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NATIONAL SECULAR SOCIETY
kJ 05^
THE
JOINT EDUCATION
OF
YOUNG MEN AND WOMEN
IN THE
AMERICAN SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES.
BEING A LECTURE DELIVERED BEFORE THE
SUNDAY LECTURE SOCIETY,
On 27th
of
April, 1873,
BY
MARY E. BEEDY, M.A.,
Graduate of Antioch College, U.S.
LONDON:PUBLISHED
by the
SUNDAY LECTURE SOCIETY.
1873.
Price Threepence.
�SUifoerttsentent.
SUNDAY LECTURE SOCIETY,
To provide for the delivery on Sundays in the Metropolis, and
to encourage the delivery elsewhere, of Lectures on Science,
—physical, intellectual, and moral,—History, Literature,
and Art; especially in their bearing upon the improve
ment and social well-being of mankind.
THE SOCIETY’S LECTURES
ARE DELIVERED AT
ST GEORGE’S HALL, LANGHAM PLACE,
On SUNDAY Afternoons, at FOUR o’clock precisely
(Annually—from November to May).
Twenty-four Lectures (in three series), ending 3rd May,
1874, will be given.
Members’ LI subscription entitles them to an annual ticket
(transferable and admitting to the reserved seats), and to eight
single reserved-seat tickets available for any lecture.
Tickets for each series (one for each lecture), or for any
eight consecutive lectures, as below :
To the Shilling Reserved Seats—5s. 6d.
To the Sixpenny Seats—2s. being at the rate of Three
pence each lecture.
For tickets apply (by letter) to the Hon. Treasurer,
Wm. Henry Domville, Esq., 15 Gloucester Crescent, Hyde
Park, W.
Payment at the door
One Penny
Sixpence ■—and
(Reserved Seats) One Shilling.
�JOINT EDUCATION
OF
YOUNG MEM AND WOMEN.
HE American colonists carried with them their
practical English tendencies.
They were
impressed with a deep sense of the advantages of
education, but it had to be got at the least expense.
In the towns and cities they could have schools
for boys and schools for girls, but in the sparselypopulated rural districts separate schools were
impossible. It was almost more than the farmp.rs
could do to pay the cost of one. All the boys and
girls within a radius of two or three miles met
together in the same school. They were companions
and rivals in their pastimes, and it probably did not
occur to any one to consider whether there could
be any danger in continuing this rivalry in their
lessons. In the rapid growth of the population
some of these rural centres gradually became vil
lages and towns, but the joint education of the
girls and boys went on.
Iwo leading principles in school economy are, to
secure the smallest number of classes, and the
greatest equality of attainment between the pupils
in each class; and these principles favour large
schools rather than numerous schools. Schools
affording a higher grade of instruction, and known
T
�4
"Joint Education of
as academies, sprang up here and there. These
were private enterprises, and the commercial aim
was to furnish the best educational advantages
for the largest number of pupils at the least ex
pense. The teacher wanted to make as much money
as he could, and the parents had in general but little
to spend for the education of their sons and daughters.
The same economical views made these joint schools :
fewer teachers were required. These academies,
with the district schools I have before mentioned,
met almost the entire educational demands of the
rural and village population. A few of the more
ambitious boys went from these academies to the
universities, and a few of the girls went to young
ladies’ boarding-schools; but these were exceptional
cases.
You probably know that we have no men of
wealth and leisure living in the country. The soil
is owned by the men who work it, and the rich
men live in the cities. And I suppose you also know
that in any generation of American men the large
majority of those who lead in commerce, in politics,
and in the professions are the sons of farmers^
who in their boyhood worked on the farms and'
went to these rural schools in the leisure season;
the wives of these men having had for the most
part the same rural training. You can readily
see from this that the peculiarities of our rural
life, the circumstances that gave these men and
women the energy to bring themselves to the front
Tank of society, were likely to mefit with approval.
However, joint education was simply looked upon
as one of the necessities of our youthful life till
about twenty years ago. Men who rose to positions
of wealth and honour upon the basis of the educa
�Young Men and Women.
5
tion received in these schools did not praise joint
education any more than they praised the other
natural and frugal habits that attended their rural
life. No one had philosophised upon this system,
and there was no occasion to think of it. It had
simply been the most natural means of meeting a
great need. In both the district schools and in the
academies the boys and girls did about the same
work. They liked. to keep together. Now and
then a boy went a little farther in mathematics
than the girls did, in the prospect of a business
career and a life in the city; or he learned more Latin
and Greek in preparation for the university. There
was no question about difference of capacity or
difference of tastes between boys and girls; there
was nothing to suggest it. They liked to do the
same things, and the one did as well as the other.
Forty years ago, in one of the academies near Bos
ton, a number of girls went with a set of their school
boy-friends through the entire preparation for Har
vard University. The girls knew mathematics and
Greek as well as the boys did, and formed a plan for
going to the university with them. I cannot say
whether the plan grew out of a keen zest forknow
ledge, or out of an unwillingness to break off the
very pleasant companionship. Probably from both.
The girls did not think there could be much objection
to admitting them at the university. They thought
the reason there were no girls at the universities
was that none had wanted to go, or had been pre
pared to go. They proposed to live at home; so there
would be no difficulty on the score of college resi
dence. However, as their request was new, it
occurred to them that a little diplomacy might be
required in presenting it; so they deputed the most
�6
J
’ oint Education of
prudent of the party to do the talking, and imposed
strict silenee upon the youngest and most impulsive
one, from whom I have the story. The girls called
upon old President Quincy ; they told him what they
had done in their studies,—that they had passed
the examinations with the boys, and wished to be
admitted to the university. He listened'to their
story, and evinced so much admiration for their
work and aims that they at first felt sure of success.
But President Quincy seemed slow in coming to the
point. He talked of the newness and difficulties of
the scheme, and proposed other opportunities of
study for them, till at length this youngest one,
forgetting in her impatience her promise to keep
silent, said, “Well, President Quincy, you feel sure
the trustees will let us come, don’t you ? ”
0, by
no means,” was the reply :“ this is a place only for
men.”' The girl of sixteen burst into tears, and
exclaimed with vehemence, “ I wish I could anni
hilate the women, and let the men have every
thing to themselves! ”
This, so far as I know, was the first effort made
by women to get into an American university, but
the incident was too trifling to make any impression,
and I narrate it only as marking the beginning of
the demand for university advantages for women.
About the same time Oberlin College was founded
in Northern Ohio. It grew out of a great practical
everyday-life demand. There was a wide-spread
desire on the part of well-to-do people for larger
educational advantages than the ordinary rural
schools provided. They could not afford the expense
of the city schools : besides, they wanted their sons
and daughters to go on together in their school work ;
they were unwilling to subject either to the dangers
�Young Men and Women.
7
of boarding-school life without the companionship
and guardianship of the other. Oberlin College was
founded on the strictest principles of economy. It
was located in a rural village in the West, where the
habits were simple and the living inexpensive. In
the third year of its existence it had 500 students,
and since the first ten years it has averaged nearly
1,200, the proportion of young women varying from
one-third to one-half. There was a university
course of study for the young men, and a shorter
ladies’ course for the young women, which omitted
all the Greek, most of the Latin, and the higher
mathematics. It was not anticipated that the
young women would desire the extended university
course, but so far as the two courses accorded the
instruction was given to the young men and the
young women in common. But the young women
were allowed to attend any of the classes they chose,
and at the end of six years a few of them had pre
pared themselves for the B.A. examination, and
were allowed upon passing it to receive the degree.
The college authorities did not seem to consider
that B.A. and M.A. were especially masculine
designations. They regarded them only as marks of
scholastic attainments, which belonged equally to
men and women when they had reached a certain
standard of scholarship. Not many Women could
stay, or cared to stay, long enough to get these
degrees. The “ ladies’ course ” required nearly two
years’ less-time, and contained a larger proportion of
the subjects that women are expected to know. The
number of women who have received the university
degrees from Oberlin is still less than a hundred,
making an average of only two or three for each
year. Oberlin sent out staunch men and women.
�"8
"Joint Education of
Wherever these men and women went it was ob
served that they worked with a will and with effect.
The eminent success of Oberlin led many parents
in different parts of the country to desire its advan
tages for their sons and daughters. But Oberlin was
a long way off from New England and from many
other parts of the country; besides some thought
it an uncomfortably religious place; negroes were
admitted, and it was altogether very democratic,
much more so than many people liked. So parents
began to say, 11 Why can’t we have other colleges
that shall provide all the advantages of Oberlin and
omit the peculiarities we dislike.” Now began the
discussion upon the real merits of this economical
system of joint education. It had sprung up like
an indigenous plant. It had met a necessity remark
ably . well, and it was only when, its advantages
becoming recognised, it began to press itself into
the cities and among people where it was not a ne
cessity, that it evoked any discussion. This was a
little more than twenty years ago. People who had
observed the working of the joint schools were alto
gether in favour of them. The wealthier people in
the towns and cities, who were accustomed to having
boys and girls educated apart, preferred separate
schools, and thought joint education would be a dan
gerous innovation ; that in the institution adopting
it the girls would lose their modesty and refinement,
and the boys would waste their time. Leading edu
cators were divided upon this question: „ those who
were familiar with the joint schools were the most
uncompromising advocates of that system; those
who had known only the schools where girls and
boys were educated apart for the most part preferred
separate education, where it could be afforded. Not
�Young Men and Women.
9
all, however, for many had developed the theory of
joint education out of an opposite experience. In
girls’ schools they had felt the want of adequate
stimulants for thorough work. They had seen the
strong tendency in girls to fit themselves for society
rather than for the severer duties of life ; they be
lieved that if girls were associated with boys and
young men in their studies, they would not only be
better scholars, but that they would remain longer
in school, that they would have less eagerness to
get out of school into society. And many who
were familiar with boys’ schools felt the dangers
attendant upon the absence of domestic influence,
and saw that it might be very largely supplied by
the presence of sisters and schoolfellows’ sisters.
They saw too that the tendencies to a coarse
physical development, which are found in an ex
clusive- society of men, might be counteracted by
the presence of women. In short, all who were
acquainted with joint education gave it their most
unqualified approval; while those who knew only
the system of separate education were for the most
part disposed to favour that, though many of these
saw the need of something in girls’ schools which the
presence of boys would introduce, and something in
boys’ schools which the presence of girls would sup
ply. The advocacy of joint education was valiantly
led by Horace Mann, the greatest American educator,
the man who stands with us where Dr Arnold
stands in the hearts of English people.
About this time Antioch College was founded in
Southern Ohio, and Mr Mann was invited to take
charge of it. Its object was to provide educational
facilities as nearly equal to those found at the best
New England universities as possible, and it
was
�io
Joint Education of
founded avowedly upon the principle that joint
education per se was a good thing; that it was
natural; that it was a great advantage to have
brothers and sisters in the same school; that girls
were both more scholarly and more womanly when
associated with boys, and boys were more gentle
manly and more moral when associated with girls ;
and that both girls and boys come out of joint
schools with juster views of life, and a larger sense
of moral obligation.
Other new colleges followed the example of
Antioch, and some of the old ones began to open their
doors to women. To-day the national free schools
and public schools in most of the cities of the North
educate boys and girls together. In some of the older
cities, particularly Boston, New York, and Phila
delphia, the schools are for the most part conducted
on the original plan of separate schools. The school
buildings are not arranged for the accommodation of
boys and girls together, and there is still a strong
sentiment against the plan, though it is gradually,
and I may say rapidly, giving way. In tire Western
cities, Cincinnati, Chicago, and St Louis, the boys
and girls study together throughout the entire
course, that is, till they are ready to go to the
universities ; though in St Louis, and perhaps in
the other two cities, there are a few of the grammar
schools where they are still apart, the buildings not
being arranged for the accommodation of both.
The system prevails in the rural schools almost
without exception, and almost as generally in the
public schools' of the towns and cities, with the
exceptions that I have mentioned ; there are now
over thirty colleges and universities that offer univer
sity degrees to women on the same conditions as
�Young Men and Women.
11
to men. On the other hand, there is still a large
number of private schools in the towns and cities
which are generally either boys’ schools or girls’
schools. They are for the most part schools esta
blished for teaching the children of some pai-ticular
religious denomination, for fitting boys for a com
mercial career, or for giving especial drill for the
universities; or, in the case of girls’ schools, for
giving especial training for society: but the public
schools are rapidly drawing into them the children
of the best educated families, for the simple reason
that they are the best schools of the country.
The oldest universities and colleges still keep
their doors shut against women. Harvard, within
the last year, has appointed a committee to consider
the demand made by women, but their report was
adverse. The committee recognised the success of
the system elsewhere, but thought it not wise to
attempt the change in Harvard.
Michigan University, a free state university,
which stands second to none in educational advan
tages, except Harvard and Yale, and has double the
number of students of either of these, admitted
women three years ago. And Cornell University,
which has as good prospects as any in the country,
has just received its first class of women.
I heard it announced with great gravity in the
British Association a year-and-a-half ago in Edin
burgh, that girls had no difficulty in learning arith
metic, and no one smiled. So completely is this
question settled with us, that I think such .an
announcement would have been received by a
public assembly in America with a derisive laugh.
Joint schools and colleges have settled the question
whether girls can learn not only arithmetic, but
�12
'Joint Education of
also the higher mathematics, logic, and metaphysics;
and have established beyond a doubt in the minds
of American educators, that in acute perception,
in the ability to grasp abstruse principles, the
feminine mind is in no wise inferior to the mascu
line. But the question is still open, whether
women have the physical strength to endure the
continuous mental work requisite for the greatest
breadth and completeness of comprehension. This
can be determined only by experiments which shall
extend through a longer series of years devoted to
study. The records at Oberlin indicate that the
young women are no more likely to break down in
health than the young men are. The records of
the city schools do not seem to be quite the same
upon this point, but the same difference would
doubtless appear if the girls were not in school; and
this failure in health cannot be attributed to the
school work, but rather to the more indoor life of the
girls. The Oberlin statistics also indicate that the
women who have taken the university degrees have
not diminished their chance of longevity by this
severe work in their youth. Women have less phy
sical strength than men have, but there seems to be
in them a tendency to a more economical expendi
ture of strength. Their energy is less driving, and
there is, in consequence, less waste from friction.
In regard to the social morality at these schools
the results are equally satisfactory. At the rural
schools boys and girls. have almost unrestricted
companionship; they have just the same freedom
in their home intercourse, but improper or even
objectionable conduct is a'thing unknown at the
schools, and almost equally unknown in the associa
tion outside the schools. Brothers and brothers’
�Young Men and Women.
13
friends guard the sister, and sisters and their friends
o-uard the brother. In cases where it is necessary
for the pupils to reside at the school there is more
love-making, but it is mostly repressed by want of
time; besides, there are few occasions for meeting,
except in the presence of the class, and where there
is an acquaintance with so many on about equal
terms an especial regard for one is less likely to be
formed. The admiration of the boys is suie to
centre upon the girls who are nearest the head
of the class; but these girls have not time to return
it and keep their position, and to lose their position
would be to lose the admiration; and the same is
true with the boys.
I am sure it would be surprising to any one who
is not familiar with these schools to observe to what
very practical and common-sense principles all these
otherwise romantic and illusory relations are sub
jected. In this mutual intellectual rivalship the
conjectural differences between the sexes, and the
fancied charms of the one over the other, are sub
mitted to very practical tests. A disagreeable boy
is not likely to be considered a hero in virtue of his
assumed bearing and physical strength; nor is a
silly girl, by* dint of her coquettish airs likely to
be thought a fairy with magical gifts. Girls know
boys as boys know each other; and boys know girls
as girls know each other. Hence the subtle charms
that evade human logic find little opportunity to
blind and mislead in the constant presence of unmistakeable facts.
In all the time I was at Antioch College no word
of disreputable scandal ever came to my ears, and
in recent years I have repeatedly heard from young
men who were there when I was, that in their whole
�14
Joint Education of
five or six years they never heard the faintest shadow
of imputation against any young woman in the
institution. And so stern was the morality, that
smoking, beer-drinking, and card-playing were
all considered crimes,, and banished from the
premises.
You have now heard my statement respecting the
effectiveness of joint education, and, though it is
made from a very extended and thorough acquaint
ance with the system, I shall not ask you to accept
it without the support of other and authoritative
testimony. Abundant confirmation of my state
ment will be found in all Official Reports and in
treatises that review this system, while no testi
mony of a contrary character is anywhere to be
found. I will first quote from the published
. Report of Mr Harris, Superintendent of the Public
Schools in St Louis. He is well known to the
leading students of German philosophy in all the
countries of Europe, and I think I may say in
his own country is recognised as standing in the
front rank of American educators. No other man
has brought so much philosophical insight to the
study of dur public school system. I quote from
Mr Harris’s Report of 1871 a condensed summary
of the results- of this system of joint education as
they have developed themselves under his observa
tion and direction. He says :—
- “ Within the last fifteen years the schools of St Louis have
been remodelled upon the plan of the joint education of the
sexes, and the results have proved so admirable that a few
remarks may be ventured on the experience which they
furnish.
. “ I-—Economy has been secured, for, unless pupils of widely
different attainments are brought together in the same classes,
�Young Men and Women.
15
the separation of the boys and girls requires a great increase
in the number of teachers.
“II.—Discipline has improved continually by the adoption
of joint schools ; our change in St Louis has been so gradual
that we have been able to weigh with great exactness every
point of comparison between the two systems. The joining
of the male and female departments of a school has always
been followed by an improvement in discipline ; not merely
on the part of the boys, but with the girls as well. The rude
ness and abandon which prevails among boys when separate
at once gives place to self-restraint in the presence of girls,
and the sentimentality engendered in girls when educated
apart from boys disappears in these joint schools, and in its
place there comes a dignified self-possession. The few schools
that have given examples of efforts to secure clandestine asso
ciation are those few where there are as yet only girls.
“ HI.—The quality of instruction is improved. Where the
boys and girls are separate, methods of instruction tend to
extremes, that may be called masculine and feminine. Each
needs the other as a counter-check. We find in these joint
schools a prevalent healthy tone which our schools on the
separate system lack—more rapid progress is the conse
quence.
“ IV.—The development of individual character is, as
already indicated, far more sound and healthy. . It has been
found that schools composed exclusively of girls or boys
require a much more strict surveillance on the part of the
teachers. Confined by themselves and shut off from inter
course with society in its normal form, morbid fancies and
interests are developed which this daily association in the
class-room prevents. Here boys and girls test themselves
with each other on an intellectual plane. Each sees the
strength and weakness of the other, and learns to esteem
those qualities that are of true value. Sudden likes, capri
cious fancies, and romantic ideas give way to sober judgments
not easily deceived by mere externals. This is the basis of
the dignified self-possession before alluded to, and it forms a
striking point of contrast between the girls and boys edu
cated in joint schools and those educated in schools exclu
sively for one sex. Our experience in St Louis has been
entirely in favour of the joint education of the sexes, in all
the respects mentioned and in many minor ones.”
�16
Joint Education of
I give Mr Harris’s statement as representative of
the sentiment of those who are engaged in public
school instruction in America. As I said before, in
some of the older cities, where the public schools
were earliest organised, the joint system has been
accepted as yet only partially, and the teachers, who
are only familiar with the separate system, gene
rally prefer it. But a very large proportion of
the public schools of the country are joint schools,
and a still larger proportion of the instructors and
managers of public schools favour the system of
joint education. Mr Harris’s testimony applies to
city schools, when the pupils reside at home.
I now quote to you from another authority, addi
tionally valuable inasmuch as it represents the
results of this system of education upon young men
and women who reside at the school and away from
the guardianship of parents.
In 1868 a meeting was called of all the College
Presidents of the country, to discuss questions
relating to college discipline and instruction. As
Oberlin was the oldest college that had adopted
the system of joint instruction, a strong desire
was felt to secure a critical and comprehensive
statement of the results of the system there. Dr
Fairchild, the present President of Oberlin, was
deputed to make the Report. He had at that
time been connected with Oberlin seven years
as a student and twenty-five years as professor,
and has long had the reputation of being the most
accomplished scholar and acute thinkei' among the
Oberlin professors. His statements may therefore
be accepted as absolute in point of fact, and as
wholly representative of the opinion of those who
have conducted the instruction and discipline at
�Young Men and Women.
!7
Oberlin. But my chief reason for selecting this out
of the accumulated published testimony is that it
.seems to me the best digest of the subject that I
have seen.
Dr Fairchild says :—
“ 1st.—On the point of economy In the higher depart
ments of instruction, where the chief expense is involved,
the. expense is no greater on account of the presence of the
ladies.
“ 2nd.—Convenience to the patrons of the school:—It is a
matter of interest to notice the number of cases where a
brother is followed by a sister, or a sister by a brother. This
is an interesting and prominent feature in our work. Each is
safer in the presence of the other.
“3rd.—The wholesome incitements to study, which the
system affords :—The social influence arising from the consti
tution of our classes operates continuously and upon all.
Each desires for himself the best standing he is capable of,
and there is no lack of motive to exertion. It will be observed,
too, that the stimulus is of the same kind as will operate in
after life. The young man going out into the world does
not leave behind him the forces that have helped him on.
They are the ordinary forces of society.
“ 4th.-—The tendency to good order that we find in the
system :—The ease with which the discipline of so large a
school is conducted has not ceased to be a matter of wonder
to ourselves. More than one thousand students are gathered
from every State in the Union, from every class in society, of
every grade of culture, the great mass of them bent on im
provement, but numbers are sent by anxious friends with the
hope that they may be saved or reclaimed from every evil
tendency. Yet the disorders incident to such gatherings are
essentially unknown among us. Our streets are as quiet
by day and by night as in any other country town. This
result we attribute greatly to the wholesome influence of the
system of joint education. College tricks lose their attrac
tiveness in a community thus constituted. They scarcely
appear among us. We have had no difficulty in reference to
the conduct and manners in the college dining-hall. There is
an entire absence of the irregularities and roughness so often
complained of in the college commons.
“ 5th.—Another manifest advantage is the relation of the
B
�18
Joint Education of
school to the community. A cordial feeling of goodwill and
the absence of that antagonism between town and college
which in general belongs to the history of universities and
colleges. The constitution of the school is so similar to that
of the community that any conflict is unnatural; the usual
provocation seems to be wanting,
“ 6th.—It can hardly be doubted that people educated
under such conditions are kept in harmony with society at
large, and are prepared to appreciate the responsibilities of
life, and to enter upon its work. If we are not utterly de
ceived in our position, our students naturally and readily find
their position in the world, because they have been trained in
sympathy with the world. These are among the advantages
of the system that have forced themselves upon our attention.
The list might be extended and expanded, but you will wish
especially to know whether'we have not encountered disad
vantages and difficulties which more than counterbalance
these advantages.
“ As to the question whether young ladies have the mental
vigour and physical health to maintain a fair standing in a
class with voung men, I must say, where there has been the
same preparatory training, we find no difference in ability to
maintain themselves in the class-room and at the examina
tions. The strong and the weak scholars are equally distri
buted between the sexes.
“ Whether ladies need a course of study especially adapted
to their nature and prospective work ?—The theory of our
school has never been that men and women are alike in
mental constitution, or that they naturally and properly
occupy the same position in their work of life. The educa
tion furnished is general, not professional, designed to fit men
and women for any position or work to which they may pro
perly be called. The womanly nature will appropriate the
material to its own necessities under its own laws.' Young
men and women sit at the same table and parta.ke of the
same food, and we have no apprehension that the vital forces
will fail to elaborate from the common material the osseous,
fibrous, and nervous tissues adapted to each frame and
constitution.
.
<£ Apprehension is felt that character will deteriorate on
the one side or the other,—that young men will become
frivolous or effeminate, and young women coarse and mas
culine.
�Toung Men and Women.
T9
“ That young men should lose their manly attributes and
character from proper association with, cultivated young
women is antecedently improbable and false in fact. It is
the natural atmosphere for the development of the higher
qualities of manhood—magnanimity, generosity, true chivalry,
and earnestness. The animal man is kept subordinate in the
prevalence of these higher qualities.
“We have found it the surest way to make men of boys
and gentlemen of rowdies.
“ On the other hand, will not the young woman, pursuing
her studies with young men, take on their manners, and
aspirations, and aims, and be turned aside from the true ideal
of womanly life and character ? The thing is scarcely con
ceivable. The natural response of woman to the exhibition
of manly traits is in the correlative qualities of gentleness,
delicacy, and grace.
“ It might better be questioned whether, the finer shadings
of woman’s character can be developed without this natural
stimulus ; but it is my duty not to reason, but to speak from
the limited historical view assigned me.
“You wish to know whether the result with us has been a
large accession to the number of coarse, strong-minded women,
in the disagreeable sense of the word; and I say, without
hesitation, that I do not know a single instance of such a
product as the result of our system of education.
“ Is there not danger that young men and young women
thus brought together in the critical period of fife, when the
distinctive social tendencies act with greatest intensity, will
fail of the necessary regulative force, and fall into undesirable
and unprofitable relations ? Will not such association result
in weak and foolish love affairs ? It is not strange that such
apprehension is felt, nor would it be easy to give an a priori
answer to such difficulties ; but if we may judge from our
experience, the difficulties are without foundation. The
danger in this direction results from excited imagination,
from the glowing exaggerations of youthful fancy, and the
best remedy is to displace these fancies by every-day facts
and realities.
“Theyoung man shut out from the society of ladies, with
the help of the high-wrought representations of life which
poets and novelists afford, with only a distant vision of the
reality, is the one who is in danger. The women whom he
sees are glorified by his fancy, and are wrought into his day
�io
Joint Education of
dreams and night dreams as beings of supernatural loveliness.
It would be different if he met them day by day in the class
room, in a common encounter with a mathematical problem,
or at a table sharing in the common want of bread and butter.
There is still room for the fancy to work, but the materials
for the picture are more reliable and enduring. Such associa
tion does not take all the romance out of life, but it gives as
favourable conditions for sensible views and actions upon
these delicate questions as can be afforded to human nature.
“ But is this method adapted to schools in general, or is the
success attained at Oberlin due to peculiar features of the
place, which can rarely be found or reproduced elsewhere,
and can it be introduced into men’s colleges with their tradi
tional customs and habits of action and thought ? Might not
the changes required occasion difficulty at the outset and
peril the experiment ? On this point I have no experience,
but I have such confidence in the inherent vitality and
adaptability of the system that I should be entirely willing to
see it subjected to this test.”
I am sorry not to give you a more lengthened
account of Dr Fairchild’s Report, but the time warns
me to hasten.
Respecting economy, school discipline, social
order, and the improved character of both young
men and young women, and the high scholar
ship attained by young women, you see that Dr
Fairchild’s statement fully corroborates my own
and that of Mr Harris. He agrees with us that
the grade of scholarship of the young men is in no
wise lowered by this joint work, but, on the con
trary, that the average is higher.
To be definite upon this point, my own opinion
is that those marvellous feats of scholarship that
sometimes occur in boys’ schools are not so likely to
occur in a joint school, where a little more of the
domestic and social element is found. On the other
hand, from a long and close observation, I feel fully
justified in saying the average scholarship is higher.
�Young Men and 'Women.
21
There is a more general stimulus for good scholar
ship. The standard of respectability is somewhat
different from what it is in a school exclusively for
boys. A boy may secure the respect of his boy
associates by being an adept on the playground or
generally a good fellow, but as he is known to the
girls only through his class work, he feels more
especially bound to make this creditable.
I should like to accumulate authority upon these
points, but I must ask you to accept my statement
that the opinions I have' given you are those held
by the very large majority of the educators of the
country.
In this system of joint education you see that
the difficulty of getting funds to establish schools
scarcely appears as an obstacle to the higher edu
cation of women. It requires so little more to edu
cate girls along with boys than it does to educate
boys alone, and lack of the masculine incentive to
study is largely supplied to the girls by class
rivalry. The girls like to remain at school, and
they like to do as much work and as good work as
the boys do; and the boys are equally eager to keep
the companionship of the girls, and to keep up the
competition in all the departments of the work.
There is a mutual rivalry which both enjoy, and
the girls work with zest, without thinking whether
there is to be any reward beyond the simple enjoy
ment of their work, without considering whether it
will ever bring them any farther returns.
The work of the girls in the joint schools has
done much to force up the standard in the exclu
sively girls’ schools. These schools could not afford
the disparaging comparison. So the teachers intro
duce the same studies as are found in the joint
�22
Joint Education of
schools, and do the best they can to get as good
work from their girls. But in most of the girls’
schools I have ever visited, the work will not com
pare with the work of girls in the joint schools.
When Dr Fairchild says he does not know a '
single instance in which a coarse, strong-minded
woman, in the disagreeable sense, has been the pro
duct of the Oberlin system of education, it must not
be understood that there have been no women of that
type at Oberlin, for there have been, and Oberlin
lias done much to soften them and refine them,
but it could not wholly change their natures and
previously-acquired habits. Upon this point there
is a pernicious popular delusion, and I am at a loss
to account for its origin. It is not association with
men that developes this type of character. The
reverse of this is the case, as Dr Fairchild has
indicated. It is true that many highly-intellectual
and highly-educated women have been peculiar,
have developed peculiarities or idiosyncrasies of
character or habit which lessened their companion
able and womanly attractiveness, but these women
have generally worked by themselves, away from
society, apart from the companionship of men.
Joint schools are the most complete corrective of
these tendencies. Whatever elevates women in the
eyes of men they are disposed to cultivate in the
presence of men, and whatever elevates men in the
eyes of women they cultivate in the presence of
women. There is little danger of careless toilet
with young women who are constantly meeting
young men; little danger of angular movement, of
unamiable sharpness, of egotism, and pronounced
self-assertion.
The disagreeable women, the women contemp-
�Toung Men and Women.
23
tuously called strong-minded, are women who have
not known a genial social atmosphere. Crotchety
men and crotchety women are the product of isola
tion from society, and formerly women could not
mount the heights of knowledge except in isolation.
The attractive women, the women who seem to have
a genius for womanliness, are the women who have
been much in the society of men,—women at court,
women in political and diplomatic circles, women
who are familiar with the thought and’ experience
of men, women who talk with men and work with
men.
Social intercourse at these joint schools is not of
course left to chance. Girls and boys need and get
as careful attention at school as in their homes.
Usually they enter and leave the school building
by different doors, and indeed meet only when they
are receiving instruction from the teachers, where
they occupy separate forms on different sides of the
room. Among the older pupils, at all times, except
at the lecture hours, the girls usually have their own
rooms and the boys theirs,'and no communication
between them is possible, except as the teachers
choose to grant permission, which is not asked with
out explaining the occasion. The boys do not
appear to care very much to talk to the girls, at
least they would not be willing to have it seen that
they did. At the boarding-schools the young men
and young women usually have their private apart
ments in different buildings, but meet in a common
dining-hall in the building occupied by the young
■ women. Here they arrange themselves as they
like, the size of the company and the presence of
teachers being quite sufficient to exclude objection
able manners. At the times allowed for recreation
�24
.•
Joint Education of
the arrangements are such as to preclude for the
most part opportunities for young men and young
women to meet, though there are very frequent
receptions at .the homes of the professors or at the
general parlours, when they meet as they would at
any ordinary social party. At a few of the smaller
boarding-schools much more freedom, of intercourse
has been allowed, and with very admirable results ;
but this requires great wisdom and care on the part
of the teachers, more than they are generally able
to give in a large school. Where the pupils live at
home no very especial care is required on the part
of the teachers, further than would under any
circumstances be necessary to secure general good
order.
This system of education developes self-reliance
and a sense of responsibility, to such a degree that,
as I quoted from Dr Fairchild, it is a constant sur
prise to see how little direction they need. A good
many times while I was at Antioch College, young
men who had got into disgrace, or had been dis
missed from young men’s colleges, were sent there
to be reclaimed from their bad habits, and it is
surprising what effect this home-like association
had upon them.
I have already mentioned Michigan University
as the best institution that has as yet opened its
doors to women. This was done three years ago.
For ten years the question had been pending before
the trustees. A letter was addressed to Horace
Mann, asking for minute information concerning
the working of Antioch, and seeking counsel in
reference to the advisability of attempting the
tame plan at the Michigan University. Mr Mann
replied, that though he was an ardent advocate
�Toung Men and Women. '
25
of joint education and was satisfied with the
results achieved at Antioch, he should be afraid
to attempt the plan in a large town, where college
residence was not required. This ‘letter settled
the matter for the time. The trustees said:—
“ We cannot, endanger the morality of our students,
and the reputation of our institution, to accommo
date the few women who wish to come. We give
them our sympathy, but can at present do nothing
more.” But every now and then, with the change
of trustees, the question was revived. The men of
this new rich State felt ashamed to do so much less
for their daughters than for their sons, and they
were particularly sensitive to the argument that the
privileges of the institution could be extended to
the young women with almost no increase in the
expenses. Three years ago the opposition found
itself in the minority, and a resolution was passed
admitting women to all the classes of the university.
The dangers Horace Mann feared have not, and
in all probability will not come. Even the young
men, who in anticipation dreaded an invasion of
women into their realm of free-and-easy habits,
now unite in the most cordial approval of the plan.
They find a genial element added to their college
life in place of a chafing restraint.
The first year only one woman came into the
Arts-classes. This bold venturer was the daughter
of a deceased professor, by whom she had been
trained up to a point a good deal in advance of the
requisites for entrance. This enabled her to step at
once into the front rank of the class of two hundred
young men, who had been in the university a year
before her. No sooner was she there than the
dread and anticipated restraint on the part of the
�26
*
'Joint Education of
young men were forgotten, and the most chivalric
feeling sprang up in its place.
For a whole year Miss Stockwell was alone in
the Arts-classes among seven or eight hundred young
men, yet nothing ever occurred to make her feel in
the slightest degree uncomfortable. She took her
B.A. degree last summer as the first Greek scholar
in the university. There are now a hundred young
women or more in the various departments of
the university. The Professor of Civil Engineer
ing has been in the habit of giving to his class
every year a particular mathematical problem,
a sort of pons asinorum, as a test of their
ability. Not once during fifteen years had any
member of the class solved it, though the professor
states that during that time he has propounded it
to fifteen hundred young men. Last year, as usual,
the old problem was again presented to the class.
A Miss White alone, of all the class, brought in the
solution. The best student in the Law school last
year was a woman.
I could tell you many other stories of the suc
cesses of women in these joint schools, but it would
not be safe to conclude from these accounts that the
young women in America are superior to the young
men ; for, as you would naturally suppose, the few
women who at present avail themselves of university
training, in opposition to the popular notion of what
is wise and becoming, are for the most part above
the average of the women of the country. I think
I may say, however, that girls are a little more
likely to lead the classes in the schools than boys
are. They are, perhaps, a little more conscientious
in doing the work assigned them, and have a little
more school ambition.
�Toung Men and Women.
27
I quote the following from the Annual Report of
the Michigan University for the year ending 1872 :—
■ “ In the Medical Department the women receive instruc
tion by themselves. In the other departments all instruction
is given to both sexes in common.
“ It is manifestly not wise to leap to hasty generalisations
from our short experience in furnishing education to both
sexes in our university. But I think all w’ho have been
familiar with the inner life of the university for the past
three years will admit that, thus far, no reason for doubting
the wisdom of the action of the trustees in opening the uni
versity to women has appeared.
“Hardly one of the many embarrassments which some
have feared have confronted us. The young women have
addressed themselves to their work with great zeal, and have
shown themselves quite capable of meeting the demands of
severe studies as successfully as their classmates of the other
sex. Their work, so far, does not evince less variety of apti
tude or less power of grappling even with the higher mathe
matics than we find in the young men. They receive no
favour, and desire none. They are subjected to precisely the
same tests as the men. Nor does their work seem to put a
dangerous strain upon their physical powers. Their absences
by reason of illness do not proportionably exceed those of the
men. Their presence has not called for the enactment of a
single new law, nor for the slightest change in our methods of
government or grade of work.
“If we are asked still to regard the reception of women
into our classes as an experiment, it must certainly be deemed
a most hopeful experiment. The numerous inquiries that
have been sent to us from various parts of this country, and
even from England, concerning the results of their admission
to the university, show that a profound and wide-spread
interest in the subject has been awakened.”
I can say for myself, that I have never known
any one who has spent a few days at one of these
colleges who has not become a convert to the
scheme.
There is in America a strong and constantly
growing conviction, that the best plan for educating
.
�28
"Joint Education of
both boys and girls is for them to reside at home
and attend day schools; that this avoids the defects
attendant upon the system of governesses and
tutors, and also the dangers that are inherent in
the congregated life of boarding-schools; and as
American families seldom leave home for, at most,
more than a few weeks in midsummer, this plan is
easily carried out. In accordance with this con
viction, the citizens of Boston have recently erected
and endowed a large university in the centre of
their city, although the time-honoured Harvard
stands scarcely two miles beyond their precincts.
The Boston University, which starts with larger
available funds than those of Harvard, will be
opened this autumn, and as a second step in the
direction of the popular educational sentiment, the
trustees have decided to offer its advantages and
honours to young women on the same conditions as
to young men.
There is evidently a disposition in America to
open all lines of study to women, and a few women
have entered each of the three learned professions,
but the time is too short and the number too small
for us to be able as yet to generalise upon the fitness
of women for professions, or their inclination to
choose them.
Most of our women—I think I may almost say
all of our women—expect to marry, and most of
them do marry. We have not that redundancy of
women to trouble and puzzle the advocates of
domesticity that you have here; and as fortunes are
more easily made, men are not timid in incurring
domestic responsibilities. As a consequence of this,
the industrial occupations that women seek, other
than domestic, are expected to be only temporary,
�Young Men and Women.
ig
and are such as may be entered upon without
much especial professional training, and may be
given up without involving much sacrifice of pre
vious study or discipline. I think I may say there
is a very general disposition to seek those that will
especially contribute to their fitness for domestic
life.
This brings me to a peculiar feature of American
education—the prevalence of women teachers. In
the public schools of St Louis there are forty men
teachers and over four hundred women teachers;
only about one-twelfth of the whole number are
men, and this I think would be about the general
average for the cities of the north. The primary
schools are taught exclusively by women—most of
the grammar schools have only a man at the head of
them, and in the high schools there is about an
equal number of men and women.
In two of the most successful grammar schools in
St Louis there are only women teachers. Recent
experiments in placing women at the head of several
of the grammar schools in Cleveland, Ohio, give
still stronger confirmation of the marked governing
power of women as contrasted with men.
Women teachers have been employed in the
schools in preference to men as a matter of economy,
but underneath this cloak of economy an unex
pected virtue has been found. It is now pretty
well settled that with equal experience and scholarly
attainments women teach better than men do, and
that they manage the pupils with more tact; that
is, they succeed in getting from the pupils what
they want, with more ease and less disturbance of
temper.
Where women do precisely the, same work as
�jo
Joint Education of
men in teaching, they get less pay. Wages have
followed the law of supply and demand. The guar
dians of the public school treasures have generally
not felt at liberty to offer more than the regular
market prices for work. But I am glad to say the
more enlightened public feeling is beginning to make
a change in this respect. A few women are paid
men’s wages—are paid what they ought to have,
rather than what they could command in an open
market.
Teaching in America, as I have indicated, is for
the most part a temporary occupation ; it is chiefly
done by young people between the ages of eighteen
and thirty who have no intention of making it a
profession. The women marry and the men enter
other occupations. How much the schools lose by
the immaturity and inexperience of the teachers it
is difficult to estimate accurately; but that they
gain much by the freshness and enthusiasm of these
young minds is unquestionable. Young teachers
get into closer sympathy with pupils, and can more
readily understand the movements of their minds
and apprehend their difficulties.
The plan of teaching for a few years is very
popular among young people, from the general
belief that it furnishes the best possible discipline
for a successful life. This experience in teaching is
considered valuable for young men, but still more
valuable for young women, and many young women
who have no need to earn money teach for a few
years .after leaving school, sometimes from their
own choice, but much oftener from the choice of
their parents, who wish to supplement the daughter’s
education with the more varied discipline that
teaching affords.
�Toung Men and Women.
31
Thus the teaching of women is encouraged from
four considerations :—
First. According to the present arrangement of
wages it is economical.
Second. Women seem to have an especial natural
aptitude for the work as compared with men.
Third. The general welfare of society demands
that wage-giving industries shall be provided for
women.
Fourth. Of all the employments offered to women,
teaching seems the best suited to fit them for
domestic life, the life that lies before the most of
them, and so positive are its claims in this direction
that it is being sought as an employment with that
single end in view.
A few years of teaching forms so prominent a
feature in the education of leading American
women, that I could not omit it in any general
consideration of this subject.
Note.—The Times of' January 3rd, 1874, gives the following
extracts from “Circulars of Information,” just published by the
United States Bureau of Education:—The total number of
degrees conferred in 1873 by the Higher Colleges was 4,493, and
376 honorary. One hundred and ninety-one ladies received
degrees. Illinois has thirteen Colleges, in which women have
the same or equal facilities with men ; Wisconsin has four, Iowa
three, Missouri four, Ohio ten, and Indiana nine; New York has
seven, and Pennsylvania, seven.
PRINTED BY C. W. REYNELL, LITTLE PULTENEY STREET, HAYMARKET.
��
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Victorian Blogging
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The joint education of young men and women in the American schools and colleges : being a lecture delivered before the Sunday Lecture Society, on 27th of April, 1873
Creator
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Beedy, Mary E.
Sunday Lecture Society
Description
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Place of publication: London
Collation: 31 p. ; 18 cm.
Notes: Advertisement for Sunday Lecture Society on p.[2], delivered at St George's Hall, Langham Place. Printed by C.W. Reynell, Haymarket, London. Part of the NSS pamphlet collection.
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Sunday Lecture Society
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1873
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N058
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Education
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English
Coeducation-United States
Education
NSS
Women
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�EDUCATION:
INTELLECTUAL, MORAL, AND PHYSICAL
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1903
��PUBLISHERS’ PREFACE
In the preface to the cheap edition of this work, issued
in 1878, the author says :—•
The growing demand for the original edition of these Chapters
on Education has suggested to me the propriety of issuing an
edition that shall come within easy reach of a larger public.
That the work has had considerable currency in the United
States, and that there have been made translations of it into
the French, German, Italian, Russian, Hungarian, Dutch, and
Danish languages, are facts which have further encouraged me to
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circulation is called for.
No alterations have been made in the text.
In the absence
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Since then the work has been translated into Spanish,
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Arabic, and Bulgarian.
By the consent of Mr. Spencer, the Rationalist
Press Association are now able, by issuing this
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circulation of these essays yet further.
��J
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?
•
9
CHAPTER II.
INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION
-
40
-
69
CHAPTER III.
MORAL EDUCATION
....
CHAPTER IV.
PHYSICAL EDUCATION
92
i
J
1
1
1
�EDUCATION AT ETON, 1842-5
“ Balston, our tutor, was a good scholar after the fashion of the day,
and famous for Latin verse; but he was essentially a commonplace
don. ‘ Stephen major,’ he once said to my brother, 1 if you do not
take more pains, how can you ever expect to write good longs and
shorts ? If you do not write good longs and shorts, how can you
ever be a man of taste? If you are not a man of taste, how can
you ever hope to be of use in the world ?’ ”
( The Life of Sir Tames Fitzjames Stephen, Bart., by his brother, Leslie Stephen,
pp. 80-1.)
�EDUCATION
CHAPTER I.
WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH ?
It has been truly remarked that, in
order of time, decoration precedes dress.
Among people who submit to great physi
cal suffering that they may have themselves
handsomely tattooed, extremes of tempera
ture are borne with but little attempt at
mitigation. Humboldt tells us that an
Orinoco Indian, though quite regardless
of bodily comfort, will yet labour for a
fortnight to purchase pigment wherewith
to make himself admired; and that the
same woman who would not hesitate to
leave her hut without a fragment of
clothing on, would not dare to commit
such a breach of decorum as to go out
unpainted. Voyagers find that coloured
beads and trinkets are much more prized
by wild tribes, than are calicoes or
broadcloths. And the anecdotes we have
of the ways in which, when shirts and
coats are given, savages turn them to
some ludicrous display, show how com
pletely the idea of ornament predominates
over that of use. Nay, there are still
more extreme illustrations : witness the
fact narrated by Capt. Speke of his
African attendants, who strutted about
in their goat-skin mantles when the
weather was fine, but when it was wet,
took them off, folded them up, and went
about naked, shivering in the rain!
Indeed, the facts of aboriginal life seem
to indicate that dress is developed out
of decorations. And when we remember
that even among ourselves most think
more about the fineness of the fabric
than its warmth, and more about the cut
than the convenience—when we see that
the function is still in great measure
subordinated to the appearance — we
have further reason for inferring such an
origin.
It is curious that the like relations
hold with the mind. Among mental
as among bodily acquisitions, the orna
mental comes before the useful. Not
only in times past, but almost as much
in our own era, that knowledge which
conduces to personal well-being has been
postponed to that which brings applause.
In the Greek schools, music, poetry,
rhetoric, and a philosophy which, until
Socrates taught, had but little bearing
upon action, were the dominant subjects ;
while knowledge aiding the arts of life
had a very subordinate place. And in
our own universities and schools at the
present moment, the like antithesis holds.
We are guilty of something like a plati
tude when we say that throughout his
after-career, a boy, in nine cases out of
ten, applies his Latin and Greek to no
practical purposes. The remark is trite
that in his shop, or his office, in managing
- his estate or his family, in playing his
part as director of a bank or a railway,
he is very little aided by this knowledge
he took so many years to acquire—so
�IO
EDUCATION
little, that generally the greater part of it
drops out of his memory; and if he
occasionally vents a Latin quotation, or
alludes to some Greek myth, it is less to
throw light on the topic in hand than
for the sake of effect. If we inquire
what is the real motive for giving boys a
classical education, we find it to be
simply conformity to public opinion.
Men dress their children’s minds as they
do their bodies, in the prevailing fashion.
As the Orinoco Indian puts on paint
before leaving his hut, not with a view
to any direct benefit, but because he
would be ashamed to be seen without
it; so, a boy’s drilling in Latin and
Greek is insisted on, not because of
their intrinsic value, but that he may not
be disgraced by being found ignorant of
them—that he may have “the education
of a gentleman ”—the badge marking a
certain social position, and bringing a
consequent respect.
This parallel is still more clearly
displayed in the case of the other sex.
In the treatment of both mind and body,
the decorative element has continued to
predominate in a greater degree among
women than among men. Originally,
personal adornment occupied the atten
tion of both sexes equally. In these
latter days of civilisation, however, we
see that in the dress of men the regard
for appearance has in a considerable
degree yielded to the regard for comfort;
while in their education the useful has
of late been trenching on the ornamental.
In neither direction has this change
gone so far with women. The wearing
of ear-rings, finger-rings, bracelets; the
elaborate dressings of the hair; the
still occasional use of paint; the
immense labour bestowed in making
habiliments sufficiently attractive; and
the great discomfort that will be sub
mitted to for the sake of conformity;
show how greatly, in the attiring of
women, the desire of approbation over
rides the desire for warmth and con
venience. And similarly in their educa
tion, the immense preponderance of
“ accomplishments ” proves how here,
too, use is subordinated to display.
Dancing, deportment, the piano, singing,
drawing—what a large space do these
occupy 1 If you ask why Italian and
German are learnt, you will find that,
under all the sham reasons given, the
real reason is, that a knowledge of those
tongues is thought ladylike. It is not
that the books written in them may be
utilised, which they scarcely ever are ;
but that Italian and German songs may
be sung, and that the extent of attainment
may bring whispered admiration. The
births, deaths, and marriages of kings,
and other like historic trivialities, are
committed to memory, not because of
any direct benefits that can possibly
result from knowing them ; but because
society considers them parts of a good
education—because the absence of such
knowledge may bring the contempt of
others. When we have named reading,
writing, spelling, grammar, arithmetic,
and sewing, we have named about all
the things a girl is taught with a view
to their actual uses in life; and even
some of these have more reference to
the good opinion of others than to
immediate personal welfare.
