, who being the most powerful of all animals, asserts his will as to which ones shall live in his midst. From a standpoint of abstract justice, the stray cat has just as much right to kill and eat the robin which builds in the vine of my porch as the robin has to pull and eat the earthworms from my lawn; but the place is mine, and I choose to kill the cat and preserve the robin.

When emphasizing the domain of man, we may have to deal with the killing of creatures which are injurious to his interests. Nature-study may be tributary to this, in a measure, and indirectly, but it is surely _not_ nature-study. For example, the child studies the cabbage butterfly in all its stages, the exquisitely sculptured yellow egg, the velvety green caterpillar, the chrysalis with its protecting colors, the white-winged butterfly, and becomes interested in the life of the insect. Not under any consideration, when the attention of the child is focused on the insect, should we suggest a remedy for it when a pest. Let the life-story of the butterfly stand as a fascinating page of nature’s book. But later, when the child enters on his career as a gardener, when he sets out his row of cabbage plants and waters and cultivates them, and does his best to bring them to maturity, along comes the butterfly, now an arch enemy, and begins to rear her progeny on the product of his toil. Now the child’s interest is focused on the cabbage, and the question is not one of killing insects so much as of saving plants. In fact, there is nothing in spraying the plants with Paris green which suggests cruelty to innocent caterpillars, nor is the process likely to harden the child’s sensibilities.

To gain knowledge of the life-story of insects or other creatures is nature-study. To destroy them as pests is a part of Agriculture or Horticulture. The one may be of fundamental assistance to the other, but the two are quite separate and should never be confused.

THE FIELD NOTE-BOOK

A field note-book may be made a joy to the pupil and a help to the teacher. Any kind of a blank book will do for this, except that it should not be too large to be carried in the pocket, and it should always have the pencil attached. To make the note-book a success the following rules should be observed:

(a) The book should be considered the personal property of the child and should never be criticized by the teacher except as a matter of encouragement; for the spirit in which the notes are made, is more important than the information they cover.

(b) The making of drawings should be encouraged for illustrating what is observed. A graphic drawing is far better than a long description of a natural object.

(c) The note-book should not be regarded as a part of the work in English. The spelling, language and writing of the notes should all be exempt from criticism.

(d) As occasion offers, outlines for observing certain plants or animals may be placed in the note-book previous to the field excursion so as to give definite points for the work.

(e) No child should be compelled to have a note-book.

The field note-book is a veritable gold mine for the nature-study teacher to work, in securing voluntary and happy observations from the pupils concerning their out-of-door interests. It is a friendly gate which admits the teacher to a knowledge of what the child sees and cares for. Through it she may discover where the child’s attention impinges upon the realm of nature and thus may know where to find the starting point for cultivating larger intelligence and a wider interest.

I have examined many field note-books kept by pupils in the intermediate grades and have been surprised at their plenitude of accurate observation and graphic illustration. These books ranged from blank account books furnished by the family grocer up to a quarto, the pages of which were adorned with many marginal illustrations made in passionate admiration of Thompson-Seton’s books and filled with carefully transcribed text, that showed the direct influence of Thoreau. These books, of whatever quality, are precious beyond price to their owners. And why not? For they represent what cannot be bought or sold, personal experience in the happy world of out-of-doors.

THE FIELD EXCURSION

Many teachers look upon the field excursion as a precarious voyage, steered between the Scylla of hilarious seeing too much and the Charybdis of seeing nothing at all because of the zest which comes from freedom in the fields and wood. This danger can be obviated if the teacher plans the work definitely before starting, and demands certain results.

It is a mistake to think that a half day is necessary for a field lesson, since a very efficient field trip may be made during the ten or fifteen minutes at recess, if it is well planned. Certain questions and lines of investigation should be given the pupils before starting and given in such a manner as to make them thoroughly interested in discovering the facts. A certain teacher in New York State has studied all the common plants and trees in the vicinity of her school with these recess excursions and the pupils have been enthusiastic about the work.

The half hour excursion should be preceded by a talk concerning the purposes of the outing and the pupils must know that certain observations are to be made or they will not be permitted to go again. This should not be emphasized as a punishment; but they should be made to understand that a field excursion is only, naturally enough, for those who wish to see and understand outdoor life. For all field work, the teacher should make use of the field note-book which should be a part of the pupils’ equipment.

PETS AS NATURE-STUDY SUBJECTS

Little attention has been given to making the child understand what would be the lives of his pets if they were in their native environment; or to relating their habits and lives as wild animals. Almost any pet, if properly observed, affords an admirable opportunity for understanding the reasons why its structure and peculiar habits may have made it successful among other creatures and in other lands.

Moreover the actions and the daily life of the pet make interesting subject matter for a note-book. The lessons on the dog, rabbit and horse as given in this volume may suggest methods for such study, and with apologies that it is not better and more interesting, I have placed with the story of the squirrel a few pages from one of my own note-books regarding my experiences with “Furry.” I include this record as a suggestion for the children that they should keep note-books of their pets. It will lead them to closer observation and to a better and more natural expression of their experiences.

