ships water of icy coldness that chills her pupils to the heart. She has
knowledge, indeed much knowledge, but she lacks wisdom, hence her
knowledge becomes weakness and not power. She has spiritual hysteria which
manifests itself in her manner, in her looks, and in her voice. Her
spiritual strength is insufficient for the load she tries to carry and her
path shows uneven and tortuous. She nags and scolds in strident tones that
ruffle and rasp the spirits of her pupils and beget in them a longing to
become whatever she is not. She is noisy where quiet is needful; she
causes disturbance where there should be peace; and she disquiets where
she should soothe. She may have had training, but she lacks education, for
her spiritual qualities show only chaos. The waters of her soul are
shallow and so are lashed into tumult by the slightest storm. She lacks
serenity.

The test of a real teacher is not whether she will be good _to_ the
children but, rather, whether she will be good _for_ the children, and
these concepts are wide apart. If our colleges and normal schools could
but gain the notion that their function is to prepare teachers who will be
good _for_ children they might find occasion to modify their courses
radically. Unless she has serenity the teacher is not good for children,
for serenity is one of the qualities which they themselves should possess
as the result of their school experience and it is not easy for them to
achieve this quality if the teacher's example and influence are adverse.
We test prospective teachers for their knowledge of this subject and that,
when, in reality, we should be trying to determine whether they will be
good for the pupils. But we have contracted the habit of thinking that
knowledge is power and so test for knowledge, thinking, futilely, that we
are testing for power. We judge of a teacher's efficacy by some marks that
examiners inscribe upon a bit of paper, "a thing laughable to gods and
men." She may be proficient in languages, sciences, and arts and still not