Thoroughly to realise the truth that
with the mind as with the body the
ornamental precedes the useful, it is
requisite to glance at its rationale. This
lies in the fact that, from the far past
down even to the present, social needs
have subordinated individual needs,
and that the chief social need has been
the control of individuals. It is not, as
we commonly suppose, that there are no
governments but those of monarchs, and
�WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?
parliaments, and constituted authorities.
These acknowledged governments are
supplemented by other unacknowledged
ones, that grow up in all circles, in which
every man or woman strives to be king
or queen or lesser dignitary. To get
above some and be reverenced by them,
and to propitiate those who are above
us, is the universal struggle in which the
chief energies of life are expended. By
the accumulation of wealth, by style of
living, by beauty of dress, by display of
knowledge of intellect, each tries to
subjugate others; and so aids in weaving
that ramified network of restraints by
which society is kept in order. It is not
the savage chief only, who, in formidable
war-paint, with scalps at his belt, aims
to strike awe into his inferiors; it is not
only the belle who, by elaborate toilet,
polished manners, and numerous accom
plishments, strives to “make conquests ”;
but the scholar, the historian, the philo
sopher, use their acquirements to the
same end. We are none of us content
with quietly unfolding our own indivi
dualities to the full in all directions; but
have a restless craving to impress our
individualities upon others, and in some
way subordinate them. And this it is
which determines the character of our
education. Not what knowledge is of
most real worth, is the consideration;
but what will bring most applause,
honour, respect—what will most conduce
to social position and influence—what
will be most imposing. As, throughout
life, not what we are, but what we shall
be thought, is the question; so in
education, the question is, not the
intrinsic value of knowledge, so much
as its extrinsic effects on others. And
this being our dominant idea, direct
utility is scarcely more regarded than by
the barbarian when filing his teeth and
staining his nails.
ii
If there requires further evidence of
the rude, undeveloped character of
our education, we have it in the fact
that the comparative worths of different
kinds of knowledge have been as yet
scarcely even discussed — much less
discussed in a methodic way with
definite results. Not only is it that no
standard of relative values has yet been
agreed upon; but the existence of any
such standard has not been conceived in
a clear manner. And not only is it
that the existence of such a standard
has not been clearly conceived : but the
need for it seems to have been scarcely
even felt. Men read books on this topic,
and attend lectures on that; decide that
their children shall be instructed in
these branches of knowledge, and shall
not be instructed in those; and all under
the guidance of mere custom, or liking,
or prejudice; without ever considering
the enormous importance of determining
in some rational way what things are
really most worth learning. It is true
that in all circles we hear occasional
remarks on the importance of this or the
other order of information. But whether
the degree of its importance justifies
the expenditure of the time needed to
acquire it; and whether there are not
things of more importance to which
such time might be better devoted; are
queries which, if raised at all, are dis
posed of quite summarily, according to
personal predilections. It is true also,
that now and then, we hear revived the
standing controversy respecting the com
parative merits of classics and mathe
matics. This controversy, however, is
carried on in an empirical manner, with
no reference to an ascertained criterion;
and the question at issue is insignificant
when compared with the general question
of which it is part. To suppose that
�12
EDUCATION
deciding whether a mathematical or a
classical education is the best, is deciding
what is the proper curriculum, is much the
same thing as to suppose that the whole
of dietetics lies in ascertaining whether or
not bread is more nutritive than potatoes!
The question which we contend is of
such transcendent moment, is, not
whether such or such knowledge is of
worth, but what is its relative worth?
When they have named certain advan
tages which a given course of study has
secured them, persons are apt to assume
that they have justified themselves :
quite forgetting that the adequateness
of the advantages is the point to be
judged. There is, perhaps, not a subject
to which men devote attention that has
not some value. A year diligently spent
in getting up heraldry, would very
possibly give a little further insight into
ancient manners and morals. Any one
who should learn the distances between
all the towns in England, might, in the
course of his life, find one or two of the
thousand facts he had acquired of some
slight service when arranging a journey.
Gathering together all the small gossip
of a county, profitless occupation as it
would be, might yet occasionally help to
establish some useful fact—say, a good
example of hereditary transmission. But
in these cases, every one would admit
that there was no proportion between
the required labour and the probable
benefit.
No one would tolerate the
proposal to devote some years of a boy’s
time to getting such information, at the
cost of much more valuable information
which he might else have got. And if
here the test of relative value is appealed
to and held conclusive, then should it be
appealed to and held conclusive through
out. Had we time to master all subjects
we need not be particular. To quote
the old song
Could a man be secure
That his days would endure
As of old, for a thousand long years,
What things might he know !
What deeds might he do !
And all without hurry or care.
“But we that have but span-long lives”
must ever bear in mind our limited time
for acquisition. And remembering how
narrowly this time is limited, not only
by the shortness of life, but also still
more by the business of life, we ought
to be especially solicitous to employ what
time we have to the greatest advantage.
Before devoting years to some subject
which fashion or fancy suggests, it is
surely wise to weigh with great care the
worth of the results, as compared with
the worth of various alternative results
which the same years might bring if
otherwise applied.
In education, then, this is the question
of questions, which it is high time we
discussed in some methodic way. The
first in importance, though the last to be
considered, is the problem—how to
decide among the conflicting claims of
various subjects on our attention. Before
there can be a rational curriculum, we
must settle which things it most concerns
us to know; or, to use a word of Bacon’s,
now unfortunately obsolete—we must
determine the relative values of know
ledges.
To this end, a measure of value is the
first requisite. And happily, respecting
the true measure of value, as expressed
in general terms, there can be no dispute.
Everyone, in contending for the worth of
any particular order of information, does
so by showing its bearing upon some part
of life. In reply to the question—“ Of
what use is it ?” the mathematician,
linguist, naturalist, or philosopher, ex
plains the way in which his learning
beneficially influences action—saves from
�WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?
evil or secures good—conduces to happi
ness. When the teacher of writing has
pointed out how great an aid writing is
to success in business—that is, to the
obtainment of sustenance—that is, to
satisfactory living; he is held to have
proved his case. And when the collector
of dead facts (say a numismatist) fails to
make clear any appreciable effects which
these facts can produce on human
welfare, he is obliged to admit that they
are comparatively valueless. All then,
either directly or by implication, appeal
to this as the ultimate test.
How to live ?—that is the essential
question for us. Not how to live in the
mere material sense only, but in the
widest sense. The general problem
which comprehends every special problem
is—the right ruling of conduct in all
directions under all circumstances. In
what way to treat the body; in what
way to treat the mind; in what way to
manage our affairs ; in what way to bring
up a family; in what way to behave as
a citizen; in what way to utilise those
sources of happiness which nature
supplies—how to use all our faculties
to the greatest advantage of ourselves
and others—how to live completely ?
And this being the great thing needful
for us to learn, is, by consequence, the
great thing which education has to teach.
To prepare us for complete living is the
function which education has to dis
charge ; and the only rational mode of
judging of an educational course is, to
judge in what degree it discharges such
function.
• This test, never used in its entirety,
but rarely even partially used, and used
then in a vague, half conscious way, has
to be applied consciously, methodically,
and throughout all cases. It behoves us
to set before ourselves, and ever to keep
clearly in view, complete living as the
13
end to be achieved; so that in bringing
up our children we may choose subjects
and methods of instruction, with deli
berate reference to this end. Not only
ought we to cease from the mere unthink
ing adoption of the current fashion in
education, which has no better warrant
than any other fashion; but we must
also rise above that rude, empirical style
of judging displayed by those more intel
ligent people who do bestow some care
in overseeing the cultivation of their
children’s minds. It must not suffice
simply to think that such or such infor
mation will be useful in after life, or that
this kind of knowledge is of more prac
tical value than that; but we must seek
out some process of estimating their
respective values, so that as far as possible
we may positively know which are most
deserving of attention.
Doubtless the task is difficult—perhaps
never to be more than approximately
achieved. But, considering the vastness
of the interests at stake, its difficulty is
no reason for pusillanimously passing it
by; but rather for devoting every energy
to its mastery. And if we only proceed
systematically, we may very soon get at
results of no small moment.
Our first step must obviously be to
classify, in the order of their importance,
the leading kinds of activity which con
stitute human life. They may be naturally
arranged into :—1. those activities which
directly minister to self-preservation; 2.
those activities which, by securing the
necessaries of life, indirectly minister to
self-preservation; 3. those activities which
have for their end the rearing and dis
cipline of offspring; 4. those activities
which are involved in the maintenance
of proper social and political relations;
5. those miscellaneous activities which
fill up the leisure part of life, devoted to
the gratification of the tastes and feelings.
�14
EDUCATION
That these stand in something like
their true order of subordination, it needs
no long consideration to show. The
actions and precautions by which, from
moment to moment, we secure personal
safety, must clearly take precedence of all
others. Could there be a man, ignorant
as an infant of surrounding objects and
movements, or how to guide himself
among them, he would pretty certainly
lose his life the first time he went into
the street; notwithstanding any amount
of learning he might have on other
matters. And as entire ignorance in all
other directions would be less promptly
fatal than entire ignorance in this direc
tion, it must be admitted that knowledge
immediately conducive to self-preserva
tion is of primary importance.
That next after direct self-preservation
comes the indirect self-preservation which
consists in acquiring the means of living,
none will question. That a man’s indus
trial functions must be considered before
his parental ones, is manifest from the
fact that, speaking generally, the dis
charge of the parental functions is made
possible only by the previous discharge
of the industrial ones. The power of
self-maintenance necessarily preceding
the power of maintaining offspring, it
follows that knowledge needful for self
maintenance has stronger claims than
knowledge needful for family welfare—
is second in value to none save know
ledge needful for immediate self-preser
vation.
As the family comes before the State
in order of time—as the bringing up of
children is possible before the State
exists, or when it has ceased to be,
whereas the State is rendered possible
only by the bringing up of children; it
follows that the duties of the parent
demanti closer attention than those of
the citizen. Or, to use a further argu
ment—since the goodness of a society
ultimately depends on the nature of its
citizens; and since the nature of its
citizens is more modifiable by early train
ing than by anything else; we must
conclude that the welfare of the family
underlies the welfare of society. And
hence knowledge directly conducing to
the first, must take precedence of know
ledge directly conducing to the last.
Those various forms of pleasurable
occupation which fill up the leisure left
by graver occupations—the enjoyments
of music, poetry, painting, etc.—mani
festly imply a pre-existing society. Not
only is a considerable development of
them impossible without a long-estab
lished social union; but their very sub
ject-matter consists in great part of social
sentiments and sympathies. Not only
does society supply the conditions to
their growth; but also the ideas and
sentiments they express. And, conse
quently, that part of human conduct
which constitutes good citizenship, is of
more moment than that which goes out
in accomplishments or exercise of the
tastes; and, in education, preparation
for the one must rank before preparation
for the other.
Such then, we repeat, is something
like the rational order of subordination:—
That education which prepares for direct
self-preservation; that which prepares for
indirect self-preservation; that which
prepares for parenthood; that which pre
pares for citizenship ; that which prepares
for the miscellaneous refinements of life.
We do not mean to say that these
divisions are definitely separable. We
do not deny that they are intricately
entangled with each other, in such way
that there can be no training for any that
is not in some measure a training for all.
Nor do we question that of each division
there are portions more important than
�WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?
certain portions of the preceding divi
sions : that, for instance, a man of much
skill in business but little other faculty,
may fall further below the standard of
complete living than one of but moderate
ability in money-getting but great judg
ment as a parent; or that exhaustive
information bearing on right social
action, joined with entire want of general
culture in literature and the fine arts, is
less desirable than a more moderate
share of the one joined with some of the
other. But, after making due qualifica
tions, there still remain these broadlymarked divisions; and it still continues
substantially true that these divisions
subordinate one another in the foregoing
order, because the corresponding divi
sions of life make one another possible in
that order.
Of course the ideal of education is—
complete preparation in all these divi
sions. But failing this ideal, as in our
phase of civilisation every one must do
more or less, the aim should be to main
tain a due proportion between the degrees
of preparation in each. Not exhaustive
cultivation in any one, supremely impor
tant though it may be—not even an ex
clusive attention to the two, three, or
four divisions of greatest importance;
but an attention to all;—greatest where
the value is greatest; less where the
value is less; least where the value is
least.
For the average man (not to
forget the cases in which peculiar apti
tude for some one department of know
ledge, rightly makes pursuit of that one
the bread-winning occupation)—for the
average man, we say, the desideratum is,
a training that approaches nearest to
perfection in the things which most sub
serve complete living, and falls more and
more below perfection in the things that
have more and more remote bearings on
complete living.
15
In regulating education by this stan
dard, there are some general considera
tions that should be ever present to us.
The worth of any kind of culture, as
aiding complete living, may be ‘either
necessary or more or less contingent.
There is knowledge of intrinsic value;
knowledge of quasi-intrinsic value ; and
knowledge of conventional value. Such
facts as that sensations of numbness and
tingling commonly precede paralysis,
that the resistance of water to a body
moving through it varies as the square of
the velocity, that chlorine is a disinfec
tant—these, and the truths of Science in
general, are of intrinsic value; they will
bear on human conduct ten thousand
years hence as they do now. The extra
knowledge of our own language, which
is given by an acquaintance with Latin
and Greek, may be considered to have a
value that is quasi-intrinsic: it must exist
for us and for other races whose lan
guages owe much to these sources; but
will last only as long as our languages
last. While that kind of information
which, in our schools, usurps the name
History—the mere tissue ci names and
dates and dead unmeaning events—has
a conventional value only : it has not
the remotest bearing on any of our
actions; and is of use only for the avoid
ance of those unpleasant criticisms
which current opinion passes upon its
absence. Of course, as those facts which
concern all mankind throughout all time
must be held of greater moment than
those which concern only a portion of
them during a limited era, and of far
greater moment than those which con
cern only a portion of them during the
continuance of a fashion; it follows that in
a rational estimate, knowledge of intrinsic
worth must, other things equal, take pre
cedence of knowledge, that is of quasiintrinsic or conventional worth.
�i6
EDUCATION
One further preliminary. Acquirement
of every kind has two values—value as
knowledge and value as discipline. Besides
its use for guiding conduct, the acqui
sition of each order of facts has also its
use as mental exercise; and its effects as
a preparative for complete living have to
be considered under both these heads.
These, then, are the general ideas with
which we must set out in discussing a
curriculum:—Life as divided into several
kinds of activity of successively decreas
ing importance; the worth of each order
of facts as regulating these several kinds
of activity, intrinsically, quasi-intrinsically,
and conventionally ; and their regulative
influences estimated both as knowledge
and discipline.
these, and various other pieces of infor
mation needful for the avoidance of
death or accident, it is ever learning.
And when, a few years later, the energies
go out in running, climbing, and jump
ing, in games of strength and games of
skill, we see in all these actions by which
the muscles are developed, the percep
tions sharpened, and the judgment
quickened, a preparation for the safe
conduct of the body among surrounding
objects and movements; and for meeting
those greater dangers that occasionally
occur in the lives of all. Being thus,
as we say, so well cared for by Nature,
this fundamental education needs com
paratively little care from us. What we are
chiefly called upon to see, is, that there
shall be free scope for gaining this
Happily, that all-important part of experience and receiving this discipline
education "which goes to secure direct —that there shall be no such thwarting
self-preservation, is in great part already of Nature as that by which stupid school
provided for. Too momentous to be left mistresses commonly prevent the girls in
to our blundering, Nature takes it into their charge from the spontaneous physi
her own hands. While yet in its nurse’s cal activities they would indulge in; and
arms, the infant, by hiding its face and so render them comparatively incapable
crying at the sight of a stranger, shows of taking care of themselves in circum
the dawning instinct to attain safety by stances of peril.
flying from that which is unknown and
This, however, is by no means all that
may be dangerous; and when it can is comprehended in the education that
walk, the terror it manifests if an un prepares for direct self-preservation.
familiar dog comes near, or the screams Besides guarding the body against
with which it runs to its mother, after mechanical damage or destruction, it
any startling sight or sound, shows this has to be guarded against injury from
instinct further developed. Moreover,
other causes—against the disease and
knowledge subserving direct self-preser death that follow breaches of physiologic
vation is that which it is chiefly busied law. For complete living it is necessary,
in acquiring from hour to hour. How not only that sudden annihilations of
to balance its body; how to control its life shall be warded off; but also that
movements so as to avoid collisions : there shall be escaped the incapacities
what objects are hard, and will hurt if and the slow annihilation which unwise
struck; what objects are heavy, and in habits entail. As, without health and
jure if they fall on the limbs; which energy, the industrial, the parental, the
things will bear the weight of the body,
social, and all other activities become
and which not; the pains inflicted by more or less impossible ; it is clear
fire, by missiles, by sharp instruments— that this secondary kind of direct self
�WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?
preservation is only less important than
the primary kind; and that knowledge
tending to secure it should rank very
high.
It is true that here, too, guidance is
in some measure ready supplied. By
our various physical sensations and
desires, Nature has insured a tolerable
conformity to the chief requirements.
Fortunately for us, want of food, great
heat, extreme cold, produce promptings
too peremptory to be disregarded. And
would men habitually obey these and all
like promptings when less strong, com
paratively few evils would arise. If
fatigue of body or brain were in every
case followed by desistance; if the
oppression produced by a close atmos
phere always led to ventilation ; if there
were no eating without hunger, or drink
ing without thirst; then would the
system be but seldom out of working
order. But so profound an ignorance is
there of the laws of life, that men do not
even know that their sensations are their
natural guides, and (when not rendered
morbid by long-continued disobedience)
their trustworthy guides. So that though,
to speak teleologically, Nature has pro
vided efficient safeguards to health, lack
of knowledge makes them in a great
measure useless.
If any one doubts the importance of
an acquaintance with the principles of
physiology,as a means to complete living,
let him look around and see how many
men and women he can find in middle
or later life who are thoroughly well.
Only occasionally do we meet with an
example of vigorous health continued
to old age; hourly we meet with
examples of acute disorder, chronic
ailment, general debility, premature
‘decrepitude. Scarcely is there one to
whom you put the question, who has
not, in the course of his life, brought
17
upon himself illnesses which a little in
formation would have saved him from.
Here is a case of heart-disease consequent
on a rheumatic fever that followed reck
less exposure. There is a case of eyes
spoiled for life by over-study. Yesterday
the account was of one whose longenduring lameness was brought on by
continuing, spite of the pain, to use a
knee after it had been slightly injured.
And to-day we are told of another who
has had to lie by for years, because he
did not know that the palpitation he
suffered under resulted from overtaxed
brain. Now we hear of an irremediable
injury which followed some silly feat of
strength; and, again, of a constitution
that has never recovered from the effects
of excessive work needlessly undertaken.
While on every side we see the perpetual
minor ailments which accompany feeble
ness. Not to dwell on the pain, the
weariness, the gloom, the waste of time
and money thus entailed, only consider
how greatly ill-health hinders the dis
charge of all duties—makes business
often impossible, and always more diffi
cult ; produces an irritability fatal to the
right management of children; puts the
functions of citizenship out of the
question; and makes amusement a bore.
Is it not clear that the physical sins—
partly our forefathers’ and partly our own
—which produce this ill-health, deduct
more from complete living than anything
else ? and to a great extent make life a
failure and a burden instead of a bene
faction and a pleasure ?
Nor is this all. Life, besides being
thus immensely deteriorated, is also cut
short. It is not true, as we commonly
suppose, that after a disorder or disease
from which we have recovered, we are
as before. No disturbance of the normal
course of the functions can pass away
and leave things exactly as they were.
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EDUCATION
A permanent damage is done—not
immediately appreciable, it may be, but
still there; and along with other such
items which Nature in her strict account
keeping never drops, it will tell against
us to the inevitable shortening of our
days.
Through the accumulation of
small injuries it is that constitutions are
commonly undermined, and break down,
long before their time. And if we call
to mind how far the average .duration of
life falls below the possible duration, we
see how immense is the loss. When,
to the numerous partial deductions which
bad health entails, we add this great
final deduction, it results that ordinarily
one-half of life is thrown away.
Hence, knowledge which subserves
direct self-preservation by preventing
this loss of health, is of primary import
ance. We do not contend that possession
of such knowledge would by any means
wholly remedy the evil. It is clear that
in our present phase of civilisation, men’s
necessities often compel them to trans
gress. And it is further clear that, even
in the absence of such compulsion, their
inclinations would frequently lead them,
spite of their convictions, to sacrifice
future good to present gratification. But
we do contend that the right knowledge
impressed in the right way would effect
much ; and we further contend that as
the laws of health must be recognised
before they can be fully conformed to,
the imparting of such knowledge must
precede a more rational living—come
when that may. We infer that as vigorous
health and its accompanying high spirits
are larger elements of happiness than any
other things whatever, the teaching how to
maintain them is a teaching that yields
in moment to no other whatever. And
therefore we assert that such a course of
physiology as is needful for the compre
hension of its general truths, and their
bearings on daily conduct, is an all
essential part of a rational education.
Strange that the assertion should need
making! Stranger still that it should
need defending! Yet are there not a
few by whom such a proposition will be
received with something approaching to
derision.
Men who would blush if
caught saying Iphigenia instead of
Iphigenia, or would resent as an insult
any imputation of ignorance respecting
the fabled labours of a fabled demi-god,
show not the slightest shame in confess
ing that they do not know where the
Eustachian tubes are, what are the
actions of the spinal cord, what is
the normal rate of pulsation, or how the
lungs are inflated. While anxious that
their sons should be well up in the
superstitions of two thousand years ago,
they care not that they should be taught
anything about the structure and func
tions of their own bodies—nay, even wish
them not to be so taught. So overwhelm
ing is the influence of established routine !
So terribly in our education does the
ornamental over-ride the useful 1
We need not insist on the value of
that knowledge which aids indirect self
preservation by facilitating the gaining
of a livelihood. This is admitted by all;
and, indeed, by the mass is perhaps too
exclusively regarded as the end of
education. But while every one is ready
to endorse the abstract proposition that
instruction fitting youths for the bus'ness
of life is of high importance, or even
to consider it of supreme importance;
yet scarcely any inquire what instruction
will so fit them. It is true that reading,
writing, and arithmetic are taught with
an intelligent appreciation of their uses.
But when we have said this we have said
nearly all. While the great bulk of what
else is acquired has no bearing on the
industrial activities, an immensity of
�WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OE MOST WORTH?
information that has a direct bearing on
the industrial activities is entirely passed
over.
For, leaving out only some very small
classes, what are all men employed in ?
They are employed in the production,
preparation and distribution of com
modities. And on what does efficiency
in the production, preparation, and dis
tribution of commodities depend ? It
depends on the use of methods fitted to
the respective natures of these com
modities ; it depends on an adequate
acquaintance with their physical, chemi
cal, and vital properties, as the case may
be ; that is, it depends on Science. This
order of knowledge which is in great
part ignored in our school-courses, is the
order of knowledge underlying the right
performance of those processes by which
civilised life is made possible. Undeni
able as is this truth, there seems to be
no living consciousness of it: its very
familiarity makes it unregarded. To
give due weight to our argument, we
must, therefore, realise this truth to the
reader by a rapid review of the facts.
Passing over the most abstract science,
Logic, on the due guidance by which,
however, the large producer or distributor
depends, knowingly or unknowingly, for
success in his business-forecasts, we come
first to Mathematics. Of this, the most
general division, dealing with number,
guides all industrial activities : be they
those by which processes are adjusted,
or estimates framed, or commodities
bought and sold, or accounts kept. No
one needs to have the value of this
division of abstract science insisted upon.
For the higher arts of construction,
some acquaintance with the more special
division of Mathematics is indispensable.
The village carpenter, who lays out his
work by empirical rules, equally with the
builder of a Britannia Bridge, makes
I?
hourly reference to the laws of space
relations. The surveyor who measures
the land purchased; the architect in
designing a mansion to be built on it;
the builder when laying out the founda
tions ; the masons in cutting the stones ;
and the various artizans who put up the
fittings ; are all guided by geometrical
truths. Railway-making is regulated from
beginning to end by geometry ; alike in
the preparation of plans and sections ; in
staking out the line ; in the mensuration
of cuttings and embankments ; in the
designing and building of bridges,
culverts, viaducts, tunnels, stations.
Similarly with the harbours, docks,
piers, and various engineering and
architectural works that fringe the coasts
and overspread the country, as -well as
the mines that run underneath it. And
now-a-days, even the farmer, for the
correct laying-out of his drains, has
recourse to the level—that is, to
geometrical principles.
Turn next to the Abstract-Concrete
sciences. On the application of the
simplest of these, Mechanics, depends
the success of modem manufactures.
The properties of the lever, the wheeland-axle, etc., are recognised in every
machine, and to machinery in these
times we owe all production. Trace the
history of the breakfast-roll. The soil
out of which it came was drained with
machine-made tiles; the surface was
turned over by a machine ; the wheat
was reaped, thrashed, and winnowed by
machines ; by machinery it was ground
and bolted ; and had the flour been sent
to Gosport, it might have been made
into biscuits by a machine. Look round
the room in which you sit. If modern,
probably the bricks in its walls were
machine-made ; and by machinery the
flooring was sawn and planed, the
mantel-shelf sawn and polished, the
�2Cf
EDUCATION
paper-hangings made and printed. The
veneer on the table, the turned legs of
the chairs, the carpet, the curtains, are
all products of machinery. Your clothing
—plain, figured, or printed—is it not
wholly woven, nay, perhaps even sewed,
by machinery ? And the volume you
are reading—are not its leaves fabricated
by one machine and covered with these
words by another ? Add to which that
for the means of distribution over both
land and sea, we are similarly indebted.
And then observe that according as
knowledge of mechanics is well or ill
applied to these ends, comes success or
failure. The engineer who miscalculates
the strength of materials, builds a bridge
that breaks down. The manufacturer
who uses a bad machine cannot compete
with another whose machine wastes less
in friction and inertia. The ship-builder
adhering to the old model, is outsailed
by one who builds on the mechanicallyjustified wave-line principle. And as the
ability of a nation to hold its own against
other nations, depends on the skilled
activity of its units, we see that on
mechanical knowledge may turn the
national fate.
On ascending from the divisions of
Abstract-Concrete science dealing with
molar forces, to those divisions of it
which deal with molecular forces, we
come to another vast series of applica
tions. To this group of sciences joined
with the preceding groups we owe the
steam-engine, which does the work
of millions of labourers. That section
of physics which formulates the laws of
heat, has taught us how to economise
fuel in various industries : how to increase
the produce of smelting furnaces by
substituting the hot for the cold blast ;
how to ventilate mines ; how to prevent
explosions by using the safety-lamp ; and,
through the thermometer, how to regulate
innumerable processes. That section
which has the phenomena of light for its
subject, gives eyes to the old and the
myopic; aids through the microscope in
detecting diseases and adulterations;
and, by improved lighthouses, prevents
shipwrecks. Researches in electricity
and magnetism have saved innumerable
lives and incalculable property through
the compass ; have subserved many arts
by the electrotype; and now, in the
telegraph, have supplied us with an
agency by which, for the future, mercan
tile transactions will be regulated and
political intercourse carried on. While
in the details of indoor life, from the
improved kitchen-range up to the stereo
scope on the drawing-room table, the
applications of advanced physics under
lie our comforts and gratifications.
Still more numerous are the applica
tions of Chemistry. The bleacher, the
dyer, the calico-printer, are severally
occupied in processes that are well or ill
done according as they do or do not
conform to chemical laws. Smelting of
copper, tin, zinc, lead, silver, iron, must
be guided by chemistry. Sugar-refining,
gas-making, soap-boiling, gunpowder
manufacture, are operations all partly
chemical, as are likewise those which
produce glass and porcelain. Whether
the distiller’s wort stops at the alcoholic
fermentation or passes into the acetous,
is a chemical question on which hangs
his profit or loss; and the brewer, if his
business is extensive, finds it pay to keep
a chemist on his premises. Indeed, there
is now scarcely any manufacture over
some part of which chemistry does not
preside. Nay, in these times even agri
culture, to be profitably carried on, must
have like guidance. The analysis of
manures and soils; the disclosure of
their respective adaptations; the use of
gypsum or other substances for fixing
�WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?
ammonia; the utilisation of coprolites;
the production of artificial manures—all
these are boons of chemistry which it
behoves the farmer to acquaint himself
with. Be it in the lucifer match, or in
disinfected sewage, or in photographs—
in bread made without fermentation, or
perfumes extracted from refuse, we may
perceive that chemistry affects all our
industries; and that, therefore, knowledge
of it concerns every one who is directly or
indirectly connected with our industries.
Of the Concrete sciences, we come first
to Astronomy. Out of this has grown
that art of navigation which has made
possible the enormous foreign commerce
that supports a large part of our popula
tion, while supplying us with many neces
saries and most of our luxuries.
Geology, again, is a science knowledge
of which greatly aids industrial success.
Now that iron ores are so large a source
of wealth ; now that the duration of our
coal-supply has become a question of
great interest; now that we have a College
of Mines and a Geological Survey , it is
scarcely needful to enlarge on the truth
that the study of the Earth’s crust is
important to our material welfare.
And then the science of life—Biology:
does not this, too, bear fundamentally on
these processes of indirect self-preserva
tion ? With what we ordinarily call
manufactures, it has, indeed, little con
nection ; but with the all-essential manu
facture—that of food—it is inseparably
connected. As agriculture must conform
its methods to the phenomena of vegetal
and animal life, it follows that the science
of these phenomena is the rational basis
of agriculture. Various biological truths
have indeed been empirically established
and acted upon by farmers, while yet
there has been no conception of them as
science; such as that particular manures
are suited to particular plants; that crops
21
of certain kinds unfit the soil for other
crops ; that horses cannot do good work
on poor food ; that such and such diseases
of cattle and sheep are caused by such
and such conditions. These, and the
every-day knowledge which the agri
culturist gains by experience respecting
the management of plants and animals,
constitute his stock of biological facts ;
on the largeness of which greatly depends
his success. And as these biological
facts, scanty, indefinite, rudimentary,
though they are, aid him so essentially ;
judge what must be the value to him of
such facts when they become positive,
definite, and exhaustive. Indeed, even
now we may see the benefits that rational
biology is conferring on him. The truth
that the production of animal heat implies
waste of substance, and that, therefore,
preventing loss of heat prevents the need
for extra food—a purely theoretical con
clusion—now guides the fattening of
cattle : it is found that by keeping cattle
warm, fodder is saved. Similarly with
respect to variety of food. The experi
ments of physiologists have shown that
not only is change of diet beneficial, but
that digestion is facilitated by a mixture
of ingredients in each meal. The dis
covery that a disorder known as “ the
staggers,” of which many thousands of
sheep have died annually, is caused by
an entozoon which presses on the brain,
and that if the creature is extracted
through the softened place in the skull
which marks its position, the sheep
usually recovers, is another debt which
agriculture owes to biology.
Yet one more science have we to note
as bearing directly on industrial success
—the Science of Society. Men who
daily look at the state of the moneymarket ; glance over prices current ; dis
cuss the probable crops of corn, cotton,
sugar, wool, silk ; weigh the chances of
�22
EDUCATION
war; and from these data decide on
their mercantile operations; are students
of social science ; empirical and blunder
ing students it may be; but still, students
who gain the prizes or are plucked of
their profits, according as they do or do
not reach the right conclusion. Not only
the manufacturer and the merchant must
guide their transactions by calculations
of supply and demand, based on numerous
facts, and tacitly recognising sundry
general principles of social action ; but
even the retailer must do the like; his
prosperity very greatly depending upon
the correctness of his judgments respect
ing the future wholesale prices and the
future rates of consumption. Manifestly,
whoever takes part in the entangled
commercial activities of a community, is
vitally interested in understanding the
laws according to which those activities
vary.
Thus, to all such as are occupied in
the production, exchange, or distribution
of commodities, acquaintance with
Science in some of its departments, is of
fundamental importance.
Each man
who is immediately or remotely impli
cated in any form of industry, (and few
are not,) has in some way to deal with
the mathematical, physical, and chemical
properties of things; perhaps, also, has
a direct interest in biology ; and certainly
has in sociology. Whether he does or
does not succeed well in that indirect
self-preservation which we call getting a
good livelihood, depends in a great
degree on his knowledge of one or more
of these sciences: not, it may be, a
rational knowledge; but still a know
ledge, though empirical. For what we
call learning a business, really implies
learning the science involved in it;
though not perhaps under the name of
science. And hence a grounding in
science is of great importance, both
because it prepares for all this, and
because rational knowledge has an im
mense superiority over empirical know
ledge. Moreover, not only is scientific
culture requisite for each, that he may
understand the how and the why of the
things and processes with which he is
concerned as maker or distributor; but
it is often of much moment that he
should understand the how and the why
of various other things and processes.
In this age of joint-stock undertakings,
nearly every man above the labourer is
interested as capitalist in some other
occupation than his own ; and, as thus
interested, his profit or loss depends on
his knowledge of the sciences bearing on
this other occupation. Here is a mine,
in the sinking of which many shareholders
ruined themselves, from not knowing that
a certain fossil belonged to the old red
sand stone, below which no coal is found.
Numerous attempts have been made to
construct perpetual-motion engines in the
hope of superseding steam ; but had
those who supplied the money, under
stood the general law of the conservation
and equivalence of forces, they might
have had better balances at their bankers.
Daily are men induced to aid in carrying
Out inventions which a mere tyro in
science could show to be futile. Scarcely
a locality but has its history of fortunes
thrown away over some impossible pro
ject.
And if already the loss from want of
science is so frequent and so great, still
greater and more frequent will it be to
those who hereafter lack science. Just
as fast as productive processes become
more scientific, which competition will
inevitably make them do; and just as
fast as joint-stock undertakings spread,
which they certainly will; so fast must
scientific knowledge grow necessary to
every one. That which our school-courses
�WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?
leave almost entirely out, we thus find to
be that which most nearly concerns the
business of life. Our industries would
cease, were it not for the information which
men begin to acquire, as they best may,
after their education is said to be
finished. And were it not for the infor
mation, from age to age accumulated
and spread by unofficial means, these
industries would never have existed.
Had there been no teaching but such as
goes on in our public schools, England
would now be what it was in feudal
times.
That increasing acquaintance
with the laws of phenomena, which has
through successive ages enabled us to
subjugate Nature to our needs, and in
these days gives the common labourer
comforts which a few centuries ago kings
could not purchase, is scarcely in any
degree owed to the appointed means of
instructing our youth. The vital know
ledge—that by which we have grown as
a nation to what we are, and which now
underlies our whole existence, is a know
ledge that has got itself taught in nooks
and corners; while the ordained agencies
for teaching have been mumbling little
else but dead formulas.
We come now to the third great divi
sion of human activities—a division for
which no preparation whatever is made.
If by some strange chance not a vestige
of us descended to the remote future
save a pile of our school-books or some
college examination-papers, we may
imagine how puzzled an antiquary of the
period would be on finding in them no
sign that the learners were ever likely
to be parents. “ This must have been
the curriculum for their celibates,” we
may fancy him concluding. “ I perceive
here an elaborate preparation for many
things; especially for reading the books
of extinct nations and of co-existing
23
nations (from which indeed it seems
clear that these people had very little
worth reading in their own tongue); but
I find no reference whatever to the
bringing up of children. They could
not have been so absurd as to omit all
training for this gravest of responsibilities.
Evidently then, this was the school
course of one of their monastic orders.”
Seriously, is it not an astonishing fact,
that though on the treatment of offspring
depend their lives or deaths, and their
moral welfare or ruin ; yet not one word
of instruction on the treatment of off
spring is ever given to those who will by
and by be parents ? Is it not monstrous
that the fate of a new generation should
be left to the chances of unreasoning
custom, impulse, fancy—joined with the
suggestions of ignorant nurses and the
prejudiced counsel of grandmothers ?
If a merchant commenced business with
out any knowledge of arithmetic and
book-keeping, we should exclaim at his
folly, and look for disastrous conse
quences. Or if, before studying anatomy,
a man set up as a surgical operator, we
should wonder at his audacity and pity
his patients. But that parents should
begin the difficult task of rearing children
without ever having given a thought to
the principles—physical, moral, or in
tellectual—which ought to guide them,
excites neither surprise at the actors nor
pity for their victims.
To tens of thousands that are killed,
add hundreds of thousands that survive
with feeble constitutions, and millions
that grow up with constitutions not so
strong as they should be; and you will
have some idea of the curse inflicted on
their offspring by parents ignorant of the
laws of life. Do but consider for a
moment that the regimen to which
children are subject, is hourly telling
upon them to their life-long injury or
�24
EDUCATION
benefit; and that there are twenty ways
of going wrong to one way of going
right; and you will get some idea of the
enormous mischief that is almost every
where inflicted by the thoughtless, hap
hazard system in common use. Is it
decided that a boy shall be clothed in
some flimsy short dress, and be allowed
to go playing about with limbs reddened
by cold ? The decision will tell on his
whole future existence—either in ill
nesses ; or in stunted growth; or in
deficient energy; or in a maturity less
vigorous than it ought to have been,
and in consequent hindrances to success
and happiness. Are children doomed
to a monotonous dietary, or a dietary
that is deficient in nutritiveness ?
Their ultimate physical power and their
efficiency as men and women, will in
evitably be more or less diminished by
it. Are they forbidden vociferous play,
or (being too ill-clothed to bear exposure)
are they kept in-doors in cold weather ?
They are certain to fall below that
measure of health and strength to which
they would else have attained. When
sons and daughters grow up sickly and
feeble, parents commonly regard the
event as a misfortune—as a visitation of
Providence. Thinking after the prevalent
chaotic fashion, they assume that these
evils come without causes; or that the
causes are supernatural. Nothing of the
kind. In some cases the causes are
doubtless inherited; but in most cases
foolish regulations are the causes. Very
generally, parents themselves are respon
sible for all this pain, this debility, this
depression, this misery. They have
undertaken to control the lives of their
offspring from hour to hour; with cruel
carelessness they have neglected to learn
anything about these vital processes
which they are unceasingly affecting by
their commands and prohibitions; in
utter ignorance of the simplest physiologic
laws, they have been year by year under
mining the constitutions of their children;
and have so inflicted disease and pre
mature death, not only on them but on
their descendants.
Equally great are the ignorance and
the consequent injury, when we turn
from physical training to moral training.
Consider the young mother and her
nursery-legislation. But a few years ago
she was at school, where her memory
was crammed with words, and names,
and dates, and her reflective faculties
scarcely in the slightest degree exercised
—where not one idea was given her
respecting the methods of dealing with
the opening mind of childhood; and
where her discipline did not in the least
fit her for thinking out methods of her
own. The intervening years have been
passed in practising music, in fancy-work,
in novel-reading, and in party-going : no
thought having yet been given to the
grave responsibilities of maternity; and
scarcely any of that solid intellectual
culture obtained which would be some
preparation for such responsibilities. And
now see her with an unfolding human
character committed to her charge—see
her profoundly ignorant of the pheno
mena with which she has to deal, under
taking to do that which can be done but
imperfectly even with the aid of the
profoundest knowledge.
She knows
nothing about the nature of the emotions,
their order of evolution, their functions,
or where use ends and abuse begins.
She is under the impression that some
of the feelings are wholly bad, which is
not true of any one of them; and that
others are good however far they may be
carried, which is also not true of any one
of them. And then, ignorant as she is
of the structure she has to deal with, she
is equally ignorant of the effects produced
�WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?
on it by this or that treatment. What
ran be more inevitable than the disas
trous results we see hourly arising ?
lacking knowledge of mental pheno
mena, with their cause and consequences,
her interference is frequently more
mischievous than absolute passivity would
have been. This and that kind of action,
which are quite normal and beneficial,
she perpetually thwarts; and so dimin
ishes the child’s happiness and profit,
injures its temper and her own, and pro
duces estrangement. Deeds which she
thinks it desirable to encourage, she gets
performed by threats and bribes, or by
exciting a desire for applause : consider
ing little what the inward motive may
be, so long as the outward conduct con
forms ; and thus cultivating hypocrisy,
and fear, and selfishness, in place of good
feeling. While insisting on truthfulness,
she constantly sets an example of untruth,
by threatening penalties which she does
not inflict. While inculcating self-con
trol, she hourly visits on her little ones,
angry scoldings for acts undeserving of
them. She has not the remotest idea
that in the nursery, as in the world, that
alone is the truly salutary discipline
which visits on all conduct, good and
bad, the natural consequences—the con
sequences, pleasurable or painful, which
in the nature of things such conduct
tends to bring.
Being thus without
theoretic guidance, and quite incapable
of guiding herself by tracing the mental
processes going on in her children, her
rule is impulsive, inconsistent, mis
chievous ; and would indeed be generally
ruinous, were it not that the overwhelm
ing tendency of the growing mind to
assume the moral type of the race,
usually subordinates all minor influences.
And then the culture of the intellect—
is not this, too, mismanaged in a similar
manner ? Grant that the phenomena of
25
intelligence conform to laws; grant that
the evolution of intelligence in a child
also conforms to laws; and it follows
inevitably that education cannot be
rightly guided without a knowledge of
these laws. To suppose that you can
properly regulate this process of forming
and accumulating ideas, without under
standing the nature of the process, is
absurd. How widely, then, must teach
ing as it is, differ from teaching as it
should be; when hardly any parents,
and but few tutors, know anything about
psychology. As might be expected,
the established system is grievously at
fault, alike in matter and in manner.
While the right class of facts is withheld,
the wrong class is forcibly administered
in the wrong way and in the wrong order.
Under that common limited idea of
education which confines it to knowledge
gained from books, parents thrust primers
into the hands of their little ones years
too soon, to their great injury.. Not
recognising the truth that the function of
books is supplementary—that they form
an indirect means to knowledge when
direct means fail—a means of seeing
through other men what you cannot see for
yourself; teachers are eager to give second
hand facts in place of first-hand facts.
Not perceiving the enormous value of
that spontaneous education which goes
on in early years—not perceiving that a
child’s restless observation, instead of
being ignored or checked, should be
diligently ministered to, and made as
accurate and complete as possible;
they insist on occupying its eyes and
thoughts with things that are, for the
time being, incomprehensible and
repugnant. Possessed by a superstition
which worships the symbols of know
ledge instead of knowledge itself, they
do not see that only when his acquain
tance with the objects and processes of
�26
EDUCATION
the household, the streets, and the fields,
is becoming tolerably exhaustive—only
then should a child be introduced to the
new sources of information which books
supply: and this, not only because
immediate cognition is of far greater
value than mediate cognition; but also,
because the words contained in books
can be rightly interpreted into ideas,
only in proportion to the antecedent
experience of things.
Observe next,
that this formal instruction, far too soon
commenced, is carried on with but little
reference to the laws of mental develop
ment. Intellectual progress is of necessity
from the concrete to the abstract. But
regardless of this, highly abstract studies,
such as grammar, which should come
quite late, are begun quite early. Political
geography, dead and uninteresting to a
child, and which should be an appendage
of sociological studies, is commenced
betimes; while physical geography, com
prehensible and comparatively attractive
to a child, is in great part passed over.
Nearly every subject dealt with is arranged
in abnormal order : definitions and rules
and principles being put first, instead of
being disclosed, as they are in the order
of nature, through the study of cases.
And then, pervading the whole, is .the
vicious system of rote learning—a system
of sacrificing the spirit to the letter. See
the results. What with perceptions
unnaturally dulled by early thwarting,
and a coerced attention to books—what
with the mental confusion produced by
teaching subjects before they can be
understood, and in each of them giving
generalisations before the facts of which
they are the generalisations—what with
making the pupil a mere passive recipient
of others’ ideas, and not in the least
leading him to be an active inquirer or
self-instructor—and what with taxing the
faculties to excess ; there are very few
minds that become as efficient as they
might be.
Examinations being once
passed, books are laid aside ; the greater
part of what has been acquired, being
unorganised, soon drops out of recollec
tion ; what remains is mostly inert—the
art of applying knowledge not having
been cultivated; and there is but little
power either of accurate observation or
independent thinking. To all which
add, that while much of the information
gained is of relatively small value, an
immense mass of information of trans
cendent value is entirely passed over.
Thus we find the facts to be such as
might have been inferred a priori. The
training of children—physical, moral,
and intellectual—is dreadfully defective.
And in great measure it is so, because
parents are devoid of that knowledge
by which this training can alone be
rightly guided. What is to be expected
when one of the most intricate of
problems is undertaken by those who
have given scarcely a thought to the
principles on which its solution depends?
For shoe-making or house-building, for
the management of a ship or a loco
motive engine, a long apprenticeship is
needful. Is it, then, that the unfolding
of a human being in body and mind, is
so comparatively simple a process, that
any one may superintend and regulate
it with no preparation whatever ? If not
—if the process is, with one exception,
more complex than any in Nature, and
the task of ministering to it one of
surpassing difficulty; is it not madness
to make no provision for such a task ?
Better sacrifice accomplishments than
omit this all-essential instruction. When
a father, acting on false dogmas adopted
without examination, has alienated his
sons, driven them into rebellion by his
harsh treatment, ruined them, and made
himself miserable ; he might reflect that
�WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?
the study of Ethology would have been
worth pursuing, even at the cost of
knowing nothing about Asschylus. When
a mother is mourning over a first-born
that has sunk under the sequelae of
scarlet-fever—when perhaps a candid
medical man has confirmed her suspicion
that her child would have recovered had
not its system been enfeebled by over
study—when she is prostrate under the
pangs of combined grief and remorse;
it is but small consolation that she can
read Dante in the original.
Thus we see that for regulating the
third great division of human activities,
a knowledge of the laws of life is the one
thing needful. Some acquaintance with
the first principles of physiology and the
elementary truths of psychology, is indis
pensable for the right bringing up of
children.; We doubt not that many
will read this assertion with a smile.
That parents in general should be ex
pected to acquire a knowledge of subjects
so abstruse, will seem to them an absur
dity. And if we proposed that an
exhaustive knowledge of these subjects
should be obtained by all fathers and
mothers, the absurdity would indeed be
glaring enough. But we do not. General
principles only, accompanied by such
illustrations as may be needed to make
them understood, would suffice. And
these might be readily taught—if not
rationally, then dogmatically. Be this
as it may, however, here are the indispu
table facts:—that the development of
children in mind and body follows
certain laws; that unless these laws are
in some degree conformed to by parents,
death is inevitable; that unless they are
in a great degree conformed to, there
must result serious physical and mental
defects; and that only when they are
completely conformed to, can a perfect
maturity he reached.
Judge, then,
27
whether all who may one day be parents,
should not strive with some anxiety to
learn what these laws are.
From the parental functions let us
pass now to the functions of the citizen.
We have here to inquire what knowledge
fits a man for the discharge of these
functions. It cannot be alleged that the
need of knowledge fitting him for these
functions is wholly overlooked; for our
school-courses contain certain studies
which, nominally at least, bear upon
political and social duties. Of these
the only one that occupies a prominent
place is History.
But, as already hinted, the information
commonly given under this head, is
almost valueless for purposes of gui
dance. Scarcely any of the facts set down
in our school-histories, and very few of
those contained in the more elaborate
works written for adults, illustrate the
right principles of political action.
The biographies of monarchs (and our
children learn little else) throw scarcely
any light upon the science of society.