THE CORRELATION OF NATURE-STUDY WITH LANGUAGE WORK

Nature-study should be so much a part of the child’s thought and interest that it will naturally form a thought core for other subjects quite unconsciously on his part. In fact, there is one safe rule for correlation in this case, it is legitimate and excellent training as long as the pupil does not discover that he is correlating. But there is something in human nature which revolts against doing one thing to accomplish quite another. A boy once said to me, “I’d rather never go on a field excursion than to have to write it up for English,” a sentiment I sympathized with keenly; ulterior motive is sickening to the honest spirit. But if that same boy had been a member of a field class and had enjoyed all the new experiences and had witnessed the interesting things discovered on this excursion, and if later his teacher had asked him to write for her an account of some part of it, because _she wished to know what he had discovered_, the chances are that he would have written his story joyfully and with a certain pride that would have counted much for achievement in word expression.

When Mr. John Spencer, known to so many children in New York State as “Uncle John,” was conducting the Junior Naturalist Clubs, the teachers allowed letters to him to count for language exercises; and the eagerness with which these letters were written should have given the teachers the key to the proper method of teaching English. Mr. Spencer requested the teachers not to correct the letters, because he wished the children to be thinking about the subject matter rather than the form of expression. But so anxious were many of the pupils to make their letters perfect, that they earnestly requested their teachers to help them write correctly, which was an ideal condition for teaching them English. Writing letters to Uncle John was such a joy to the pupils that it was used as a privilege and a reward of merit in many schools. One rural teacher reduced the percentage of tardiness to a minimum by giving the first period in the morning to the work in English which consisted of letters to Uncle John.

Why do pupils dislike writing English exercises? Simply because they are not interested in the subject they are asked to write about, and they know that the teacher is not interested in the information contained in the essay. But when they are interested in the subject and write about it to a person who is interested, the conditions are entirely changed. If the teacher, overwhelmed as she is by work and perplexities, could only keep in mind that the purpose of a language is, after all, merely to convey ideas, some of her perplexities would fade away. A conveyance naturally should be fitted for the load it is to carry, and if the pupil acquires the load first he is very likely to construct a conveyance that will be adequate. How often the conveyance is made perfect through much effort and polished through agony of spirit and the load entirely forgotten!

Nature-study lessons give much excellent subject matter for stories and essays, but these essays should never be criticized or defaced with the blue pencil. They should be read with interest by the teacher; the mistakes made in them, so transformed as to be unrecognizable, may be used for drill exercises in grammatical construction. After all, grammar and spelling are only gained by practice and there is no royal road leading to their acquirement.

THE CORRELATION OF NATURE-STUDY AND DRAWING

The correlation of nature-study and drawing is so natural and inevitable that it needs never be revealed to the pupil. When the child is interested in studying any object, he enjoys illustrating his observations with drawings; the happy absorption of children thus engaged is a delight to witness. At its best, drawing is a perfectly natural method of self-expression. The savage and the young child, both untutored, seek to express themselves and their experiences by this means. It is only when the object to be drawn is foreign to the interest of the child that drawing is a task.

Nature-study offers the best means for bridging the gap that lies between the kindergarten child who makes drawings because he loves to and is impelled to from within, and the pupil in the grades who is obliged to draw what the teacher places before him. From making crude and often meaningless pencil strokes, which is the entertainment of the young child, the outlining of a leaf or some other simple and interesting natural object, is a normal step full of interest for the child because it is still self-expression.

Miss Mary E. Hill gives every year in the Goodyear School of Syracuse an exhibition of the drawings made by the children in the nature-study classes; and these are universally so excellent that most people regard them as an exhibition from the Art Department; and yet many of these pupils have never had lessons in drawing. They have learned to draw because they like to make pictures of the living objects which they have studied. One year there were many pictures of toads in various stages in this exhibit, and although their anatomy was sometimes awry in the pictures, yet there was a certain vivid expression of life in their representation; one felt that the toads could jump. Miss Hill allows the pupils to choose their own medium, pencil, crayon, or water-color, and says that they seem to feel which is best. For instance, when drawing the outline of trees in winter they choose pencil, but when representing the trillium or iris they prefer the water-color, while for bitter-sweet and crocuses they choose the colored crayons.

It is through this method of drawing that which interests him, that the child retains and keeps as his own, what should be an inalienable right, a graphic method of expressing his own impressions. Too much have we emphasized drawing as an art; it may be an art, if the one who draws is an artist; but if he is not an artist he still has a right to draw if it pleases him to do so. We might as well declare that a child should not speak unless he put his words into poetry, as to declare that he should not draw because his drawings are not artistic.

THE CORRELATION OF NATURE-STUDY WITH GEOGRAPHY