The hours which the child spends in school are quite as much a part of his life as any other portion of the day, no matter what activities the school provides, and we do violence to the facts when we assume or argue otherwise.  Here is a place for emphasis.  Here is the rock on which many a pedagogical bark has suffered shipwreck.  We become so engrossed in the mechanics of our task—­grades, tests, examinations, and promotions—­that we lose sight of the fact that we are dealing with real life in a situation that is a part of the real world.  The best preparation for life is to practice life aright, and this is the real function of the school.  If teachers only could or would give full recognition to this simple, open truth, there would soon ensue a wide departure from some of our present mechanized methods.  But so long as we cling to the traditional notion that school is detached from real life, so long shall we continue to pursue our merry-go-round methods.  If we could fully realize that we are teaching life by the laboratory method, many a vague and misty phase of our work would soon become clarified.

Seeing, then, that the school is a cross-section of life, it follows, naturally, that it embodies the identical elements that constitute life as a whole.  We all know, by experience, that life abounds in vicissitudes, discouragements, trials, and obstacles, and the school, being a part of real life, must furnish forth the same elements even if of less magnitude.  There are obstacles, to be sure, and there should be.  Abraham Lincoln once said, “When you can’t remove an obstacle, plow around it.”  But teachers are prone to remove the obstacles from the pathway of their pupils when they should be training them to surmount these obstacles or, failing that for the time being, to plow around them.  It is far easier, however, for the teacher to solve the problem for the boy than to stimulate him to solve it independently.  If we would train the boy to leap over hurdles, we must supply the hurdles and not remove them from his path.  Still further, we must elevate the hurdles, by easy gradations, if we would increase the boy’s powers and prowess.

Professor Edgar James Swift says, “Man expends just energy enough to satisfy the demands of the situation in which he is placed.”  This statement is big with meaning for all who have a true conception of pedagogy and of life.  In this sentence we see the finger-board that points toward high achievements in teaching.  If the hurdles are too low, the boy becomes flaccid, flabby, sluggish, and lethargic.  The hurdles should be just high enough to engage his full strength, physical, mental, and moral.  They should ever be a challenge to his best efforts.  But they should never be so high that they will invite discouragement, disaster, and failure.  The teacher should guard against elevating hurdles as an exhibition of her own reach.  The gymnasium is not a stage for exhibitions.  On the contrary, it is a place for graduated, cumulative training.