Familiarity with court intrigues, plots,
usurpations, or the like, and with all the
personalities accompanying them, aids
very little in elucidating the causes of
national progress. We read of some
squabble for power, that it led to a
pitched battle ; that such and such were
the names of the generals and their
leading subordinates; that they had
each so many thousand infantry and
cavalry, and so many cannon : that they
arranged their forces in this and that
order; that they manoeuvred, attacked,
and fell back in certain ways; that at
this part of the day such disasters were
sustained, and at that such advantages
gained ; that in one particular movement
some leading officer fell, while in another
a certain regiment was decimated; that
�28
EDUCATION
after all the changing fortunes of the
fight, the victory was gained by this or
that army ; and that so many were killed
and wounded on each side, and so many
captured by the conquerors. And now,
out of the accumulated details making
up the narrative, say which it is that
helps you in deciding on your conduct
as a citizen. Supposing even that you
diligently read, not only “The Fifteen
Decisive Battles of the World,” but
accounts of all other battles that history
mentions; how much more judicious
would your vote be at the next election ?
“But these are facts—interesting facts,”
you say. Without doubt they are facts
(such, at least, as are not wholly or
partially fictions); and to many they
may be interesting facts. But this by
no means implies that they are valuable.
Factitious or morbid opinion often gives
seeming value to things that have scarcely
any. A tulipomaniac will not part with
a choice bulb for its weight in gold.
To another man an ugly piece of cracked
old china seems his most desirable
possession. And there are those who
give high prices for relics of celebrated
murderers. Will it be contended that
these tastes are any measure of value in
the things that gratify them ? If not,
then it must be admitted that the liking
felt for certain classes of historical facts
is no proof of their worth; and that we
must test their worth, as we test the
worth of other facts, by asking to what
uses they are applicable. Were some
one to tell you that your neighbour’s cat
kittened yesterday, you would say the
information was valueless. Fact though
it may be, you would call it an utterly
useless fact—a fact that could in no way
influence your actions in life—a fact that
would not help you in learning how to
live completely. Well, apply the same
test to the great mass of historical facts,
and you will get the same result. They
are facts from which no conclusions can
be drawn — unorganisable facts; and
therefore facts of no service in establishing
principles of conduct, which is the chief
use of facts. Read them, if you like,
for amusement; but do not flatter
yourself they are instructive.
That which constitutes History,
properly so called, is in great part
omitted from works on the subject.
Only of late years have historians com
menced giving us, in any considerable
quantity, the truly valuable information.
As in past ages the king was everything
and the people nothing; so, in past
histories the doings of the king fill the
entire picture, to which the national life
forms but an obscure background.
While only now, when the welfare of
nations rather than the rulers is becoming
the dominant idea, are historians beginning
to occupy themselves with the phenomena
of social progress. The thing it really
concerns us to know, is the natural
history of society. We want all facts
which help us to understand how a
nation has grown and organised itself.
Among these, let us of course have an
account of its government; with as little
as may be of gossip about the men who
officered it, and as much as possible
about the structure, principles, methods,
prejudices, corruptions, etc., which it
exhibited; and let this account include
not only the nature and actions of the
central government, but also those of
local governments, down to their minutest
ramifications. Let us of course also have
a parallel description of the ecclesiastical
government—its organisation, its con
duct, its power, its relations to the State;
and accompanying this, the ceremonial,
creed, and religious ideas—not only
those nominally believed, but those
really believed and acted upon. Let us
�WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?
at the same time be informed of the
Control exercised by class over class, as
displayed in social observances—in titles,
¡Salutations, and forms of address. Let
us know, too, what were all the other
customs which regulated the popular life
out of doors and in-doors ; including
those concerning the relations of the
sexes, and the relations of parents to
children. The superstitions, also, from
the more important myths down to the
charms in common use, should be
indicated. Next should cornea delinea
tion of the industrial system : showing to
what extent the division of labour was
carried ; how trades were regulated,
whether by caste, guilds, or otherwise;
what was the connection between
employers and employed; what were
the agencies for distributing commo
dities; what were the means of com
munication ; what was the circulating
medium. Accompanying all which should
be given an account of the industrial
arts technically considered : stating the
processes in use, and the quality of the
products. Further, the intellectual con
dition of the nation in its various grades
should be depicted ; not only with
respect to the kind and amount of
education, but with respect to the
progress made in science, and the pre
vailing manner of thinking. The degree
of æsthetic culture, as displayed in
architecture, sculpture, painting, dress,
music, poetry, and fiction, should be
described. Nor should there be omitted
a sketch of the daily lives of the people—
their food, their homes, and their amuse
ments. And lastly, to connect the whole,
should be exhibited the morals, theo
retical and practical, of all classes : as
indicated in their laws, habits, proverbs,
deeds. * hese facts, given with as much
T
brevity as consists with clearness and
accuracy, should be so grouped and
29
arranged that they may be comprehended
in their ensemble, and contemplated as
mutually-dependent parts of one great
whole. The aim should be so to present
them that men may readily trace the
consensus subsisting among them; with
the view of learning what social
phenomena co-exist with what others.
And then the corresponding delineations
of succeeding ages should be so managed
as to show how each belief, institution,
custom, and arrangement was modified;
and how the consensus of preceding
structures and functions was developed
into the consensus of succeeding ones.
Such alone is the kind of information
respecting past times, which can be of
service to the citizen for the regulation
of his conduct. The only history that
is of practical value, is what may be
called Descriptive Sociology. And the
highest office which the historian can
discharge, is that of so narrating the lives
of nations, as to furnish materials for a
Comparative Sociology; and for the
subsequent determination of the ultimate
laws to which social phenomena con
form.
But now mark, that even supposing
an adequate stock of this truly valuable
historical knowledge has been acquired,
it is of comparatively little use without
the key. And the key is to be found
only in Science. In the absence of the
generalisations of biology and psychology,
rational interpretation of social pheno
mena is impossible. Only in proportion
as men draw certain rude, empirical
inferences respecting human nature, are
they enabled to understand even the
simplest facts of social life: as, for
instance, the relation between supply and
demand. And if the most elementary
truths of sociology cannot be reached
until some knowledge is obtained of how
men generally think, feel, and act under
�3©
EDUCATION
given circumstances; then it is manifest
that there can oe nothing like a wide
comprehension of sociology, unless
through a competent acquaintance with
man in all his faculties, bodily and
mental.
Consider the matter in the
. abstract, and this conclusion is selfevident. Thus :—Society is made up of
individuals; ail that is done in society is
done by the combined actions of indi
viduals ; and therefore, in individual
actions only can be found the solutions
of social phenomena. But the actions
of individuals depend on the laws of
their natures; and their actions cannot
be understood until these laws are under
stood.
These laws, however, when
reduced to their simplest expressions,
prove to be corollaries from the laws of
body and mind in general. Hence it
follows, that biology and psychology are
indispensable as interpreters of sociology.
Or, to state the conclusions still more
simply : — all social phenomena are
phenomena of life—are the most com
plex manifestations of life—must con
form to the laws of life—and can be
understood only when the laws of life
are understood. Thus, then, for the
regulation of this fourth division of
human activities, »we are, as before,
dependent on Science. Of the know
ledge commonly imparted in educational
courses, very little is of service for guiding
a man in his conduct as a citizen. Only
a small part of the history he reads is of
practical value; and of this small part he
is not prepared to make proper use. He
lacks not only the materials for, but the
very conception of, descriptive sociology;
and he also lacks those generalisations
of the organic sciences, without which
even descriptive sociology can give him
but small aid.
And now we come to that remaining
division of human life which includes the
relaxations and amusements filling leisure
hours. After considering what training
best fits for self-preservation, for the
obtainment of sustenance, for the dis
charge of parental duties, and for the
regulation of social and political conduct;
we have now to consider what training
best fits for the miscellaneous ends n6t
included in these—for the enjoyments of
Nature, of Literature, and of the Fine
Arts, in all their forms. Postponing
them as we do to things that bear more
vitally upon human welfare; and bringing
everything, as we have, to the test of
actual value ; it will perhaps be inferred
that we are inclined to slight these less
essential things. No greater mistake
could be made, however. We yield to
none in the value we attach to aesthetic
culture and its pleasures.
Without
painting, sculpture, music, poetry, and
the emotions produced by natural beauty
of every kind, life would lose half its
charm. So far from regarding the
training and gratification of the tastes
as unimportant, we believe that in time to
come they will occupy a much larger share
of human life than now. When the forces
of Nature have been fully cojiquered to
man’s use—when the means of produc
tion have been brought to perfection—
when labour has been economised to
the highest degree—when education has
been so systematised that a preparation
for the more essential activities may be
made with comparative rapidity—and
when, consequently, there is a great
increase of spare time; then will the
beautiful, both in Art and Nature, rightly
fill a large space in the minds of all.
But it is one thing to approve of
aesthetic culture as largely conducive to
human happiness; and another thing to
admit that it is a fundamental requisite
to human happiness. However important
�WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?
it may be, it must yield precedence
to those kinds of culture which bear
directly upon daily duties. As before
hinted, literature and the fine arts are
made possible by those activities which
make individual and social life possible ;
and manifestly, that which is made
possible, must be postponed to that
which makes it possible. A florist
cultivates a plant for the sake of its
flower ; and regards the roots and leaves
as of value, chiefly because they are
instrumental in producing the flower.
But while, as an ultimate product, the
flower is the thing to which everything
else is subordinate, the florist has learnt
that the root and leaves ase intrinsically
of greater importance ; because on them
the evolution of the flower depends. He
bestows every care in rearing a healthy
plant; and knows it would be folly if,
in his anxiety to obtain the flower, he
were to neglect the plant. Similarly
in thé case before us.
Architecture,
sculpture, painting, music, and poetry,
may truly be called the efflorescence of
civilised life. But even supposing they
are of such transcendent worth as to
subordinatethe civilised life out of which
they grow^vhich can hardly be asserted),
it will still be admitted that the produc
tion of a healthy civilised life must be
the first condition ; and that culture
subserving this must occupy the highest
place.
And here we see most distinctly the
vice of our educational system.
It
neglects the plant for the sake of the
flower. In anxiety for elegance, it
forgets substance. While it gives no
knowledge conducive to self-preservation
—while of knowledge that facilitates
gaining a livelihood it gives but the
rudiments, and leaves the greater part
to be picked up any how in after life—
while for the discharge'of parental func
31
tions it makes not the slightest provision
—and while for the duties of citizenship
it prepares by imparting a mass of facts,
most of which are irrelevant, and the rest
without a key; it is diligent in teaching
whatever adds to refinement, polish,
éclat. Fully as we may admit that ex
tensive acquaintance with modern lan
guages is a valuable accomplishment,
which, through reading, conversation,
and travel, aids in giving a certain finish;
it by no means follows that this result
is rightly purchased at the cost of the
vitally important knowledge sacrificed to
it. Supposing it true that classical edu
cation conduces to elegance and correct
ness of style; it cannot be said that
elegance and correctness of style are
comparable in importance to a familiarity
with the principles that should guide the
rearing of children. Grant that the
taste may be improved by reading the
poetry written in extinct languages; yet
it is not to be inferred that such im
provement of taste is equivalent in value
to an acquaintance with the laws of
health. Accomplishments, the fine arts,
belles-lettres, and all those things which,
as we say, constitute the efflorescence of
civilisation, should be wholly subordi
nate to that instruction and discipline on
which civilisation rests. As they occupy
the leisure part of life, so should they
occupy the leisure part of education.
Recognising thus the true position of
aesthetics, and holding that while the
cultivation of them should form a part
of education from its commencement,
such cultivation should be subsidiary;
we have now to inquire what knowledge
is of most use to this end—what know
ledge best fits for this remaining sphere
of activity ? To this question the answer
is still the same as heretofore. Unex
pected though the assertion may be, it is
nevertheless true, that the highest Art of
�32
EDUCATION
every kind is based on Science—that
without Science there can be neither
perfect production nor full appreciation.
Science, in that limited acceptation
current in society, may not have been
possessed by various artists of high
repute; but acute observers as such
artists have been, they have always
possessed a stock of those empirical
generalisations which constitute science
in its lowest phase; and they have
habitually fallen far below perfection,
partly because their generalisations were
comparatively few and inaccurate. That
science necessarily underlies the fine arts,
becomes manifest, a priori, when we
remember that art products are all more
or less representative of objective or sub
jective phenomena; that they can be
good only in proportion as they conform
to the laws of these phenomena; and
that before they can thus conform, the
artist must know what these laws are.
That this a priori conclusion tallies with
experience, we shall soon see.
Youths preparing for the practice of
sculpture, have to acquaint themselves
with the bones and muscles of the human
frame in their distribution, attachments,
and movements. This is a portion of
science; and it has been found needful
to impart it for the prevention of those
many errors which sculptors who do not
possess it commit.
A knowledge of
mechanical principles is also requisite;
and such knowledge not being usually
possessed, grave mechanical mistakes
are frequently made. Take an instance.
For the stability of a figure it is needful
that the perpendicular from the centre
of gravity—“ the line of direction,” as it
is called—should fall within the base of
support; and hence it happens, that
when a man assumes the attitude known
as “ standing at ease,” in which one leg
is straightened and the other relaxed, the
line of direction falls within the foot of
the straightened leg. But sculptors un- I
familiar with the theory of equilibrium,
not uncommonly so represent this atti- i
tude, that the line of direction falls mid- 1
way between the feet. Ignorance of the
law of momentum leads to analogous
blunders : as witness the admired Dis- |
cobolus, which, as it is posed, must inevit
ably fall forward the moment the quoit
is delivered.
In painting, the necessity for scientific
information, empirical if not rational, is
still more conspicuous. What gives the
grotesqueness to Chinese pictures, unless
their utter disregard of the laws of
appearances^|heir absurd linear per
spective, and their want of aerial per
spective ? In what are the drawings of
a child so faulty, if not in a similar
absence of truth—an absence arising, in
great part, from ignorance of the way in f
which the aspects of things vary with the
conditions? Do but remember the books 2
and lectures by which students are in
structed; or consider the criticisms of If
Ruskin; or look at the doings of the Pre- £
Raffaelites; and you will see that pro
gress in painting implies ¡increasing
knowledge of how effects in Mture are a:
produced. The most diligent observa
tion, if unaided by science, fails to pre
serve from error. Every painter will I Hi
endorse the assertion that unless it is
known what appearances must exist
under given circumstances, they often 03
will not be perceived; and to know what
appearances must exist is, in so far, to if
understand the science of appearances. : .236
From want of science Mr. J. Lewis,
careful painter as he is, casts the shadow
of a lattice-window in sharply-defined baii
lines upon an opposite wall; which he
would not have done, had he been
familiar with the phenomena of penum -friii
brae. From want of science, Mr. Rosetti,
1
�WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?
catching sight of a peculiar iridescence
displayed by certain hairy surfaces under
particular lights (an iridescence caused
by the diffraction of light in passing the
hairs), commits the error of showing this
iridescence on surfaces and in positions
where it could not occur.
To say that music, too, has need of
scientific aid will cause still more sur
prise. Yet it may be shown that music
is but an idealisation of the natural lan
guage of emotion; and that consequently,
music must be good or bad according as
it conforms to the laws of this natural
language.
The various inflections of
voice which accompany feelings of dif
ferent kinds and intensities, are the
germs out of which music is developed.
It is demonstrable that these inflections
and cadences are not accidental or arbi
trary ; but that they are determined by
certain general principles of vital action;
and that their expressiveness depends on
this. Whence it follows that musical
phrases and the melodies built of them,
can be effective only when they are in
harmony with these general principles. It
is difficult here properly to illustrate this
position. But perhaps it will suffice to
instance the swarms of worthless ballads
that infest arawing-rooms, as composi
tions which science would forbid. They
sin against science by setting to music,
ideas that are not emotional enough to
prompt musical expression; and they
also sin against science by using musical
phrases that have no natural relations to
the ideas expressed : even where these
are emotional. They are bad because
they are untrue. And to say they are
untrue, is to say they are unscientific.
Even in poetry the same thing holds.
Like music, poetry has its root in those
natural modes of expression which
accompany deep feeling. Its rhythm,
its strong and numerous metaphors, its
33
hyperboles, its violent inversions, are
simply exaggerations of the traits of
excited speech. To be good, therefore,
poetry must pay attention to those laws
of nervous action which excited speech
obeys. In intensifying and combining
the traits of excited speech, it must have
due regard to proportion—must not use
its appliances without restriction ; but,
where the ideas are least emotional,
must use the forms of poetical expression
sparingly ; must use them more freely as
the emotion rises ; and must carry them
to their greatest extent, only where the
emotion reaches a climax. The entire
contravention of these principles results
in bombast or doggerel. The insufficient
respect for them is seen in didactic
poetry. And it is because they are
rarely fully obeyed, that so much poetry
is inartistic.
Not only is it that the artist, of what
ever kind, cannot produce a truthful
work without he understands the laws
of the phenomena he represents ; but it
is that he must also understand how the
minds of spectators or listeners will be
affected by the several peculiarities of his
work—a question in psychology. What
impression any art-product generates,
manifestly depends upon the mental
natures of those to whom it is presented;
and as all mental natures have certain
characteristics in common, there must
result certain corresponding general prin
ciples on which alone art-products can
be successfully framed. These general
principles cannot be fully understood
and applied, unless the artist sees how
they follow from the laws of mind. To
ask whether the composition of a picture
is good, is really to ask how the percep
tions and feelkjgs of observers will be:
affected by it. To ask whether a drama,
is well constructed, is to ask whether its
situations are so arranged as duly to»
�34
ÉDUCATION
consult the power of attention of an audi
ence and duly to avoid overtaxing any
one class of feelings. Equally in arrang
ing the leading divisions of a poem or
fiction, and in combining the words of
a single sentence, the goodness of the
effect depends upon the skill with which
the mental energies and susceptibilities
of the reader are economised. Every
artist, in the course of his education and
after-life, accumulates a stock of maxims
by which his practice is regulated. Trace
such maxims to their roots, and they
inevitably lead you down to psychological
principles. And only when the artist
understands these psychological principles
and their various corollaries, can he work
in harmony with them.
We do not for a moment believe that
science will make an artist. While we
contend that the leading laws both of
objective and subjective phenomena
must be understood by him, we by no
means contend that knowledge of such
laws will serve in place of natural per
ception. Not the poet only, but the
artist of every type, is born, not made.
What we assert is, that innate faculty
cannot dispense with the aid of organised
knowledge. Intuition will do much, but
it will not do all. Only when Genius is
married to Science can the highest
results be produced.
As we have above asserted, Science is
necessary not only for the most success
ful production, but also for the full
appreciation, of the fine arts. In what
consists the greater ability of a man than
of a child to perceive the beauties of a
picture; unless it is in his more extended
knowledge of those truths in nature or
life which the picture renders? How
happens the cultivated gentleman to
enjoy a fine poem so much more than a
boor does; if it is not because his wider
acquaintance with objects and actions
enables him to see in the poem much
that the boor cannot see ? And if, as is
here so obvious, there must be some
familiarity with the things represented,
before the representation can be appre
ciated ; then the representation can
be completely appreciated, only when
the things represented are completely
understood.
The fact is, that every
additional truth which a work of art
expresses, gives an additional pleasure
to the percipient mind—a pleasure that
is missed by those ignorant of this truth.
The more realities an artist indicates in
any given amount of work, the more
faculties does he appeal to; the more
numerous ideas does he suggest; the
more gratification does he afford. But
to receive this gratification the spectator,
listener, or reader, must know the realities
which the artist has indicated; and to
know these realities is to have that much
science.
And now let us not overlook the
further great fact, that not only does
science underlie sculpture, painting,
music, poetry, but that science is itself
poetic. The current opinion that science
and poetry are opposed, is it delusion.
It is doubtless true that as states of
consciousness, cognition and emotion
tend to exclude each other. And it is
doubtless also true that an extreme
activity of the reflective powers tends
to deaden the feelings; while an
extreme activity of the feelings tends to
deaden the reflective powers: in which
sense, indeed, all orders of activity are
antagonistic to each other. But it is
not true that the facts of science are
unpoetical; or that the cultivation of
science is necessarily unfriendly to the
exercise of imagination and the love of
the beautiful. On the contrary, science
opens up realms of poetry where to
the unscientific all is a blank. Those
�WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?
engaged in scientific researches constantly
show us that they realise not less vividly,
but more vividly, than others, the poetry
of their subjects. Whoso will dip into
Hugh Miller’s works on geology, or read
Mr. Lewes’s Seaside Studies, will per
ceive that science excites poetry rather
than extinguishes it. And he who con
templates the life of Goethe, must see
that the poet and the man of science
can co-exist in equal activity. Is it not,
indeed, an absurd and almost a sacri
legious belief, that the more a man studies
Nature the less he reveres it? Think
you that a drop of water, which to the
vulgar eye is but a drop of water, loses
anything in the eye of the physicist who
knows that its elements are held together
by a force which, if suddenly liberated,
would produce a flash of lightning ?
Think you that what is carelessly looked
upon by the uninitiated as a mere snow
flake, does not suggest higher associations
to one who has seen through a micro
scope the wondrously-varied and elegant
forms of snow-crystals ? Think you that
the rounded rock marked with parallel
scratches, calls up as much poetry in an
ignorant mind as in the mind of a geolo
gist who knows that over this rock a
glacier slid a million years ago ? The
truth is, that those who have never
entered upon scientific pursuits are blind
to most of the poetry by which they are
surrounded. Whoever has not in youth
collected plants and insects, knows not
half the halo of interest which lanes and
hedge-rows can assume. Whoever has
not sought for fossils, has little idea of
the poetical associations that surround the
places where imbedded treasures were
found. Whoever at the seaside has not
had a microscope and aquarium, has yet
to learn what the highest pleasures of
the seaside are. Sad, indeed, is it to
see how men occupy themselves with
35
trivialities, and are indifferent to the
grandest phenomena—care not to under
stand the architecture of the Heavens,
but are deeply interested in some con
temptible controversy about the intrigues
of Mary Queen of Scots !—are learnedly
critical over a Greek ode, and pass by
without a glance that grand epic written
by the finger of God upon the strata of
the Earth !
We find, then, that even for this
remaining division of human activities,
scientific culture is the proper prepara
tion. We find that aesthetics in general
are necessarily based upon scientific
principles; and can be pursued with com
plete success only through an acquain
tance with these principles. We find
that for the criticism and due apprecia
tion of works of art, a knowledge of
the constitution of things, or in other
words, a knowledge of science, is requi
site. And we not only find that science
is the handmaid to all forms of art and
poetry, but that, rightly regarded, science
is itself poetic.
Thus far our question has been, the
worth of knowledge of this or that kind
for purposes of guidance. We have now
to judge the relative values of different
kinds of knowledge for purposes of
discipline. This division of our subject
we are obliged to treat with comparative
brevity; and happily, no very lengthened
treatment of it is needed. Having found
what is best for the one end, we have by
implication found what is best for the
other. We may be quite sure that the
acquirement of those classes of facts
which are most useful for regulating
conduct, involves a mental exercise best
fitted for strengthening the faculties. It
would be utterly contrary to the beautiful
economy of Nature, if one kind of culture
were needed for the gaining of information
�36
EDUCATION
and another kind were needed as a
mental gymnastic. Everywhere through
out creation we find faculties developed
through the performance of those func
tions which it is their office to perform;
not through the performance of artificial
exercises devised to fit them for those
functions.
The Red Indian acquires
the swiftness and agility which make him
a successful hunter, by the actual pursuit
of animals; and through the miscel
laneous activities of his life, he gains a
better balance of physical powers than
gymnastics ever give.
That skill in
tracking enemies and prey which he has
reached after long practice, implies a
subtlety of perception far exceeding any
thing produced by artificial training.
And similarly in all cases. From the
Bushman whose eye, habitually employed
in identifying distant objects that are to
be pursued or fled from, has acquired a
telescopic range, to the accountant whose
daily practice enables him to add up
several columns of figures simultaneously;
we find that the highest power of a faculty
results from the discharge of those duties
which the conditions of life require it to
discharge. And we may be certain,
a priori, that the same law holds through
out education. The education of most
value for guidance, must at the same
time be the education of most value for
discipline. Let us consider the evidence.
One advantage claimed for that devo
tion to language-learning which forms
so prominent a feature in the ordinary
curriculum, is, that the memory is thereby
strengthened. This is assumed to be
an advantage peculiar to the study of
words. But the truth is, that the sciences
afford far wider fields for the exercise of
memory. It is no slight task to remember
everything about our solar system; much
more to remember all that is known
concerning the structure of our galaxy.
The number of compound substances,
to which chemistry daily adds, is so
great that few, save professors, can
enumerate them; and to recollect the
atomic constitutions and affinities of all
these compounds, is scarcely possible
without making chemistry the occupation
of life.
In the enormous mass of
phenomena presented by the Earth’s
crust, and in the still more enormous
mass of phenomena presented by the
fossils it contains, there is matter which
it takes the geological student years of
application to master.
Each leading
division of physics—sound, heat, light,
electricity — includes facts numerous
enough to alarm any one proposing to
learn them all. And when we pass to
the organic sciences, the effort of memory
required becomes still greater. In human
anatomy alone, the quantity of detail is
so great, that the young surgeon has
commonly to get it up half-a-dozen
times before he can permanently retain
it. The number of species of plants
which botanists distinguish, amounts to
some 320,000; while the varied forms
of animal life with which the zoologist
deals, are estimated at some 2,000,000.
So vast is the accumulation of facts
which men of science have before them,
that only by dividing and subdividing
their labours can they deal with it. To
a detailed knowledge of his own division,
each adds but a general knowledge of
the allied ones ; joined perhaps to a rudi
mentary acquaintance with some others.
Surely, then, science, cultivated even to
a very moderate extent, affords adequate
exercise for memory. To say the very
least, it involves quite as good a dis
cipline for this faculty as language does.
But now mark that while, for the
training of mere memory, science is as
good as, if not better than, language,
it has an immense superiority in the kind
�WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?
of memory it trains. In the acquire
ment of a language, the connections of
ideas to be established in the mind
correspond to facts that are in great
measure accidental ; whereas, in the
acquirement of science, the connections
of ideas to be established in the mind
correspond to facts that are mostly
necessary. It is true that the relations
of words to their meanings are in one
sense natural; that the genesis of these
relations may be traced back a certain
distance, though rarely to the beginning;
and that the laws of this genesis form a
branch of mental science—the science
of philology. But since it will not be
contended that in the acquisition of
languages, as ordinarily carried on, these
natural relations between words and
their meanings are habitually traced,
and their laws explained; it must be
admitted that they are commonly learned
as fortuitous relations. On the other
hand, the relations which science pre
sents are causal relations; and, when
properly taught, are understood as such.
While language familiarises with nonrational relations, science familiarises
with rational relations. While the one
exercises memory only, the other exer
cises both memory and understanding.
Observe next, that a great superiority
of science over language as a means of
discipline, is, that it cultivates the judg
ment. As, in a lecture on mental edu
cation delivered at the Royal Institution,
Professor Faraday well remarks, the most
common intellectual fault is deficiency of
judgment. “Society, speaking generally,”
he says, “ is not only ignorant as respects
education of the judgment, but it is also
ignorant of its ignorance.” And the
cause to which he ascribes this state, is
want of scientific culture. The truth of
his conclusion is obvious. Correct judg
ment with regard to surrounding objects,
37
events, and consequences, becomes pos
sible only through knowledge of the way
in which surrounding phenomena depend
on each other. No extent of acquain
tance with the meanings of words, will
guarantee correct inferences respecting
causes and effects. The habit of drawing
conclusions from data, and then of verify
ing those conclusions by observation
and experiment, can alone give the
power of judging correctly. And that it
necessitates this habit is one of the
immense advantages of science.
Not only, however, for intellectual
discipline is science the best; but also
for moral discipline. The learning of
languages tends, if anything, further to
increase the already undue respect for
authority.
Such and such are the
meanings of these words, says the teacher
or the dictionary. So and so is the rule
in this case, says the grammar. By the
pupil these dicta are received as un
questionable. His constant attitude of
mind is that of submission to dogmatic
teaching. And a necessary result is a
tendency to accept without inquiry what
ever is established. Quite opposite is
the mental tone generated by the culti
vation of science. Science makes con
stant appeal to individual reason. Its
truths are not accepted on authority
alone; but all are at liberty to test them
—nay, in many cases, the pupil is
required to think out his own conclu
sions. Every step in a scientific investi
gation is submitted to his judgment.
He is not asked to admit it without
seeing it to be true. And the trust in
his own powers thus produced, is further
increased by the uniformity with which
Nature justifies his inferences when they
are correctly drawn. From all which
there flows that independence which is
a most valuable element in character.
Nor is this the only moral benefit
�38
EDUCATION
bequeathed by scientific culture. When
carried on, as it should always be, as
much as possible under the form of
original research, it exercises perseverance
and sincerity. As says Professor Tyndall
of inductive inquiry, “it requires patient
industry, and an humble and conscien
tious acceptance of what Nature reveals.
The first condition of success is an
honest receptivity and a willingness to
abandon all preconceived notions, how
ever cherished, if they be found to con
tradict the truth. Believe me, a selfrenunciation which has something noble
in it, and of which the world never hears,
is often enacted in the private experience
of the true votary of science.”
Lastly we have to assert—and the
assertion will, we doubt not, cause extreme
surprise—that the discipline of science
is superior to that of our ordinary
education, because of the religious culture
that it gives. Of course we do not here
use the words scientific and religious in
their ordinary limited acceptations ; but
in their widest and highest acceptations.
Doubtless, to the superstitions that pass
under the name of religion, science is
antagonistic; but not to the essential
religion which these superstitions merely
hide. Doubtless, too, in much of the
science that is current, there is a pervad
ing spirit of irreligion; but not in that
true science which has passed beyond
the superficial into the profound.
“ True science and true religion,” says Pro
fessor Huxley at the close of a recent course of
lectures, “ are twin-sisters, and the separation
of either from the other is sure to prove the
death of both. Science prospers exactly in pro
portion as it is religious ; and religion flourishes
in exact proportion to the scientific depth and
firmness of its basis. The great deeds of
philosophers have been less the fruit of their
intellect than of the direction of that intellect by
an eminently religious tone of mind. Truth has
yielded herself rather to their patience, their
love, their single-heartedness and their self
denial, than to their logical acumen.”
So far from science being irreligious,
as many think, it is the neglect of science
that is irreligious—it is the refusal to
study the surrounding creation that is
irreligious.
Take a humble simile.
Suppose, a writer were daily saluted with
praises couched in superlative language.
Suppose the wisdom, the grandeur, the
beauty of his works, were the constant
topics of the eulogies addressed to him.
Suppose those who unceasingly uttered
these eulogies on his works were content
with looking at the outsides of them; and
had never opened them, much less tried
to understand them. What value should
we put upon their praises ? What should
we think of their sincerity ? Yet, com
paring small things to great, such is the
conduct of mankind in general, in
reference to the Universe and its Cause.
Nay, it is worse. Not only do they pass
by without study, these things which
they daily proclaim to be so wonderful;
but very frequently they condemn as
mere triflers those who give time to the
observation of Nature—they actually
scorn those who show any active interest
in these marvels. We repeat, then, that
not science, but the neglect of science,
is irreligious. Devotion to science, is a
tacit worship—a tacit recognition of
worth in the things studied; and by
implication in their Cause. It is not a
mere lip-homage, but a homage expressed
in actions—not a mere professed respect,
but a respect proved by the sacrifice of
time, thought, and labour.
Nor is it thus only that true science is
essentially religious. It is religious, too,
inasmuch as it generates a profound
respect for, and an implicit faith in,
those uniformities of action which all
things disclose. By accumulated experi
ences the man of science acquires a
�WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?
thorough belief in the unchanging rela
tions of phenomena—in the invariable
connection of cause and consequence—
in the necessity of good or evil results.
Instead of the rewards and punishments
of traditional belief, which people vaguely
hope they may gain, or escape, spite of
their disobedience ; he finds that there
are rewards and punishments in the
ordained constitution of things ; and
that the evil results of disobedience are
inevitable. He sees that the laws to
which we must submit are both inexor
able and beneficent. He sees that in
conforming to them, the process of
things is ever towards a greater perfec
tion and a higher happiness. Hence he
is led constantly to insist on them, and
is indignant when they are disregarded.
And thus does he, by asserting the
eternal principles of things and the
necessity of obeying them, prove himself
intrinsically religious.
And lastly the further religious aspect
of science, that it alone, can give us true
conceptions of ourselves and our rela
tion to the mysteries of existence. At
the same time that it shows us all which
can be known, it shows us the limits
beyond which we can know nothing.
Not by dogmatic assertion, does it teach
the impossibility of comprehending the
Ultimate Cause of things ; but it leads
us clearly to recognise this impossibility
by bringing us in. every direction to
boundaries we cannot cross. It realises
to us in a way which nothing else can,
the littleness of human intelligence in
the face of that which transcends human
intelligence. While towards the tradi
tions and authorities of men its attitude
may be proud, before the impenetrable
veil which hides the Absolute its attitude
is humble—a true pride and a true
humility. Only the sincere man of
science (and by this title we do not
39
mean the mere calculator of distances,
or analyser of compounds, or labeller of
species; but him who through lower
truths seeks higher, and eventually the
highest)—only the genuine man of
science, we say, can truly know how
utterly beyond, not only human know
ledge but human conception, is the
Universal Power of which Nature, and
Life, and Thought are manifestations.
We conclude, then, that for discipline,
as well as for guidance, science is of
chiefest value. In all its effects, learning
the meanings of things, is better than
learning the meanings of words. Whether
for intellectual, moral, or religious train
ing, the study of surrounding phenomena
is immensely superior to the study of
grammars and lexicons.
Thus to the question we set out with
—What knowledge is of most worth ?—
the uniform reply is—Science. This is
the verdict on all the counts. For direct
self-preservation, or the maintenance of
life and health, the all-important know
ledge is—Science. For that indirect
self-preservation which we call gaining
a livelihood, the knowledge of greatest
value is—Science. For the due dis
charge of parental functions, the proper
guidance is to be found only in—Science.
For that interpretation of national life,
past and present, without which the
citizen cannot rightly regulate his con
duct, the indispensable key is—Science.
Alike for the most perfect production
and present enjoyment of art in all its
forms, the needful preparation is still—
Science, and for purposes of discipline
—intellectual, moral, religious—the most
efficient study is, once more—Science.
The question which at first seemed so
perplexed, has become, in the course of
our inquiry, comparatively simple. We
have not to estimate the degrees of
�40
EDUCATION
importance of different orders of human conceived, or could have believed, yet is
activity, and different studies as severally this kind of knowledge only now receiving
fitting us for them; since we find that a grudging recognition in our highest
the study of Science, in its most com educational institutions. To the slowly
prehensive meaning, is the best prepara growing acquaintance with the uniform
tion for all these orders of activity. We co-existences and sequences of phe
have not to decide between the claims nomena—to the establishment of invari
of knowledge of great though conven able laws, we owe our emancipation from
tional value, and knowledge of less the grossest superstitions.
But for
though intrinsic value; seeing that the science we should be still worshipping
knowledge which proves to be of most fetishes ; or, with hecatombs of victims,
value in all other respects, is intrinsically propitiating diabolical deities. And yet
most valuable: its worth is not dependent this science, which, in place of the most
upon opinion, but is as fixed as is the degrading conceptions of things, has
relation of man to the surrounding world. given us some insight into the grandeurs
Necessary and eternal as are its truths,
of creation, is written against in our theo
all Science concerns all mankind for all logies and frowned upon from our pulpits.
time. Equally at present and in the
Paraphrasing an Eastern fable, we
remotest future, must it be of incalculable may say that in the family of knowledges,
importance for the regulation of their Science is the household drudge, who, in
conduct, that men should understand obscurity, hides unrecognised perfections.
the science of life, physical, mental, and To her has been committed all the work ;
social; and that they should understand by her skill, intelligence, and devotion,
all other science as a key to the science have all conveniences and gratifications
of life.
been obtained ; and while ceaselessly
And yet this study immensely tran ministering to the rest, she has been
scending all other in importance, is that kept in the background, that her haughty
which, in an age of boasted education, sisters might flaunt their fripperies in the
receives the least attention. While what eyes of the world. The parallel holds
we call civilisation could never have yet further. For we are fast coming to
arisen had it not been for science; the dénouement, when the positions will
science forms scarcely an appreciable be changed ; and while these haughty
element in our so-called civilised training. sisters sink into merited neglect, Science,
Though to the progress of science we proclaimed as highest alike in worth and
owe it, that millions find support where beauty, will reign supreme.
once there was food only for thousands;
yet of these millions but a few thousands
pay any respect to that which has made
their existence possible. Though in
creasing knowledge of the properties
CHAPTER II.
and relations of things has not only
enabled wandering tribes to grow into
INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION
populous nations, but has given to the
There cannot fail to be a relationship
countless members of these populous
between the successive systems of edu
nations, comforts and pleasures which
their few naked ancestors never even cation, and the successive social states
�INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION
with which they have co-existed. Having
a common origin in the national mind,
the institutions of each epoch, whatever
be their special functions, must have a
family likeness. When men received
.
their creed and its interpretations from
' an infallible authority deigning no expla
nations, it was natural that the teaching
of children should be purely dogmatic.
While “believe and ask no questions ”
was the maxim of the Church, it was
fitly the maxim of the school. Conversely,
/now that Protestantism has gained for
adults a right of private judgment and
established the practice of appealing to
reason, there is harmony in the change
that has made juvenile instruction a
process of exposition addressed to the
A. understanding.
Along with political
despotism, stern in its commands, ruling
by force of terror, visiting trifling crimes
with death, and implacableinits vengeance
on the disloyal, there necessarily grew up
academic discipline similarly harsh—a
discipline of multiplied injunctions and
blows for every breach of them — a
discipline of unlimited autocracy upheld
by rods, and ferules, and the black-hole.
On the other hand, the increase of
political liberty, the abolition of laws
restricting individual action, and the
amelioration of the criminal code, have
been accompanied by a kindred progress
towards non-coercive education: the pupil
is hampered by fewer restraints, and other
means than punishments are used to
govern him.
In those ascetic days
when men, acting on the greatest-misery
principle, held that the more gratifications
they denied themselves the more virtuous
they were, they, as a matter of course,
considered that the best education which
most thwarted the wishes of their children,
and cut short all spontaneous activity
with—“You mustn’t do so.” While,
on the contrary, now that happiness is
41
coming to be regarded as a legitimate
aim—now that hours of labour are beine;
shortened and popular recreations pro
vided; parents and teachers are beginning
to see that most childish desires may
rightly be gratified, that childish sports
should be encouraged, and that the
tendencies of the growing mind are not
altogether so diabolical as was supposed.
The age in which all believed that trades
must be established by bounties and
prohibitions ; that manufacturers needed
their materials and qualities and prices
to be prescribed ; and that the value of
money could be determined by law;
was an age which unavoidably cherished
the notions that a child’s mind could be
made to order ; that its powers were to
be imparted by the schoolmaster; that
it was a receptacle into which knowledge
was to be put, and there built up after
the teacher’s ideal. In this free-trade
era, however, when we are learning that
there is much more self-regulation ' in
things than was supposed ; that labour,
and commerce, and agriculture, and
navigation, can do better without manage
ment than with it ; that political govern
ments, to be efficient, must grow up from
within and not be imposed from without ;
we are also being taught that there is a
natural process of mental evolution which
is not to be disturbed without injury;
that we may not force on the unfolding
mind our artificial forms ; but that
psychology, also, discloses to us a law
of supply and demand, to which, if we
would not do harm, we must conform.
Thus, alike in its oracular dogmatism, in
its harsh discipline, in its multiplied
restrictions, in its professed asceticism,
and in its faith in the devices of men,
the old educational regime was akin to
the social systems with which it was
contemporaneous ; and similarly in the
reverse of these characteristics, our modern
�42
EDUCATION
Erodes of culture correspond to our more
liberal religious and political institutions.
But there remain further parallelisms
to which we have not yet adverted : that,
namely, between the processes by which
these respective changes have been
wrought out; and that between the
several states of heterogeneous opinion
to which they have led. Some centuries
ago there was uniformity of belief —religious, political, and educational.
All men were Romanists, all were
Monarchists, all were disciples of
Aristotle; and no one thought of calling
in question that grammar-school routine
under which all were brought up. The
same agency has in each case replaced
this uniformity by a constantly-increasing
diversity. That tendency towards asser
tion of the individuality, which, after
contributing to produce the great Pro
testant movement, has since gone on to
produce an ever-increasing number of
sects — that tendency which initiated
political parties, and out of the two
primary ones has, in these modern days,
evolved a multiplicity to which every
year adds—that tendency which led to
the Baconian rebellion against the schools,
and has since originated here and abroad,
sundry new systems of thought—is a
tendency which, in education also, has
caused divisions and the accumulation
of methods. As external consequences
of the same internal change, these
processes have necessarily been more
or less simultaneous. The decline of
authority, whether papal, philosophic,
kingly, or tutoral, is essentially one
phenomenon; in each of its aspects a
leaning towards free action is seen alike
in the working out of the change itself,
and in the new forms of theory and prac
tice to which the change has given birth.
While many will regret this multiplica
tion of schemes of juvenile culture, the
catholic observer will discern in it a
means of ensuring the final establishment
of a rational system. Whatever may be
thought of theological dissent, it is clear
that dissent in education results in
facilitating inquiry by the division in
labour. Were we in possession of the
true method, divergence from it would,
of course, be prejudicial; but the
true method having to be found, the
efforts of numerous independent seekers
carrying out their researches in different
directions, constitute a better agency for
finding it than any that could be devised.
Each of them struck by some new thought
which probably contains more or less of
basis in facts—each of them zealous on
behalf of his plan, fertile in expedients
to test its correctness, and untiring in
his efforts to make known its success—
each of them merciless in his criticism
on the rest; there cannot fail, by compo
sition of forces, to be a gradual approxi
mation of all towards the right course.
Whatever portion of the normal method
any one has discovered, must, by the
constant exhibition of its results, force
itself into adoption; whatever wrong
practices he has joined with it must, by
repeated experiment and failure, be
exploded. And by this aggregation of
truths and elimination of errors, there
must eventually be developed a correct
and complete body of doctrine. Of the
three phases through which human
opinion passes—the unanimity of the
ignorant, the disagreement of the in
quiring, and the unanimity of the wise—
it is manifest that the second is the
parent of the third. They are not se
quences in time only, they are sequences
in causation.
However impatiently,
therefore, we may witness the present
conflict of educational systems, and how
ever much we may regret its accompany
ing evils, we must recognise it as a
�INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION '
transition stage needful to be passed
through, and beneficent in its ultimate
effects.
Meanwhile, may we not advantageously
take stock of our progress ? After fifty
years of discussion, experiment, and
comparison of results, may we not expect
a few steps towards the goal to be already
made good? Some old methods must
by this time have fallen out of use; some
new ones must have become established;
and many others must be in process
of general abandonment' or adoption.
Probably we may see in these various
changes, when put side by side, similar
characteristics—may find in them a
common tendency; and so, by inference,
may get a clue to the direction in which
experience is leading us, and gather
hints how we may achieve yet further
improvements. Let us then, as a pre
liminary to a deeper consideration of the
matter, glance at the leading contrasts
between the education of the past and
that of the present.
The suppression of every error is
commonly followed by a temporary
ascendency of the contrary one ; and so
it happened, that after the ages when
physical development alone was aimed
at, there came an age when culture of
the mind was the sole solicitude—when
children had lesson-books put before
them at between two and three years
old, and the getting of knowledge was
thought the one thing needful. As,
further, it usually happens that after one
of these reactions the next advance is
achieved by co-ordinating the antagonist
errors, and perceiving that they are
opposite sides of one truth; so, we are
now coming to the conviction that body
and mind must both be cared for, and
the whole being unfolded. The forcing
system has been by many given up; and
43
precocity is discouraged.
People are
beginning to see that the first requisite
to success in life is to be a good animal.
The best brain is found of little service,
if there be not enough vital energy to
work it; and hence to obtain the one
by sacrificing the source of the other, is
now considered a folly—a folly which
the eventual failure of juvenile prodigies
constantly illustrates.
Thus we are
discovering the wisdom of the saying,
that one secret in education is “ to know
how wisely to lose time.”
The once universal practice of learning
by rote is daily falling into discredit.
All modern authorities condemn the
old mechanical way of teaching the
alphabet. The multiplication table is
now frequently taught experimentally.
In the acquirement of languages, the
grammar-school plan is being superseded
by plans based on the spontaneous
process followed by the child in gaining
its mother tongue.
Describing the
methods there used, the Reports on the
Training School at Battersea say :—
“The instruction in the whole pre
paratory course is chiefly oral, and is
illustrated as much as possible by
appeals to nature.” And so throughout.
The rote-system, like all other systems
of its age, made more of the forms and
symbols than of the things symbolised.
To repeat the words correctly was every
thing ; to understand their meaning,
nothing; and thus the spirit was sacrificed
to the letter. It is at length perceived
that, in this case as in others, such a
result is not accidental but necessary—
that in proportion as there is attention
to the signs, there must be inattention
to the things signified; or that, as
Montaigne long ago said—S^avoir par
coeur n’est pas s^avoir.
Along with rote-teaching, is declining
also the nearly-allied teaching by rules.
�44
EDUCATION
The particulars first, and then the
generalisations, is the new method—a
method, as the Battersea School Reports
remark, which, though “the reverse of
the method usually followed, which con
sists in giving the pupil the rule first,” is
yet proved by experience to be the right
one. Rule-teaching is now condemned
as imparting a merely empirical know
ledge—as producing an appearance of
understanding without the reality. To
give the net product of inquiry, without
the inquiry that leads to it, is found to
be both enervating and inefficient.
General truths to be of due and per
manent use, must be earned. “ Easy
come easy go,” is a saying as applicable
to knowledge as to wealth. While rules,
lying isolated in the mind—not joined to
its other contents as out-growths from
them—are continually forgotten; the
principles which those rules express
piecemeal, become, when once reached
by the understanding, enduring posses
sions. While the rule-taught youth is at
sea when beyond his rules, the youth
instructed in principles solves a new
case as readily as an old one. Between
a mind of rules and a mind of principles,
there exists a difference such as that
between a confused heap of materials,
and the same materials organised into a
complete whole, with all its parts bound
together. Of which types this last has
not only the advantage that its con
stituent parts are better retained, but the
much greater advantage that it forms an
efficient agent for inquiry, for indepen
dent thought, for discovery—ends for
which the first is useless. Nor let it be
supposed that this is a simile only : it is
the literal truth. The union of facts
into generalisations is the organisation
of knowledge, whether considered as an
objective phenomenon or a subjective
one; and the mental grasp may be
measured by the extent to which this
organisation is carried.
From the substitution of principles for
rules, and the necessarily co-ordinate
practice of leaving abstractions untaught
till the mind has been familiarised with
the facts from which they are abstracted,
has resulted the postponement of some
once early studies to a late period. This
is exemplified in the abandonment of
that intensely stupid custom, the teach
ing of grammar to children. As M.
Marcel says :—“ It may without hesita
tion be affirmed that grammar is not
the stepping-stone, but the finishing
instrument.” As Mr. Wyse argues:—
“Grammar and Syntax are a collection
of laws and rules. Rules are gathered
from practice; they are the results of
induction to which we come by long
observation and comparison of facts. It
is, in fine, the science, the philosophy of
language. In following the process of
nature, neither individuals nor nations
ever arrive at the science first. A
language is spoken, and poetry written,
many years before either a grammar or
prosody is even thought of. Men did
not wait till Aristotle had constructed
his logic, to reason.” In short, as
grammar was made after language, so
ought it to be taught after language : an
inference which all who recognise the
relationship between the evolution of the
race and that of the individual, will see
to be unavoidable.
Of new practices that have grown up
during the decline of these old ones, the
most important is the systematic culture
of the powers of observation. After long
ages of blindness, men are at last seeing
that the spontaneous activity of the
observing faculties in children, has a
meaning and a use. What was once
thought mere purposeless action, or play,
or mischief, as the case might be, is now
�INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION
recognised as the process of acquiring a
knowledge on which all after-knowledge
is based. Hence the well-conceived but
ill-conducted system of object-lessons.
The saying of Bacon, that physics is the
mother of the sciences, has come to have
a meaning in education. Without an
accurate acquaintance with the visible
and tangible properties of things, our
conceptions must be erroneous, our
inferences fallacious, and our operations
unsuccessful. “ The education of the
senses neglected, all after education
partakes of a drowsiness, a haziness, an
insufficiency which it is impossible to
cure.” Indeed, if we consider it, we
shall find that exhaustive observation is
an element in all great success. It is
not to artists, naturalists, and men of
science only, that it is needful; it is not
only that the physician depends on it for
the correctness of his diagnosis, and that
to the engineer it is so important that
some years in the workshop are pre
scribed to him ; but we may see that the
philosopher, also, is fundamentally one
who observes relationships of things which
others had overlooked, and that the
poet, too, is one who sees the fine facts
in nature which all recognise when
pointed out, but did not before remark.
Nothing requires more to be insisted on
than that vivid and complete impressions
are all-essential. No sound fabric of
wisdom can be woven out of a rotten
raw material.
While the old method of presenting •
truths in the abstract has been falling
out of use, there has been a correspond
ing adoption of the new method of
presenting them in the concrete. The
rudimentary facts of exact science are
now being learnt by direct intuition, as
textures, and tastes, and colours are
learnt. Employing the ball-frame for
first lessons in arithmetic, exemplifies
45
this. It is well illustrated, too, in Pro
fessor De Morgan’s mode of explaining
the decimal notation. M. Marcel, rightly
repudiating the old system of tables,
teaches weights and measures by refer
ring to the actual yard and foot, pound
and ounce, gallon and quart; and lets
the discovery of their relationships be
experimental. The use of geographical
models and models of the regular bodies,
etc., as introductory to geography and
geometry respectively, are facts of the
same class. Manifestly, a common trait
of these methods is, that they carry each
child’s mind through a process like that
which the mind of humanity at large has
gone through. The truths of number, of
form, of relationship in position, were all
originally drawn from objects; and to
present these truths to the child in the
concrete, is to let him learn them as the
race learnt them. By and by, perhaps,
it will be seen that he cannot possibly
learn them in any other way; for that if
he is made to repeat them as abstrac
tions, the abstractions can have no
meaning for him, until he finds that they
are simply statements of what he intui
tively discerns.
But of all the changes taking place,
the most significant is the growing desire
to make the acquirement of knowledge
pleasurable rather than painful—a desire
based on the more or less distinct per
ception, that at each age the intellectual
action which a child likes is a healthy
one for it; and conversely. There is a
spreading opinion that the rise of an
appetite for any kind of information,
implies that the unfolding mind has
become fit to assimilate it, and needs it
for purposes of growth ; and that, on the
other hand, the disgust felt towards such
information is a sign either that it is
prematurely presented, or that it is pre
sented in an indigestible form. Hence
�46
EDUCATION
the efforts to make early education
amusing, and all education interesting.
Hence the lectures on the value of play.
Hence the defence of nursery rhymes
and fairy tales. Daily we more and
more conform our plans to juvenile
opinion. Does the child like this or
that kind kind of teaching?—does he
take to it ? we constantly ask. “ His
natural desire of variety should be in
dulged,” says M. Marcel; “and the grati
fication of his curiosity should be com
bined with his improvement.” “Lessons,”
he again remarks, “should cease before
the child evinces symptoms of weariness.”
And so with later education.
Short
breaks during school-hours, excursions
into the country, amusing lectures, choral
songs—in these and many like traits,
the change may be discerned. Asceti
cism is disappearing out of education as
out of life; and the usual test of political
legislation—its tendency to promote
happiness—is beginning to be, in a great
degree, the test of legislation for the
school and the nursery. What now is
the common characteristic of these
several changes ? Is it not an increas
ing conformity to the methods of
Nature ? The relinquishment of early
forcing, against which Nature rebels, and
the leaving of the first years for exercise
of the limbs and senses, show this.
The superseding of rote-learnt lessons
by lessons orally and experimentally
given, like those of the field and play
ground, shows this. The disuse of rule
teaching, and the adoption of teaching
by principles—that is, the leaving of
generalisations until there are particulars
to base them on—show this. The sys
tem of object-lessons shows this. The
teaching of the rudiments of science in
the concrete instead of the abstract,
shows this. And above all, this ten
dency is shown in the variously-directed
efforts to present knowledge in attractive
forms, and so to make the acquirement
of it pleasurable. For, as it is the order
of Nature in all creatures that the grati
fication accompanying the fulfilment of
needful functions serves as a stimulus to
their fulfilment—as, during the self-edu
cation of the young child, the delight
taken in the biting of corals and the
pulling to pieces of toys, becomes the
prompter to actions which teach it the
properties of matter; it follows that, in
choosing the succession of subjects and
the modes of instruction which most
interest the pupil, we are fulfilling
Nature’s behests, adjusting our proceed
ings to the laws of life.
Thus, then, we are on the highway
towards the doctrine long ago enunciated
by Pestalozzi, that alike in its order and
its methods, education must conform to
the natural process of mental evolution
—that there is a certain sequence in
which the faculties spontaneously develop,
and a certain kind of knowledge which
each requires during its development;
and that it is for us to ascertain this
sequence, and supply this knowledge.
All the improvements above alluded to
are partial applications of this general
principle. A nebulous perception of it
now prevails among teachers; and it is
daily more insisted on in educational
works. “ The method of nature is the
archetype of all methods,” says M.
Marcel. “ The vital principle in the
pursuit is to enable the pupil rightly to
instruct himself,” writes Mr. Wyse. The
more science familiarises us with the
constitution of things, the more do we
see in them an inherent self-sufficingness.
A higher knowledge tends continually to
limit our interference with the processes
of life. As in medicine the old “ heroic
treatment ” has given place to mild treat
ment, and often no treatment save a
�INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION
normal regimen—as we have found that
it is not needful to mould bodies of
babes by bandaging them in papoosefashiun or otherwise—as in gaols it is
being discovered that no cunninglydevised discipline of ours is so efficient
in producing reformation as the natural
discipline of self-maintenance by produc
tive labour ; so in education, we are
finding that success is to be achieved
only by making our measures subservient
to that spontaneous unfolding which all
minds go through in their progress to
maturity.
Of course, this fundamental principle
of tuition, that the arrangement of matter
and method must correspond with the
order of evolution and mode of activity
of the faculties—a principle so obviously
true, that once stated it seems almost
self-evident—has never been wholly dis
regarded. Teachers have unavoidably
made their school-courses coincide with
it in some degree, for the simple reason
that education is possible only on that
condition. Boys were never taught the
rule-of-three until they had learnt addi
tion. They were not set to write
exercises before they had got into their
copy-books. Conic sections have always
been preceded by Euclid. But the error
of the old methods consists in this, that
they do not recognise in detail what they
are obliged to recognise in general.
Yet the principle applies throughout.
If from the time when a child is able
to conceive two things as related in
position, years must elapse before it can
form a true concept of the Earth, as a
sphere made up of land and sea, covered
with mountains, forests, rivers, and cities,
revolving on its axis, and sweeping round
the Sun—if it gets from the one concept
to the other by degrees—if the inter
mediate concepts which it forms are
consecutively larger and more compli
47
cated ; is it not manifest that there is a
general succession through which alone
it can pass; that each larger concept is
made by the combination of smaller
ones, and presupposes them ; and that
to present any of these compound con
cepts before the child is in possession of
its constituent ones, is only less absurd
than to present the final concept of the
series before the initial one. In the
mastering of every subject some course
of increasingly complex ideas has to be
gone through. The evolution of the
corresponding faculties consists in the
assimilation of these; which, in any
true sense, is impossible without they
are put into the mind in the normal
order. And when this order is not
followed, the result is, that they are
received with apathy or disgust; and
that unless the pupil is intelligent enough
eventually to fill up the gaps himself,
they lie in his memory as dead facts,
capable of being turned to little or no
use.
“ But why trouble ourselves about any
curriculum at all ?” it may be asked. “ If
it be true that the mind like the body
has a predetermined course of evolution
—if it unfolds spontaneously—if its
successive desires for this or that kind
of information arise when these are
severally required for its nutrition—if
there thus exists in itself a prompter to
the right species of activity at the right
time; why interfere in any way ? Why
not leave children wholly to the discipline
of nature?—why not remain quite pas
sive and let them get knowledge as they
best can ?—why not be consistent
throughout ?” This is an awkwardlooking question. Plausibly implying
as it does, that a system of complete
laissez-faire is the logical outcome of the
doctrines set forth, it seems to furnish a
disproof of them by reductio ad absurdum.
�48
EDUCATION
In truth, however, they do not, when
rightly understood, commit us to any
such untenable position. A glance at
the physical analogies will clearly show
this. It is a general law of life tha the
t
*
more complex the organism to be pro
duced, the longer the period during
which it is dependent on a parent
organism for food and protection. The
difference between the minute, rapidlyformed, and self-moving spore of a
conferva, and the slowly-developed seed
of a tree, with its multiplied envelopes
and large stock of nutriment laid by to
nourish the germ during its first stages
of growth, illustrates this law in its
application to the vegetal world. Among
anirrials we may trace it in a series of
contrasts from the monad whose spon
taneously-divided halves are as selfsufficing the moment after their separa
tion as was the original whole; up to
man, whose offspring not only passes
through a protracted gestation, and
subsequently long depends on the breast
for sustenance; but after that must have
its food artificially administered; must,
when it has learned to feed itself, con
tinue to have bread, clothing, and shelter
provided; and does not acquire the
power of complete self-support until a
time varying from fifteen to twenty years
after its birth. Now this law applies to
the mind as to the body. For mental
pabulum also, every higher creature, and
especially man, is at first dependent on
adult aid. Lacking the ability to move
about, the babe is almost as powerless
to get materials on which to exercise its
perceptions as it is to get supplies for its
stomach. Unable to prepare its own
food, it is in like manner unable to reduce
many kinds of knowledge to a fit form
for assimilation. The language through
which all higher truths are to be gained,
it wholly derives from those surrounding
it. And we see in such an example as
the Wild Boy of Aveyron, the arrest of
development that results when no help
is received from parents and nurses.
Thus, in providing from day to day the
right kind of facts, prepared in the right
manner, and giving them in due abun
dance at appropriate intervals, there is
as much scope for active ministration to
a child’s mind as to its body. In either
case, it is the chief function of parents
to see that the conditions requisite to
growth are maintained. And as, in
supplying aliment, and clothing, and
shelter, they may fulfil this function
without at all interfering with the spon
taneous development of the limbs and
viscera, either in their order or mode;
so, they may supply sounds for imitation,
objects for examination, books for read
ing, problems for solution, and, if they
use neither direct nor indirect coercion,
may do this without in any way disturbing
the normal process of mental evolution;
or rather, may greatly facilitate that
process. Hence the admission of the
doctrines enunciated does not, as some
might argue, involve the abandonment
of teaching; but leaves ample room
for an active and elabcrate course of
culture.
Passing from generalities to special
considerations, it is to be remarked that
in practice, the Pestalozzian system
seems scarcely to have fulfilled the
promise of its theory. We hear of
children not at all interested in its
lessons,—disgusted with them rather ;
and, so far as we can gather, the Pesta
lozzian schools have not turned out any
unusual proportion of distinguished men:
if even they have reached the average.
We are not surprised at this. The
success of every appliance depends
mainly upon the intelligence with which
�INTELLECTUAL ED UCA TION
it is used, it is a trite remark that,
having the choicest tools, an unskilled
artisan will botch his work; and bad
teachers will fail even with the best
methods. Indeed, the goodness of the
method becomes in such case a cause
of failure; as, to continue the simile,
the perfection of the tool becomes in
undisciplined hands a source of imper
fection in results. A simple, unchanging,
almost mechanical routine of tuition,
may be carried out by the commonest
intellects, with such small beneficial
effect as it is capable of producing; but
a complete system—a system as hetero
geneous in its appliances as the mind in
its faculties—a system proposing a special
means for each special end, demands
for its right employment powers such as
few teachers possess. The mistress of
a dame-school can hear spelling-lessons ;
and any hedge-schoolmaster can drill
boys in the multiplication table. But to
teach spelling rightly, by using the
powers of the letters instead of their
names, or to instruct in numerical com
binations by experimental synthesis, a
modicum of understanding is needful;
and to pursue a like rational course
throughout the entire range of studies,
asks an amount of judgment, of invention,
of intellectual sympathy, of analytical
faculty, which we shall never see applied
to it while the tutorial office is held in
such small esteem. Tjue education is
practicable only by a true philosopher.
J udge then, what prospect a philosophical
method now has of being acted out!
Knowing so little as we yet do of psycho
logy, and ignorant as our teachers are of
that little, what chance has a system
which requires psychology for its basis ?
Further hindrance and discouragement
has arisen from confounding the Pestalozzian principle with the forms in which
it has been embodied. Because particular
49
plans have not answered expectation,
discredit has been cast upon the doctrine
associated with them : no inquiry being
made whether these plans truly conform
to the doctrine. Judging as usual by
the concrete rather than the abstract,
men have blamed the theory for the
bunglings of the practice. It is as though
the first futile attempt to construct a
steam-engine had been held to prove
that steam could not be used as a motive
power. Let it be constantly borne in
mind that while right in his fundamental
ideas, Pestalozzi was not therefore right
in all his applications of them. As
described even by his admirers, Pesta
lozzi was a man of partial intuitions—a
man who had occasional flashes of
insight; rather than a man of systematic
thought.
His first great success at
Stantz was achieved when he had no
books or appliances of ordinary teaching,
and when “ the only object of his atten
tion was to find out at each moment
what instruction his children stood pecu
liarly in need of, and what was the best
manner of connecting it with the know
ledge they already possessed.” Much
of his power was due, not to calmly
reasoned-out plans of culture, but to his
profound sympathy, which gave him a
quick perception of childish needs and
difficulties. He lacked the ability
logically to co-ordinate and develop the
truths which he thus from time to time
laid hold of; and had in great measure
to leave this to his assistants, Kruesi,
Tobler, Buss, Niederer, and Schmid.
The result is, that in their details his
own plans, and those vicariously devised,
contain numerous crudities and incon
sistencies. His nursery-method, described
in The Mother’s Manual, beginning as
it does with a nomenclature of the
different parts of the body, and pro
ceeding next to specify their relative
�50
EDUCATION
positions, and next their connections,
. may be proved not at all in accordance
with the initial stages of mental evolu
tion.
His process of teaching the
mother-tongue by formal exercises in
the meanings of words in the construc
tion of sentences, is quite needless, and
must entail on the pupil loss of time,
labour and happiness. His proposed
lessons in geography are utterly unpesta$ lozzian. And often where his plans are
essentially sound, they are either incom
plete or vitiated by some remnant of
the old regime. While, therefore, we
would defend in its entire extent the
general doctrine which Pestalozzi inaugu
rated, we think great evil likely to result
from an uncritical reception of his
specific methods. That tendency, con
stantly exhibited by mankind, to canonise
the forms and practices along with which
any great truth has been bequeathed to
them—their liability to prostrate their
intellects before the prophet, and swear
by his every word—their proneness to
mistake the clothing of the idea for the
idea itself ; renders it ne'edful to insist
strongly upon the distinction between
the fundamental principle of the Pestalozzian system, and the set of expedients
devised for its practice ; and to suggest
that while the one may be considered as
established, the other is probably nothing
but an adumbration of the normal
course. Indeed, on looking at the state
of our knowledge, we may be quite sure
that this is the case. Before educational
methods can be made to harmonise in
character and arrangement with the
faculties in their mode and order of
unfolding, it is first needful that we
ascertain with some completeness how
the faculties do unfold. At present we
have acquired, on this point, only a few
general notions. These general notions
must be developed in detail—must be
transformed into a multitude of specific
propositions, before we can be said to
possess that science on which the art of
education must be based. And then,
when we have definitely made out in
what succession and in what combina
tions the mental powers become active,
it remains to choose out of the many
possible- ways of exercising each of
them, that which best conforms to its
natural mode of action.
Evidently,
therefore, it is not to be supposed that
even our most advanced modes of
teaching are the right ones, or nearly the
right ones.
Bearing in mind then this distinction
between the principle and the practice
of Pestalozzi, and inferring from the
grounds assigned that the last must
necessarily be very defective, the reader
will rate at its true worth the dissatisfac
tion with the system which some have
expressed; and will see that the realisa
tion of the Pestalozzian idea remains to
be achieved. Should he argue, however,
from what has just been said, that no
such realisation is at present practicable,
and that all effort ought to be devoted
to the preliminary inquiry; we reply,
that though it is not possible for a
scheme of culture to be perfected either
in matter or form until a rational psycho
logy has been established, it is possible,
with the aid of certain guiding prin
ciples, to make empirical approximations
towards a perfect scheme. To prepare
the way for further research we will now
specify these principles. Some of them
have been more or less distinctly implied
in the foregoing pages; but it will be
well here to state them all in logical
order.
i. That in education we should pro
ceed from the simple to the complex, is
a truth which has always been to some
�INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION
extent acted upon : not professedly,
indeed, nor by any means consistently.
The mind develops. Like all things
that develop it progresses from the
homogeneous to the heterogeneous ; and
a normal training system, being an
objective counterpart of this subjective
process, must exhibit a like progression.
Moreover thus interpreting it, we may
see that this formula has much wider
applications than at first appears. For
its rationale involves, not only that we
should proceed from the single to the
combined in the teaching of each branch
of knowledge; but that we should do
the like with knowledge as a whole. As
the mind, consisting at first of but few
active faculties, has its later-completed
faculties successively brought into play,
and ultimately comes to have all its
faculties in simultaneous action; it
follows that our teaching should begin
with but few subjects at once, and suc
cessively adding to these, should finally
carry on all subjects abreast. Not only
in its details should education proceed
from the simple to the complex, but in
its ensemble also.
2.The development of the mind, as
all other development, is an advance
from the indefinite to the definite. In
common with the rest of the organism,
the brain reaches its finished structure
only at maturity; and in proportion as
its structure is unfinished, its actions are
wanting in precision. Hence like the
first movements and the first attempts
at speech, the first perceptions and
thoughts are extremely vague. As from
a rudimentary eye, discerning only the
difference between light and darkness,
the progress is to an eye that distinguishes
kinds and gradations of colour, and
details of form, with the greatest exact
ness ; so, the intellect as a whole and in
each faculty, beginning with the rudest
discriminations among objects and
actions, advances towards discrimina
tions of increasing nicety and distinct
ness. To this general law our educa
tional course and methods must conform.
It is not practicable, nor would it be
desirable if practicable, to put precise
ideas into the undeveloped mind. We
may indeed at an early age communicate
the verbal forms in which such ideas are
wrapped up; and teachers, who habitually
do this, suppose that when the verbal
forms have been correctly learnt, the
ideas which should fill them have been
acquired. But a brief cross-examination
of the pupil proves the contrary. It
turns out either that the words have
been committed to memory with little
or no thought about their meaning, or
else that the perception of their meaning
which has been gained is a very cloudy
one. Only as the multiplication of
experiences gives materials for definite
conceptions—only as observation year
by year discloses the less conspicuous
attributes which distinguish things and
processes previously confounded together
—only as each class of co-enstences
and sequences becomes familiar through
the recurrence of cases coming under it
—only as the various classes of relations
get accurately marked off from each
other by mutual limitation; can the
exact definitions of advanced knowledge
become truly comprehensible. Thus in
education we must be content to set out
with crude notions. These we must aim
to make gradually clearer by facilitating
the acquisition of experiences such as
will correct, first their greatest errors,
and afterwards their successively less
marked errors. And the scientific
formulae must be given only as fast as
the conceptions are perfected.
3. To say that our lessons ought to
start from the concrete and end in the
�52
EDUCATION
abstract, may be considered as in part a
repetition of the first of the foregoing
principles. Nevertheless it is a maxim
that must be stated: if with no other
view, then with the view of showing in
certain cases what are truly the simple
and the complex. For unfortunately
there has been much misunderstanding
on this point. General formulas which
men have devised to express groups of
details, and which have severally simpli
fied their conceptions by uniting many
facts into one fact, they have supposed
must simplify the conceptions of a child
also. They have forgotten that a
generalisation is simple only in com
parison with the whole mass of particular
truths it comprehends—that it is more
complex than any one of these truths
taken singly—that only after many of
these single truths have been acquired,
does the generalisation ease the memory
and help the reason—and that to a mind
not possessing these single truths it is
necessarily a mystery. Thus confounding
two kinds of simplification, teachers
have constantly erred by setting out
with “first principles”: a proceeding
essentially, though not apparently, at
variance with the primary rule; which
implies that the mind should be intro
duced to principles through the medium
of examples, and so should be led from
the particular to the general—from the
concrete to the abstract.
4. The education of the child must
accord both in mode and arrangement
with the education of mankind, con
sidered historically. In other words, the
genesis of knowledge in the individual,
must follow the same course as the
genesis of knowledge in the race. In
strictness, this principle may be con
sidered as already expressed by implica
tion ; since both being processes of
evolution, must conform to those same
general laws of evolution above insisted
on, and must therefore agree with each
other.
Nevertheless this particular
parallelism is of value for the specific
guidance it affords. To M. Comte we
believe society owes the enunciation of
it; and we may accept this item of his
philosophy without at all committing
ourselves to the rest. This doctrine
may be upheld by two reasons, quite
independent of any abstract theory;
and either of them sufficient to establish
it. One is deducible from the law of
hereditary transmission as considered in
its wider consequences. For if it be
true that men exhibit likeness to
ancestry, both in aspect and character—
if it be true that certain mental mani
festations, as insanity, occur in successive
members of the same family at the same
age—if, passing from individual cases in
which the traits of many dead ancestors
mixing with those of a few living ones
greatly obscure the law, we turn to
national types, and remark how the con
trasts between them are persistent from
age to age—if we remember that these
respective types came from a common
stock, and that hence the present marked
differences between them must have
arisen from the action of modifying
circumstances upon successive genera
tions who severally transmitted the
accumulated effects to their descendants
—if we find the differences to be now
organic, so that a French child grows
into a French man even when brought
up among strangers—and if the general
fact thus illustrated is true of the whole
nature, intellect inclusive; then it follows
that if there be an order in which the
human race has mastered its various
kinds of knowledge, there will arise in
every child an aptitude to acquire these
kinds of knowledge in the same order.
So that even were the order intrinsically
�INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION
indifferent, it would facilitate education
to lead the individual mind through the
steps traversed by the general mind. But
the order is not intrinsically indifferent;
and hence the fundamental reason why
education should be a repetition of
civilisation in little. It is provable both
that the historical sequence was, in its
main outlines, a necessary one; and that
the causes which determined it apply to
the child as to. the race. Not to specify
these causes in detail, it will suffice here
to point out that as the mind of humanity
placed in the midst of phenomena and
striving to comprehend them, has, after
endless comparisons, speculations, experi
ments, and theories, reached its present
knowledge of each subject by a specific
route; it may rationally be inferred that
the relationship between mind and phe
nomena is such as to prevent this know
ledge from being reached by any other
route; and that as each child’s mind
stands in this same relationship to phe
nomena, they can be accessible to it
oply through the same route. Hence in
deciding upon the right method of edu
cation, an inquiry into the method of
civilisation will help to guide us.
5. One of the conclusions to which
such an inquiry leads, is, that in each
branch of instruction we should proceed
from the empirical to the rational.
During human progress, every science
is evolved out of its corresponding art.
It results from the necessity we are
under, both individually and as a race,
of reaching the abstract by way of the
concrete, that there must be practice
and an accruing experience with its
empirical generalisations, before there
can be science. Science is organised
knowledge; and before knowledge can
be organised, some of it must be pos
sessed. Every study, therefore, should
have a purely experimental introduction ;
53
and only after an ample fund of observa
tions has been accumulated, should
reasoning begin. As illustrative appli
cations of this rule, we may instance the
modern course of placing grammar, not
before language, but after it; or the
ordinary custom of prefacing perspec
tive by practical drawing. By and by
further applications of it will be indi
cated.
6. A second corollary from the fore
going general principle, and one which
cannot be too strenuously insisted on, is,
that in education the process of self
development should be encouraged to
the uttermost. Children should be led
to make their own investigations, and to
draw their own inferences. They should
be told as little as possible, and induced
to discover as much as possible.
Humanity has progressed solely by self
instruction ; and that to achieve the
best results, each mind must progress
somewhat after the same fashion, is con
tinually proved by the marked success
of self-made men. Those who have
been brought up under the ordinary
school-drill, and have carried away with
them the idea that education is prac
ticable only in that style, will think it
hopeless to make children their own
teachers. If, however, they will consider
that the all-important knowledge of sur
rounding objects which a child gets in
its early years, is got without help—if
they will remember that the child is selftaught in the use of its mother tongue—
if they will estimate the amount of that
experience of life, that out-of-school
wisdom, which every boy gathers for
himself—if they will mark the unusual
intelligence of the uncared-for London
gamin, as shown in whatever directions
his faculties have been tasked—if, further,
they will think how many minds have
struggled up unaided, not only through
�54
■ EDUCATION
the mysteries of our irrationally-planned
curriculum, but through hosts of other
obstacles besides; they will find it a not
unreasonable conclusion, that if the
subjects be put before him in right
order and right form, any pupil of
ordinary capacity will surmount his suc
cessive difficulties with but little assis
tance. Who indeed can watch the cease
less observation, and inquiry, and infer
ence going on in a child’s mind, or listen
to its acute remarks on matters within the
range of its faculties, without perceiving
that these powers it manifests, if brought
to bear systematically upon studies within
the same range, would readily master
them without help ? This need for per
petual telling results from our stupidity,
not from the child’s. We drag it away
from the facts in which it is interested,
and which it is actively assimilating of
itself. We put before it facts far too
complex for it to understand; and there
fore distasteful to it. Finding that it
will not voluntarily acquire these facts,
we thrust them into its mind by force
of threats and punishment. By thus
denying the knowledge it craves, and
cramming it with knowledge it cannot
digest, we produce a morbid state of its
faculties; and a consequent disgust for
knowledge in general. And when, as a
result partly of the stolid indolence we
have brought on, and partly of stillcontinued unfitness in its studies, the
child can understand nothing without
explanation, and becomes a mere passive
recipient of our instruction, we infer
that education must necessarily be
carried on thus. Having by our method
induced helplessness, we make the help
lessness a reason for our method. Clearly
then, the experience of pedagogues
cannot rationally be quoted against the
system we are advocating. And who
ever sees this, will see that we may safely
follow the discipline of Nature through
out may, by a skilful ministration,
make the mind as self-developing in its
latter stages as it is in its earlier ones ;
and that only by doing this can we pro
duce the highest power and activity.
7. As a final test by which to judge
any plan of culture, should come the
question,—Does it create a pleasurable
excitement in the pupils ? When in
doubt whether a particular mode or
arrangement is or is not more in harmony
with the foregoing principles than some
other, we may safely abide by this cri
terion.
Even when, as considered
theoretically, the proposed course seems
the best, yet if it produces no interest,
or less interest than some other course,
we should relinquish it; for a child’s
intellectual instincts are more trustworthy
than our reasonings. In respect to the
knowing-faculties, we may confidently
trust in the general law, that under
normal conditions, healthful action is
pleasurable, while action which gives
pain is not healthful. Though at present
very incompletely conformed to by the
emotional nature, yet by the intellectual
nature, or at least by those parts of it
which the child exhibits, this law is
almost wholly conformed to. The re
pugnances to this and that study which
vex the ordinary teacher, are not innate,
but result from his unwise system.
Fellenberg says, “ Experience has taught
me that indolence in young persons is so
directly opposite to their natural dispo
sition to activity, that unless it is the
consequence of bad education, it is
almost invariably connected with some
constitutional defect.” And the spon
taneous activity to which children are
thus prone, is simply the pursuit of those
pleasures which the healthful exercise of
the faculties gives. It is true that some
of the higher mental powers, as yet but
�INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION
little developed in the race, and congeni
tally possessed in any considerable degree
only by the most advanced, are indis
posed to the amount of exertion required
of them.. But these, in virtue of their
very complexity, will, in a normal course
of culture, come last into exercise ; and
will therefore have no demands made on
them until the pupil has arrived at an
age when ulterior motives can be brought
into play, and an indirect pleasure made
to counterbalance a direct displeasure.
With all faculties lower than these, how
ever, the immediate gratification conse
quent on activity, is the normal stimulus ;
and under good management the only
needful stimulus. When we have to fall
back on some other, we must take the
fact as evidence that we are on the wrong
track. Experience is daily showing with
greater clearness, that there is always a
method to be found productive of interest
—even of delight; and it ever turns out
that this is the method proved by all
other tests to be the right one.
With most, these guiding principles
will weigh but'little if left in this abstract
form. Partly, therefore, to exemplify
their application, and partly with a view
of making sundry specific suggestions,
we propose now to pass from the theory
of education to the practice of it.
55
of unseen planets, the invention of calcu
lating engines, the production of great
paintings, or the composition of sym
phonies and operas. This activity of
the faculties from the very first, being
spontaneous and inevitable, the question
is whether we shall supply in due variety
the materials on which they may exer
cise themselves; and to the question so
put, none but an affirmative answer can
be given. As before said, however,
agreement with Pestalozzi’s theory does
not involve agreement with his practice ;
and here occurs a case in point. Treating
of instruction in spelling he says :
The spelling-book ought, therefore, to con
tain all the sounds of the language, and these
ought to be taught in every family from the
earliest infancy. The child who learns his
spelling-book ought to repeat them to the infant
in the cradle, before it is able to pronounce even
one of them, so that they may be deeply im
pressed upon its mind by frequent repetition.
Joining this with the suggestions for
“ a nursery method,” set down in his
Mother’s Manual, in which he makes the
names, positions, connections, numbers,
properties, and uses of the limbs and
body his first lessons, it becomes clear
that Pestalozzi’s notions on early mental
development were too crude to enable
him to devise judicious plans. Let us
consider the course which Psychology
dictates.
The earliest impressions which the
It was the opinion of Pestalozzi, and
one which has ever since his day been mind can assimilate, are the undecomgaining ground, that education of some posable sensations produced by resis
kind should begin from the cradle. tance, light, sound, etc. Manifestly,
Whoever has watched with any discern decomposable states of consciousness
ment, the wide-eyed gaze of the infant at cannot exist before the states of con
surrounding objects, knows very well that sciousness out of which they are com
education does begin thus early, whether posed. There can be no idea of form
we intend it or not; and that these until some familiarity with light in its
fingerings and suckings of everything it gradations and qualities, or resistance in
can lay hold of, these open-mouthed its different intensities, has been acquired;
listenings to every sound, are first steps for, as has been long known, we recognise
in the series which ends in the discovery visible form by means of varieties of light,
�56
EDUCATION
and tangible form by means of varieties of Nor let us omit the fact, that both
resistance. Similarly, no articulate sound
temper and health will be improved
is cognisable until the inarticulate sounds by the continual gratification resulting
which go to make it up have been learned. from a due supply of these impressions
And thus must it be in every other case. which every child so greedily assimilates.
Following, therefore, the necessary law Space, could it be spared, might here be
of progression from the simple to the well filled by some suggestions towards
complex, we should provide for the a more systematic ministration to those
infant a sufficiency of objects presenting simplest of the perceptions.
But it
different degrees and kinds of resistance,
must suffice to point out that any such
a sufficiency of objects reflecting different ministration, recognising the general law
amounts and qualities of light, and a of evolution from the indefinite to the
sufficiency of sounds contrasted in their definite, should proceed upon the corol
loudness, their pitch and their timbre. lary that in the development of every
How fully this à priori conclusion is faculty, markedly contrasted impressions
confirmed by infantile instincts, all will are the first to be distinguished; that
see on being reminded of the delight hence sounds greatly differing in loud
which every young child has in biting its ness and pitch, colours very remote from
toys, in feeling its brother’s bright jacket each other, and substances widely unlike
buttons, and pulling papa’s whiskers— in hardness or texture, should be the first
how absorbed it becomes in gazing at supplied; and that in each case the
any gaudily-painted object, to which it progression must be by slow degrees to
applies the word “ pretty,” when it can impressions more nearly allied.
pronounce it, wholly because of the bright
Passing on to object-lessons, which
colours and how its face broadens into manifestly form a natural continuation
a laugh at the tattlings of its nurse, the of this primary culture of the senses, it
snapping of a visitor’s fingers, or any is to be remarked, that the system com
- sound which it has not before heard. monly pursued is wholly at variance with
Fortunately, the ordinary practices of the the method of Nature, as exhibited alike
nursery fulfil these early requirements in infancy, in adult life, and in the course
. of education to a considerable degree. of civilisation. “The child,” says M.
Much, however, remains to be done; Marcel, “ must be shown how all the
and it is of more importance that it parts of an object are connected, etc.”;
should be done than at first appears. and the various manuals of these objectEvery faculty during that spontaneous lessons severally contain lists of the facts
activity which accompanies its evolution, which the child is to be told respecting
is capable of receiving more vivid im each of the things put before it. Now it
pressions than at any other period. needs but a glance at the daily life of the
Moreover, as these simplest elements infant to see that all the knowledge of
have to be mastered, and as the mastery things which is gained before the acquire
of them whenever achieved must take ment of speech, is self-gained—that the
time, it becomes an economy of time to qualities of hardness and weight asso
occupy this first stage of childhood,
ciated with certain appearances, the pos
during which no other intellectual action session of particular forms and colours
is possible, in gaining a complete famili by particular persons, the production of
arity with them in all their modifications.
special sounds by animals of special
�INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION
aspects, are phenomena which it observes
for itself. In manhood too, when there
are no longer teachers at hand, the obser
vations and inferences hourly required
for guidance, must be made unhelped ;
and success in life depends upon the
accuracy and completeness with which
they are made. Is it probable then, that
while the process displayed in the evolu
tion of humanity at large, is repeated
alike by the infant and the man, a
reverse process must be followed during
the period between infancy and man
hood ? and that too, even in so simple a
thing as learning the properties of objects?
Is it not obvious, on the contrary, that one
method must be pursued throughout ?
And is not Nature perpetually thrusting
this method upon us, if we had but the
wit to see it, and the humility to adopt
it? What can be more manifest than
the desire of children for intellectual
sympathy ? Mark how the infant sitting
on your knee thrusts into your face the
toy it holds, that you may look at it.
See when it makes a creak with its wet
finger on the table, how it turns and
looks at you ; does it again, and again
looks at you ; thus saying as clearly as it
can'—“ Hear this new sound.” Watch
the elder children coming into the
room exclaiming—“ Mamma, see what a
curious thing,” “ Mamma, look at this,”
“ Mamma, look at that ” : a habit which
they would continue, did not the silly
mamma tell them not to tease her.
Observe that, when out with the nursemaid, each little one runs up to her with
the new flower it has gathered, to show
her how pretty it is, and to get her also,
to say it is pretty. Listen to the eager
volubility with which every urchin
describes any novelty he has been to
see ; if only he can find some one who
will attend with any interest. Does not
the induction lie on the surface ? Is it
57
not clear that we must conform our
course to these intellectual instincts—that we must just systematise the natural
process—that we must listen to all the
child has to tell us about each object ;
must induce it to say everything it can
think of about suchobject; must occasion
ally draw its attention to facts it has not
yet observed, with the view of leading it to
notice them itself whenever they recur;
and must go on by and by to indicate or
supply new series of things for a like
exhaustive examination ? Note the way
in which, on this method, the intelligent
mother conducts her lessons. Step by
step she familiarises her little boy with
the names of the simpler attributes,
hardness, softness, colour, taste, size :
in doing which she finds him eagerly
help by bringing this to show her that it
is red, and the other to make her feel
that it is hard, as fast as she gives him
words for these properties. Each addi
tional property, as she draws his atten
tion to it in some fresh thing which he
brings her, she takes care to mention
in connection with those he already
knows ; so that by the natural tendency
to imitate, he may get into the habit of
repeating them one after another. Grad
ually as there occur cases in which he
omits to name one or more of the pro
perties he has become acquainted with,
she introduces the practice of asking him
whether there is not something more
that he can tell her about the thing he
has got. Probably he does not under
stand.
After letting him puzzle a
while she tells him ; perhaps laughing
at him a little for his failure. A few
recurrences of this and he perceives
what is to be done. When next she says
she knows something more about the
object than he has told her, his pride is
roused ; he looks at it intently ; he
thinks over all that he has heard ; and
�58
EDUCATION
the problem being easy, presently finds it with the intellectual appetites their
out. He is full of glee at his success, natural adjuncts—amour propre and the
and she sympathises with him.
In desire for sympathy; to induce by the
common with every child, he delights in union of all these an intensity of atten
the discovery of his powers. He wishes tion which insures perceptions both vivid
for more victories, and goes in quest of and complete; and to habituate the
more things about which to tell her. As mind from the beginning to that practice
his faculties unfold she adds quality after of self-help which it must ultimately
quality to his list: progressing from follow.
hardness and softness to roughness and
Object-lessons should not only be
smoothness, from colour to polish, from carried on after quite a different fashion
simple bodies to composite ones—thus
from that commonly pursued, but should
constantly complicating the problem as be extended to a range of things far
he gains competence, constantly taxing wider, and continued to a period far
his attention and memory to a greater later, than now. They should not be
extent, constantly maintaining his inte limited to the contents of the house;
rest by supplying him with new impres but should include those of the fields
sions such as his mind can assimilate,
and the hedges, the quarry and the sea
and constantly gratifying him by con shore. They should not cease with early
quests over such small difficulties as he childhood; but should be so kept up
can master. In doing this she is mani during youth, as insensibly to merge into
festly but following out that spontaneous the investigations of the naturalist and
process which was going on during a still the man of science. Here again we
earlier period—simply aiding self-evolu have but to follow Nature’s leadings.
tion; and is aiding it in the mode Where can be seen an intenser delight
suggested by the boy’s instinctive be than that of children picking up new
haviour to her.
Manifestly, too, the flowers and watching new insects; or
course she is adopting is the one best hoarding pebbles and shells ? And who
calculated to establish a habit of exhaus is there but perceives that by sympa
tive observation ; which is the professed thising with them they may be led on to
aim of these lessons. To tell a child any extent of inquiry into the qualities
this and to show it the other, is not and structures of these things? Every
to teach it how to observe, but to make botanist who has had children with him
it a mere recipient of another’s obser in the woods and lanes must have
vations : a proceeding which weakens noticed how eagerly they joined in his
rather than strengthens its powers of pursuits, how keenly they searched out
self-instruction—which deprives it of the plants for him, how intently they watched
pleasures resulting from successful activity while he examined them, how they over
—which presents this all-attractive know whelmed him with questions. The con-.
ledge under the aspect of formal tuition sistent follower of Bacon—the “servant
—and which thus generates that indif and interpreter of nature,” will see that
ference and even disgust not unfrequently we ought modestly to adopt the course
Having
felt towards these object-lessons. On of culture thus indicated.
the other hand, to pursue the course become familiar with the simpler pro
above described is simply tc guide the perties of inorganic objects, the child
should by the same process be led on to
intellect to its appropriate food; to join
�INTELLECTUAL EDUCA TION
an exhaustive examination of the things
it picks up in its daily walks—the less
complex facts they present being alone
noticed at first: in plants, the colours,
numbers, and forms of the petals, and
shapes of the stalks and leaves; in
Insects, the numbers of the wings, legs,
and antennae, and their colours. As
these become fully appreciated and
invariably observed, further facts may be
successively introduced : in the one case,
the numbers of stamens and pistils, the
forms of the flowers, whether radial or
bilateral in symmetry, the arrangement
and character of the leaves, whether
opposite or alternate, stalked or sessile,
smooth or hairy, serrated, toothed, or
crenate; in the other, the divisions of
the body, the segments of the abdomen,
the markings of the wings, the number
of joints in the legs, and the forms of
the smaller organs—the system pursued
throughout, being that of making it the
child’s ambition to say respecting every
thing it finds, all that can be said. Then
when a fit age has been reached, the
means of preserving these plants, which
have become so interesting in virtue of
the knowledge obtained of them, may
as a great favour be supplied; and
eventually, as a still greater favour, may
also be supplied the apparatus needful
for keeping the larvae of our common
butterflies and moths through their trans
formations—a practice which, as we
can personally testify, yields the highest
gratification; is continued with ardour
for years; when joined with the entomo
logical collection, adds immense interest
to Saturday-afternoon rambles; and
forms an admirable introduction to the
study of physiology.
We are quite prepared to hear from
many that all this is throwing away time
and energy ; and that children would be
much better occupied in writing their
59
copies or learning their pence-tables, and
so fitting themselves for the business of
life. We regret that such crude ideas of
what constitutes education, and such a
narrow conception of utility, should still
be prevalent. Saying nothing on the
need for a systematic culture of the per
ceptions and the value of the practices
above inculcated as subserving that need,
we are prepared to defend them even on
the score of the knowledge gained. If
men are to be mere cits, mere porers
over ledgers, with no ideas beyond their
trades—if it is well that they should be
as the cockney whose conception of rural
pleasures extends no further than sitting
in a tea-garden smoking pipes and
drinking porter; or as the squire who
thinks of woods as places for shooting
in, of uncultivated plants as nothing but
weeds, and who classifies animals into
game, vermin, and stock—then indeed
it is needless to learn any thing that does
not directly help to replenish the till and
fill the larder. But if there is a more
worthy aim for us than to be drudges—
if there are other uses in the things
around us than their power to bring
money—if there are higher faculties to
be exercised than acquisitive and sensual
ones—if the pleasures which poetry and
art and science and philosophy can bring
are of any moment; then is it desirable
that the instinctive inclination which
every child shows to observe natural
beauties and investigate natural phe
nomena, should be encouraged. But
this gross utilitarianism which is content
to come into the world and quit it again
without knowing what kind of a world it
is or what it contains, may be met on its
own ground. It will by and by be found
that a knowledge of the laws of life
is more important than any other know
ledge whatever—that the laws of life
underlie not only all bodily and mental
�6o
EDUCATION
processes, but by implication all the
transactions of the house and the street,
all commerce, all politics, all morals—
and that therefore without a comprehen
sion of them, neither personal nor social
conduct can be rightly regulated. It
will eventually be seen to, that the laws
of life are essentially the same through
out the whole organic creation; and
further, that they cannot be properly
understood in their complex manifesta
tions until they have been studied in
their simpler ones. And when this is
seen, it will be also seen that in aiding
the child to acquire the out-of-door
information for which it shows so great
an avidity, and in encouraging the
acquisition of such information through
out youth, we are simply inducing it to
store up the raw material of future
organisation—the facts that will one
day bring home to it with due force,
those great generalisations of science by
which actions may be rightly guided.
The spreading recognition of drawing
as an element of education, is one
among many signs of the more rational
views on mental culture now beginning
to prevail.
Once more it may be
remarked that teachers are at length
adopting the course which Nature has
perpetually been pressing on their
notice.
The spontaneous attempts
made by children to represent the men,
houses, trees, and animals around them
—on a slate if they can get nothing
better, or with lead-pencil on paper if
they can beg them—are familiar to all.
To be shown through a picture-book is
one of their highest gratifications; and
as usual, their strong imitative tendency
presently generates in them the ambition
to make pictures themselves also. This
effort to depict the striking things they
see, is a further instinctive exercise of
the perceptions—a means whereby still
greater accuracy and completeness of
observation are induced. And alike by
trying to interest us in their discoveries
of the sensible properties of things, and
by their endeavours to draw, they solicit
from us just that kind of culture which
they most need.
Had teachers been guided by Nature’s
hints, not only in making drawing a part
of education but in choosing modes of
teaching it, they would have done still
better than they have done. What is
that the child first tries to represent ?
Things that are large, things that are
attractive in colour, things round which
its pleasurable associations most cluster
—human beings from whom it has
received so many emotions; cows and
dogs which interest by the many phe
nomena they present; houses that are
hourly visible and strike by their size
and contrast of parts. And which of
the processes of representation gives it
most delight? Colouring. Paper and
pencil are good in default of something
better; but a box of paints and a brush
—these are the treasures. The drawing
of outlines immediately becomes sec
ondary to colouring—-is gone through
mainly with a view to the colouring;
and if leave can be got to colour a book
of prints, how great is the favour!
Now, ridiculous as such a position will
seem to drawing-masters, who postpone
colouring and who teach form by a dreary
discipline of copying lines, we believe
that the course of culture thus indicated
is the right one. The priority of colour
to form, which, as already pointed out,
has a psychological basis, should be
recognised from the beginning; and
from the beginning also, the things
imitated should be real. That greater
delight m colour which is not only
conspicuous in children but persists in
most persons throughout life, should be
�INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION
continuously employed as the natural
stimulus to the mastery of the com
paratively difficult and unattractive form :
the pleasure of the subsequent tinting,
should be the prospective reward for the
labour of delineation. And these efforts
to represent interesting actualities, should
be encouraged; in the conviction that
as, by a widening experience, simpler
and more practicable objects become
interesting, they too will be attempted;
and that so a gradual approximation
will be made towards imitations having
some resemblance to the realities. The
extreme indeiiniteness which, in con
formity with the law of evolution, these
first attempts exhibit, is anything but
a reason for ignoring them. No matter
how grotesque the shapes produced;
no matter how daubed and glaring the
colours. The question is not whether
the child is producing good drawings.
The question is, whether it is developing
its faculties. It has first to gain some
command over its fingers, some crude
notions of likeness; and this practice is
better than any other for these ends,
since it is the spontaneous and interest
ing one. During early childhood no
formal drawing-lessons are possible.
Shall we therefore repress, or neglect to
aid, these efforts of self-culture ? or shall
we encourage and guide them as normal
exercises of the perceptions and the
powers of manipulation ? If by furnish
ing cheap woodcuts to be painted, and
simple contour-maps to have their boun
dary lines tinted, we can not only plea
surably draw out the faculty of colour,
but can incidentally produce some fami
liarity with the outlines of things and
countries, and some ability to move the
brush steadily; and if by the supply of
tempting objects we can keep up the
instinctive practice of making repre
sentations, however rough; it must hap
6j
pen that when the age for lessons in
drawing is reached, there will exist a
facility that would else have been absent.
Time will have been gained ; and trouble
both to teacher and pupil, saved.
From what has been said, it may be
readily inferred that we condemn the
practice of drawing from copies; and
still more so that formal discipline in
making straight lines and curved lines
and compound lines, with which it is the
fashion of some teachers to begin. We
regret that the Society of Arts has re
cently, in its series of manuals on “ Ru
dimentary Art-Instruction,” given its
countenance to an elementary drawing
book, which is the most vicious in prin
ciple that we have seen. We refer to
the “ Outline from Outline, or from the
Flat,” by John Bell, sculptor. As ex
plained in the prefatory note, this pub
lication proposes “ to place before the
student a simple, yet logical mode of
instruction”; and to this end sets out
with a number of definitions thus :—
“ A simple line in drawing is a thin mark
drawn from one point to another.
“ Lines may be divided, as to their nature in
drawing, into two classes:
“ i. Straight, which are marks that go the
shortest road between two points, as A B.
“ 2. Or Curved, which are marks which do
not go the shortest road between two points, as
C D.”
And so the introduction progresses to
horizontal lines, perpendicular lines,
oblique lines, angles of the several kinds,
and the various figures which lines and
angles make up. The work is, in short,
a grammar of form, with exercises. And
thus the system of commencing with a
dry analysis of elements, which, in the
teaching of language, has been exploded,
is to be re-instituted in the teaching of
drawing. We are to set out with the
definite, instead of with the indefinite.
The abstract is to be preliminary to the
�62
EDUCATION
concrete. Scientific conceptions are to
precede empirical experiences. That
this is an inversion of the normal order,
we need scarcely repeat. It has been
well said concerning the custom of pre
facing the art of speaking any tongue by
a drilling in the parts of speech and their
functions, that it is about as reasonable
as prefacing the art of walking by a
course of lessons on the bones, muscles,
and nerves of the legs; and much the
same thing may be said of the proposal
to preface the art of representing objects,
by a nomenclature and definitions of the
lines which they yield on analysis. These
technicalities are alike repulsive and
needless. They render the study dis
tasteful at the very outset; and all with
the view of teaching that which, in the
course of practice, will be learnt uncon
sciously. Just as the child incidentally
gathers the meanings of ordinary words
from the conversations going on around
it, without the help of dictionaries; so,
from the remarks on objects, pictures,
and its own drawings, will it presently
acquire, not only without effort but even
pleasurably, those same scientific terms
which, when taught at first, are a mystery
and a weariness.
If any dependence is to be placed on
the general principles of education that
have been laid down, the process of
learning to draw should be throughout
continuous with those efforts of early
childhood, described above as so worthy
of encouragement. By the time that the
voluntary practice thus initiated has
given some steadiness of hand, and some
tolerable ideas of proportion, there will
have arisen a vague notion of body as
presenting its three dimensions in per
spective. And when, after sundry abor
tive, Chinese-like attempts to render this
appearance on paper, there has grown up
a pretty clear perception of the thing to
be done, and a desire to do it, a first
lesson in empirical perspective may be
given by means of the apparatus occa
sionally used in explaining perspective as
a science. This sounds alarming; but
the experiment is both comprehensible
and interesting to any boy or girl of
ordinary intelligence. A.plate of glass
so framed as to stand vertically on the
table, being placed before the pupil, and
a book or like simple object laid on the
other side of it, he is requested, while
keeping the eye in one position, to make
ink-dots on the glass, so that they may
coincide with, or hide, the comers of
this object. He is next told to join
these dots by lines; on doing which he
perceives that the lines he makes hide,
or coincide with, the outlines of the
object. And then by putting a sheet
of paper on the other side of the glass,
it is made manifest to him that the lines
he has thus drawn represent the object
as he saw it. They not only look like it,
but he perceives that they must be like
it, because he made them agree with its
outlines; and by removing the paper he
can convince himself that they do agree
with its outlines. The fact is new and
striking; and serves him as an experi
mental demonstration, that lines of
certain lengths, placed in certain direc
tions on a plane, can represent lines of
other lengths, and having other direc
tions, in space. By gradually changing
the position of the object, he may be
led to observe how some lines shorten
and disappear, while others come into
sight and lengthen. The convergence
of parallel lines, and, indeed, all the
leading facts of perspective, may, from
time to time, be similarly illustrated
to him. If he has been duly accustomed
to self-help, he will gladly, when it is
suggested, attempt to draw one of these
outlines on paper, by the eye only; and
�INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION
it may soon be made an exciting aim to
produce unas^sted, a representation as
like as he can to one subsequently
sketched on the glass. Thus without
the unintelligent, mechanical practice of
copying other drawings, but by a method
at once simple and attractive—rational,
yet not abstract,—a familiarity with the
linear appearances of things, and a faculty
of rendering them, may be step by step
acquired. To which advantages add
these :—that even thus early the pupil
learns, almost unconsciously, the true
theory of a picture (namely, that it is a
delineation of objects as they appear
when projected on a plane placed between
them and the eye); and that when he
reaches a fit age for commencing scientific
perspective, he is already thoroughly
acquainted with the facts which form its
logical basis.
As exhibiting a rational mode of con
veying primary conceptions in geometry,
we cannot do better than quote the
following passage from Mr. Wyse :—
A child has been in the habit of using cubes
for arithmetic; let him use them also for the
elements of geometry. I would begin with
solids, the reverse of the usual plan. It saves
all the difficulty of absurd definitions, and bad
explanations on points, lines, and surfaces,
which are nothing but abstractions....... A cube
presents many of the principal elements of
geometry; it at once exhibits points, straight
lines, parallel lines, angels, parallelograms, &c.,
&c. These cubes are divisible into various parts.
The pupil has already been familiarised with
such divisions in numeration, and he now pro
ceeds to a comparison of their several parts,
and of the relation of these parts to each other.
....... From thence he advances to globes, which
furnish him with elementary notions of the circle,
of curves generally, &c., &c.
Being tolerably familiar with solids, he may
now substitute planes. The transition may be
made very easy. Let the cube, for instance, be
cut into thin divisions, and placed on paper ; he
will then see as many plane rectangles as he has
divisions ; so with all the others. Globes may
be treated in the same manner ; he will thus see
6.3
how surfaces really are generated, and be enabled
to abstract them with facility in every solid.
He has thus acquired the alphabet and reading
of geometry. He now proceeds to write it.
The simplest operation, and therefore the firstj
is merely to place these planes on a piece of
paper, and pass the pencil round them. When
this has been frequently done, the plane may be
put at a little distance, and the child required to
copy it, and so on.
*
A stock of geometrical conceptions
having been obtained, in some such
manner as this recommended by Mr.
Wyse, a further step may be taken, by
introducing the practice of testing the
correctness of figures drawn by eye:
thus both exciting an ambition to make
them exact, and continually illustrating
the difficulty of fulfilling that ambition.
There can be little doubt that geometry
had its origin (as, indeed, the word
implies) in the methods discovered by
artizans and others, of making accurate
measurements for the foundations of
buildings, areas of enclosures, and the
like; and that its truths came to be
treacured up, merely with a view to their
immediate utility. They should be im
troduced to the pupil under analogous
relationships. In cutting out pieces for
his card-houses, in drawing ornamental
diagrams for colouring, and in those
various instructive occupations which an
inventive teacher will lead him into, he
may for a length of time be advantage
ously left, like the primitive builder, to
tentative processes; and so will learn
through experience the difficulty of
achieving his aims by the unaided senses.
When, having meanwhile undergone a
valuable discipline of the perceptions,
he has reached a fit age for using a pair
of compasses, he will, while duly appre
ciating these as enabling him to verify
his ocular guesses, be still hindered by
the imperfections of the approximative
method. In this stage he may be left
�64
EDUCATION
for a further period : partly as being yet of these triangles may be drawn with
too young for anything higher; partly perfect correctness and without guessing;
because it is desirable that he should be and after his failure he will value the
made to feel still more strongly the want information. Having thus helped him
of systematic contrivances. If the acqui to the solution of the first problem, with
sition of knowledge is to be made con the view of illustrating the nature of
tinuously interesting; and if, in the early geometrical methods, he is in future to
civilisation of the child, as in the early be left to solve the questions put to him
civilisation of the race, science is valued as best he can. To bisect a line, to
only as ministering to art; it is manifest erect a perpendicular, to describe a
that the proper preliminary to geometry,
square, to bisect an angle, to draw a line
is a long practice in those constructive parallel to a given line, to describe a
processes, which geometry will facilitate.
hexagon, are problems which a little
Observe that here, too, Nature points patience will enable him to find out.
the way. Children show a strong pro And from these he may be led on step
pensity to cut out things in paper, to
by step to more complex questions : all
make, to build—a propensity which, if of which, under judicious management,
encouraged and directed, will not only he will puzzle through unhelped. Doubt
prepare the way for scientific conceptions,
less, many of those brought up under
but will develop those powers of mani the old régime, will look upon this
pulation in which most people are so assertion sceptically. We speak from
deficient.
facts, however; and those neither few
When the observing and inventive nor special. We have seen a class of
faculties have attained the requisite boys become so interested in making
power, the pupil may be introduced to out solutions to such problems, as to
empirical geometry; that is—geometry look forward to their geometry-lesson as
dealing with methodical solutions, but a chief event of the week. Within the
not with the demonstrations of them. last month, we have heard of one girls’
Like all other transitions in education,
school, in which some of the young
this should be made not formally but ladies voluntarily occupy themselves with
incidentally; and the relationship to geometrical questions out of schoolconstructive art should still be main hours ; and of another, where they not
tained. To make, out of cardboard, a only do this, but where one of them is
tetrahedron like one given to him, is a begging for problems to find out during
problem which will interest the pupil,
the holidays : both which facts we state
and serve as a convenient starting-point.
on the authority of the teacher. Strong
In attempting this, he finds it needful to proofs, these, of the practicability and
draw four equilateral triangles arranged the immense advantage of self-develop
in special positions. Being unable in ment ! A branch of knowledge which,the absence of an exact method to do as commonly taught, is dry and even
this accurately, he discovers on putting repulsive, is thus, by following the
the triangles into their respective posi method of Nature, made extremely
tions, that he cannot make their sides interesting and profoundly beneficial.fit; and that their angles do not meet at We say profoundly beneficial, because
the apex. He may now be shown how,
the effects are riot confined to the gain
by describing a couple of circles, each ing of geometrical facts, but often
�INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION
65
revolutionise the whole state of mind. It
has repeatedly occurred that those who
have been stupefied by the ordinary
school-drill—by its abstract formulas, its
wearisome tasks, its cramming—have
suddenly had their intellects roused by
thus ceasing to make them passive
recipients, and inducing them to become
active discoverers. The discouragement
caused by bad teaching having been
diminished by a little sympathy, and
sufficient perseverance excited to achieve
a first success, there arises a revulsion of
feeling affecting the whole nature. They
no longer find themselves incompetent;
they, too, can do something. And
gradually as success follows success, the
incubus of despair disappears, and they
attack the difficulties of their other
studies with a courage insuring conquest.
A few weeks after the foregoing re
marks were originally published, Pro
fessor Tyndall, in a lecture at the Royal
Institution “ On the Importance of the
study of Physics as a Branch of Educa
tion,” gave some conclusive evidence to
the same effect. His testimony, based
on personal observation, is of such great
value that we cannot refrain from
quoting it. Here it is.
stated something to be impossible, never to use
that stupid word again. Thus cheered, he has
returned to his task with a smile, which perhaps
had something of doubt in it, but which, never
theless, evinced a resolution to try again. I
have seen the boy’s eye brighten, and at length,
with a pleasure of which the ecstasy of Archi
medes was but a simple expansion, heard him
exclaim, “ I have it, sir.” The consciousness
of self-power, thus awakened, was of immense
value; and animated by it the progress of the
class was truly astonishing. It was often my
custom to give the boys their choice of pursuing
their propositions in the book, or of trying their
strength at others not to be found there. Never
in a single instance have I known the book to
be chosen. I was ever ready to assist when I
deemed help needful, but my offers of assistance
were habitually declined. The boys had tasted
the sweets of intellectual conquest and demanded
victories of their own. I have seen their
diagrams scratched on the walls, cut into the
beams upon their play-ground, and numberless
other illustrations of the living interest they took
in the subject. For my own part, as far as
experience in teaching goes, I was a mere
fledgling: I knew nothing of the rules of
pedagogics, as the Germans name it; but I
adhered to the spirit indicated at the commence
ment of this discourse, and endeavoured to make
geometry a means and not a branch of education.
The experiment was successful, and some of the
most delightful hours of my existence have been
spent in marking the vigorous and cheerful
expansion of mental power, when appealed to in
the manner I have described.
One of the duties which fell to my share,
during the period to which I have referred, was
the instruction of a class in mathematics, and I
usually found that Euclid and the ancient
geometry generally, when addressed to the
understanding, formed a very attractive study
for youth. But it was my habitual practice to
withdraw the boys from the routine of the book,
and to appeal to their self-power in the treat
ment of questions not comprehended in that
routine. At first, the change from the beaten
track usually excited a little aversion : the youth
felt like a child amid strangers ; but in no single
instance have I found this aversion to continue.
When utterly disheartened, I have encouraged
the boy by that anecdote of Newton, where he
attributes the difference between him and other
men, mainly to his own patience ; or of Mira
beau, when he ordered his servant, who had |
This empirical geometry which pre
sents an endless series of problems,
should be continued along with other
studies for years; and may throughout
be advantageously accompanied by those
concrete applications of its principles
which serve as its preliminary. After
the cube, the octahedron, and the vari
ous forms of pyramid and prism have
been mastered, may come the more
complex regular bodies—the dodecahe
dron and icosahedron—to construct
which out of single pieces of cardboard,
requires considerable ingenuity. From
these, the transition may naturally be
made to such modified forms of the
c
�66
EDUCATION
regular bodies as are met with in
crystals—the truncated cube, the cube
with its dihedral as well as its solid
angles truncated, the octahedron and
the various prisms as similarly modified :
in imitating which numerous forms
assumed by different metals and salts, an
acquaintance with the leading facts of
mineralogy will be incidentally gained.
*
After long continuance in exercises of
this kind, rational geometry, as may be
supposed, presents no obstacles. Habit
uated to contemplate relationships of
form and quantity, and vaguely per
ceiving from time to time the necessity
of certain results as reached by certain
means, the pupil comes to regard the
demonstrations of Euclid as the missing
supplemeuts to his familiar problems.
His well-disciplined faculties enable him
easily to master its successive proposi
tions, and to appreciate their value; and
he has the occasional gratification of
finding some of his own methods proved
to be true. Thus he enjoys what is to
the unprepared a dreary task. It only
remains to add, that his mind will pre
sently arrive at a fit condition for that
most valuable of all exercises for the
reflective faculties—the making of origi
nal demonstrations. Such theorems as
those appended to the successive books
of the Messrs. Chambers’s Euclid, will
soon become practicable to him; and in
proving them, the process of self-develop
ment will be not intellectual only, but
moral.
To continue these suggestions much
further, would be to write a detailed
treatise on education, which we do not
purpose. The foregoing outlines of plans
for exercising the perceptions in early
* Those who seek aid in carrying out the
system of culture above described, will find in it
a little work entitled “Inventional Geometry”;
published by Messrs. Williams & Norgate.
childhood, for conducting object-lessons,
for teaching drawing and geometry, must
be considered simply as illustrations of
the method dictated by the general
principles previously specified. We
believe that on examination they will be
found not only to progress from the
simple to the complex, from the indefinite
to the definite, from the concrete to the
abstract, from the empirical to the
rational; but to satisfy the further
requirements, that education shall be a
repetition of civilisation in little, that it
shall be as much as possible a process
of self-evolution, and that it shall be as
pleasurable. The fulfilment of all these
conditions by one type of method, tends
alike to verify the conditions, and to
prove that type of method the right one.
Mark too, that this method is the logical
outcome of the tendency characterising
all modern improvements in tuition—•
that it is but an adoption in full of the
natural system which they adopt partially
—that it displays this complete adoption
of the natural system, both by conform
ing to the above principles, and by
following the suggestions which the
unfolding mind itself gives : facilitating
its spontaneous activities, and so aiding
the developments which Nature is busy
with. Thus there seems abundant reason
to conclude, that the mode of procedure
above exemplified, closely approximates
to the true one.
A few paragraphs must be added in
further inculcation of the two general
principles, that are alike the most impor
tant and the least attended to : namely,
the principle that throughout youth, as
in early childhood and in maturity, the
process shall be one of self-instruction;
and the obverse principle, that the mental
action induced shall be throughout in
trinsically grateful. If progression from
�INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION
simple to complex, from indefinite to
definite, and from concrete to abstract, be
considered the essential requirements as
dictated by abstract psychology ; then do
the requirements that knowledge shall be
self-mastered, and pleasurably mastered,
become tests by which we may judge
whether the dictates of abstract psycho
logy are being obeyed. If the first embody
the leading generalisations of the science
of mental growth, the last are the chief
canons of the art of fostering mental
growth. For manifestly, if the steps in
our curriculum are so arranged that they
can be successively ascended by the
pupil himself with little or no help, they
must correspond with the stages of
evolution in his faculties ; and manifestly,
if the successive achievements of these
steps are intrinsically gratifying to him,
it follows that they require no more than
a normal exercise of his powers.
But making education a process of
self-evolution, has other advantages than
this of keeping our lessons in the right
order. In the first place, it guarantees
a vividness and permanency of impression
which the usual methods can never pro
duce. Any piece of knowledge which
the pupil has himself acquired — any
problem which he has himself solved,
becomes, by virtue of the conquest, much
more thoroughly his than it could else
be. The preliminary activity of mind
which his success implies, the concentra
tion of thought necessary to it, and the
excitement consequent on his triumph,
conspire to register the facts in his
memory in a way that no mere informa
tion heard from a teacher, or read in a
school-book, can be registered. Even if
he fails, the tension to which his faculties
have been wound up, insures his remem
brance of the solution when given to
him, better than half-a-dozen repetitions
would. Observe, again, that this disci
67
pline necessitates a continuous organisa
tion of the knowledge he acquires. It
is in the very nature of facts and inferences
assimilated in this normal manner, that
they successively become the premises
of further conclusions—the means of
solving further questions. The solution
of yesterday’s problem helps the pupil in
mastering to-day’s. Thus the knowledge
is turned into faculty as soon as it is
taken in, and forthwith aids in the
general function of thinking—does not
lie merely written on the pages of an
internal library, as when rote-learnt.
Mark further, the moral culture which
this constant self-help involves. Courage
in attacking difficulties, patient concen
tration of the attention, perseverance
through failures—these are characteristics
which after-life specially requires; and
these are characteristics which this system
of making the mind work for ’ts food
specially produces. That it is thoroughly
practicable to carry out instruction after
this fashion, we can ourselves testify;
having been in youth thus led to solve
the comparatively complex problems of
perspective. And that leading teachers
have been tending in this direction, is
indicated alike in the saying of Fellenberg,
that “the individual, independent activity
of the pupil is of much greater importance
than the ordinary busy officiousness of
many who assume the office of educators”;
in the opinion of Horace Mann, that
“ unfortunately education amongst us at
present consists too much in telling, not
in training”; and in the remark of M.
Marcel, that “ what the learner discovers
by mental exertion is better known than
what is told to him.”
Similarly with the correlative require
ment, that the method of culture pursued
shall be one productive of an intrinsically
happy activity,—an activity not happy
because of intrinsic rewards to be obtained,
�68
EDUCATION
but because of its own healthfulness.
Conformity to this requirement, besides
preventing us from thwarting the normal
process of evolution, incidentally secures
positive benefits of importance. Unless
we are to return to an ascetic morality
(or rather /¡w-morality) the maintenance
of youthful happiness must be considered
as in itself a worthy aim. Not to dwell
upon this, however, we go on to remark
that a pleasurable state of feeling is far
more favourable to intellectual action
than a state of indifference or disgust.
Every one knows that things read, heard,
or seen with interest, are better remem
bered than things read, heard, or seen
with apathy. In the one case the facul
ties appealed to are actively occupied
with the subject presented; in the other
they are inactively occupied with it, and
the attention is continually drawn away
by more attractive thoughts. Hence the
impressions are respectively strong and
weak.
Moreover, to the intellectual
listlessness which a pupil’s lack of interest
in any study involves, must be added the
paralysing fear of consequences. This,
by distracting his attention, increases the
difficulty he finds in bringing his faculties
to bear upon facts that are repugnant to
them. Clearly, therefore, the efficiency
of tuition will, other things equal, be
proportionate to the gratification with
which tasks are performed.
It should be considered also, that grave
moral consequences depend upon the
habitual pleasure or pain which daily
lessons produce. No one.can compare
the faces and manners of two boys—theone made happy by mastering interesting
subjects, and the other made miserable
by disgust with his studies, by consequent
inability, by cold looks, by threats, by
punishment — without seeing that the
disposition of the one is being benefited,
and that of the other injured. Whoever
has marked the effects of success and
failure upon the mind, and the power of
the mind over the body; will see that in
the one case both temper and health are
favourably affected, while in the other
there is danger of permanent moroseness,
of permanent timidity, and even of per
manent constitutional depression. There
remains yet another indirect result of no
small moment. The relationship between
teachers and their pupils is, other things
equal, rendered friendly and influential,
or antagonistic and powerless, according
as the system of culture produces happi
ness or misery. Human beings are at
the mercy of their associated ideas. A
daily minister of pain cannot fail to be
regarded with secret dislike; and if he
causes no emotions but painful ones, will
inevitably be hated. Conversely, he who
constantly aids children to their ends,
hourly provides them with the satisfac
tions of conquest, hourly encourages
them through their difficulties and sympa
thises in their successes, will be liked;
nay, if his behaviour is consistent
throughout, must be loved. And when
we remember how efficient and benign
is the control of a master who is felt to
be a friend, when compared with the
control of one who is looked upon with
aversion, or at best indifference, we may
infer that the indirect advantages of
conducting education on the happiness
principle do not fall far short of the
direct ones. To all who question the
possibility of acting out the system here
advocated, we reply as before, that not
only does theory point to it, but experience
commends it. To the many verdicts of
distinguished teachers who since Pestalozzi’s time have testified this, may be
here added that of Professor Pillans,
who asserts that “ where young, people
are taught as they ought to be, they are
quite as happy in school as at play,
�MORAL EDUCATION
seldom less delighted, nay, often more,
with the well-directed exercise of their
mental energies, than with that of their
muscular powers.”
As suggesting a final reason for making
education a process of self-instruction,
and by consequence a process of pleasur
able instruction, we may advert to the
fact that, in proportion as it is made so,
is there a probability that it will not
cease when school-days end. As long
as the acquisition of knowledge is
rendered habitually repugnant, so long
will there be a prevailing tendency to
discontinue it when free from the coer
cion of parents and masters. And when
the acquisition of knowledge has been
rendered habitually gratifying, then there
will be as prevailing a tendency to con
tinue, without superintendence, that self
culture previously carried on under super
intendence. These results are inevitable.
While the laws of mental association
remain true—while men dislike the
things and places that suggest painful
recollections, and delight in those which
call to mind by-gone pleasures—painful
lessons will make knowledge repulsive,
and pleasurable lessons will make it
attractive. The men to whom in boyhood information came m dreary tasks
along with threats of punishment, and
who were never led into habits of inde
pendent inquiry, are unlikely to be
students in after years ; while those to
whom it came in the natural forms, at
the proper times, and who remember its
facts as not only interesting in them
selves, but as the occasions of a long
series of gratifying successes, are likely
to continue through life that self
instruction commenced in youth.
CHAPTER III.
MORAL EDUCATION
The greatest defect in our programmes
of education is entirely overlooked.
While much is being done in the
detailed improvement of our systems in
respect both of matter and manner, the
most pressing desideratum- has not yet
been even recognised as a desideratum.
To prepare the young for the duties of
life, is tacitly admitted to be the end
which parents and schoolmasters should
have in view; and happily, the value of
the things taught, and the goodness of
the methods followed in teaching them,
are now ostensibly judged by their fitness
to this end. The propriety of substi
tuting for an exclusively classical training,
a training in which the modern languages
shall have a share, is argued on this
ground. The necessity of increasing the
amount of science is urged for like
reasons. But though some care is taken
to fit youth of both sexes for society and
citizenship, no care whatever is taken to
fit them for the position of parents.
While it is seen that for the purpose of
gaining a livelihood, an elaborate pre
paration is needed, it appears to be
thought that for the bringing up of
children, no preparation whatever is
needed. While many years are spent
by a boy in gaining knowledge of which
the chief value is that it constitutes “ the
education of a gentleman”; and while
many years are spent by a girl in those
decorative acquirements which fit her for
evening parties ; not an hour is spent by
either in preparation for that gravest of
all responsibilities—the management of
a family. Is it that this responsibility
is but a remote contingency? On the
contrary, it is sure to devolve on nine
�7o
EDUCATION
out of ten. Is it that the discharge of
it is easy? Certainly not: of all functions
which the adult has to fulfil, this is the
most difficult. Is it that each may be
trusted by self-instruction to fit himself,
or herself, for the office of parent ? No :
not only is the need for such self-instruc
tion unrecognised, but the complexity of
the subject renders it the one of all
others in which self-instruction is least
likely to succeed. No rational plea can
be put forward for leaving the Art of
Education out of our curriculum.
Whether as bearing on the happiness
of parents themselves, or whether as
affecting the characters and lives of their
children and remote descendants, we
must admit that a knowledge of the right
methods of juvenile culture, physical,
intellectual, and moral, is a knowledge
of extreme importance.
This topic
should be the final one in the course
of instruction passed through by each
man and woman. As physical maturity
is marked by the ability to produce
offspring; so, mental maturity is marked
by the ability to train those offspring.
The subject which involves all other
subjects, and therefore the subject in which
education should culminate, is the Theory
and Practice of Education.
In the absence of this preparation, the
management of children, and more espe
cially the moral management, is lament
ably bad. Parents either never think
about the matter at all, or else their con
clusions are crude and inconsistent. In
most cases, and especially on the part of
mothers, the treatment adopted on every
occasion is that which the impulse of the
moment prompts : it springs not from
any reasoned-out conviction as to what
will most benefit the child, but merely
expresses the dominant parental feelings,
whether good or ill; and varies from
hour to hour as these feelings vary. Or
if the dictates of passion are supple
mented by any definite doctrines and
methods, they are those handed down
from the past, or those suggested by the
remembrances of childhood, or those
adopted from nurses and servants—
methods devised not by the enlighten
ment, but by the ignorance, of the time.
Commenting on the chaotic state oí
opinion and practice relative to selfgovernment, Richter writes:—
If the secret variances of a large class of
ordinary fathers were brought to light, and laid
down as a plan of studies and reading, cata
logued for a moral education, they would run
somewhat after this fashion :—In the first hour
“pure morality must be read to the child, either
by myself or the tutor ”; in the second “mixed
morality, or that which may be applied to one’s
own advantage
in the third, “ do you not see
that your father does so and so?”; in the fourth,
“you are little, and this is only fit for grown-up
people ”; in the fifth, “ the chief matter is that
you should succeed in the world, and become
something in the state”; in the sixth, “not the
temporary, but the eternal, determines the worth
of a man”; in the seventh, “therefore rather
suffer injustice, and be kind ”; in the eighth, “ but
defend yourself bravely if any one attack you ”;
in the ninth, “ do not make a noise, dear child ”;
in the tenth, “a boy must not sit so quiet”; in
the eleventh, “you must obey your parents
better”; in the twelfth, “and educate yourself.”
So by the hourly change of his principles, the
father conceals their untenableness and onesided
ness. As for his wife, she is neither like him,
nor yet like that harlequin who came on to the
stage with a bundle of papers under each arm,
and answered to the inquiry, what he had under
his right arm, “orders,” and to what he had
under his left arm, “ counter-orders.” But the
mother might be much better compared to a
giant Briareus, who had a hundred arms, and a
bundle of papers under each.
This state of things is not to be readily
changed. Generations must pass before
a great amelioration of it can be expected.
Like political institutions, educational
systems are not made, but grow; and
within brief periods growth is insensible.
Slow, however, as must be any improve
�MORAL EDUCATION
ment, even that improvement implies the
use of means ; and among the means is
discussion.
We are not among those who believe
in Lord Palmerston’s dogma, that “ all
children are born good.” On the whole,
the opposite dogma, untenable as it is,
seems to us less wide of the truth. Nor do
we agree with those who think that, by
skilful discipline, children may be made
altogether what they should be. Con
trariwise, we are satisfied that, though
imperfections of nature may be dimin
ished by wise management, they cannot
be removed by it. The notion that an
ideal humanity might be forthwith pro
duced by a perfect system of education,,
is near akin to that implied in the poems
of Shelley, that would mankind give up
their old institutions and prejudices, all
the evils in the world would at once
disappear : neither notion being accep
table to such as have dispassionately
studied human affairs.
Nevertheless, we may fitly sympathise
with those who entertain these too
sanguine hopes. Enthusiasm, pushed
even to fanaticism, is a useful motive
power—perhaps an indispensable one.
It is clear that the ardent politician
would never undergo the labours and
make the sacrifices he does, did he not
believe that the reform he fights for is
the one thing needful. But for his con
viction that drunkenness is the root of
■all social evils, the teetotaller would
•agitate far less energetically. In philan
thropy, as in other things, great advan
tage results from division of labour; and
that there may be division of labour,
each class of philanthropists must be
more or less subordinated to its function
—must have an exaggerated faith in its
work. Hence, of those who regard
■education, intellectual or moral, as the
7i
panacea, we may say that their undue
expectations are not without use ; and
that perhaps it is part of the beneficent
order of things that their confidence
cannot be shaken.
Even were it true, however, that by
some possible system of moral control,
children could be moulded into the
desired form, and even could every
parent be indoctrinated with this system;
we should still be far from achieving the
object in view. It is forgotten that the
carrying out of any such system pre
supposes, on the part of adults, a degree
of intelligence, of goodness, of self
control, possessed by no one. The
error made by those who discuss ques
tions of domestic discipline, lies in
ascribing all the faults and difficulties to
the children, and none to the parents.
The current assumption respecting
family government, as respecting na
tional government, is, that the virtues
are with the rulers and the vices with the
ruled. Judging by educational theories,
men and women are entirely transfigured
in their relations to offspring. The
citizens we do business with, the people
we meet in the world, we know to be
very imperfect creatures. In the daily
scandals, in the quarrels of friends, in
bankruptcy disclosures, in lawsuits, in
police reports, we have constantly thrust
before us the pervading selfishness, dis
honesty, brutality. Yet when we criti
cise nursery-management and canvass
the misbehaviour of juveniles, we habitu
ally take for granted that these culpable
persons are free from moral delinquency
in the treatment of their boys and girls !
So far is this from the truth, that we do
not hesitate to blame parental miscon
duct for a great part of the domestic
disorder commonly ascribed to the per
versity of children. We do not assert
this of the more sympathetic and self
�72
EDUCATION
restrained, among whom we hope most
of our readers may be classed; but we
assert it of the mass. What kind of
moral culture is to be expected from a
mother who, time after time, angrily
shakes her infant because it will not
suck ; which we once saw a mother do ?
How much sense of justice is likely to
be instilled by a father who, on having
his attention drawn by a scream to the
fact that his child’s finger is jammed
between the window-sash and the sill,
begins to beat the child instead of re
leasing it ? Yet that there are such
fathers is testified to us by an eye
witness. Or, to take a still stronger
case, also vouched for by direct testi
mony—what are the educational pros
pects of the boy who, on being taken
home with a dislocated thigh, is saluted
with a castigation ? It is true that these
are extreme instances—instances exhibit
ing in human beings that blind instinct
which impels brutes to destroy the
weakly and injured of their own race.
But extreme though they are, they
typify feelings and conduct daily observ
able in many families. Who has not
repeatedly seen a child slapped by nurse
or parent for a fretfulness probably re
sulting from bodily derangement ? Who,
when watching a mother snatch up a
fallen little one, has not often traced,
both in the rough manner and in the
sharply - uttered exclamation — “ You
stupid little thing 1”—an irascibility fore
telling endless future squabbles ? Is
there not in the harsh tones in which a
father bids his children be quiet, evi
dence of a deficient fellow-feeling with
them ? Are not the constant, and often
quite needless, thwartings that the young
experience—the injunctions to sit still,
which an active child cannot obey with
out suffering great nervous irritation, the
commands not to look out of the window
when travelling by railway, which on
a child of any intelligence entails serious
deprivation—are not these thwartings,
we ask, signs of a terrible lack of sym
pathy ? The truth is, that the difficulties
of moral education are necessarily of
dual origin—necessarily result from the
combined faults of parents and children.
If hereditary transmission is a law of
nature, as every naturalist knows it to
be, and as our daily remarks and current
proverbs admit it to be; then, on the
average of cases, the defects of children
mirror the defects of their parents ; —on
the average of cases, we say, because,
complicated as the results are by the
transmitted traits of remoter ancestors,
the correspondence is not special but
only general. And if, on the average of
cases, this inheritance of defects exists,
then the evil passions which parents
have to check in their children, imply
like evil passions in themselves : hidden,
it may be, from the public eye; or per
haps obscured by other feelings; but
still there.
Evidently, therefore, the
general practice of any ideal system of
discipline is hopeless: parents are not
good enough.
Moreover, even were there methods
by which the desired end could be at
once effected ; and even had fathers and
mothers sufficient insight, sympathy, and
self-command to employ these methods
consistently; it might still be contended
that it would be of no use to reform
family-government faster than other
things are reformed. What is it that
we aim to do ? Is it not that education
of whatever kind, has for its proximate
end to prepare a child for the business
of life—to produce a citizen who, while
he is well conducted, is also able to make
his way in the world ? And does not
making his way in the world (by which
we mean, not the acquirement of wealth,
�MORAL EDUCATION
but of the funds requisite for bringing
up a family)—does not this imply a
- certain fitness for the world as it now is ?
And if by any system of culture an ideal
human being could be produced, is it
not doubtful whether he would be fit for
the world as it now is? May we not,
on the contrary, suspect that his too
keen sense of rectitude, and too elevated
standard of conduct, would make life
intolerable or even impossible ? And how
ever admirable the result might be, con
sidered individually, would it not be selfdefeating in so far as society and posterity
are concerned ? There is much reason
for thinking that as in a nation so in a
family, the kind of government is, on
the whole, about as good as the general
state of human nature permits it to be.
We may argue that in the one case, as
in the other, the average character of the
people determines the quality of the
control exercised. In both cases it may
be inferred that amelioration of the
average character leads to an ameliora
tion of system ; and further, that were
it possible to ameliorate the system with
out the average character being first
ameliorated, evil rather than good would
follow. Such degree of harshness as
children now experience from their
parents and teachers, may be regarded
as but a preparation for that greater
harshness which they will meet with on
entering the world. And it may be
urged that were it possible for parents
and teachers to treat them with perfect
equity and entire sympathy, it would
but intensify the sufferings which the
selfishness of men must, in after life,
inflict on them.1
1 Of this nature is the plea put in by some for
the rough treatment experienced by boys at our
public schools; where, as it is said, they are
introduced to a miniature world whose hardships
prepare them for those of the real world. It
73
“But does not this prove too much?”
some one will ask. “ If no system of
moral training can forthwith make
children what they should be; if, even
were there a system that would do this,
existing parents are too imperfect to
carry it out; and if even could such a
system be successfully carried out, its
results would be disastrously incongruous
with the present state of society; does it
not follow that to reform the system now
in use, is neither practicable nor desir
able?” No. It merely follows that
reform in domestic government must go
on, pari passu, with other reforms. It
merely follows that methods of discipline
neither can be nor should be ameliorated,
except by instalments. It merely follows
that the dictates of abstract rectitude
will, in practice, inevitably be subordi
nated by the present state of human
nature—by the imperfections alike of
children, of parents, and of society; and
can only be better fulfilled as the general
character becomes better.
“At any rate, then,” may rejoin our
critic, “it is clearly useless to set up
any ideal standard of family discipline.
There can be no advantage in elabora
ting and recommending methods that
are in advance of the time.” Again we
must be admitted that the plea has some force ;
but it is a very insufficient plea. For whereas
domestic and school discipline, though they
should not be much better than the discipline of
adult life, should be somewhat better ; the disci
pline which boys meet with at Eton, Winchester,
Harrow, etc., is worse than that adult life—more
unjust and cruel. Instead of being an aid to
human progress which all culture should be,
the culture of our public schools, by accustoming
boys to a despotic form of government and an
intercourse regulated by brute force, tends to fit
them for a lower state of society than that which
exists. And chiefly recruited as our legislature
is from among those who are brought up at such
schools, this barbarising influence becomes a
hindrance to national progress.
�74
EDUCATION
contend for the contrary. Just as
in the case of political government,
though pure rectitude may be at
present impracticable, it is requisite
to know where the right lies, in
order that the changes we make may be
iowards the right instead of away from
it; so, in the case of domestic govern
ment, an ideal must be upheld, that
there may be gradual approximations to
it. We need fear no evil consequences
from the maintenance of such an ideal.
On the average the constitutional con
servatism of mankind is strong enough
to prevent too rapid a change. Things
are so organised that until men have
grown up to the level of a higher belief,
they cannot receive it: nominally, they
may hold it, but not virtually. And
even when the truth gets recognised, the
obstacles to conformity with it are so
persistent as to outlive the patience of
philanthropists and even of philosophers.
We may be sure, therefore, that the
difficulties in the way of a normal
government of children, will always put
an adequate check upon the efforts to
realise it.
With these preliminary explanations,
let us go on to consider the true aims
and methods of moral education. After
a few pages devoted to the settlement of
general principles, during the perusal of
which we bespeak the reader’s patience,
we shall aim by illustrations to make
clear the right methods of parental
behaviour in the hourly occurring
difficulties of family government.
When a child falls, or runs its head
against the table, it suffers a pain, the
remembrance of which tends to make it
more careful; and by repetition of such
experiences, it is eventually disciplined
into proper guidance of its movements.
If it lays hold of the fire-bars, thrusts its
hand into a candle-flame, or spills boiling
water on any part of its skin, the result
ing burn or scald is a lesson not easily
forgotten. So deep an impression is
produced by one or two events of this
kind, that no persuasion will afterwards
induce it thus to disregard the laws of
its constitution.
Now in these cases, Nature illustrates
to us in the simplest way, the true theory
and practice of moral discipline—a
theory and practice which, however
much they may seem to the superficial
like those commonly received, we shall
find on examination to differ from them
very widely.
Observe, first, that in bodily injuries
and their penalties we have misconduct
and its consequences reduced to their
simplest forms. Though, according to
their popular acceptations, right and
wrong are words scarcely applicable to
actions that have none but direct bodily
effects j yet whoever considers the matter
will see that such actions must be as
much classifiable under these heads as
any other actions. From whatever
assumption they start, all theories of
morality agree that conduct whose total
results, immediate and remote, are
beneficial, is good conduct; while
conduct whose total results, immediate
and remote, are injurious, is bad
conduct. The ultimate standards by
which all men judge of behaviour,
are the resulting happiness or misery.
We consider drunkenness wrong because
of the physical degeneracy and accom
panying moral evils entailed on the
drunkard and his dependents.
Did
theft give pleasure both to taker and
loser, we should not find it in our cata
logue of sins. Were it conceivable that
kind actions multiplied human sufferings,
we should condemn them—should not
consider them kind. It needs but to
�MokAl education
read the first newspaper-leader, or listen
to any conversation on social affairs, to
see that acts of parliament, political
movements, philanthropic agitations, in
common with the doings of individuals
are judged by their anticipated results in
augmenting the pleasures or pains of
men. And if on analysing all secondary,
superinduced ideas, we find these to be
our final tests of right and wrong, we
cannot refuse to class bodily conduct as
right or wrong according to the bene
ficial or detrimental results produced.
Note, in the second place, the char
acter of the punishments by which these
physical transgressions are prevented.
Punishments, we call them, in the
absence of a better word: for they are
not punishments in the literal sense.
They are not artificial and unnecessary
inflictions of pain; but are simply the
beneficent checks to actions that are
essentially at variance with bodily wel
fare—checks in the absence of which
life would be quickly destroyed by bodily
injuries. It is the peculiarity of these
penalties, if we must so call them, that
they are simply the unavoidable conse
quences of the deeds which they follow :
they are nothing more than the inevitable
reactions entailed by the child’s actions.
Let it be further borne in mind that
these painful reactions are proportionate
to the transgressions. A slight accident
brings a slight pain ; a more serious one,
a severer pain. It is not ordained that
the urchin who tumbles over the door
step, shall suffer in excess of the amount
necessary; with the view of making it
still more cautious than the necessary
suffering will make it. But from its daily
experience it is left to learn the greater
or less errors; and to behave accord
ingly.
And then mark, lastly, that these
natural reactions which follow the child’s
wrong actions, are constant, direct,
unhesitating, and not to be escaped.
No threats; but a silent, rigorous per
formance. If a child runs a pin into
its finger, pain follows. If it does it
again, there is again the same result:
and so on perpetually. In all its dealings
with inorganic Nature it finds this un
swerving persistence, which listens to no
excuse, and from which there is no
appeal; and very soon recognising this
stern though beneficent discipline, it
becomes extremely careful not to trans
gress.
Still more significant will these general
truths appear, when we remember that
they hold throughout adult life as well
as throughout infantine life. It is by an
experimentally-gained knowledge of the
natural consequences, that men and
women are checked when they go wrong.
After home education has ceased, and
when there are no longer parents and
teachers to forbid this or that kind of
conduct, there comes into play a disci
pline like that by which the young child
is trained to self-guidance. If the youth ~
entering on the business of life idles
away his time and fulfils slowly or unskil
fully the duties entrusted to him, there
by-and-by follows the natural penalty :
he is discharged, and left to suffer for
awhile the evils of a relative poverty,
On the unpunctual man, ever missing his
appointments of business and pleasure,
there continually fall the consequent
inconveniences, losses, and deprivations.
The tradesman who charges too high a
rate of profit, loses his customers, and so
is checked in his greediness. Diminish
ing practice teaches the inattentive
doctor to bestow more trouble on his
patients. The too credulous creditor
and the over-sanguine speculator, alike
learn by the difficulties which rashness
entails on them, the necessity of being
�76
EDUCATION
more cautious in their engagements.
And so throughout the life of every
citizen. In the quotation so often made
apropos of such cases—“The burnt child
dreads the fire ”—we see not only that
the analogy between this social discipline
and Nature’s early discipline of infants
is universally recognised; but we also
see an implied conviction that this disci
pline is of the most efficient kind. Nay
indeed, this conviction is more than
implied ; it is distinctly stated. Every
one has heard others confess that only
by “ dearly bought experience ” had they
been induced to give up some bad or
foolish course of conduct formerly
pursued. Every one has heard, in the
criticisms passed on the doings of this
spendthrift or the other schemer, the
remark that advice was useless, and that
nothing but “bitter experience ” would
produce any effect : nothing, that is, but
suffering the unavoidable consequences.
And if further proof be needed that the
natural reaction is not only the most
efficient penalty, but that no humanlydevised penalty can replace it, we have
such further proof in the notorious illsuccess of our various penal systems.
Out of the many methods of criminal
discipline that have been proposed and
legally enforced, none have answered the
expectations of their advocates. Artificial
punishments have failed to produce
reformation ; and have in many cases
increased the criminality. The only suc
cessful reformatories are those privatelyestablished ones which approximate their
régime to the method of Nature—which
do little more than administer the natural
consequences of criminal conduct :
diminishing the criminal’s liberty of
action as much as is needful for the
safety of society, and requiring him to
maintain himself while living under this
restraint. Thus we see, both that the
discipline by which the young child is
taught to regulate its movements is the
discipline by which the great mass of
adults are kept in order, and more or
less improved; and that the discipline
humanly-devised for the worst adults,
fails when it diverges from this divinelyordained discipline, and begins to succeed
on approximating to it.
Have we not here, then, the guiding
principle of moral education ? Must we
not infer that the system so beneficent
in its effects during infancy and maturity,
will be equally beneficent throughout
youth? Can any one believe that the
method which answers so well in the
first and the last divisions of life, will
not answer in the intermediate division ?
Is it not manifest that as “ ministers and
interpreters of Nature ” it is the function
of parents to see that their children
habitually experience the true conse
quences of their conduct—the natural
reactions; neither warding them off, nor
intensifying them, nor putting artificial
consequences in place of them? No
unprejudiced reader will hesitate in his
assent.
Probably, however, not a few will con
tend that already most parents do this—
that the punishments they inflict are, in
the majority of cases, the true conse
quences of ill-conduct—that parental
anger, venting itself in harsh words and
deeds, is the result of a child’s transgres
sion—and that, in the suffering, physical
or moral, which the child is subject to,
it experiences the natural reaction of its
misbehaviour. Along with much error
this assertion contains some truth. It is
unquestionable that the displeasure of
fathers and mothers is a true conse
quence of juvenile delinquency; and that
the manifestation of it is a normal check
upon such delinquency. The scoldings,
�MORAL EDUCATION
and threats, and blows, which a passionate
parent visits on offending little ones, are
doubtless effects actually drawn from
such a parent by their offences ; and so
are, in some sort, to be considered as
among the natural reactions of their
wrong actions. Nor are we prepared to
say that these modes of treatment are
not relatively right—right, that is, in
relation to the uncontrollable children of
ill-controlled adults; and right in relation
to a state of society in which such illcontrolled adults make up the mass of
the, people.
As already suggested,
educational systems, like political and
other institutions, are generally as good
as the state of human nature permits.
The barbarous children of barbarous
parents are probably only to be re
strained by the barbarous methods which
such parents spontaneously employ;
while submission to these barbarous
methods is perhaps the best preparation
such children can have for the barbarous
society in which they are presently to
play a part. Conversely, the civilised
members of a civilised society will spon
taneously manifest their displeasure in
less violent ways—will spontaneously
use milder measures: measures strong
enough for their better-natured children.
Thus it is true that, in so far as the
expression of parental feeling is con
cerned, the principle of the natural
reaction is always more or less followed.
The system of domestic government
gravitates towards its right form.
But now observe two important facts.
The first fact is that, in states of rapid
transition like ours, which witness a
continuous battle between old and new
theories and old and new practices, the
educational methods in use are apt to
be considerably out of harmony with the
times. In deference to dogmas fit only
for the ages that uttered them, many
77
parents inflict punishments that do
violence to their own feelings, and so
visit on their children unnatural reactions;
while other parents, enthusiastic in their
hopes of immediate perfection, rush to
the opposite extreme. The second fact
is, that the discipline of chief value is
not the experience of parental approba
tion or disapprobation; but it is the
experience of those results which would
ultimately flow from the conduct in the
absence of parental opinion or interfer
ence. The truly instructive and salutary
consequences are not those inflicted by
parents when they take upon themselves
to be Nature’s proxies; but they are
those inflicted by Nature herself. We
will endeavour to make this distinction
clear by a few illustrations, which, while
they show what we mean by natural
reactions as contrasted with artificial
ones, will afford some practical sugges
tions.
In every family where there are young
children there daily occur cases of what
mothers and servants call “making a
litter.” A child has had out its box of
toys, and leaves them scattered about the
floor. Or a handful of flowers, brought
in from a morning walk, is presently
seen dispersed over tables and chairs.
Or, a little girl, making doll’s clothes,
disfigures the room with shreds. In
most cases the trouble of rectifying this
disorder falls anywhere but where it
should. Occurring in the nursery, the
nurse herself, with many grumblings
about “ tiresome little things,” under
takes the task; if below-stairs, the task
usually devolves either on one of the
elder children or on the housemaid : the
transgressor being visited with nothing
more than a scolding. In this very
simple case, however, there are many
parents wise enough to follow out, more
or less consistently, the normal course—
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that of making the child itself collect the
toys or shreds. The labour of putting
things in order, is the true consequence
of having put them in disorder. Every
trader in his office, every wife in her
household, has daily experience of this
fact. And if education be a preparation
for the business of life, then every
child should also, from the begin
ning, have daily experience of this
fact. If the natural penalty be met by
refractory behaviour (which it may per
haps be where the system of moral disci
pline previously pursued has been bad),
then the proper course is to let the child
feel the ulterior reaction caused by its
disobedience. Having refused or neg
lected to pick up and put away the
things it has scattered about, and having
thereby entailed the trouble of doing
this on some one else, the child should,
on subsequent occasions, be denied the
means of giving this trouble. When
next it petitions for its toy-box, the
reply of its mamma should be—“ The
last time you had your toys you left
them lying on the floor, and Jane had to
pick them up. Jane is too busy to pick
up every day the things you leave about;
and I cannot do it myself. So that, as
you will not put away your toys when
you have done with them, I cannot let
you have them.” This is obviously a
natural consequence, neither increased
nor lessened ; and must be so recognised
by a child. The penalty comes, too, at
the moment when it is most keenly felt.
A new-born desire is balked at the
moment of anticipated gratification ; and
the strong impression so produced can
scarcely fail to have an effect on the
future conduct: an effect which, by
consistent repetition, will do whatever
can be done in curing the fault. Add
to which, that, by this method, a child
is early taught the lesson which cannot
be learnt too soon, that in this world of
ours pleasures are rightly to be obtained
only by labour.
Take another case. Not long since
we had frequently to hear the repri
mands visited on a little girl who was
scarcely ever ready in time for the daily
walk. Of eager disposition, and apt to
become absorbed in the occupation of
the moment, Constance never thought
of putting on her things till the rest were
ready. The governess and the other
children had almost invariably to wait;
and from the mamma there almost
invariably came the same scolding.
Utterly as this system failed, it never
occurred to the mamma to let Constance
experience the natural penalty. Nor,
indeed, would she try it when it was
suggested to her. In the world, un
readiness entails the loss of some
advantage that would else have been
gained : the train is gone ; or the steam
boat is just leaving its moorings ; or the
best things in the market are sold; or all
the good seats in the concert-room are
filled. And every one, in cases per
petually occurring, may see that it is the
prospective deprivations which prevent
people from being too late. Is not the
inference obvious ? Should not the pro
spective deprivations control a child’s
conduct also ? If Constance is not
ready at the appointed time, the natural
result is that of being left behind, and
losing her walk. And after having once
or twice remained at home while the rest
were enjoying themselves in the fields—
after having felt that this loss of a muchprized gratification was solely due to
want of promptitude; amendment would
in all probability take place. At any
rate, the measure would be more effective
than that perpetual scolding which ends
only in producing callousness.
Again, when children, with more than
�MORAL EDUCATION
usual carelessness, break or lose the
things given to them, the natural penalty
—the penalty which makes grown-up
persons more careful—is the consequent
inconvenience. The lack of the lost or
damaged article, and the cost of re
placing it, are the experiences by which
men and women are disciplined in these
matters; and the experiences of children
should be as much as possible assimilated
to theirs. We do not refer to that early
period at which toys are pulled to pieces
in the process of learning their physical
properties, and at which the results of
carelessness cannot be understood; but
to a later period, when the meaning and
advantages of property are perceived.
When a boy, old enough to possess a
penknife, uses it so roughly as to snap
the blade, or leaves it in the grass by
some hedge-side where he was cutting a
stick, a thoughtless parent, or some in
dulgent relative, will commonly forthwith
buy him another ; not seeing that, by
doing this, a valuable lesson is prevented.
In such a case, a father may properly
explain that penknives cost money, and
that to get money requires labour; that
ne cannot afford to purchase new pen
knives for one who loses or breaks them ;
and that until he sees evidence of greater
carefulness he must decline to make
good the loss. A parallel discipline will
serve to check extravagance.
These few familiar instances, here
chosen because of the simplicity with
which they illustrate our point, will
make clear to every one the distinction
between those natural penalties which
we contend are the truly efficient ones,
and those artificial penalties commonly
substituted for them. Before going on
to exhibit the higher and subtler applica
tions of the principle exemplified, let us
note its many and great superiorities over
the principle, or rather the empirical
79
practice, which prevails in most families.
One superiority is that the pursuance
of it generates right conceptions of cause
and effect; which by frequent and con
sistent experience are eventually rendered
definite and complete. Proper conduct
in life is much better guaranteed when
the good and evil consequences of actions
are understood, than when they are
merely believed on authority. A child
who finds that disordliness entails the
trouble of putting things in order, or
who misses a gratification from dilatori
ness, or whose carelessness is followed
by the want of some much-prized posses
sion, not only suffers a keenly-felt con
sequence, but gains a knowledge of
causation: both the one and the other
being just like those which adult life will
bring. Whereas a child who in such
cases receives a reprimand, or some
factitious penalty, not only experiences
a consequence for which it often cares
very little, but misses that instruction
respecting the essential natures of good
and evil conduct, which it would else
have gathered. It is a vice of the
common system of artificial rewards and
punishments, long since noticed by the
clear-sighted, that by substituting for the
natural results of misbehaviour certain
tasks or castigations, it produces a
radically wrong moral standard. Having
throughout infancy and boyhood always
regarded parental or tutorial displeasure
as the chief result of a forbidden action,
the youth has gained an established
association of ideas between such action
and such displeasure, as cause and effect.
Hence when parents and tutors have
abdicated, and their displeasure is not
to be feared, the restraints on forbidden
actions are in great measure removed:
the true restraints, the natural reactions,
having yet to be learnt by sad experience.
As writes one who has had personal
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EDUCATION
knowledge of this short-sighted system :—
“Young men let loose from school, par
ticularly those whose parents have
neglected to exert their influence, plunge
into every description of extravagance;
they know no rule of action—they are
ignorant of the reasons for moral conduct
—they have no foundation to rest upon
—and until they have been severely
disciplined by the world are extremely
dangerous members of society.”
Another great advantage of this natural
discipline is, that it is a discipline of
pure justice; and will be recognised as
such by every child. Whoso suffers
nothing more than the evil which in
the order of nature results from his
own misbehaviour, is much less likely to
think himself wrongly treated than if he
suffers an artificially inflicted evil; and
this will hold of children as of men.
Take the case of a boy who is habitually
reckless of his clothes—scrambles
through hedges without caution, or is
utterly regardless of mud. If he is
beaten, or sent to bed, he is apt to con
sider himself ill-used; and is more likely
to brood over his injuries than to repent
of his transgressions. But suppose he
is required to rectify as far as possible
the harm he has done—to clean off the
mud with which he has covered himself,
or to mend the tear as well as he can.
Will he not feel that the evil is one of
his own producing ? Will he not while
paying this penalty be continuously
conscious of the connection between
it and its cause ? And will he not,
spite of his irritation, recognise
more or less clearly the justice of the
arrangement ? If several lessons of this
kind fail to produce amendment—if suits
ff clothes are prematurely spoiled—if
the father, pursuing this same system of
discipline, declines to spend money for
new ones until the ordinary time has
elapsed—and if meanwhile, there occur
occasions on which, having no decent
clothes to go in, the boy is debarred
from joining the rest of the family on
holiday excursions and fete days, it is
manifest that while he will keenly feel
the punishment, he can scarcely fail to
trace the chain of causation, and to
perceive that his own carelessness is the
origin of it. And seeing this he will not
have any such sense of injustice as if
there were no obvious connection
between the transgression and its
penalty.
Again, the tempers both of parents
and children are much less liable to be
ruffled under this system than under the
ordinary system. When, instead of
letting children experience the painful
results which naturally follow from wrong
conduct, parents themselves inflict cer
tain other painful results, they produce
double mischief. Making, as they do,
multiplied family laws; and identifying
their own supremacy and dignity with the
maintenance of these laws; every trans
gression is regarded as an offence against
themselves, and a cause of anger on their
part. And then come the further vexa
tions which result from taking upon
themselves, in the shape of extra labour
or cost, those evil consequences which
should have been allowed to fall on the
wrong-doers. Similarly with the children.
Penalties which the necessary reaction
of things brings round upon them—
penalties which are inflicted by imper
sonal agency, produce an irritation that
is comparatively slight and transient;
whereas penalties voluntarily inflicted by
a parent, and afterwards thought of as
caused by him or her, produce an irrita
tion both greater and more continued.
Just consider how disastrous would be
the result if this empirical method wrere
pursued from the beginning. Suppose
�MORAL EDUCATION
it were possible for parents to take upon
themselves the physical sufferings en
tailed on their children by ignorance and
awkwardness; and that while bearing
these evil consequences they visited on
their children certain other evil conse
quences, with the view of teaching them
the impropriety of their conduct. Sup
pose that when a child, who had been
forbidden to meddle with the kettle,
spilt boiling water on its foot, the mother
vicariously assumed the scald and gave
a blow in place of it; and similarly in
all other cases. Would not the daily
mishaps be sources of far more anger
than now ? Would there not be chronic
ill-temper on both sides ? Yet an
exactly parallel policy is pursued in after
years. A father who beats his boy for
carelessly or wilfully breaking a sister’s
toy, and then himself pays for a new
toy, does substantially the same thing—
inflicts an artificial penalty on the trans
gressor, and takes the natural penalty on
himself: his own feelings and those of
the transgressor being alike needlessly
irritated. Did he simply require restitu
tion to be made, he would produce far
less heart-burning. If he told the boy
that a new toy must be bought at his,
the boy’s cost; and that his supply of
pocket-money must be withheld to the
needful extent; there would be much
less disturbance of temper on either side :
while in the deprivation afterwards felt,
the boy would experience the equitable
and salutary consequence. In brief, the
system of discipline by natural reactions
is less injurious to temper, both because
it is perceived to be nothing more than
pure justice, and because it in great
part substitutes the impersonal agency of
Nature for the personal agency of
parents.
Whence also follows the manifest corol
lary, that under this system the parental
81
and filial relation, being a more friendly,
will be a more influential one. Whether
in parent or child, anger, however
caused, and to whomsoever directed, is
detrimental. But anger in a parent
towards a child, and in a child towards
a parent, is especially detrimental;
because it weakens that bond of sym
pathy which is essential to beneficent
control. From the law of association of
ideas, it inevitably results, both in young
and old, that dislike is contracted
towards things which in experience are
habitually connected with disagreeable
feelings. Or where attachment originally
existed, it is diminished, or turned into
repugnance, according to the quantity of
painful impressions received. Parental
wrath, venting itself in reprimands and
castigations, cannot fail, if often repeated,
to produce filial alienation; while the
resentment and sulkiness of children
cannot fail to weaken the affection felt
for them, and may even end in destroy
ing it. Hence the numerous cases in
which parents (and especially fathers,
who are commonly deputed to inflict the
punishment) are regarded with indiffer
ence, if not with aversion; and hence
the equally numerous cases in which
children are looked upon as inflictions.
Seeing then, as all must do, that
estrangement of this kind is fatal to a
salutary moral culture, it follows that
parents cannot be too solicitous in
avoiding occasions of direct antagonism
with their children. And therefore they
cannot too anxiously avail themselves of
this discipline of natural consequences;
which, by relieving them from penal
functions, prevents mutual exasperations
and estrangements.
The method of moral culture by
experience of the normal reactions,
which is the divinely-ordained method
alike for infancy and for adult life, we thus
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EDUCATION
find to be equally applicable during the
intermediate childhood and youth.
Among the advantages of this method
we see:—First; that it gives that
rational knowledge of right and wrong
conduct which results from personal
experience of their good and bad con
sequences.
Second; that the child,
suffering nothing more than the painful
effects of its own wrong actions, must
recognise more or less clearly the justice
of the penalties. Third; that recognising
the justice of the penalties, and receiving
them through the working of things
rather than at the hands of an individual,
its temper is less disturbed; while the
parent, fulfilling the comparatively passive
duty of letting the natural penalties be
felt, preserves a comparative equanimity.
Fourth ; that mutual exasperations being
thus prevented, a much happier, and a
more influential relation, will exist
between parent and child.
“ But what is to be done in cases of
more serious misconduct ?” some will
ask. “ How is this plan to be carried
out when a petty theft has been com
mitted ? or when a lie has been told ?
or when some younger brother or sister
has been ill-used ?”
Before replying to these questions, let
us consider the bearings of a few illus
trative facts.
Living in the family of his brother-inlaw, a friend of ours had undertaken the
education of his little nephew and niece.
This he had conducted, more perhaps
from natural sympathy than from
reasoned-out conclusions, in the spirit
of the method above set forth. The
two children were in-doors his pupils
and out-of-doors his companions. They
daily joined him in walks and botanising
excursions, eagerly sought plants for
him, looked on while he examined and
identified them, and in this and other
ways were ever gaining pleasure and
instruction in his society. In short,
morally considered, he stood to them
much more in the position of parent
than either their father or mother did.
Describing to us the results of this policy,
he gave, among other instances, the
following. One evening, having need
for some article lying in another part of
the house, he asked his nephew to fetch
it. Interested as the boy was in some
amusement of the moment, he, contrary
to his wont, either exhibited great reluc
tance or refused, we forget which. His
uncle, disapproving of a coercive course,
went himself for that which he wanted :
merely exhibiting by his manner the
annoyance this ill-behaviour gave him.
And when, later in the evening, the boy
made overtures for the usual play, they
were gravely repelled—the uncle mani
fested just that coldness naturally pro
duced in him; and so let the boy feel
the necessary consequences of his con
duct. Next morning at the usual time
for rising, our friend heard a new voice
at the door, and in walked his little
nephew with the hot water. Peering
about the room to see what else could
be done, the boy then exclaimed, “ Oh !
you want your boots
and forthwith
rushed down-stairs to fetch them. In
this and other ways he showed a true
penitence for his misconduct. He
endeavoured by unusual services to make
up for the service he had refused. His
better feelings had made a real conquest
over his lower ones; and acquired
strength by the victory. And having
felt what it was to be without it, he
valued more than before the friendship
he thus regained.
This gentleman is now himself a father;
acts on the same system; and finds it
answer completely. He makes himself
�MORAL EDUCATION
thoroughly his children’s friend. The
evening is longed for by them because
he will be at home; and they especially
enjoy Sunday because he is with them
all day. Thus possessing their perfect
confidence and affection, he finds that
the simple display of his approbation or
disapprobation gives him abundant power
of control. If, on his return home, he
hears that one of his boys has been
naughty, he behaves towards him with
that coolness which the consciousness of
the boy’s misconduct naturally produces ;
and he finds this a most efficient punish
ment. The mere withholding of the
usual caresses, is a source of much
distress—produces a more prolonged fit
of crying than a beating would do. And
the dread of this purely moral penalty is,
he says, ever present during his absence :
so much so, that frequently during the
day his children ask their mamma how
they have behaved, and whether the
report will be good. Recently the
eldest, an active urchin of five, in one of
those bursts of animal spirits common
in healthy children, committed sundry
extravagances during his mamma’s
absence—cut off part of his brother’s
hair and wounded himself with a razor
taken from his father’s dressing-case.
Hearing of these occurrences on his
return, the father did not speak to the
boy either that night or next morning.
Besides the immediate tribulation the
effect was, that when, a few days after,
the mamma was about to go out, she
was entreated by the boy not to do so;
and on inquiry, it appeared his fear was
that he might again transgress in her
absence.
We have introduced these facts before
replying to the question—“ What is to
be done with the graver offences ?” for
the purpose of first exhibiting the rela
tion that may and ought to be estab
83
lished between parents and children;
for on the existence of this relation
depends the successful treatment of these
graver offences. And as a further pre
liminary, we must now point out that the
establishment of this relation will result
from adopting the system here advocated.
Already we have shown that by simply
letting a child experience the painful
reactions of its own wrong actions, a
parent avoids antagonism and escapes
being regarded as an enemy; but it
remains to be shown that where this
course has been consistently pursued
from the beginning, a feeling of active
friendship will be generated.
At present, mothers and fathers are
mostly considered by their offspring as
friend-enemies. Determined as the im
pressions of children inevitably are by
the treatment they receive; and oscil
lating as that treatment does between
bribery and thwarting, between petting
and scolding, between gentleness and
castigation ; they necessarily acquire con
flicting beliefs respecting the parental
character. A mother commonly thinks
it sufficient to tell her little boy that she
is his best friend; and assuming that he
ought to believe her, concludes that he
will do so. “ It is all for your good ”;
“ I know what is proper for you better
than you do yourself”; “You are not old
enough to understand it now, but when
you grow up you will thank me for
doing what I do”;—these, and like
assertions, are daily reiterated. Mean
while the boy is daily suffering positive
penalties; and is hourly forbidden to
do this, that, and the other, which he
wishes to do. By words he hears that
his happiness is the end in view; but
from the accompanying deeds he habitu
ally receives more or less pain. Incom
petent as he is to understand that future
which his mother has in view, or how
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EDUCATION
this treatment conduces to the happiness
of that future, he judges by the results he
feels; and finding such results anything
but pleasurable, he becomes sceptical
respecting her professions of friendship.
And is it not folly to expect any other
issue ? Must not the child reason from
the evidence he has got ? and does not
this evidence seem to warrant his con
clusion ? The mother would reason in
just the same way if similarly placed.
If, among her acquaintance, she found
some one who was constantly thwarting
her wishes, uttering sharp reprimands,
and occasionally inflicting actual penal
ties on her, she would pay small atten
tion to any professions of anxiety for her
welfare which accompanied these acts.
Why, then, does she suppose that her
boy will do otherwise ?
But now observe how different will be
the results if the system we contend for
be consistently pursued—if the mother
not only avoids becoming the instru
ment of punishment, but plays' the part
of a friend, by warning her boy of the
pun.’shment which Nature will inflict.
Take a case; and that it may illustrate
the mode in which this policy is to be
early initiated, let it be one of the
simplest cases. Suppose that, prompted
by the experimental spirit so conspicuous
in children, whose proceedings instinc
tively conform to the inductive method
of inquiry—suppose that so prompted,
the boy is amusing himself by lighting
pieces of paper in the candle and watch
ing them burn. A mother of the
ordinary unreflective stamp, will either,
on the plea of keeping him “ out of
mischief,” or from fear that he will burn
himself, command him to desist; and in
case of non-compliance will snatch the
paper from him. But should he be fortu
nate enough to have a mother of some
rationality, who knows that this interest
with which he is watching the paper burn,
results from a healthy inquisitiveness, and
who has also the wisdom to consider
the results of interference, she will
reason thus:—“If I put a stop to this
I shall prevent the acquirement of a
certain amount of knowledge.
It is
true that I may save the child from a
burn but what then ? He is sure to
burn himself some time; and it is quite
essential to his safety in life that he
should learn by experience the properties
of flame. If I forbid him from running
this present risk, he will certainly here
after run the same or a greater risk when
no one is present toprevent him; whereas,
should he have an accident now that
I am by, I can save him from any great
injury. Moreover, were I to make him
desist, I should thwart him in the pursuit
of what is in itself a purely harmless, and
indeed, instructive gratification; and he
would regard me with more or less illfeeling. Ignorant as he is of the pain
from which I would save him, and feeling
only the pain of a baulked desire, he
could not fail to look on me as the
cause of that pain. To save him from a
hurt which he cannot conceive, and
which has therefore no existence for
him, I hurt him in a way which he feels
keenly enough; and so become, from
his point of view, a minister of evil. My
best course, then, is simply to warn him
of the danger, and to be ready to prevent
any serious damage.” And following
out this conclusion, she says to the child
—“ I fear you will hurt yourself if you
do that.” Suppose, now, that the boy,
persevering as he will probably do, ends
by burning his hand. What are the
results ? In the first place he has gained
an experience which he must gain
eventually, and which, for his own safety,
he cannot gain too soon. And in the
second place, he has found that his
�MORAL EDUCATION
mother’s disapproval or warning was
meant for his welfare : he has a further
positive experience of her benevolence
a further reason for placing confidence
in her judgment and kindness—a further
reason for loving her.
Of course, in those occasional hazards
where there is a risk of broken limbs or
other serious injury, forcible prevention
is called for. But leaving out extreme
cases, the system pursued should be, not
that of guarding a child from the small
risks which it daily runs, but that of
advising and warning it against them.
And by pursuing this course, a much
stronger filial affection will be generated
than commonly exists. If here, as else
where, the discipline of the natural
reactions is allowed to come into play
if in those out-door scrambling and in
door experiments, by which children are
liable to injure themselves, they are
allowed to persist, subject only to dis
suasion more or less earnest according
to the danger, there cannot fail to arise
an ever-increasing faith in the parental
friendship and guidance. Not only, as
before shown, does the adoption of this
course enable fathers and mothers to
avoid the odium which attaches to the
infliction of positive punishment; but,
as we here see, it enables them to avoid
the odium which attaches to constant
thwartings j and even to turn those
incidents that commonly cause squabbles
into a means of strengthening the mutual
good feeling. Instead of being told in
words, which deeds seem to contradict,
that their parents are their best friends,
children will learn this truth by a con
sistent daily experience; and so learning
it, will acquire a degree of trust and
attachment which nothing else can give.
And now, having indicated the more
sympathetic relation which must result
from the habitual use of this method,
85
let us return to the question above put
—How is this method to be applied to
the graver offences ?
Note, in the first place, that these
graver offences are likely to be both less
frequent and less grave under the régime
we have described than under the ordi
nary régime. The ill-behaviour of many
children is in itself a consequence of
that chronic irritation in which they are
kept by bad management. The state of
isolation and antagonism produced by
frequent punishment, necessarily deadens
the sympathies ; necessarily, therefore,
opens the way to those transgressions
which the sympathies check.
That
harsh treatment which children of the
same family inflict on each other is often,
in great measure, a reflex of the harsh
treatment they receive from adults
partly suggested by direct example, and
partly generated by the ill-temper and
the tendency to vicarious retaliation,
which follow chastisements and scoldings.
It cannot be questioned that the greater
activity of the affections and happier
state of feeling, maintained in children
by the discipline we have described,
must prevent them from sinning against
each other so gravely and so frequently.
The still more reprehensible offences, as
lies and petty thefts, will, by the same
causes, be diminished. Domestic estrange
ment is a fruitful source of such trans
gressions. It is a law of human nature,
visible enough to all who observe, that
those who are debarred the higher grati
fications fall back upon the lower ; those
who have no sympathetic pleasures seek
selfish ones ; and hence, conversely, the
maintenance of happier relations between
parents and children is calculated to
diminish the number of those offences
of which selfishness is the origin.
When, however, such offences are
committed, as they will occasionally be
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EDUCATION
even under the best system, the discipline
of consequences may still be resorted to;
and if there exists that bond of con
fidence and affection above described,
this discipline will be efficient. For
what are the natural consequences, say,
of a theft ? They are of two kinds—
direct and indirect. The direct conse
quence, as dictated by pure equity, is
that of making restitution. A just ruler
(and every parent should aim to be one)
will demand that, when possible, a wrong
act shall be undone by a right one; and
in the case of theft this implies either
the restoration of the thing stolen, or, if
it is consumed, the giving of an equiva
lent : which, in the case of a child, may
be effected out of its pocket-money.
The indirect and more serious conse
quence is the grave displeasure of parents
—a consequence which inevitably follows
among all peoples civilised enough to
regard theft as a crime. “ But,” it will'
be said, “ the manifestation of parental
displeasure, either in words or blows, is
the ordinary course in these cases : the
method leads here to nothing new.”
Very true. Already we have admitted
that, in some directions, this method is
spontaneously pursued.
Already we
have shown that there is a tendency for
educational systems to gravitate towards
the true system. And here we may
remark, as before, that the intensity of
this natural reaction will, in the beneficent
order of things, adjust itself to the
requirements—that this parental dis
pleasure will vent itself in violent
measures during comparatively barbarous
times, when children are also compara
tively barbarous; and will express itself
less cruelly in those more advanced
social states in which, by implication,
the children are amenable to milder
treatment. But what it chiefly concerns
us here to observe is, that the manifesta
tion of strong parental displeasure, pro
duced by one of these graver offences,
will be potent for good, just in proportion
to the warmth of the attachment existing
between parent and child. Just in pro
portion as the discipline of natural con
sequences has been consistently pursued
in other cases, will it be efficient in this
case. Proof is within the experience of
all, if they will look for it.
For does not every one know that
when he has offended another, the
amount of regret he feels (of course,
leaving worldly considerations out of the
question) varies with the degree of
sympathy he has for that other ? Is he
not conscious that when the person
offended is an enemy, the having given
him annoyance is apt to be a source
rather of secret satisfaction than of
sorrow ? Does he not remember that
where umbrage has been taken by some
total stranger, he has felt much less con
cern than he would have done had such
umbrage been taken by one with whom
he was intimate ? While, conversely,
has not the anger of an admired and
cherished friend been regarded by him
as a serious misfortune, long and keenly
regretted ? Well, the effects of parental
displeasure on children must similarly
vary with the pre-existing relationship.
Where there is an established alienation,
the feeling of a child who has trans
gressed is a purely selfish fear of the
impending physical penalties or depriva
tions ; and after these have been inflicted,
the injurious antagonism and dislike
which result, add to the alienation. On
the contrary, where there exists a warm
filial affection produced by a consistent
parental friendship, the state of mind
caused by parental displeasure is not
only a salutary check to future miscon
duct of like kind, but is intrinsically
salutary. The moral pain consequent
�MORAL EDUCATION
on having, for the time being, lost so
loved a friend, stands in place of the
physical pain usually inflicted, and
proves equally, if not more, efficient.
While instead of the fear and vindictive
ness excited by the one course, there are
excited by the other a sympathy with
parental sorrow, a genuine regret for
having caused it, and a desire, by some
atonement, to re-establish the friendly
relationship. Instead of bringing into
play those egotistic feelings whose pre
dominance is the cause of criminal acts,
there are brought into play those altruistic
feelings which check criminal acts, fl hus
the discipline of natural consequences
is applicable to grave as well as trivial
faults; and the practice of it conduces
not simply to the repression, but to the
eradication of such faults.
In brief, the truth is that savageness
begets savageness, and gentleness begets
gentleness. Children who are unsympa
thetically treated become unsympathetic;
whereas treating them with due fellowfeeling is a means of cultivating their
fellow-feeling. With family governments
as with political ones, a harsh despotism
itself generates a great part of the crimes
it has to repress; while on the other
hand a mild and liberal rule both avoids
many causes of dissension, and so
ameliorates the tone of feeling as to
diminish the tendency to transgression.
As John Locke long since remarked,
“Great severity of punishment does but
very little good, nay, great harm, in
education; and I believe it will be found
that, cceteris paribus, those children who
have been most chastised seldom make
the best men.” In confirmation of which
opinion we may cite the fact not long
since made public by Mr. Rogers,
Chaplain of the Pentonville Prison, that
those juvenile criminals who have been
whipped are those who most frequently
87
return to prison. Conversely, the bene
ficial effects of a kinder treatment, are
well illustrated in a fact stated to us by
a French lady, in whose house we recently
stayed in Paris. Apologising for the dis
turbance daily caused by a little boy who
was unmanageable both at home and at
school, she expressed her fear that there
was no remedy save that which had
succeeded in the case of an elder brother;
namely, sending him to an English school.
She explained that at various schools in
Paris this elder brother had proved
utterly untractable; that in despair they
had followed the advice to send him to
England; and that on his return home
he was as good as he had before been
bad.
This remarkable change she
ascribed entirely to the comparative
mildness of the English discipline.
After the foregoing exposition of
principles, our remaining space may best
be occupied by a few of the chief maxims
and rules deducible from them; and
with a view to brevity we will put these
in a hortatory form.
Do not expect from a child any great
amount of moral goodness.
During
early years every civilised man passes
through that phase of character exhibited
by the barbarous race from which he is
descended. As the child’s features—
flat nose, forward-opening nostrils, large
lips, wide-apart eyes, absent frontal sinus,
&c.—resemble for a time those of the
savage, so, too, do his instincts. Hence
the tendencies to cruelty, to thieving,
to lying, so general among children—
tendencies which, even without the aid
of discipline, will become more or less
modified just as the features do. The
popular idea that children are “innocent,”
while it is true with respect to evil know
ledge, is totally false with respect to evil
impulses; as half an hour’s observation
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EDUCATION
in the nursery will prove to any one.
Boys when left to themselves, as at
public schools, treat each other more
brutally than men do; and were they
left to themselves at an earlier age
their brutality would be still more con
spicuous.
Not only is it unwise to set up a high
standard of good conduct for children,
but it is even unwise to use very urgent
incitements to good conduct. Already
most people recognise the detrimental
results of intellectual precocity; but there
remains to be recognised the fact that
moral precocity also has detrimental
results. Our higher moral faculties, like
our higher intellectual ones, are com
paratively complex.
By consequence
both are comparatively late in their
evolution. And with the one as with
the other, an early activity produced by
stimulation will be at the expense of the
future character. Hence the not un
common anomaly that those who during
childhood were models of juvenile good
ness, by-and-by undergo a seemingly
inexplicable change for the worse, and
end by being not above but below par;
while relatively exemplary men are often
the issue of a childhood by no means
promising.
Be content, therefore, with moderate
measures and moderate results. Bear
in mind that a higher morality, like a
higher intelligence, must be reached by
slow growth; and you will then have
patience with those imperfections which
your child hourly displays. You will be
less prone to that constant scolding, and
threatening, and forbidding, by which
many parents induce a chronic domestic
irritation, in the foolish hope that they
will thus make their children what they
should be.
This liberal form of domestic govern
ment, which does not seek despotically
to regulate all the details of a child’s
conduct, necessarily results from the
system we advocate. Satisfy yourself
with seeing that your child always
suffers the natural consequences of his
actions, and you will avoid that excess
of control in which so many parents err.
Leave him wherever you can to the
discipline of experience, and you will
save him from that hot-house virtue
which over-regulation produces in
yielding natures, or that demoralising
antagonism which it produces in inde
pendent ones.
By aiming in all cases to insure the
natural reactions to your child’s actions,
you will put an advantageous check on
your own temper. The method of
moral education pursued by many, we
fear by most, parents, is little else than
that of venting their anger in the way
that first suggests itself. The slaps, and
rough shakings, and sharp words, with
which a mother commonly visits her
offspring’s small offences (many of them
not offences considered intrinsically), are
generally but the manifestations of her
ill-controlled feelings—result much more
from the promptings of those feelings
than from a wish to benefit the offenders.
But by pausing in each case of trans
gression to consider what is the normal
consequence, and how it may best be
brought home to the transgressor, some
little time is obtained for the mastery of
yourself; the mere blind anger first
aroused settles down into a less vehement
feeling, and one not so likely to mislead
you.
Do not, however, seek to behave as a
passionless instrument. Remember that
besides the natural reactions to your
child’s actions which the working of
things tends to bring round on him, your
own approbation or disapprobation is
also a natural reaction, and one of the
�MORAL EDUCATION
ordained agencies for guiding him. The
error we have been combating is that of
substituting parental displeasure and its
artificial penalties for the penalties which
Nature has established. But while it
should not be substituted for these
natural penalties, we by no means argue
that it should not accompany them.
Though the secondary kind of punish
ment should not usurp the place of the
primary kind; it may, in moderation,
rightly supplement the primary kind.
Such amount of sorrow or indignation as
you feel, should be expressed in words
or manner : subject, of course, to the
approval of your judgment. The kind
and degree of feeling produced in you,
will necessarily depend on your own
character; and it is therefore useless to
say it should be this or that. Neverthe
less you may endeavour to modify the
feeling into that which you believe
ought to be entertained. Beware, how
ever, of the two extremes ; not only in
respect of the intensity, but in respect of
the duration, of your displeasure. On
the one hand, avoid that weak impul
siveness, so general among mothers,
which scolds and forgives almost in the
same breath. On the other hand, do
not unduly continue to show estrange
ment of feeling, lest you accustom your
child to do without your friendship, and
so lose your influence over him. The
moral reactions called forth from you by
your child’s actions, you should as much
as possible assimilate to those which you
conceive would be called forth from a
parent of perfect nature.
Be sparing of commands. Command
only when other means are inexplicable,
or have failed. “ In frequent orders the
parents’ advantage is more considered
than the child’s,” says Richter. As in
primitive societies a breach of law is
punished, not so much because it is
89
intrinsically wrong as because it is a
disregard of the king’s authority—a
rebellion against him; so in many
families, the penalty visited on a trans
gressor is prompted less by reprobation
of the offence than by anger at the dis
obedience. Listen to the ordinary
speeches—“ How dare you disobey me ?”
“ I tell you I’ll make you do it, sir
“ I’ll soon teach you who is master ”—
and then consider what the words, the
tone, and the manner imply. A deter
mination to subjugate is far more con
spicuous in them than anxiety for the
child’s welfare. For the time being the
attitude of mind differs but little from
that of a despot bent on punishing a
recalcitrant subject. The right-feeling
parent, however, like the philanthropic
legislator, will rejoice not in coercion,
but in dispensing with coercion. He
will do without law wherever other
modes of regulating conduct can be
successfully employed; and he will
regret the having recourse to law when
law is necessary. As Richter remarks—
“ The best rule in politics is said to be
1 pas trop gouverner’: it is also true in
education.” And in spontaneous con
formity with this maxim, parents whose
lust of dominion is restrained by a true
sense of duty, will aim to make their
children control themselves as much as
possible, and will fall back upon abso
lutism only as a last resort.
But whenever you do command, com
mand with decision and consistency. If
the case is one which really cannot be
otherwise dealt with, then issue your fiat,
and having issued it, never afterwards
swerve from it. Consider well what you
are going to do; weigh all the conse
quences ; think whether you have
adequate firmness of purpose; and then,
if you finally make the law, enforce
obedience at whatever cost. Let your
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EDUCATION
penalties be like the penalties inflicted
by inanimate Nature—inevitable. The
hot cinder burns a child the first time he
seizes it; it burns him the second time ;
it burns him the third time; it burns him
every time; and he very soon learns not
to touch the hot cinder. If you are
equally consistent—if the consequences
which you tell your child will follow
specified acts, follow with like uniformity,
he will soon come to respect your laws
as he does those of Nature. And this
respect once established, will prevent
endless domestic evils. Of errors in
education one of the worst is incon
sistency. As in a community, crimes
multiply when there is no certain
administration of justice; so in a family,
an immense increase of transgressions
results from a hesitating or irregular
infliction of punishments. A weak
mother, who perpetually threatens and
rarely performs—who makes rules in
haste and repents of them at leisure—
who treats the same offence now with
severity and now with leniency, as the
passing humour dictates, is laying up
miseries for herself and her children.
She is making herself contemptible in
their eyes; she is setting them an
example of uncontrolled feelipgs; she
is encouraging them to transgress by the
prospect of probable impunity; she is
entailing endless squabbles and accom
panying damage to her own temper and
the tempers of her little ones; she is
reducing their minds to a moral chaos,
which after-years of bitter experience
will with difficulty bring into order.
Better even a barbarous form of domestic
government carried out consistently than
a humane one inconsistently carried out.
Again we say, avoid coercive measures
wherever it is possible to do so; but
when you find despotism really neces
sary, be despotic in good earnest.
Remember that the aim of your
discipline should be to produce a selfgoverning being; not to produce a being
to be governed by others. Were your
children fated to pass their lives as
slaves, you could not too much accustom
them to slavery during their childhood;
but as they are by-and-by to be free men,
with no one to control their daily con
duct, you cannot too much accustom
them to self-control while they are still
under your eye. This it is which makes
the system of discipline by natural con
sequences, so especially appropriate tothe social state which we in England
have now reached. In feudal times,,
when one of the chief evils the citizen
had to fear was the anger of his superiors,
it was well that during childhood, parental
vengeance should be a chief means of
government. But now that the citizen
has little to fear from any one—now that
the good or evil which he experiences is
mainly that which in the order of things
results from his own conduct, he should
from his first years begin to learn, experi
mentally, the good or evil consequences
which naturally follow this or that con
duct. Aim, therefore, to diminish the
parental government, as fast as you can
substitute for it in your child’s mind that
self-government arising from a foresight
of results. During infancy a considerable
amount of absolutism is necessary. A
three-year old urchin playing with an
open razor, cannot be allowed to learn
by this discipline of consequences; for
the consequences may be too serious.
But as intelligence increases, the number
of peremptory interferences may be, and
should be, diminished; with the view
of gradually ending them as maturity
is approached.
All transitions aredangerous ; and the most dangerousis the transition from the restraint of
the family circle to the non-restraint of
�MORAL EDUCATION
the world. Hence the importance of
pursuing the policy we advocate; which,
by cultivating a boy’s faculty of self
restraint, by continually increasing the
degree in which he is left to his self
restraint, and by so bringing him, step
by step, to a state of unaided self-restraint,
obliterates the ordinary sudden and
hazardous change from externallygoverned youth to internally-governed
maturity.
Let the history of your
domestic rule typify, in little, the history
of our political rule: at the outset,
autocratic control, where control is really
needful; by-and-by an incipient consti
tutionalism, in which the liberty of the
subject gains some express recognition;
successive extensions of this liberty of
the subject; gradually ending in parental
abdication.
Do not regret the display of consider
able self-will on the part of your children.
It is the correlative of that diminished
coerciveness so conspicuous in modern
education. The greater tendency to
assert freedom of action on the one side,
corresponds to the smaller tendency to
tyrannise on the other. They both
indicate an approach to the system of
discipline we contend for, under which
children will be more and more led to
rule themselves by the experience of
natural consequences; and they are both
accompaniments of our more advanced
social state. The independent English
boy is the father of the independent
English man; and you cannot have the
last without the first. German teachers
say that they had rather manage a dozen
German boys than one English one.
Shall we, therefore, wish that our boys
had the manageableness of German
ones, and with it the submissiveness and
political serfdom of adult Germans ?
Or shall we not rather tolerate in our
boys those feelings which make them
free men, and modify our methods
accordingly ?
Lastly, always recollect that to edu
cate rightly is not a simple and easy
thing, but a complex and extremely
difficult thing, the hardest task which
devolves on adult life. The rough and
ready style of domestic government is
indeed practicable by the meanest and
most uncultivated intellects. Slaps and
sharp words are penalties that suggest
themselves alike to the least reclaimed
barbarian and the stolidest peasant.
Even brutes can use this method of
discipline; as you may see in the growl
and half-bite with which a bitch will
check a too-exigeant puppy- But if you
would carry out with success a rational'
and civilised system, you must be pre
pared for considerable mental exertion—■
for some study, some ingenuity, some
patience, some self-control. You will
have habitually to consider what are the
results which in adult life follow certain
kinds of acts; and you must then devise
methods by which parallel results shall
be entailed on the parallel acts of your
children. It will daily be needful to
analyse the motives of juvenile conduct
—to distinguish between acts that are
really good and those which, though
simulating them, proceed from inferior
impulses; while you will have to be ever
on your guard against the cruel mistake
not unfrequently made, of translating
neutral acts into transgressions, or
ascribing worse feelings than were enter
tained. You must more or less modify
your method to suit the disposition of
each child; and must be prepared to
make further modifications as each
child’s disposition enters on a new phase.
Your faith will often be taxed to main
tain the requisite perseverance in a
course which seems to produce little or
no effect. Especially if you are dealing
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EDUCATION
with children who have been wrongly
treated, you must be prepared for a
lengthened trial of patience before suc
ceeding with better methods; since that
which is not easy even where a right
state of feeling has been established
from the beginning, becomes doubly
difficult when a wrong state of feeling
has to be set right. Not only will you
have constantly to analyse the motives
of your children, but you will have to
analyse your own motives—to discrimi
nate between those internal suggestions
springing from a true parental solicitude
and those which spring from your own
selfishness, your love of ease, your lust of
dominion. And then, more trying still,
you will have not only to detect, but to
curb these baser impulses. In brief,
you will have to carry on your own
higher education at the same time that
you are educating your children. Intel
lectually you must cultivate to good
purpose that most complex of subjects—
human nature and its laws, as exhibited
in your children, in yourself, and in the
world. Morally, you must keep in con
stant exercise your higher feelings, and
restrain your lower. It is a truth yet
remaining to be recognised, that the last
stage in the mental development of each
man and woman is to be reached only
through a proper discharge of the
parental duties. And when this truth is
recognised, it will be seen how admirable
is the arrangement through which human
beings are led by their strongest affec
tions to subject themselves to a discipline
that they would else elude.
While some will regard this concep
tion of education as it should be, with
doubt and discouragement, others will,
we think, perceive in the exalted ideal
which it involves, evidence of its truth.
That it cannot be realised by the impul
sive, the unsympathetic, and the short
sighted, but demands the higher attri
butes of human nature, they will see to
be evidence of its fitness for the more
advanced state of humanity. Though it
calls for much labour and self-sacrifice,
they will see that it promises an abundant
return of happiness, immediate and
remote. They will see that while in its
injurious effects on both parent and
child a bad system is twice cursed, a
good system is twice blessed—it blesses
him that trains and him that’s trained.
CHAPTER IV.
PHYSICAL EDUCATION
Equally at the squire’s table after the
withdrawal of the ladies, at the farmers’
market ordinary, and at the village ale
house, the topic which, after the political
question of the day, excites the most
general interest, is the management of
animals. Riding home from hunting,
the conversation usually gravitates towards
horse-breeding, and pedigrees, and com
ments on this or that “good point”;
while a day on the moors is very unlikely
to end without something being said on
the treatment of dogs. When crossing
the fields together from church, the
tenants of adjacent farms are apt to pass
from criticisms on the sermon to criticisms
on the weather, the crops, and the stock;
and thence to slide into discussions on
the various kinds of fodder and their
feeding qualities. Hodge and Giles,
after comparing notes over their respective
pig-styes, show by their remarks that
they have been observant of their masters’
beasts and sheep ; and of the effects
produced on them by this or that kind
of treatment. Nor is it only among the
�PHYSICAL EDUCATION
rural population that the regulations of
the kennel, the stable, the cow-shed, and
the sheep-pen, are favourite subjects.
In towns, too, the numerous artizans
who keep dogs, the young men who are
rich enough to now and then indulge
their sporting tendencies, and their more
staid seniors who talk over agricultural
progress or read Mr. Mechi’s annual
reports and Mr. Caird’s letters to the
Times, form, when added together, a
large portion of the inhabitants. Take
the adult males throughout the kingdom,
and a great majority will be found to
show some interest in the breeding,
rearing, or training of animals of one
kind or other.
But, during after-dinner conversations,
or at other times of like intercourse, who
hears anything said about the rearing of
children ? When the country gentleman
has paid his daily visit to the stable,
and personally inspected the condition
and treatment of his horses ; when he
has glanced at his minor live stock,
and given directions about them; how
often does he go up to the nursery and
examine into its dietary, its hours, its
ventilation ? On his library-shelves may
be found White’s Farriery, Stephens’s
Book of the Farm, Nimrod On the
Condition of Hunters-, and with the con
tents of these he is more or less familiar;
but how many books has he read on the
management of infancy and childhood ?
The fattening properties of oil-cake, the
relative values of hay and chopped straw,
the dangers of unlimited clover, are points
bn which every landlord, farmer, and
peasant has some knowledge ; but what
percentage of them inquire whether the
food they give their children is adapted
to the constitutional needs of growing
boys and girls ? Perhaps the business
interests of these classes will be assigned
as accounting for this anomaly. The
93
explanation is inadequate, however;
seeing that the same contrast holds
among other classes. Of a score of
townspeople, few, if any, would prove
ignorant of the fact that it is undesirable
to work a horse soon after it has eaten ;
and yet, of this same score, supposing
them all to be fathers, probably not one
would be found who had considered
whether the time elapsing between his
children’s dinner and their resumption
of lessons was sufficient. Indeed, on
cross-examination, nearly every man
would disclose the latent opinion that
the regimen of the nursery was no concern
of his. “ Oh, I leave all those things to
the women,” would probably be the reply.
And in most cases the tone of this reply
would convey the implication, that such
cares are not consistent with masculine
dignity.
Regarded from any but a conventional
point of view, the fact seems strange that
while the raising of first-rate bullocks is
an occupation on which educated men
willingly bestow much time and thought,
the bringing up of fine human beings is
an occupation tacitly voted unworthy of
their attention. Mammas who have been
taught little but languages, music, and
accomplishments, aided by nurses full of
antiquated prejudices, are held competent
regulators of the food, clothing, and
exercise of children. Meanwhile the
fathers read books and periodicals, attend
agricultural meetings, try experiments,
and engage in discussions, all with the
view of discovering how to fatten prize
pigs ! We see infinite pains taken to
produce a racer that shall win the Derby :
none to produce a modern athlete. Had
Gulliver narrated of the Laputans that
the men vied with each other in learning
how best to rear the offspring of other
creatures, and were careless of learning
how best to rear their own offspring, he
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EDUCATION
would have paralleled any of the other
absurdities he ascribes to them.
The matter is a serious one, however.
Ludicrous as is the antithesis, the fact
it expresses is not less disastrous. As
remarks a suggestive writer, the first
requisite to success in life is “to be a
good animal and to be a nation of
good animals is the first condition to
national prosperity. Not only is it that
the event of a war often turns on the
strength and hardiness of soldiers; but
it is that the contests of commerce are
in part determined by the bodily endu
rance of producers. Thus far we have
found no reason to fear trials of strength
with other races in either of these fields.
But there are not wanting signs that our
powers will presently be taxed to the
uttermost. The competition of modern
life is so keen, that few can bear the
required application without injury.
Already thousands break down under
the high pressure they are subject to. If
this pressure continues to increase, as it
seems likely to do, it will try severely
even the soundest constitutions. Hence
it is becoming of especial importance
that the training of children should be
so carried on, as not only to fit
them mentally for the struggle before
them, but also to make them physi
cally fit to bear its excessive wear and
tear.
Happily the matter is beginning to
attract attention. The writings of Mr.
Kingsley indicate a reaction against over
culture ; carried perhaps, as reactions
usually are, somewhat too far. Occasional
letters and leaders in the newspapers
have shown an awakening interest in
physical training. And the formation
of a school, significantly nicknamed
that of “ muscular Christianity,” implies
a growing opinion that our present
methods of bringing up children do
not sufficiently regard the welfare of
the body. The topic is evidently ripe
for discussion.
To conform the regimen of the nursery
and the school to the established truths of
modern science —this is the desideratum.
It is time that the benefits which our
sheep and oxen are deriving from the
investigations of the laboratory, should
be participated in by our children.
Without calling in question the great
importance of horse-training and pig
feeding, we would suggest that, as the
rearing of well-grown men and women
is also of some moment, these conclusions
which theory indicates and practice
indorses, ought to be acted on in the
last case as in the first. Probably not
a few will be startled—perhaps offended
—by this collocation of ideas. But it
is a fact not to be disputed, and to which
we must reconcile ourselves, that man
is subject to the same organic laws as
inferior creatures. No anatomist, no
physiologist, no chemist, will for a
moment hesitate to assert, that the
general principles which are true of
the vital processes in animals are equally
true of the vital processes in man. And
a candid admission of this fact is not
without its reward: namely, that the
generalisations established by observation
and experiment on brutes, become avail
able for human guidance. Rudimentary
as is the Science of Life, it has already
attained to certain fundamental principles
underlying the development of all
organisms, the human included. That
which has now to be done, and that
which we shall endeavour in some measure
to do, is to trace the bearings of these
fundamental principles on the physical
training of childhood and youth.
The rhythmical tendency which is
traceable in all departments of social
�PHYSICAL EDUCATION
95
life—which is illustrated in the access of easily corrected, that those of inanition.”1
despotism after revolution, or, among Besides, where there has been no
ourselves, in the alternation of reforming injudicious interference, repletion seldom
epochs and conservative epochs—which, occurs. “ Excess is the vice rather of
after a dissolute age, brings an age of adults than of the young, who are rarely
asceticism, and conversely,—which, in either gourmands or epicures, unless
commerce, produces the recurring infla through the fault of those who rear
tions and panics—which carries the them.”2 This system of restriction
devotees of fashion from one absurd which many parents think so necessary,
extreme to the opposite one :— this is based upon inadequate observation,
rhythmical tendency affects also our and erroneous reasoning. There is an
table-habits, and by implication, the over-legislation in the nursery, as well as
dietary of the young. After a period an over-legislation in the State ; and one
distinguished by hard drinking and hard of the most injurious forms of it is this
eating, has come a period of comparative limitation in the quantity of food.
“ But are children to be allowed to
sobriety, which, in teetotalism and
vegetarianism, exhibits extreme forms surfeit themselves ? Shall they be suffere d
of protest against the riotous living of to take their fill of dainties and make
the past. And along with this change themselves ill, as they certainly will do ?”
in the regimen of adults, has come a As thus put, the question admits of but
parallel change in the regimen for boys one reply. But as thus put, it assumes
and girls. In past generations the the point at issue. We contend that,
belief was, that the more a child could as appetite is a good guide to all the
be induced to eat the better; and even lower creation—as it is a good guide to
now, among farmers and in remote the infant—as it is a good guide to the
districts, where traditional ideas most invalid—as it is a good guide to the
linger, parents may be found who tempt differently-placed races of men—and as
their children into repletion. But among it is a good guide for every adult who
the educated classes, who chiefly display leads a healthful life ; it may safely be
this reaction towards abstemiousness, inferred that it is a good guide for child
there may be seen a decided leaning hood. It would be strange indeed were
to the under-feeding, rather than the it here alone untrustworthy.
Perhaps some will read this reply with
over-feeding of children. Indeed their
disgust for by-gone animalism, is more impatience; being able, as they think,
clearly shown in the treatment of their to cite facts totally at variance with it.
offspring than in the treatment of them It may appear absurd if we deny the
selves; for while their disguised asceticism relevancy of these facts. And yet the
is, in so far as their personal conduct is paradox is quite defensible. The truth
concerned, kept in check by their appe is, that the instances of excess which
tites, it has full play in legislating for such persons have in mind, are usually
the consequences of the restrictive system
juveniles.
That over-feeding and under-feeding they seem to justify. They are the
are both bad, is a truism. Of the two, sensual reactions caused by an ascetic
They illustrate on a small
however, the last is the worst. As writes regimen.
a high authority, “ the effects of casual
1 Cyclopedia of Practical Medicine.
3 lb.
repletion are less prejudicial, and more
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EDUCATION
scale that commonly-remarked truth,
that those who during youth have been
subject to the most, rigorous discipline,
are apt afterwards to rush into the wildest
extravagances. They are analogous to
those frightful phenomena, once not
uncommon in convents, where nuns
suddenly lapsed from the extremest
austerities into an almost demoniac
wickedness.
They simply exhibit the
uncontrollable vehemence of long-denied
desires.
Consider the ordinary tastes
and the ordinary treatment of children.
The love of sweets is conspicuous and
almost universal among them. Probably
ninety-nine people in a hundred presume
that there is nothing more in this than
gratification of the palate; and that, in
common with other sensual desires, it
should be discouraged. The physiolo
gist, however, whose discoveries lead
him to an ever-increasing reverence for
the arrangements of things, suspects
something more in this love of sweets
than is currently supposed ; and inquiry
confirms the suspicion. He finds that
sugar plays an important part in the
vital processes. Both saccharine and
fatty matters are eventually oxidised in
the body; and there is an accompanying
evolution of heat. Sugar is the form to
which sundry other compounds have to
be reduced before they are available as
heat-making food; and this formation
of sugar is carried on in the body. Not
only is starch changed into sugar in the
course of digestion, but it has been
proved by M. Claude Bernard that the
liver is a factory in which other con
stituents of food are transformed into
sugar: the need for sugar being so
imperative that it is even thus produced
from nitrogenous substances when no
others are given. Now, when to the
fact that children have a marked desire
for this valuable heat-food, we join the
fact that they have usually a marked
dislike to that food which gives out the
greatest amount of heat during oxidation
(namely, fat), we have reason for think
ing that excess of the one compensates
for defect of the other—that the organism
demands more sugar because it cannot
deal with much fat. Again, children are
fond of vegetable acids. Fruits of all
kinds are their delight; and, in the
absence of anything better, they will
devour unripe gooseberries and the
sourest of crabs. Now not only are
vegetable acids, in common with mineral
ones, very good tonics, and beneficial
as such when taken in moderation, but
they have, when administered in their
natural forms, other advantages. “ Ripe
fruit,” says Dr. Andrew Combe, “ is
more freely given on the Continent than
in this country; and, particularly when
the bowels act imperfectly, it is often
very useful.” See, then, the discord
between the instinctive wants of children
and their habitual treatment.
Here
are two dominant desires, which in
all probability express certain needs
of the child’s constitution ; and not only
are they ignored in the nursery-regimen,
but there is a general tendency to forbid
the gratification of them. Bread-andmilk in the morning, tea and bread-andbutter at night, or some dietary equally
insipid, is rigidly adhered to ; and any
ministration to the palate is thought
needless, or rather, wrong. What is the
consequence ?
When, on fête-days,
there is unlimited access to good things
—when a gift of pocket-money brings
the contents of the confectioner’s window
within reach, or when by some accident
the free run of a fruit-garden is obtained;
then the long-denied, and therefore
intense, desires lead to great excesses.
There is an impromptu carnival, due
partly to release from past restraints, and
�PHYSICAL EDUCATION
partly to the consciousness that a long
Lent will begin on the morrow. And
then, when the evils of repletion display
themselves, it is argued that children
must not be left to the guidance of their
appetites ! These disastrous results of
artificial restrictions, are themselves cited
as proving the need for further restric
tions ! We contend therefore, that the
reasoning used to justify this system of
interference is vicious. We contend
that, were children allowed daily to
partake of these more sapid edibles,
for which there is a physiological require
ment, they would rarely exceed, as they
now mostly do when they have the
opportunity: were fruit, as Dr. Combe
recommends, “ to constitute a part of
the regular food ” (given, as he advises,
not between meals, but along with them),
there would be none of that craving
which prompts the devouring of crabs
and sloes. And similarly in other cases.
Not only is it that the a priori reasons
for trusting the appetites of children are
strong; and that the reasons assigned
for distrusting them are invalid; but it
is that no other guidance is worthy of
confidence. What is the value of this
parental judgment, set up as an alterna
tive regulator ? When to “ Oliver asking
for more,” the mamma or governess says
“ No,” on what data does she proceed ?
She thinks he has had enough. But
where are her grounds for so thinking?
Has she some secret understanding with
the boy’s stomach—some clairvoyant
power enabling her to discern the needs
of his body ? If not, how can she safely
decide ? Does she not know that the
demand of the system for food is deter
mined by numerous and involved causes
•—varies with the temperature, with the
hygrometric state of the air, with the
electric state of the air—varies also
according to the exercise taken, accord
97
ing to the kind and quantity of food
eaten at the last meal, and according to
the rapidity with which the last meal was
digested? How can she calculate the
result of such a combination of causes ?
As we heard said by the father of a fiveyears-old boy, who stands a head taller
than most of his age, and is propor
tionately robust, rosy, and active :—“ I
can see no artificial standard by which
to mete out his food. If I say, ‘ this
much is enough,’ it is a mere guess ;
and the guess is as likely to be wrong as
right. Consequently, having no faith in
guesses, I let him eat his fill.” And,
certainly, any one judging of his policy
by its effects, would be constrained to
admit its wisdom. In truth, this con
fidence, with which most persons legislate
for the stomachs of their children, proves
their unacquaintance with physiology:
if they knew more, they would be more
modest.
“The pride of science is
humble when compared with the pride
of ignorance.” If any one would learn
how little faith is to be placed, in human
judgments, and how much in the preestablished arrangement of things, let
him compare the rashness of the inex
perienced physician with the caution of
the most advanced; or let him dip into
Sir John Forbes’s work, On Nature and
Art in the Cure of Disease ; and he will
see that, in proportion as men gain
knowledge of the laws of life, they come
to have less confidence in themselves, and
more in Nature.
Turning from the question of quantity
of food to that of quality, we may discern
the same ascetic tendency. Not simply
a restricted diet, but a comparatively low
diet, is thought proper for children. The
current opinion is, that they should have
but little animal food. Among the less
wealthy classes, economy seems to have
dictated this opinion—the wish has been
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EDUCATION
father to the thought. Parents not
affording to buy much meat, answer the
petitions of juveniles with—“Meat is
not good for little boys and girls ”; and
this, at first probably nothing but a con
venient excuse, has by repetition grown
into an article of faith. While the classes
with whom cost is no consideration, have
been swayed partly by the example of
the majority, partly by the influence of
nurses drawn from thp lower classes, and
in some measure by the reaction against
past animalism.
If, however, we inquire for the basis
of this opinion, we find little or none.
It is a dogma repeated and received
without proof, like that which, for thou
sands of years, insisted on swaddlingclothes. Very probably for the infant’s
stomach, not yet endowed with much
muscular power, meat, which requires
considerable trituration before it can be
made into chyme, is an unfit aliment.
But this objection does not tell against
animal food from which the fibrous part
has been extracted; nor does it apply
when, after the lapse of two or three
years, considerable muscular vigour has
been acquired. And while the evidence
in support of this dogma, partially valid
in the case of very young children, is not
valid in the case of older children, who
are, nevertheless, ordinarily treated in
conformity with it, the adverse evidence
is abundant and conclusive. The verdict
of science is exactly opposite to the
popular opinion.
We have put the
question to two of our leading physicians,
and to several of the most distinguished
physiologists, and they uniformly agree
in the conclusion, that children should
have a diet not less nutritive, but, if
anything, more nutritive than that of
adults.
I
The grounds for this conclusion are j
obvious, and the reasoning simple. It |
needs but to compare the vital processes
of a man with those of a boy, to see
that the demand for sustenance is rela
tively greater in the boy than in the
man. What are the ends for which a
man requires food ? Each day his body
undergoes more or less wear—wear
through muscular exertion, wear of the
nervous system through mental actions,
wear of the viscera in carrying on the
functions of life; and the tissue thuswasted has to be renewed. Each day,
too, by radiation, his body loses a large
amount of heat; and as, for the continu
ance of the vital actions, the temperature
of the body must be maintained, this loss
has to be compensated by a constant
production of heat: to which end certain
constituents of the body are ever under
going oxidation. To make up for the
day’s waste, and to supply fuel for the
day’s expenditure of heat, are, then, the
sole purposes for which the adult requires
food. Consider now, the case of the
boy. He, too, wastes the substance of
his body by action; and it needs but to
note his restless activity to see that, in
proportion to his bulk, he probably
wastes as much as a man. He, too,
loses heat by radiation; and, as his
body exposes a greater surface in pro
portion to its mass than does that of
a man, and therefore loses heat more
rapidly, the quantity of heat-food he
requires is, bulk for bulk, greater than
that required by a man. So that even
had the boy no other vital processes to
carry on than the man has, he would
need, relatively to his size, a somewhat
larger supply of nutriment. But, besides
repairing his body and maintaining its
heat, the boy has to make new tissue—
to grow. After waste and thermal loss
have been provided for, such surplus of
nutriment as remains, goes to the further
building up of the frame; and only in
�PHYSICAL EDUCATION
virtue of this surplus is normal growth
possible j the growth that sometimes
takes place in the absence of it, causing
a manifest prostration consequent upon
defective repair. It is true that because
of a certain mechanical law which can
not be here explained, a small organism
has an advantage over a large one in
the ratio between the sustaining and
destroying forces—an advantage, indeed,
to which the very possibility of growth
is owing.
But this admission only
makes it the more obvious that though
much adverse treatment may be borne
without this excess of vitality being quite
out-balanced; yet any adverse treatment,
by diminishing it, must diminish the
size or structural perfection reached.
How peremptory is the demand of the
unfolding organism for materials, is seen
alike in that “ school-boy hunger,” which
after-life rarely parallels in intensity, and
in the comparatively quick return of
appetite. And if there needs further
evidence of this extra necessity for
nutriment, we have it in the fact that,
during the famines following shipwrecks
and other disasters, the children are the
first to die.
This relatively greater need for nutri
ment being admitted, as it must be, the
question that remains is—shall we meet
it by giving an excessive quantity of what
may be called dilute food, or a more
moderate quantity of concentrated food ?
The nutriment obtainable from a given
weight of meat is obtainable only from
a larger weight of bread, or from a still
larger weight of potatoes, and so on.
To fulfil the requirement, the quantity
must be increased as the nutritiveness
is diminished. Shall we, then, respond
to the extra wants of the growing child
by giving an adequate quantity of food
as good as that of adults ? Or, regardless
of the fact that its stomach has to dispose
99
of a relatively larger quantity even of
this good food, shall we further tax it
By giving an inferior food in still greater
quantity?
The answer is tolerably obvious. The
more the labour of digestion is econo
mised, the more energy is left for the
purpose of growth and action. The
functions of the stomach and intestines
cannot be performed without a large
supply of blood and nervous power ; and
in the comparative lassitude that follows
a hearty meal, every adult has proof that
this supply of blood and nervous power
is at the expense of the system at large.
If the requisite nutriment is obtained
from a great quantity of innutritious
food, more work is entailed on the
viscera than when it is obtained from
a moderate quantity of nutritous food.
This extra work is so much loss—a
loss which in children shows itself
either in diminished energy, or in smaller
growth, or in both. The inference is,
then, that they should have a diet which
combines, as much as possible, nutritive
ness and digestibility.
It is doubtless true that boys and girls
may be reared upon an exclusively,
or almost exclusively, vegetable diet.
Among the upper classes are to be
found children to whom comparatively
little meat is given; and who, neverthe
less, grow and appear in good health.
Animal food is scarcely tasted by the
offspring of labouring people, and yet
they reach a healthy maturity.
But
these seemingly adverse facts have by no
means the weight commonly supposed.
In the first place, it does not follow that
those who in early years flourish on
bread and potatoes, will eventually reach
a fine development; and a comparison
between the agricultural labourers and
the gentry, in England, or between the
middle and lower classes in France,
�•TOO
EDUCATION
is by no means in favour of vegetable locomotive energy and considerable
feeders. In the second place, the ques vivacity.
If, again, we contrast the
tion is not simply a question of bulk, but stolid inactivity of the graminivorous
also a question of quality. A soft, flabby sheep with the liveliness of the dog,
flesh makes as good a show as a firm subsisting on flesh or farinaceous matters,
one; but though to the careless eye, a
or a mixture of the two, we see a differ
child of full, flaccid tissue may appear
ence similar in kind, but still greater in
the equal of one whose fibres are well degree. And after walking through the
toned, a trial of strength will prove the Zoological Gardens, and noting the rest
difference. Obesity in adults is often a lessness with which the carnivorous
sign of feebleness. Men lose weight in animals pace up and down their cages, it
training. Hence the appearance of these
needs but to remember that none of the
low-fed children is far from conclusive. herbivorous animals habitually display
In the third place, besides size we have
this superfluous energy, to see how clear
to consider energy. Between children of is the relation between concentration of
the meat-eating classes and those of the
food and degree of activity.
bread-and-potato-eating classes, there is
That these differences are not directly
a marked contrast in this respect. Both
consequent on differences of constitu
in mental and physical vivacity the
tion, as some may argue; but are directly
peasant-boy is greatly inferior to the consequent on differences in the food
son of a gentleman.
which the creatures are constituted to
If we compare different kinds of subsist on; is proved by the fact, that
animals, or different races of men, or
they are observable between different
the same animals or men when differently divisions of the same species.
The
fed, we find still more distinct proof that varieties of the horse furnish an illustra
the degree of energy essentially depends on tion. Compare the big-bellied, inactive,
the nutritiveness of the food.
spiritless cart-horse with a racer or
In a cow, subsisting on so innutritive hunter, small in the flanks and full of
a food as grass, we see that the immense energy; and then call to mind how
quantity required necessitates an enor much less nutritive is the diet of the one
mous digestive system ; that the limbs,
than that of the other. Or take the
small in comparison with the body, are case of mankind. Australians, Bushmen,
burdened by its weight; that in carrying '
and others of the lowest savages who
about this heavy body and digesting this live on roots and berries, varied by
excessive quantity of food, much force is . larvae of insects and the like meagre
expended; and that, having but little i fare, are comparatively puny in stature,
remaining, the creature is sluggish.
have large abdomens, soft and unde
Compare with the cow a horse — an !
veloped muscles, and are quite unable to
animal of nearly allied structure, but i cope with Europeans, either in a struggle
habituated to a more concentrated diet, j. or in prolonged exertion. Count up the
Here the body, and more especially its I wild races who are well grown, strong
abdominal region, bears a smaller ratio i and active, as the Kaffirs, North-Amerito the limbs; the powers are not taxed j can Indians, and Patagonians, and you
by the support of such massive viscera ' find them large consumers of flesh. The
nor the digestion of so bulky a food; ' ill-fed Hindoo goes down before the
and, as a consequence, there is greater ' Englishman fed on more nutritive food,
�PHYSICAL EDUCATION
to whom he is as inferior in mental as
in physical energy. And generally, we
think, the history of the world shows
that the well-fed races have been the
energetic and dominant races.
Still stronger, however, becomes the
argument, when we find that the same
individual animal is capable of more or
less exertion according as its food is
more or less nutritious. This has been
demonstrated in the case of the horse.
Though flesh may be gained by a grazing
horse, strength is lost; as putting him to
hard work proves. “The consequence
of turning horses out to grass is relaxa
tion of the muscular system.” “Grass
is a very good preparation for a bullock
for Smithfield market, but a very bad
one for a hunter.” It was well known
of old that, after passing the summer in
the fields, hunters required some months
of stable-feeding before becoming able
to follow the hounds; and that they
did not get into good condition till the
beginning of the next spring. And the
modern practice is that insisted on by
Mr. Apperley—“Never to give a hunter
what is called ‘ a summer’s run at grass,’
and, except under particular and very
favourable circumstances, never to turn
him out at all.” That is to say, never
give him poor food: great energy and
endurance are to be obtained only by
the continued use of nutritive food. So
true is this that, as proved by Mr.
Apperley, prolonged high-feeding enables
a middling horse to equal, in his per
formances, a first-rate horse fed in the
ordinary way. To which various evidences
add the familiar fact that, when a horse
is required to do double duty, it is the
practice to give him beans—a food con
taining a larger proportion of nitrogenous,
or flesh-making material, than his habitual
Oats.
Once more, in the case of individual
IOI
men the truth has been illustrated with
equal, or still greater, clearness. We do
not refer to men in training for feats
of strength, whose regimen, however,
thoroughly conforms to the doctrine.
We refer to the experience of railway
contractors and their labourers. It has
been for years a well-established fact
that an English navvy, eating largely of
flesh, is far more efficient than a Conti
nental navvy living on farinaceous food ;
so much more efficient, that English
contractors for Continental railways found
it pay to take their labourers with them.
That difference of diet and not difference
of race caused this superiority, has been
of late distinctly shown. For it has
turned out, that when the Continental
navvies live in the same style as their
English competitors, they presently rise,
more or less nearly, to a par with them
in efficiency. And to this fact, let us here
add the converse one, to which we can
give personal testimony based upon six
months’ experience of vegetarianism, that
abstinence from meat entails diminished
energy of both body and mind.
Do not these various evidences endorse
our argument respecting the feeding of
children ? Do they not imply that, even
supposing the same stature and bulk to
be attained on an innutritive as on a
nutritive diet, the quantity of tissue is
greatly inferior ? Do they not establish
the position that, where energy as well
as growth has to be maintained, it can
only be done by high feeding ? Do they
not confirm the a priori conclusion that,
though a child of whom little is expected
in the way of bodily or mental activity,
may thrive tolerably well on farinaceous
substances, a child who is daily required,
not only to form the due amount of new
tissue, but to supply the waste consequent
on great muscular action, and the further
waste consequent on hard exercise of
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EDUCATION
brain, must live on substances containing
a larger ratio of nutritive matter ? And
is it not an obvious corollary, that denial
of this better food will be at the expense
either of growth, or of bodily activity, or
of mental activity; as constitution and
circumstances determine? We believe
no logical intellect will question it. To
think otherwise is to entertain in a
disguised form the old fallacy of the
perpetual-motion schemers—that it is
possible to get power out of nothing.
Before leaving the question of food,
■a few words must be said on another
requisite—variety. In this respect the
dietary of the young is very faulty. If
not, like our soldiers, condemned to
“ twenty years of boiled beef,” our
children have mostly to bear a monotony
which, though less extreme and less
lasting, is quite as clearly at variance
with the laws of health. At dinner, it is
true, they usually have food that is more
or less mixed, and that is changed day
by day. But week after week, month
after month, year after year, comes the
same breakfast of bread-and-milk, or, it
may be, oatmeal-porridge. And with
like persistence the day is closed, perhaps
with a second edition of the bread-andmilk, perhaps with tea and bread-andbutter.
This practice is opposed to the dictates
of physiology. The satiety produced by
an oft-repeated dish, and the gratification
caused by one long a stranger to the
palate, are not meaningless, as people
carelessly assume; but they are the
incentives to a wholesome diversity of
diet. It is a fact, established by numerous
experiments, that there is scarcely any
one food, however good, which supplies
in due proportions or right forms all the
elements required for carrying on the
vital processes in a normal manner •
whence it follows that frequent change
of food is desirable to balance the
supplies of all the elements. It is a
further fact, known to physiologists, that
the enjoyment given by a much-liked
food is a nervous stimulus, which, by
increasing the action of the heart and
so propelling the blood with increased
vigour, aids in the subsequent digestion.
And these truths are in harmony with
the maxims of modern cattle-feeding,
which dictate a rotation of diet.
Not only, however, is periodic change
of food very desirable; but, for the
same reasons, it is very desirable that a
mixture of food should be taken at each
meal. The better balance of ingredients,
and the greater nervous stimulation, are
advantages which hold here as before.
If facts are asked for, we may name as
one, the comparative ease with which
the stomach disposes of a French dinner,
enormous in quantity but extremely varied
in materials. Few will contend that an
equal weight of one kind of food, how
ever well cooked, could be digested with
as much facility. If any desire further
facts, they may find them in every
modern book on the management of
animals. Animals thrive best when each
meal is made up of several things. The
experiments of Goss and Stark “afford
the most decisive proof of the advantage,
or rather the necessity, of a mixture of
substances, in order to produce the com
pound which is the best adapted for the
action of the stomach.”1
Should any object, as probably many
will, that a rotating dietary for children,
and one which also requires a mixture
of food at each meal, would entail too
much trouble; we reply, that no trouble
is thought too great which conduces to
the mental development of children, and
that for their future welfare, good bodily
1 Cyclopedia of Anatomy and Physiology.
�PHYSICAL EDUCATION
103
There is a current theory, vaguely enter
tained if not put into a definite formula,
that the sensations are to be disregarded.
They do not exist for our guidance, but
to mislead us, seems to be the prevalent
belief reduced to its naked form. It is
a grave error: we are much more bene
ficently constituted. It is not obedience
to the sensations, but disobedience to
them, which is the habitual cause of
bodily evils. It is not the eating when
hungry, but the eating in the absence of
hunger, which is bad. It is not drinking
when thirsty, but continuing to drink
when thirst has ceased, that is the vice.
Harm does not result from breathing
that fresh air which every healthy person
enjoys ; but from breathing foul air, spite
of the-protest of the lungs. Harm does
not result from taking that active exercise
which, as every child shows us, Nature
strongly prompts ; but from a persistent
disregard of Nature’s promptings. Not
that mental activity which is spontaneous
and enjoyable does the mischief; but
that which is preserved in after a hot
or aching head commands desistance.
Not that bodily exertion which is pleasant
or indifferent, does injury; but that which
is continued when exhaustion forbids.
It is true that, in those who have long
led unhealthy lives, the sensations are
not trustworthy guides. People who
have for years been almost constantly
in-doors, who have exercised their brains
very much and their bodies scarcely at
all, who in eating have obeyed their
clocks without consulting their stomachs,
may very likely be misled by their vitiated
feelings. But their abnormal state is
itself the result of transgressing their
With clothing as with food, the usual feelings. Had they from childhood
tendency is towards an improper scanti never disobeyed what we may term the
ness. Here, too, asceticism peeps out. physical conscience, it would not have
been seared, but would have remained
a faithful monitor.
1 Morton’s Cyclopedia of Agriculture.
development is of still higher importance.
Moreover, it seems alike sad and strange
that a trouble which is cheerfully taken
in the fattening of pigs, should be thought
too great in the rearing of children.
One more paragraph, with the view of
warning those who may propose to adopt
the regimen indicated. The change
must not be made suddenly ; for con
tinued low-feeding so enfeebles the
system, as to disable it from at once
dealing with a high diet. Deficient
nutrition is itself a cause of dyspepsia.
This is true even of animals. “When
calves are fed with skimmed milk, or
whey, or other poor food, they are liable
to indigestion.”1 Hence, therefore, where
the energies are low, the transition to a
generous diet must be gradual: each
increment of strength gained, justifying
a fresh addition of nutriment. Further,
it should be borne in mind that the con
centration of nutriment may be carried
too far. A bulk sufficient to fill the
stomach is one requisite of a proper
meal; and this requisite negatives a diet
deficient in those matters which give
adequate mass. Though the size of the
digestive organs is less in the well-fed
civilised races than in the ill-fed savage
ones ; and though their size may even
tually diminish still further; yet, for the
time being, the bulk of the ingesta must
be determined by the existing capacity.
But, paying due regard to these two
qualifications, our conclusions are—that
the food of children should be highly
nutritive; that it should be varied at
each meal and at successive meals ; and
that it should be abundant.
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EDUCATION
Among the sensations serving for our
guidance are those of heat and cold:
and a clothing for children which does
not carefully consult these sensations, is
to be condemned. The common notion
about “ hardening ” is a grievous delusion.
Not a few children are “hardened” out
of the world ; and those who survive,
permanently suffer either in growth or
constitution. “Their delicate appear
ance furnishes ample indication of the
mischief thus produced, and their
frequent attacks of illness might prove
a warning even to unreflecting parents,”
says Dr. Combe. The reasoning on
which this hardening theory rests is
extremely superficial. Wealthy parents,
seeing little peasant boys and girls
playing about in the open-air only half
clothed, and joining with this fact the
general healthiness of labouring people,
draw the unwarrantable conclusion that
the healthiness is the result of the
exposure, and resolve to keep their
own offspring scantily covered! It is
forgotten that these urchins who gambol
upon village-greens are in many respects
favourably circumstanced — that their
lives are spent in almost perpetual play;
that they are all day breathing fresh air;
and that their systems are not disturbed
by over-taxed brains. For aught that
appears to the contrary, their good health
may be maintained, not in consequence
of, but in spite of, their deficient clothing.
This alternative conclusion we believe to
be the true one; and that an inevitable
detriment results from the loss of animal
heat to which they are subject.
For when, the constitution being
sound enough to bear it, the exposure
does produce hardness, it does so at
the expense of growth. This truth is
displayed alike in animals and in man.
Shetland ponies bear greater inclemencies
than the horses of the south, but are
dwarfed. Highland sheep and cattle,
living in a colder climate, are stunted
in comparison with English breeds. In
both the arctic and antarctic regions
the human race falls much below its
ordinary height: the Laplander and
Esquimaux are very short; and the
Terra del Fuegians, who go naked in a
wintry land, are described by Darwin as
so stunted and hideous, that “ one can
hardly make one’s-self believe they are
fellow-creatures. ”
Science explains this dwarfishness pro
duced by great abstraction of heat;
showing that, food and other things
being equal, it unavoidably results. For
as before pointed out, to make up for
that cooling by radiation which the body
is ever undergoing, there must be a
constant oxidation of certain matters
forming part of the food. And in pro
portion as the thermal loss is great, must
the quantity of these matters required
for oxidation be great. But the power
of the digestive organs is limited. Con
sequently, when they have to prepare a
large quantity of this material needful
for maintaining the temperature, they
can prepare but a small quantity of
the material which goes to build up the
frame. Excessive expenditure for fuel
entails diminished means for other
purposes. Wherefore there necessarily
results a body small in size, or inferior
in texture, or both.
Hence the great importance of clothing.
As Liebig says :—“ Our clothing is, in
reference to the temperature of the body,
merely an equivalent for a certain amount
of food.” By diminishing the loss of
heat, it diminishes the amount of fuel
needful for maintaining the heat; and
when the stomach has less to do in
preparing fuel, it can do more in
preparing other materials. This deduc
tion is confirmed by the experience
�PHYSICAL EDUCATION
io5
of those who manage animals. Cold acid given off varies with tolerable
can be borne by animals only at an accuracy as the quantity of heat pro
expense of fat, or muscle, or growth, as duced. And thus we see that in children
the case may be. “If fattening cattle are the system, even when not placed at a
exposed to a low temperature, either disadvantage, is called upon to provide
their progress must be retarded or a nearly double the proportion of material
great additional expenditure of food for generating heat.
See, then, the extreme folly of clothing
incurred.”1 Mr. Apperley insists strongly
that, to bring hunters into good con the young scantily. What father, fulldition, it is necessary that the stable grown though he is, losing heat less
should be kept warm.
And among rapidly as he does, and having no
those who rear racers, it is an established physiological necessity but to supply the
waste of each day—what father, we ask,
doctrine that exposure is to be avoided.
The scientific truth thus illustrated by would think it salutary to go about with
ethnology, and recognised by agricul bare legs, bare arms, and bare neck?
turists and sportsmen, applies with Yet this tax on the system, from which
double force to children. In proportion he would shrink, he inflicts on his little
to their smallness and the rapidity of ones, who are so much less able to bear
their growth is the injury from cold it! or, if he does not inflict it, sees
great. In France, new-born infants often it inflicted without protest. Let him
die in winter from being carried to the remember that every ounce of nutriment
office of the maire for registration. needlessly expended for the maintenance
“M. Quetelet has pointed out, that in of temperature, is so much deducted from
Belgium two infants die in January for the nutriment going to build up the
one that dies in July.” And in Russia frame; and that even when colds, con
the infant mortality is something enor gestions, or other consequent disorders
mous. Even when near maturity, the are escaped, diminished growth or less
undeveloped frame is comparatively perfect structure is inevitable.
“The rule is, therefore, not to dress
unable to bear exposure : as witness the
in an invariable way in all cases, but to
quickness with which young soldiers
succumb in a trying campaign. The put on clothing in kind and quantity
rationale is obvious. We have already sufficient in the individual case to protect
adverted to the fact that, in consequence the body effectually from an abiding
of the varying relation between surface sensation of cold, however slight! This
and bulk, a child loses a relatively larger rule, the importance cf which Dr. Combe
amount of heat than an adult; and here indicates by the italics, is one in which
we must point out that the disadvantage men of science and practitioners agree.
under which the child thus labours is We have met with none competent to
very great. Lehmann says:—“If the form a judgment on the matter, who do
carbonic acid excreted by children or not strongly condemn the exposure of
young animals is calculated for an equal children’s limbs. If there is one point
bodily weight, it results that children above others in which “pestilent custom”
produce nearly twice as much acid as should be ignored, it is this.
Lamentable, indeed, is it to see mothers
adults.” Now the quantity of carbonic
seriously damaging the constitutions of
their children out of compliance with an
1 Morton’s Cyclopedia of Agriculture.
�EDUCATION
irrational fashion. It is bad enough that
they should themselves conform to every
folly which our Gallic neighbours please
to initiate ; but that they should clothe
their children in any mountebank dress
which Le petit Courrier des Dames indi
cates, regardless of its insufficiency and
unfitness, is monstrous.
Discomfort,
more or less great, is inflicted; frequent
disorders are entailed; growth is checked
or stamina undermined; premature death
not uncommonly caused; and all because
it is thought needful to make frocks of a
size and material dictated by French
caprice. Not only is it that for the sake
of conformity, mothers thus punish and
injure their little ones by scantiness of
covering; but it is that from an allied
motive they impose a style of dress which
forbids healthful activity. To please the
eye, colours and fabrics are chosen totally
unfit to bear that rough usage which
unrestrained play involves : and then to
prevent damage the unrestrained play is
interdicted.
“ Get up this moment:
you will soil your clean frock,” is the
mandate issued to some urchin creeping
about on the floor. “ Come back : you
will dirty your stockings,” calls out the
governess to one of her charges, who has
left the footpath to scramble up a bank.
Thus is the evil doubled. That they
may come up to their mamma’s standard
of prettiness, and be admired by her
visitors, children must have habiliments
deficient in quantity and unfit in texture;
and that these easily-damaged habiliments
may be kept clean and uninjured, the
restless activity so natural and needful
for the young, is restrained. The exercise
which becomes doubly requisite when
the clothing is insufficient, is cut short,
lest it should deface the clothing. Would
that the terrible cruelty of this system
could be seen by those who maintain it!
We do not hesitate to say that, through
enfeebled health, defective energies, and
consequent non-success in life, thousands
are annually doomed to unhappiness by
this unscrupulous regard for appearances :
even when they are not, by early death,
literally sacrificed to the Moloch of
maternal vanity. We are reluctant to
counsel strong measures, but really the
evils are so great as to justify, or even to
demand, a peremptory interference on
the part of fathers.
Our conclusions are, then—that, while
the clothing of children should never be
in such excess as to create oppressive
warmth, it should always be sufficient to
prevent any general feeling of cold;
*
that instead of the flimsy cotton, linen,
or mixed fabrics commonly used, it
should be made of some good non
conductor, such as coarse woollen cloth ;
that it should be so strong as to receive
little damage from the hard wear and
tear which childish sports will give it;
and that its colours should be such as
will not soon suffer from use and expo
sure.
To the importance of bodily exercise
most people are in some degree awake.
Perhaps less needs saying on this requisite
of physical education than on most
others : at any rate, in so far as boys are
concerned. Public schools and private
schools alike furnish tolerably adequate
playgrounds; and there is usually a fair
1 It is needful to remark that children whose
legs and arms have been from the beginning
habitually without covering, cease to be conscious
that the exposed surfaces are cold ; just as by use
we have all ceased to be conscious that our faces
are cold, even when out of doors. But though
in such children the sensations no longer protest,
it does not follow that the system escapes injury;
any more than it follows that the Fuegian is
undamaged by exposure, because he bears with
indifference the melting of the falling snow on
his naked body.
�PHYSICAL EDUCATION
share of time for out-door games, and a
recognition of them as needful. In this,
if in no other direction, it seems admitted
that the promptings of boyish instinct
may advantageously be followed; and,
indeed, in the modern practice of breaking
the prolonged morning’s and afternoon’s
lessons by a few minutes’ open-air recrea
tion, we see an increasing tendency to
conform school-regulations to the bodily
sensations of the pupils. Here, then,
little need be said in the way of expostu
lation or suggestion.
But we have been obliged to qualify
this admission by inserting the clause
“in so far as boys are concerned.” Un
fortunately, the fact is quite otherwise
with girls. It chances, somewhat
strangely, that we have daily opportunity
of drawing a comparison. We have
both a boys’ school and a girls’ school
within view; and the contrast between
them is remarkable. In the one case,
nearly the whole of a large garden is
turned into an open, gravelled space,
affording ample scope for games, and
supplied with poles and horizontal bars
for gymnastic exercises. Every day
before breakfast, again towards eleven
o’clock, again at mid-day, again in the
afternoon, and once more after school is
over, the neighbourhood is awakened by
a chorus of shouts and laughter as the
boys rush out to play; and for as long
as they remain, both eyes and ears give
proof that they are absorbed in that
enjoyable activity which makes the pulse
bound and ensures the healthful activity
of every organ. How unlike is the
picture offered by the “ Establishment
for Young Ladies”! Until the fact was
pointed out, we actually did not know
that we had a girls’ school as close to us
as the school for boys. The garden,
equally large with the other, affords no
sign whatever of any provision for juvenile
107
recreation; but is entirely laid out with
prim grass-plots, gravel-walks, shrubs, and
flowers, after the usual suburban style.
During five months we ha.ve not once
had our attention drawn to the premises
by a shout or a laugh. Occasionally
girls may be observed sauntering along
the paths with their lesson-books in their
hands, or else walking arm-in-arm. Once,
indeed, we saw one chase another round
the garden; but, with this exception,
nothing like vigorous exertion has been
visible.
Why this astonishing difference? Is
it that the constitution of a girl differs
so entirely from that of a boy as not to
need these active exercises ? Is it that
a girl has none of the promptings to
vociferous play by which boys are
impelled ? Or is it that, while in boys
these promptings are to be regarded as
stimuli to a bodily activity without which
there cannot be adequate development,
to their sisters, Nature has given them
for no purpose whatever—unless it be
for the vexation of school-mistresses ?
Perhaps, however, we mistake the aim
of those who train the gentler sex. We
have a vague suspicion that to produce
a robust physique is thought undesirable ;
that rude health and abundant vigour
are considered somewhat plebeian; that
a certain delicacy, a strength not com
petent to more than a mile or two’s walk,
an appetite fastidious and easily satisfied,
joined with that timidity which commonly
accompanies feebleness, are held more
lady-like. We do not expect that any
would distinctly avow this; but we fancy
the governess-mind is haunted by an
ideal young lady bearing not a little
resemblance to this type. If so, it must
be admitted that the established system
is admirably calculated to realise this
ideal. But to suppose that such is the
ideal of the opposite sex is a profound
�108
EDUCATION
mistake. That men are not commonly
drawn towards masculine women, is
doubtless true.
That such relative
weakness as asks the protection of
superior strength, is an element of
attraction, we quite admit. But the
difference thus responded to by the
feelings of men, is the natural, preestablished difference, which will assert
itself without artificial appliances. And
when, by artificial appliances, the degree
of this difference is increased, it becomes
an element of repulsion rather than of
attraction.
“Then girls should be allowed to run
wild—to become as rude as boys, and
grow up into romps and hoydens !”
exclaims some defender of the pro
prieties. This, we presume, is the ever
present dread of school-mistresses. It
appears, on inquiry, that at “ Establish
ments for Young Ladies ” noisy play like
that daily indulged in by boys, is a
punishable offence; and we infer that it
is forbidden, lest unlady-like habits should
be formed. The fear is quite groundless,
however. For if the sportive activity
allowed to boys does not prevent them
from growing up into gentlemen; why
should a like sportive activity prevent
girls from growing up into ladies ?
Rough as may have been their play
ground frolics, youths who have left
school do not indulge in leap-frog in the
street, or marbles in the drawing-room.
Abandoning their jackets, they abandon
at the same time boyish games; and
display an anxiety—often a ludicrous
anxiety—to avoid whatever is not manly.
If now, on arriving at the due age, this
feeling of masculine dignity puts so
efficient a restraint on the sports of boy
hood, will not the feeling of feminine
modesty, gradually strengthening as
maturity is approached, put an efficient
restraint on the like snorts of girlhood ?
Have not women even a greater regard
for appearances than men ? and will there
not consequently arise in them even a
stronger check to whatever is rough or
boisterous ? How absurd is the supposi
tion that the womanly instincts would
not assert themselves but for the rigorous
discipline of school-mistresses!
In this, as in other cases, to remedy
the evils of one artificiality, another
artificiality has been introduced. The
natural, spontaneous exercise having
been forbidden, and the bad conse
quences of no exercise having become
conspicuous, there has been adopted a
system of factitious exercise—gymnastics.
That this is better than nothing we
admit; but that it is an adequate sub
stitute for play we deny. The defects
are both positive and negative. In the
first place, these formal, muscular
motions, necessarily less varied than
those accompanying juvenile sports, do
not secure so equable a distribution of
action to all parts of the body; whence
it results that the exertion, falling on
special parts, produces fatigue sooner
than it would else have done: to which,
in passing, let us add, that if constantly
repeated, this exertion of special parts
leads to a disproportionate development.
Again, the quantity of exercise thus taken
will be deficient, not only in consequence
of uneven distribution; but there will be
a further deficiency in consequence of
lack of interest. Even when not made
repulsive, as they sometimes are, by
assuming the shape of appointed lessons,
these monotonous movements are sure
to become wearisome from the absence
of amusement. Competition, it is true,
serves as a stimulus; but it is not a
lasting stimulus, like that enjoyment
which accompanies varied play. The
weightiest objection, however, still
remains.
Besides being inferior in
�PHYSICAL EDUCATION
respect of the quantity of muscular
exertion which they secure, gymnastics
are still more inferior in respect of the
quality., This comparative want of
enjoyment which we have named as a
cause of early desistance from artificial
exercises, is also a cause of inferiority
in the effects they produce on the system.
The common assumption that, so long
as the amount of bodily action is the
same, it matters not whether it be
pleasurable or otherwise, is a grave
mistake. An agreeable mental excite
ment has a highly invigorating influence.
See the effect produced upon an invalid
by good news, or by the visit of an old
friend. Mark how careful medical men
are to recommend lively society to
debilitated patients. Remember how
beneficial to health is the gratification
produced by change of scene. The
truth is that happiness is the most
powerful of tonics. By accelerating the
circulation of the blood, it facilitates the
performance of every function; and so
tends alike to increase health when it
exists, and to restore it when it has been
lost. Hence the intrinsic superiority of
play to gymnastics. The extreme interest
felt by children in their games, and the
riotous glee with which they carry on
their rougher frolics, are of as much
importance as the accompanying exertion.
And as not supplying these mental
stimuli, gymnastics must be radically
defective.
Granting then, as we do, that formal
exercises of the limbs are better than
nothing—granting, further, that they may
be used with advantage as supplementary
aids; we yet contend that they can never
serve in place of the exercises prompted
by Nature. For girls, as well as boys,
the sportive activities to which the
instincts impel, are essential to bodily
welfare. Whoever forbids them, forbids
109
the divinely-appointed means to physical
development.
A topic still remains—one perhaps
more urgently demanding consideration
than any of the foregoing. It is asserted
by not a few, that among the educated
classes the younger adults and those
who are verging on maturity, are neither
so well grown nor so strong as their
seniors. On first hearing this assertion,
we were inclined to class it as one of
the many manifestations of the old
tendency to exalt the past at the expense
of the present. Calling to mind the
facts that, as measured by ancient
armour, modern men are proved to be
larger than ancient men; and that the
tables of mortality show no diminution,
but rather an increase, in the duration
of life; we paid little attention to what
seemed a groundless belief. Detailed
observation, however, has shaken our
opinion. Omitting from the comparison
the labouring classes, we have noticed a
majority of cases in which the children
do not reach the stature of their parents;
and, in massiveness, making due allow
ance for difference of age, there seems a
like inferiority. Medical men say that
now-a-days people cannot bear nearly so
much depletion as in times gone by.
Premature baldness is far more common
than it used to be. And an early decay
of teeth occurs in the rising generation
with startling frequency.
In general
vigour the contrast appears equally strik
ing. Men of past generations, living
riotously as they did, could bear more
than men of the present generation, who
live soberly, can bear. Though they
drank hard, kept irregular hours, were
regardless of fresh air, and thought little
of cleanliness, our recent ancestors were
capable of prolonged application without
injury, even to a ripe old age: witness
�I IO
EDUCATION
the annals of the bench and the bar.
Yet we who think much about our bodily
welfare; who eat with moderation, and
do not drink to excess; who attend to
ventilation, and use frequent ablutions
who make annual excursions, and have
the benefit of greater medical knowledge;
—we are continually breaking down
under our work. Paying considerable
attention to the laws of health, we seem
to be weaker than our grandfathers, who,
in many respects, defied the laws of
health. And, judging from the appear
ance and frequent ailments of the rising
generation, they are likely to be even
less robust than ourselves.
What is the meaning of this ? Is it
that past over-feeding, alike of adults and
children, was less injurious than the
under-feeding to which we have adverted
as now so general? Is it that the
deficient clothing which this delusive
hardening-theory has encouraged, is to
blame ? Is it that the greater or less
discouragement of juvenile sports, in
deference to a false refinement, is the
cause ? From our reasonings it may be
inferred that each of these has probably
had a share in producing the evil.1 But
there has been yet another detrimental
influence at work, perhaps more potent
1 We are not certain that the propagation of
subdued forms of constitutional disease through
the agency of vaccination is not a part-cause.
Sundry facts in pathology suggest the inference,
that when the system of a vaccinated child is
excreting the vaccine virus by means of pustules,
it will tend also to excrete through such pustules
other morbific matters; especially if these
morbific matters are of a kind ordinarily got rid
of by the skin, as are some of the worst of
them. Hence it is very possible—probable even
-—that a child with a constitutional taint, too
slight to show itself in visible disease, may,
through the medium of vitiated vaccine lymph
taken from it, convey a like constitutional taint
to other children, and these to others.
than any of the others : we mean—excess
of mental application.
On old and young, the pressure of
modern life puts a still-increasing strain.
In all businesses and professions, intenser
competition taxes the energies and
abilities of every adult; and to fit the
young to hold their places under this
intenser competition, they are subject to
severer discipline than heretofore. The
damage is thus doubled. Fathers, who
find themselves run hard by their multi
plying competitors, and, while labouring
under this disadvantage, have to maintain
a more expensive style of living, are all
the year round obliged to work early and
late, taking little exercise and getting but
short holidays. The constitutions shaken
by this continued over-application, they
bequeath to their children. And then
these comparatively feeble children, pre
disposed to break down even under
ordinary strains on their energies, are
required to go through a curriculum
much more extended than that prescribed
for the unenfeebled children of past
generations.
The disastrous consequences that
might be anticipated, are everywhere
visible. Go where you will, and before
long there come under your notice cases
of children or youths, of either sex,
more or less injured by undue study.
Here, to recover from a state of debility
thus produced, a year’s rustication has
been found necessary. There you find
a chronic congestion of the brain, that
has already lasted many months, and
threatens to last much longer. Now you
hear of a fever that resulted from the
over-excitement in some way brought on
at school. And again, the instance is
that of a youth who has already had
once to desist from his studies, and who,
since his return to them, is frequently
taken out of his class in a fainting fit.
�PHYSICAL EDUCATION
11 î
We state facts—facts not sought for, but | is unobtrusive and slowly accumulating
which have been thrust on our observa —cases where there is frequent derange
ment of the functions, attributed to this
tion during the last two years ; and that,
too, within a very limited range. Nor or that special cause, or to constitutional
have we by any means exhausted the delicacy; cases where there is retarda
tion and premature arrest of bodily
list. Quite recently we had the oppor
tunity of marking how the evil becomes growth ; cases where a latent tendency
hereditary : the case being that of a lady to consumption is brought out and
of robust parentage, whose system was established; cases where a predisposition
so injured by the régime of a Scotch is given to that now common cerebral
boarding-school, where she was under disorder brought on by the labour oi
adult life. How commonly health is
fed and over-worked, that she invariably
suffers from vertigo on rising in the thus undermined, will be clear to all
morning ; and whose children, inheriting who, after noting the frequent ailments
this enfeebled brain, are several of them of hard-worked professional and mercan
unable to bear even a moderate amount tile men, will reflect on the much worse
of study without headache or giddiness. effects which undue application must
produce on the undeveloped systems of
At the present time we have daily under
children. The young can bear neither
our eyes a young lady whose system
so much hardship, nor so much physical
has been damaged for life by the college
exertion, nor so much mental exertion,
course through which she has passed.
as the full grown. Judge then, if the
Taxed as she was to such an extent that
she had no energy left for exercise, she is, full grown manifestly suffer from the
excessive mental exertion required of
now that she has finished her education,
a constant complainant. Appetite small them, how great must be the damage
which a mental exertion, often equally
and very capricious, mostly refusing meat;
extremities perpetually cold, even when excessive, inflicts on the young 1
Indeed, when we examine the merciless
the weather is warm ; a feebleness which
forbids anything but the slowest walking, school drill frequently enforced, the
and that only for a short time ; palpita wonder is, not that it does extreme
injury, but that it can be borne at all.
tion on going upstairs ; greatly impaired
vision—these, joined with checked Take the instance given by Sir John
Forbes, from personal knowledge; and
growth and lax tissue, are among the
which he asserts, after much inquiry, to
results entailed. And to her case we
may add that of her friend and fellow be an average sample of the middle
class girls’-school system throughout
student ; who is similarly weak ; who is
England. Omitting detailed divisions
liable to faint even under the excitement
of time, we quote the summary of the
of a quiet party of friends ; and who has
at length been obliged by her medical twenty-four hours.
hours
attendant to desist from study entirely.
........................................
•••
9
If injuries so conspicuous are thus In bed
(the younger io hours)
frequent, how very general must be the
In school, at their studies and tasks
...
9
smaller and inconspicuous injuries ! To In school, or in the house, the elder at
one case where positive illness is trace
optional studies or work, the younger
able to over-application, there are probably
at play ...
...
...
•••
•••
3$
(the younger 2^ hours)
at least half-a-dozen cases where the evil
�IT2
At meals........................................
Exercise in the open air, in the shape of
a formal walk, often with lesson-books
in hand, and even this only when the
weather is fine at the appointed time ...
EDUCATION
hours
i
24
And what are the results of this
“astounding regimen,” as Sir John
Forbes terms it? Of course, feebleness,
pallor, want of spirits, general ill-health.
But he describes something more. This
utter disregard of physical welfare, out
of extreme anxiety to cultivate the mind
this prolonged exercise of brain and
deficient exercise of limbs,—he found
to be habitually followed, not only by
disordered functions but by malformation.
He says :—“ We lately visited, in a large
town, a boarding-school containing forty
girls; and we learnt, on close and
accurate inquiry, that there was not one
of the girls who had been at the school
two years (and the majority had been
as long) that was not more or less
crooked 1 ”1
It may be that since 1833, when this
was written, some improvement has taken
place. We hope it has. But that the
system is still common—nay, that it is
in some cases carried to a greater extreme
than ever; we can personally testify. We
recently went over a training-college for
young men: one of those instituted of
late years for the purpose of supplying
schools with well-disciplined teachers.
Here, under official supervision, where
something better than the judgment of
private school-mistresses might have
been looked for, we found the daily
routine to be as follows :—
At 6 o’clock the students are called,
,, 7 to 8 studies,
’ Cyclopedia of Practical Medicine, vol. i.,
pp. 697, 698.
At 8 to 9 scripture-reading, prayers, and break
fast,
,, 9 to 12 studies,
” 12 to
leisure, nominally devoted to walk
ing or other exercise, but often spent ia
study,
” Ii to 2 dinner, the meal commonly occupying
twenty-minutes,
j, 2 to 5 studies,
,, 5 to 6 tea and relaxation,
,, 6 to 8J studies,
,, 8J to 9J private studies in preparing lessons
for the next day,
J, 10 to bed.
Thus, out of the twenty-four hours,
eight are devoted to sleep; four and a
quarter are occupied in dressing, prayers,
meals, and the brief periods of rest
accompanying them; ten and a half are
given to study; and one and a quarter
to exercise, which is optional and often
avoided. Not only, however, are the
ten-and-a-half hours of recognised study
frequently increased to eleven-and-a-half
by devoting to books the time set apart
for exercise; but some of the students
get up at four o’clock in the morning to
prepare their lessons; and are actually
encouraged by their teachers to do this !
The course to be passed through in a
given time is so extensive; and the
teachers, whose credit is at stake in
getting their pupils well through the
examinations, are so urgent; that pupils
are not uncommonly induced to spend
twelve and thirteen hours a day in mental
labour 1
It needs no prophet to see that the
bodily injury inflicted must be great.
As we were told by one of the inmates,
those who arrive with fresh complexions
quickly become blanched. Illness is
frequent: there are always some on the
sick-list. Failure of appetite and indiges
tion are very common. Diarrhoea is a
prevalent disorder: not uncommonly a
third of the whole number of students
suffering under it at the same time.
�PHYSICAL EDUCATION
Headache is generally complained of;
and by some is borne almost daily for
months. While a certain percentage
break down entirely and go away.
That this should be the regimen of
•what is in some sort a model institution,
established and superintended by the
embodied enlightenment of the age, is a
startling fact. That the severe examina
tions, joined with the short period
assigned for preparation, should compel
recourse to a system which inevitably
undermines the health of all who pass
through it, is proof, if not of cruelty,
then of woful ignorance.
The case is no doubt in a great degree
exceptional—perhaps to be paralleled
only in other institutions of the same
class. But that cases so extreme should
exist at all, goes far to show that the
minds of the rising generation are greatly
over-taxed. Expressing as they do the
ideas of the educated community, the
requirements of these training colleges,
even in the absence of other evidence,
would imply a prevailing tendency to an
unduly urgent system of culture.
It seems strange that there should be
so little consciousness of the dangers of
over-education during youth, when there
is so general a consciousness of the
dangers of over-education during child
hood. Most parents are partially aware
of the evil consequences that follow
infant-precocity. In every society may
t>6 heard reprobation of those who too
early stimulate the minds of their little
ones. And the dread of this early
Stimulation is great in proportion as there
h adequate knowledge of the effects;
witness the implied opinion of one of
our most distinguished professors of
physiology, who told us that he did not
intend his little boy to learn any lessons
until he was eight years old. But while
to all it is a familiar truth that a forced
«3
development of intelligence in childhood}
entails either physical feebleness, or ulti
mate stupidity, or early death; it appears
not to be perceived that throughout
youth the same truth holds. Yet it
unquestionably does so. There is a
given order in which, and a given rate
at which, the faculties unfold. If the
course of education conforms itself to
that order and rate, well. If not—if
the higher faculties are early taxed by
presenting an order of knowledge more
complex and abstract than can be readily
assimilated; or if, by excess of culture,
the intellect in general is developed to a
degree beyond that which is natural to
its age; the abnormal advantage gained
will inevitably be accompanied by some
equivalent, or more than equivalent, evil.
For Nature is a strict accountant;
and if you demand of her in one direc
tion more than she is prepared to lay
out, she balances the account by making
a deduction elsewhere. If you will let
her follow her own course, taking care
to supply, in right quantities and kinds,
the raw materials of bodily and mental
growth required at each age, she will
eventually produce an individual more
or less evenly developed. If, however,
you insist on premature or undue growth
of any one part, she will, with more or
less protest, concede the point; but that
she may do your extra work, she must leave
some of her more important work undone.
Let it never be forgotten that the amount
of vital energy which the body at any
moment possesses, is limited; and that,
being limited, it is impossible to get
from it more than a fixed quantity of
results. In a child or youth the demands
upon this vital energy are various and
urgent. As before pointed out, the waste
consequent on the day’s bodily exercise
has to be met; the wear of brain entailed
by the day’s study has to be made good;
�114
EDUCATION
a certain additional growth of body has in mental labour exceeds that which
to be provided for; and also a certain Nature has provided for; the expendi
additional growth of brain: to which ture for other purposes falls below what
must be added the amount of energy it should have been; and evils of one
absorbed in digesting the large quantity kind or other are inevitably entailed.
of food required for meeting these many Let us briefly consider these evils.
Supposing the over-activity of brain to
demands.
Now, that to divert an
excess of energy into any one of these exceed the normal activity only in a
channels is to abstract it from the others, moderate degree, there will be nothing
is both manifest a priori, and proved a more than some slight reaction on the
posteriori, by the experience of every development of the body: the stature
one. Every one knows, for instance, falling a little below that which it would
that the digestion of a heavy meal else have reached; or the bulk being
makes such a demand on the system less than it would have been; or the
as to produce lassitude of mind and body, quality of tissue not being so good. One
frequently ending in sleep. Every one or more of these effects must necessarily
knows, too, that excess of bodily exercise occur. The extra quantity of blood
diminishes the power of thought—that supplied to the brain during mental
the temporary prostration following any exertion, and during the subsequent
sudden exertion, or the fatigue produced period in which the waste of cerebral
by a thirty miles’ walk, is accompanied substance is being made good, is blood
by a disinclination to mental effort; that, that would else have been circulating
after a month’s pedestrian tour, the through the limbs and viscera ; and the
mental inertia is such that some days are growth or repair for which that blood
required to overcome it; and that in would have supplied materials, is lost.
peasants who spend their lives in This physical reaction being certain, the
muscular labour the activity of mind is question is, whether the gain resulting
very small. Again, it is a familiar truth from the extra culture is equivalent to
that during those fits of rapid growth the loss ? — whether defect of bodily
which sometimes occur in childhood, the growth, or the want of that structural
great abstraction of energy is shown in an perfection which gives vigour and endu
attendant prostration, bodily and mental. rance, is compensated by the additional
Once more, the facts that violent muscular knowledge acquired ?
When the excess of mental exertion is
exertion after eating, will stop digestion;
greater, there follow results far more
and that children who are early put to
hard labour become stunted; similarly serious; telling not only against bodily
exhibit the antagonism—similarly imply perfection, but against the perfection of
that excess of activity in one direction the brain itself. It is a physiological
involves deficiency of it in other direc law, first pointed out by M Isidor St.
tions. Now, the law which is thus Hilaire, and to which attention has been
manifest in extreme cases, holds in all drawn by Mr. Lewes in his essay on
cases. These injurious abstractions of “ Dwarfs and Giants,” that there is an
energy as certainly take place when the antagonism between growth and develop
undue demands are slight and constant, ment. By growth, as used in this anti
as when they are great and sudden. thetical sense, is to be understood
Hence, if during youth the expenditure increase of size; by development, increase
�PHYSICAL EDUCATION
of structure. And the law is, that great
activity in either of these processes
involves retardation or arrest of the other.
A familiar example is furnished by the
cases of the caterpillar and the chrysalis.
In the caterpillar there is extremely rapid
augmentation of bulk ; but the structure
is scarcely at all more complex when the
caterpillar is full-grown than when it is
small. In the chrysalis the bulk does
not increase; on the contrary, weight is
lost during this stage of the creature’s
life ; but the elaboration of a more com
plex structure goes on with great activity.
The antagonism, here so clear, is less
traceable in higher creatures, because
the two processes are carried on together.
But we see it pretty well illustrated among
ourselves when we contrast the sexes.
A girl developes in body and mind
rapidly, and ceases to grow compara
tively early. A boy’s bodily and mental
development is slower, and his growth
greater. At the age when the one is
mature, finished, and having all faculties
in full play, the other, whose vital energies
have been more directed towards increase
of size, is relatively incomplete in struc
ture ; and shows it in a comparative
awkwardness, bodily and mental. Now
this law is true of each separate part of
the organism, as well as of the whole.
The abnormally rapid advance of any
organ in respect of structure, involves
premature arrest of its growth; and this
happens with the organ of the mind as
certainly as with any other organ. The
brain, which during early years is rela
tively large in mass but imperfect in
structure, will, if required to perform its
functions with undue activity, undergo
a structural advance greater than is
appropriate to its age; but the ultimate
effect will be a falling short of the size
and power that would else have been
attained. And this is a part-cause—
115
probably the chief cause—why precocious
children, and youths who up to a certain
time were carrying all before them, so
often stop short and disappoint the high
hopes of their parents.
But these results of over-education,
disastrous as they are, are perhaps less
disastrous than the effects produced on
the health—the undermined constitu
tion, the enfeebled energies, the morbid
feelings. Recent discoveries in physiology
have shown how immense is the influence
of the brain over the functions of the
body. Digestion, circulation, and through
these all the organic processes, are
profoundly affected by cerebral excite
ment. Whoever has seen repeated, as
we have, the experiment first performed
by Weber, showing the consequence of
irritating the vagus nerve, which connects
the brain with the viscera—whoever has
seen the action of the heart suddenly
arrested by irritating this nerve; slowly
recommencing when the irritation is
suspended; and again arrested the
moment it is renewed; will have a vivid
conception of the depressing influence
which an overwrought brain exercises
on the body. The effects thus physio
logically explained, are indeed exemplified
in ordinary experience. There is no one
but has felt the palpitation accompanying
hope, fear, anger, joy—no one but has
observed how laboured becomes the
action of the heart when these feelings
are violent. And though there are many
who have never suffered that extreme
emotional excitement which is followed
by arrest of the heart’s action and fainting;
yet every one knows these to be cause
and effect. It is a familiar fact, too,
that disturbance of the stomach results
from mental excitement exceeding a
certain intensity. Loss of appetite is a
common consequence alike of very
pleasurable and very painful states of
�EDUCATION
mind. When the event producing a
pleasurable or painful state of mind
occurs shortly after a meal, it not unfrequently happens either that the stomach
rejects what has been eaten, or digests
it with great difficulty and under protest.
And as every one who taxes his brain
much can testify, even purely intellectual
action will, when excessive, produce
analogous effects. Now the relation
between brain and body which is so
manifest in these extreme cases, holds
equally in ordinary, less-marked cases.
Just as these violent but temporary
cerebral excitements produce violent but
temporary disturbances of the viscera;
so do the less violent but chronic cerebral
excitements produce less violent but
chronic visceral disturbances. This is
not simply an inference:—it is a truth
to which every medical man can bear
witness; .and it is one to which a long
and sad experience enables us to give
personal testimony. Various degrees and
forms of bodily derangement, often taking
years of enforced idleness to set partially
right, result from this prolonged over
exertion of mind. Sometimes the heart
is chiefly affected : habitual palpitations;
a pulse much enfeebled; and very
generally a diminution in the number of
beats from seventy-two to sixty, or
even fewer. Sometimes the conspicuous
disorder is of the stomach: a dyspepsia
which makes life a burden, and is
amenable to no remedy but time. In
many cases both heart and stomach are
implicated. Mostly the sleep is short
and broken. And very generally there
is more or less mental depression.
Consider, then, how great must be the
damage inflicted by undue mental excite
ment on children and youths. More or
less of this constitutional disturbance will
inevitably follow an exertion of brain
beyond the normal amount; and when not
so excessive as to produce absolute illness,
is sure to entail a slowly accumulating
degeneracy of physique. With a small
and fastidious appetite, an imperfect
digestion, and an enfeebled circulation,
how can the developing body flourish?
The due performance of every vital
process depends on an adequate supply
of good blood. Without enough good
blood, no gland can secrete properly, no
viscus can fully discharge its office.
Without enough good blood, no nerve,
muscle, membrane, or other tissue can
be efficiently repaired. Without enough
good blood, growth will be neither sound
nor ■ sufficient. Judge, then, how bad
must be the consequences when to a
growing body the weakened stomach
supplies blood that is deficient in quantity
and poor in quality; while the debilitated
heart propels this poor and scanty blood
with unnatural slowness.
And if, as all who investigate the
matter must admit, physical degeneracy
is a consequence of excessive study, how
grave is the condemnation to be passed
on this cramming-system above exempli
fied. It is a terrible mistake, from
whatever point of view regarded. It is
a mistake in so far as the mere acquire
ment of knowledge is concerned. For
the mind, like the body, cannot assimilate
beyond a certain rate; and if you ply it
with facts faster than it can assimilate
them, they are soon rejected again:
instead of being built into the intellectual
fabric, they fall out of recollection after
the passing of the examination for which
they were got up. It is a mistake, too,
because it tends to make study distasteful.
Either through the painful associations
produced by ceaseless mental toil, or
through the abnormal state of brain it
leaves behind, it often generates an
aversion to books; and, instead of
that subsequent self-culture induced by
�PHYSICAL EDUCATION
rational education, there comes continued
retrogression. It is a mistake, also,
inasmuch as it assumes that the acquisi
tion of knowledge is everything; and
forgets that a much more important
thing is the organisation of knowledge,
for which time and spontaneous thinking
are requisite. As Humboldt remarks
respecting the progress of intelligence in
general, that “ the interpretation of
Nature is obscured when the description
languishes under too great an accumula
tion of insulated facts ”; so, it may be
remarked respecting the progress of indi
vidual intelligence, that the mind is over
burdened and hampered by an excess of
ill-digested information. It is not the
knowledge stored up as intellectual fat
which is of value; but that which is
turned into intellectual muscle. The
mistake goes still deeper however. Even
were the system good as producing
intellectual efficiency, which it is not; it
would still be bad, because, as we have
shown, it is fatal to that vigour of physique
needful to make intellectual training
available in the struggle of life. Those
who, in eagerness to cultivate their pupils’
minds, are reckless of their bodies, do
not remember that success in the world
depends more on energy than on infor
mation ; and that a policy which in
cramming with information undermines
energy, is self-defeating. The strong will
and untiring activity due to abundant
animal vigour, go far to compensate even
great defects of education; and when
joined with that quite adequate education
which may be obtained without sacrificing
health, they ensure an easy victory over
competitors enfeebled by excessive study :
prodigies of learning though they may be.
A comparatively small and ill-made
engine, worked at high pressure, will do
more than a large and well-finished one
worked at low pressure. What folly is
117
it, then, while finishing the engine, so to
damage the boiler that it will not generate
steam ! Once more, the system is a
mistake, as involving a false estimate of
welfare in life. Even supposing it were
a means to worldly success, instead of a
means to worldly failure, yet, in the
entailed ill-health, it would inflict a more
than equivalent curse. What boots it to
have attained wealth, if the wealth is
accompanied by ceaseless ailments ?
What is the worth of distinction, if it has
brought hypochondria with it ? Surely
no one needs telling that a good digestion,
a bounding pulse, and high spirits, are
elements of happiness which no external
advantages can out-balance. Chronic
bodily disorder casts a gloom over the
brightest prospects ; while the vivacity of
strong health gilds even misfortune. We
contend, then, that this over-education is
vicious in every way—vicious, as giving
knowledge that will soon be forgotten ;
vicious, as producing a disgust for
knowledge; vicious, as neglecting that
organisation of knowledge which is more
important than its acquisition; vicious,
as weakening or destroying that energy
without which a trained intellect is
useless; vicious, as entailing that illhealth for which even success would not
compensate, and which makes failure
doubly bitter.
On women the effects of this forcing
system are, if possible, even more injurious
than on men. Being in great measure
debarred from those vigorous and en
joyable exercises of body by which boys
mitigate the evils of excessive study,
girls feel these evils in their full intensity.
Hence, the much smaller proportion of
them who grow up well-made and healthy.
In the pale, angular, flat-chested young
ladies, so abundant in London drawing
rooms, we see the effect of merciless
application, unrelieved by youthful sports ;
�EDUCATION
and this physical degeneracy hinders
their welfare far more than their many
accomplishments aid it. Mammas anxious
to make their daughters attractive, could
scarcely choose a course more fatal than
this, which sacrifices the body to the
mind. Either they disregard the tastes
of the opposite sex, or else their concep
tion of those tastes is erroneous. Men
care little for erudition in women; but
very much for physical beauty, good
nature, and sound sense. How many
conquests does the blue-stocking * ake
m
through her extensive knowledge of
history ? What man ever fell in love
with a woman because she understood
Italian ? Where is the Edwin who was
brought to Angelina’s feet by her German?
But rosy cheeks and laughing eyes are
great attractions. A finely-rounded figure
draws admiring glances. The liveliness
and good humour that overflowing health
produces, go a great way towards estab
lishing attachments. Every one knows
cases where bodily perfections, in the
absence of all other recommendations,
have incited a passion that carried all
before it; but scarcely any one can point
to a case where intellectual acquirements,
apart from moral or physical attributes,
have aroused such a feeling. The truth
is, that out of the many elements uniting
in various proportions to produce in a
man’s breast the complex emotion we
call love, the strongest are those produced
by physical attractions; the next in order
of strength are those produced by moral
attractions; the weakest are those pro
duced by intellectual attractions; and
even these are dependent less on acquired
knowledge than on natural faculty —
quickness, wit, insight. If any think the
assertion a derogatory one, and inveigh
against the masculine character for being
thus swayed; we reply that they little
know what they say when they thus call
in question the Divine ordinations. Even
were there no obvious meaning in the
arrangement, we might be sure that some
important end was subserved. But the
meaning is quite obvious to those who
examine. When we remember that one
of Nature’s ends, or rather her supreme
end, is the welfare of posterity; further
that, in so far as posterity are concerned,
a cultivated intelligence based on a bad
physique is of little worth, since its descen
dants will die out in a generation or two ;
and conversely that a good physique,
however poor the accompanying mental
endowments, is worth preserving, because,
throughout future generations, the mental
endowments may be indefinitely de
veloped ; we perceive how important is
the balance of instincts above described.
But, advantage apart, the instincts being
thus balanced, it is folly to persist in a
system which undermines a girl’s constitu
tion that it may overload her memory.
Educate as highly as possible—the higher
the better—provided no bodily injury is
entailed (and we may remark, in passing,
that a sufficiently high standard might be
reached were the parrot-faculty cultivated
less, and the human faculty more, and
were the discipline extended over that
now wasted period between leaving school
and being married). But to educate in
such manner, or to such extent, as to
produce physical degeneracy, is to defeat
the chief end for which the toil and cost
and anxiety are submitted to. By sub
jecting their daughters to this highpressure system, parents frequently ruin
their prospects in life. Besides inflicting
on them enfeebled health, with all its
pains and disabilities and gloom ; they
not unfrequently doom them to celibacy.
The physical education of children is
thus, in various ways, seriously faulty.
It errs in deficient feeding ; in deficient
�PHYSICAL EDUCATION
clothing ; in deficient exercise (among
girls at least); and in excessive mental
application. Considering the régime as
a whole, its tendency is too exacting : it
asks too much and gives too little. In
the extent to which it taxes the vital
energies, it makes the juvenile life far
more like the adult life than it should be.
It overlooks the truth that, as in the
foetus the entire vitality is expended in
growth—as in the infant, the expenditure
of vitality in growth is so great as to leave
extremely little for either physical or
mental action ; so throughout childhood
and youth, growth is the dominant
requirement to which all others must
be subordinated : a requirement which
dictates the giving of much and the taking
away of little — a requirement which,
therefore, restricts the exertion of body
and mind in proportion to the rapidity
of growth—a requirement which permits
the mental and physical activities to
increase only as fast as the rate of growth
diminishes.
The rationale of this high-pressure
education is that it results from our
passing phase of civilisation. In primitive
times, when aggression and defence were
the leading social activities, bodily vigour
with its accompanying courage were the
desiderata ; and then education was
almost wholly physical: mental cultivation
was little cared for, and indeed, as in
feudal ages, was often treated with con
tempt. But now that our state is relatively
peaceful—now that muscular power is of
use for little else than manual labour,
while social success of nearly every kind
119
depends very much on mental power;
our education has become almost exclu
sively mental. Instead of respecting the
body and ignoring the mind, we now
respect the mind and ignore the body.
Both these attitudes are wrong. We do
not yet realise the truth that as, in this
life of ours, the physical underlies the
mental, the mental must not be developed
at the expense of the physical. The
ancient and modem conceptions must
be combined.
Perhaps nothing will so much hasten
the time when body and mind will both
be adequately cared for, as a diffusion of
the belief that the preservation of health
is a duty. Few seem conscious that
there is such a thing as physical morality.
Men’s habitual words and acts imply the
idea that they are at liberty to treat their
bodies as they please. Disorders entailed
by disobedience to Nature’s dictates, they
regard simply as grievances : not as the
effects of a conduct more or less flagitious.
Though the evil consequences inflicted
on their dependents, and on future
generations, are often as great as those
caused by crime; yet they do not think
themselves in any degree criminal. It
is true that, in the case of drunkenness,
the viciousness of a bodily transgression
is recognised : but none appear to infer
that, if this bodily transgression is vicious,
so too is every bodily transgression.
The fact is, that all breaches of the laws
of health are physical sins. When this is
generally seen, then, and perhaps not till
then, will the physical training of the
young receive the attention it deserves.
THE END.
�INDEX
[For this Index the author is indebted to F. H. Collins, Esq., of Edgbaston,
Birmingham, who very kindly volunteered to prepare it for him.]
A.
Abstract-Sciences and their industrial appli
cations, 19 ; those of the abstract-concrete, 19
“ Accomplishments, the,” in a lady’s education,
10
Accountant, the facility acquired by one, 36 ;
Nature, a strict, 113-115
Activities, classification of the, 13
Æsthetic culture, the value of, 30-31
Agriculture, aided by Chemistry, 20, and by
Biology, 21
Amusements and Relaxations, the knowledge
aiding the, 30-35 .
Anatomy and Botany as cultivating the memory,
36
Ancestors, their vigour compared with our own,
no
“ Animal, a good,” the necessity to be, 43, 94
Animals, their rearing studied more than that
of children, 93 ; their vital processes allied to
man’s, 94 ; their energies dependent upon
their kinds of food, 100
Apperley, Mr., on hunters, 101-105
Applause, the general desire for, 11
Arithmetical Truths should be taught in the
concrete, 45
Asceticism and its Relation to Educational
Systems, 41
Astronomy, its industrial application, 21
Aveyron, the Wild Boy of, 48
B.
Bacon—“ The relative values ofknowledges,” 12
Battles, history is largely composed of their
descriptions, 27-28
Beauty, physical, in women is more attractive
than erudition, 18
Beliefs, the growing diversity in, 42
Bernard, M. Claude, on the functions of the
liver, 96
Biology, its application to agriculture, 21
Bodily Exercise, as needful for girls as boys,
106-109 ! in excess, diminishes thought, 114
Body, the cost of mental achievement to the,
114-117.
Books, their educational value over-rated, 25
Botany, its interest to Children, 58
Bread and Butter ; its too great frequency, 96, 103
Brain reacts upon the body, the, 114-117
Breakfast Roll, its history, 19
Burns, the lesson taught by, 84-90
Butterflies, their collection and keeping cultivate
the powers of observation, 59
C.
Candle, the penalty for playing with a lighted,
84
Cardboard, figures cut in, 64
Carelessness ; its natural penalty, 78-80
Caterpillar as an example of growth, 115
Centre of gravity in Sculpture, 32
Chemistry; its industrial value, 20
Children, prevalent ignorance concerning the
rearing of, 23-27 ; is harshness to children a
preparation for their after-life ? 73 ; moral
precocity equally detrimental with intellectual,
88; their love of fruits and sweets justified,
95-97
Chrysalis, as an example of Development, 115
Citizen, the knowledge which aids the functions
of the, 27-30
Civilisation ; its order, and that of education
should be similar, 52, 53
Classics, Public Opinion the motive for teaching
them, 9 ; and Mathematics form an insignifi
cant part of a proper Curriculum, 11-12
Clothing is a development of decoration, 9-11 ;
the natural penalty for its reckless treatment,
80; should suffice to prevent an abiding
sensation of cold, 103-106
Coal-mining, its Failure, from lack of geological
knowledge, 22
Cold, its ill-effects on the development of
children, 24, 103-106
Colours ; children’s delight in painting, 60
Combe, Dr. Andrew, on the advantages of Fruit
in Diet, 96, 97; on the importance of sufficient
Clothing, 105
Commands, Parents should give few, 89 ; but
when given they should be decisive and con
sistent, 89
Comte, M.—The Education of the Child should
accord with th it of mankind, considered
historically, 52
�INDEX
Concrete Sciences, and their industrial applica
tions, the, 19
Conduct, the right ruling of, in all divisions, the
aim of education, 13 ; of Society, Parents, and
Children relatively considered, 71-74 ; the
definitions of good and bad, 74
“Could a Man be Secure,” 12
Cramming Systems, their mischievous results,
HÔ-118
Culture, the desirableness of general, 15 ; the
present value of the Æsthetic, and its probable
future increase, 30-32
D.
HANTS, a knowledge of, a small consolation in
trouble, 27
Decision should be used by Parents in commands, 89
Decoration in Primitive Societies precedes dress,
9-11
Degenerating, are we ? no
Despotism in the State induces Despotism in
Education, 41
Development ; its long duration in Children, 48;
of the mind, 50-55 > an increase of structure
retards increase of size, 115
Discobolus, illustrates ignorance of the law of
momentum, the, 32
Diet. {See Food.)
Digestion, chemical changes in, 96 ; the organs
of, smaller in civilised than in savage races,
103, productive of lassitudes 114
Discipline ; Science superior to language for
cultivating the judgment and for moral dis.dpline, 35-39 ; of nature not wholly sufficient
for education, 47 ; of unavoidable consequences
or the penalties of Nature, 74-87 ; failure of
artificial criminal codes, 76 ; English school
discipline less severe than the French, 87 ;
the aim of, should be to produce a selfgoverning being, 90
Disease, the permanent damage done by, 17
■Drawing, when and how to teach, 60-63 >
apparatus for teaching perspective, 62
Dress. {See Clothing. )
Drinking without Thirst, its evils, 17, 103
Drunkenness, accompanied by physical de
generacy, 74, 119
E.
Eating without hunger, its evils, 17, 103
Education at the present time a matter of custom
and prejudice, 11. The ideal, a training in
each subject proportionate to its value, 15.
The omissions and vices of our present system,
31 ; and its relation to the contemporary social
. state, 40-43, 72-74- The past and present
systems compared, 43-48. It should conform
with the evolution of the faculties, 47-48.
Should be a repetition in little of civilisation,
53, 66 : and should commence in infancy with
object lessons, 55
Electricity and its industrial applications, 20
Emotions, the prevailing ignorance of their
nature» 24
121
Empirical should precede the rational in educa
tion, 53
Employers and employed ; their relations should
be noted in history, 29
Energy in well-fed races is greater than that in
ill-fed, 99-101
English and German Boys ; their relative charac
ters, 91
English and Foreign Labourers compared, 101
Error, suppression of one, followed by the
ascendency of another, 43
Euclid, an attractive study when addressed to
the understanding, 65
Evolution of the faculties should be the basis of
education, the, 47-48. The laws of mental
evolution, 50-55
Examinations cause the acquirement ot un
organised knowledge, which is soon forgotten,
26
Exercise, bodily, as needful for girls as boys,
106-109 > in excess diminishes thought, 114
Eye, an instance of faculty developed through
function, 36
,F.
Faculties are developed by the performance of
their functions, 36
Family, prevalent ignorance concerning the
rearing of a, 23-27 ; and its management, 69
Family _ Government, Richter on the present
chaotic state in, 70
Faraday, Professor, on the deficiency of judg
ment in society, 37
&
Fatigue of body or brain should be followed by
desistance, 17
Features of young children resemble those of a
savage, 87
Feelings react upon the reflective powers, the,
34
Fellenberg—Indolence is not natural to children,
54 J the importance of individual activity in
children, 67
Food, to be beneficial should be varied, 21,
103 ; sufficient in quantity--appetite being a
natural guide, 95-97 ; and for children highly
nutritious, 97-103 ; the easy digestibility of a
French dinner, 102 ; food as well as clothing
is necessary for maintaining the heat of the
body, 104-106.
Forbes, Sir John, on the present division of time
in girls’ schools, III
Fruit, children’s love for, also its digestibility, 96
Friendship, between parents and children, should
be cultivated, 83-87
G.
Games of children develop the system and pre
pare it for after life, 16
Genius as well as science necessary to attain the
highest results, 34
Geography, in teaching, physical, should precede
political, 26
Geology : its industrial applications, 21 ; a
knowledge of increases the poetry of nature,
34
Geometry: its industrial uses, 19 ; its lessons
�INDEX
122
should commence empirically with models,
and afterwards proceed to the rational with
Euclid, 63-66 ; Inventional Geometry, 66;
Professor Tyndall, on rendering it attractive,
65
Grammar coming after language historically,
should be taught after it, 44
Growth is affected by the food consumed, 97100; and by the temperature experienced,
104; an increase of size retards increase of
structure, 115
H.
Happiness, regarded as a legitimate aim, 41 ;
favourable to physical and mental action, 54,
66-68, 109
Hardening Theory, its ill effects on children’s
health, 104
Health, its importance for all activities, 17-18,
109, 117 ; some causes and effects of ill-health,
17, 104, no; affected by over-study, 110-118;
its preservation a duty, 119
Heart, influences affecting its action, 115
Heat, its science and industrial applications, 20
Heredity and the transmission of defects, 52, 72;
likewise of those caused by over-study, 111
History, considered part of a good education,
10 ; its worthlessness as now taught, 15, 27 ;
as it should be taught, 28-30
Huxley, Professor, on true science and religion,
38
I.
Ignorance, the various effects produced by
parental, 23
Impulsiveness should be avoided by parents,
89
Indefinite in education should precede the defi
nite, the, 51
Indolence in children is unnatural—Fellenberg,
54
■
•
, ■
Insects, their collection and keeping cultivate
the powers of observation, 58
Instincts of an infant, self-preservative, 16. They
show that progression should be from the
simple to the complex, 56
Interest, the advantages of doing work with, 67
Inventional Geometry, 66
K.
Kingsley, Mr., his writings against over
culture, 94
Knowledge, the importance of knowing its rela
tive value, 12; and Discipline form the two
values of an acquirement, 16; Rational
superior to Empirical, 22 ; it should be orga
nised, and not merely acquired, 116
L.
Labourers, English and Foreign compared, 101
Language inferior to Science for cultivating the
judgment and the memory, 36
Learning by rote inferior to Self-instruction, 26 ;
and now falling into disuse, 43
Lehman, on the quantity of Carbonic Acid
excreted by Children and Adults, 105
Leisure, the occupations of, 12, 30
Liebig—Clothing is an equivalent for a certain
amount of food, 104
Life, its present, falls below its possible dura
tion, 17 ; the Tables of Mortality show its in
creased length, 109
Light, the science of, and its industrial applica
tions, 20
Livelihood, gaining a (indirect self-preservation),
the knowledge which best aids, 19-23
Locke, John, on the futility of very severe
punishment, 87
M.
Machinery, its all-prevailing use, 19
Mann, Horace—“ Education consists too much
at present in telling, and not training” 67
Marcel, M.—“ Grammar is not a stepping-stone,
but the finishing instrument,” 44 ; Weights and
Measures should be taught by the use of
models, 45 ; the Child should be shown the
relation of the parts of an object, 56 ; for the
Mind, it is better to discover than be told, 67
Mathematics indispensable for the arts of con
struction, 19; and Classics form an insignificant
part of a proper curriculum, 11-12
Maxims, of Art are related to psychologic prin
ciples, 34; and Rules for parental guidance,
87-92
Memory and Judgment cultivated by science,
the, 36-37
Mirabeau and the word “ impossible,” 65
Modern life, its increasing strain necessitates a
sound constitution, 94, no
Moderation to be used and moderate results
expected, 88
Montaigne—Sqavoir par cceurn'estpas st;avoir, 43
Mortality, and the effects of cold on infants
abroad, 105; Tables of, show an increased
length of life, 109
Multiplication Table should be taught experi
mentally, 43
Music based on science, 33
N.
Natural History trains the powers of observa
tion in children, and should be encouraged,
58, 82
. .
r
Navigation an industrial application of astro
nomy, 21
Neatness inculcated by the natural penalties for
untidiness, 77-78
Nerve, the effects on the heart of irritating the
vagus, 115
Newton, an example of patience, 65
Nursery, one of the evils of over legislation in
the, 95
O.
Object Lessons, their importance in commenc
ing education, 45, 56-66
Observation, important tocultivate the powers of,
44
�INDEX
Opinions, the various revolutions affecting, 4043
Ornament in dress predominates over use
among savages, 9-11
Over-study, some instances of, and injuries
brought on by, 110-118
P.
Painting, based on science, 32 ; children’s
delight in should be made an incentive to
drawing, 60
Palmerston’s, Lord, “All Children are born
Good,” 71
Paper, children’s powers of manipulation increase
by cutting objects in, 64
Parents, their duties precede those of the citizen,
14; the knowledge which aids them in rearing
children, 23-27 ; their conduct and children’s
relatively considered, 71-74, 76, 80-82 ; their
conduct, and not children’s perversity, a fre
quent cause of disorder, 71; mostly considered
as “friend-enemies,” 83; maxims and rules
for their guidance, 87-92
Particulars in education should precede the
generalisation, 44, 52
Penalties, the natural, considered for the lighter
offences, 74-82 J and for the more serious,
82-87
Perspective, when and how to teach it, 62 ; its
practicability, 67
Pestalozzi—Education should conform to mental
evolution, 46; his practice did not conform to
the principles of his system, 48-50 ; education
should begin in infancy, 55
Physiology, ignorance of its principles is pro
ductive of ill-health, 17-18 ; a knowledge of
it is necessary for bringing up children, 26
Picture, its true theory is that of objects projected
on a plane, 63
Pillans, Professor — Children when properly
taught as happy as wh- n at play, 68
Poetry, scientific principles necessary to true, 33;
science is itself poetic, 34
Precocity, intellectual should be discouraged, 43 ;
likewise moral precocity, 88; its ultimate
effect is a falling short in size and power, 114
Promptings of nature should be obeyed, 17
Psychology, its guidance needed by parents and
teachers, 25, 26, 49 ; its principles underlie
the maxims of art, 34
Public Schools and their Teaching, 23 ; their
discipline, 73, 87
Punctuality, to be instilled by the use of its
natural penalty, 79
R.
Railway making regulated by Geometry, 19;
children’s restlessness in travelling by, 72
Relaxations and Amusements, the knowledge
which aids the, 30-35
Religion and Science, Professor Huxley on,
.38-9
Richter, his description of the chaotic state of
moral education, 70; Pas trop gouverner, 89
123
S.
Sçavoir par cœur n‘est pas sçavoir—Montaigne,
43
Schools, the Public and their teaching, 23 ; their
discipline, 73, 87 ; English and Foreign com
pared, 91 ; the division of time in various,
111-112
Sculpture based on the principles of science, 32.
Science, its truths are of intrinsic value, 15 ; of
society and its industrial uses, 21 ; underlies
art> 3r—35 î is poetic, 34; cultivates the
memory and the judgment, 36-37 ; and fosters
religion, 38-39 ; the universal need for, 39 ;
the Cinderella of knowledge, 40 ; evolves
from its corresponding art, 53
Self-control, needful to parents, 89
Self-governed, the aim of education is to produce
a being, 90
Self-instruction to be encouraged, 53, 66 ; its
lasting advantages, 67-9
Self-preservation is primarily important, 13 ; the
knowledge which aids Direct, 16-18 ; and
Indirect, or gaining a livelihood, 18-23
Self-renunciation necessary to scientific men,
Professor Tyndall on the, 38
Self-will in Children not to be regretted, 91
Simple in Education should precede the com
plex, the, 50
Social Observances should be noted in History,
28 ; Social Phenomena are the phenomena of
life, 30
Society, its goodness is dependent on the nature
of its citizens, 14, 30; “Is ignorant of its own
ignorance”—Professor Faraday, 37
Species, their number in Botany and in Zoology,
36 . .
Sugar, its importance as Food, 96
Sympathy, children’s desire for, 55-58 ; the
regret for offending varies with the amount of,
86
T.
Theft, why catalogued as a sin, 74 ; its natural
penalty, 86
Time, Systematised Education will increase the
amount of Leisure, 30 ; its division at various
schools, Hi-112
Tyndall, Professor, on Inductive Inquiry, 38 ;
on teaching Geometry attractively, 65
V.
Vaccination, a possible cause of degeneration,
110
Vegetarianism entails diminished energy, 99-102
W.
Whipping Juvenile Criminals not preventive of
crime, 87
Wyse, Mr., On the rational method of teaching
geometry, 63
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X /A ITih A IT
Al ORAL NERVE
AND THE ERROR OF
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By FURNEAUX JORDAN, F.R.C.S.,
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All the incidents of intelligent life are the outcome of living.nerve-matter. .With the ascent of
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Victorian Blogging
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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Education : intellectual, moral, and physical
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Spencer, Herbert [1820-1903]
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: London
Collation: 126, [2] p. ; 22 cm.
Series title: R.P.A. Cheap Reprints
Series number: No. 6
Notes: Part of the NSS pamphlet collection. Index compiled by F.H. Collins of Edgbaston [and it's very good - cataloguer's note]. Bust of Spencer on front cover. Publisher's advertisements on last two numbered pages and unnumbered pages at the end. Issued for the Rationalist Press Association, Limited. First published London: Williams & Norgate, 1861. The cheap edition of the work first published 1878. Stamp on title page "2d given. If this book is returned to W.A. Foyle, 65 Grand Parade, Harringay". Includes bibliographical references and index.
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1903
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RA1241
N620
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Education
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Text
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English
Education
Moral Education
NSS
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Price One Penny.
NATIONAL SECULAR SOCIETY
A Hundred Years
of Education
Controversy
JOSEPH
McCABE
AUTHOR OF “THE TRUTH ABOUT SECULAR EDUCATION,*’
ETC., ETC.
London:
WATTS & CO.,
17, JOHNSON’S COURT, FLEET STREET, E.C.
1907
�ZTbe Secular Education ^League,
19, BUCKINGHAM STREET, STRAND, W.C.
Hon. Treasurer: H. S. Leon, Esq., J.P.. Bletchley Park, Bucks.
Secretary: H. Snell.
Bankers: London Joint Stock Bank, Limited.
The Secular Education League has been formed in order to bring
before the country and His Majesty’s Government what is regarded
by a rapidly-increasing number of people as the only permanent,
just, and satisfactory solution of the religious difficulty in national
education—viz., that all State-paid education should be confined to
secular subjects. It aims at binding together in one effective
organisation all who favour the “Secular Solution” of the Educa
tion problem, without reference to any other convictions—political,
social, or religious—that they may entertain.
In view of the Education Bill which is announced for next year,
the Executive Committee and General Council of the League
earnestly invite all who are persuaded of the justice and advisability
of Secular Education to enrol themselves upon its list of members.
The minimum subscription is One Shilling per annum, and it is
important that the League should have the support of all who
adhere to its principles.
The League has already nearly 1,000 members, including, in
addition to many Members of Parliament and well-known public
men, about 250 clergy and ministers of all denominations ; and it
appeals for help to enable it to carry on its work.
PUBLICATIONS DEALING WITH SECULAR EDUCATION.
THE TRUTH ABOUT SECULAR EDUCATION : its History
and Results. By Joseph McCabe. 6d., by post yd.
«
THE BIBLE IN SCHOOL: A Question of Ethics. With special
reference to the coming Education Bill. By J. Allanson Picton,
M.A. 6d., by post 8d.
NATIONAL EDUCATION AND THE SECULAR SOLUTION.
By A. M. Scott, id., by post i|d.
SECULAR SCHOOLS.
post 2^d.
By the Rev. S. D. Headlam.
THE CASE FOR SECULAR EDUCATION.
id., by post i|d.
THE INEVITABLE IN EDUCATION.
by post i|d.
2d., by
By H. Snell.
By R. Roberts,
Any of the above publications will be supplied by
Messrs. Watts & Co.
id.,
�2.
KI
A HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION
CONTROVERSY
The lamentable conflict in regard to religious teaching in
our elementary schools is conceived by many to be an acute
crisis that wise and just statesmanship may presently
remove. Painful as it is to all citizens that the important
work of our schools should, even for a decade, be hampered
so grievously, there is a wide hope that some Minister of
Education will yet adjust the balance between the claims of
the religious bodies, or that their leaders will come to a
prudent compromise. Hence, though there is a growing
inclination to favour the secular solution, large numbers of
people still refuse to look on it as inevitable. Their memory
ranges back, at the most, as far as 1870, and they feel that the
time has not yet come to despair of finding a satisfactory
adjustment of religious claims.
History is the memory of nations. Citizens and states
men are as strictly bound to scan its records in the ordering
of great national issues as they are to consult their personal
experience in the conduct of private affairs. And the
moment one turns to the history of this education controversy
one feels that the hope of finding any stable compromise
sinks perilously close to zero. For one hundred years
the same controversy has raged in England. For one
hundred years the representatives of Anglicanism and
Nonconformity have sought in vain for a satisfactory
adjustment of their claims. For one hundred years educa
tionists and statesmen have been harassed and impeded in
their work by this interminable dispute about religious
education in the schools ; and we are to-day not one inch
nearer to a settlement of it than our grandfathers were in 1807.
This, surely, is a circumstance to be taken into serious
account in the actual controversy about the schools.
3
�4
A HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION CONTROVERSY
Just one hundred years ago, in the year 1807, Mr.
Whitbread, member for Bedford, introduced an educational
measure into the House of Commons. Social writers like
Adam Smith (1776) had long urged that it was the
Government’s duty, and would be to the nation’s advantage,
to set up a national school-system. A prominent clergyman
(Malthus, in 1798) described the condition of things in this
country as “a national disgrace.” Another, Sydney Smithy
at the beginning of the century, declared that “ there was no
Protestant country in the world where the education of the
poor was so grossly and so infamously neglected as in
England.” Three centuries after the Reformation and the
invention of printing only one in twenty of the population
could read and write. There were, of course, schools in the
country. Thousands of grammar schools, poor schools,
dames’ schools, and Sunday schools were in existence; but
their work was ridiculously meagre and ineffective. Mr.
Whitbread’s Bill proposed, therefore, that local authorities
should have power to set up and maintain schools wherever
they were needed.
Into the details of the Bill we need not inquire, as it never
became law. It passed the Commons, but was rejected
contemptuously by the Lords. The Lord Chancellor (Eldon)
and the Archbishop of Canterbury denounced it as a peril to
their respective orders. It was, in fact, openly acknowledged
that the Bill was allowed to pass the Commons only on the
understanding that it would be demolished in the Lords.
It is important to realise that, though there were at that
time other formidable impediments to the education of the
people, the chances of the Bill were imperilled by just the
same controversy that we wage to-day. There was an
aristocratic objection to the education of the workers-—Sir S.
Romilly wrote in his diary that most of the Commoners even
“ thought it expedient that the people should be kept in
ignorance ”—but the chief difficulty was religious. It was
regarded as the thin end of the wedge of secular action, and
was mainly opposed on that account. The Archbishop of
Canterbury denounced it roundly as derogatory to the
authority of the Church.
The truth was that—many will learn with astonishment—
�A HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION CONTROVERSY 5
the same three parties held the educational field in 1807 that
we find waging their endless war in it to-day. The most
powerful party, the Churchmen, claimed full denominational
teaching in the schools; the Nonconformists and many
neutral politicians thought—precisely as their grandchildren
think—that simple Bible lessons were the ideal ; and the
followers of Adam Smith (men like Robert Owen, a great
educationist) pleaded for purely secular instruction. It was
a golden age of educational reformers, though England was
in so backward a condition. Rousseau, Froebel, Pestalozzi,
and Herbart had stirred Europe with their ideas. In
Manchester a little group of social students, including
Coleridge and the great chemist Dalton, discussed them.
One of the group was the Quaker Joseph Lancaster, a man of
deep religious and philanthropic feeling. He founded a
system of elementary schools for the poor (known after 1814
as “The British and Foreign School Society”), and when,
says Mr. Holman, the wealthy found that “ children could be
taught next to nothing for next to nothing,” he secured
considerable support. Another of the Manchester group,
Robert Owen, set up in Scotland a large school on purely
secular principles, and it soon became one of the wonders of
Europe. Foreign Governments sent officials to study it.
The father of Queen Victoria was one of its greatest admirers.
Thus undenominationalists and secular educationists were
both in the field by 1804 ; and the third party quickly made
its appearance. A Mrs. Trimmer discovered—as so many
Mrs. Trimmers do in our day—that the Lancastrian schools
were heretical, and she induced an Anglican clergyman,
Dr. Bell, to take the field with a scheme of denominational
schools in 1805. Churchmen gathered at once under the
new banner, while the Nonconformists rallied round
Lancaster ; and the country, just one hundred years ago, was
ringing with what flippant writers called “ the conflict of Bel(l)
and the Dragon,” or what the historian must call the first
act in the drama (or tragedy) of our educational controversy.
Two generations have passed away, but the same battle rages
round our schools, the same war-cries resound, the same
plausible suggestions are thrust on us, and there is the same
utter lack of any means of compromise ; except that now we
�6
A HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION CONTROVERSY
have the plain experience of a hundred years to teach us how
impossible all idea of compromise is.
The succeeding acts in the drama are in substance but a
repetition of the first. The scene changes marvellously as
the last traces of feudalism are swept away : the actors pass
behind the wings, and new ones come on. But the issue
remains the same, and the obstacles remain. The limits of
this essay would not suffice to set out the whole story in
detail, and I must be content to dwell on a few of the chief
stages of it. The struggle between the Denominationalists
and Undenominationalists was carried on vigorously and
unceasingly.
In 1811 Dr. Bell’s supporters founded the
“ National Society for Promoting the Education of the Poor
in the Doctrines of the Established Church,” in opposition to
the “ Royal Lancastrian Institution ” (which became the
“British and Foreign Schools Society ” in 1814). In both
cases the instruction given was of the poorest conceivable
type. Dr. Bell recommended a barn as a good structure for a
school, and insisted that the children of the workers should
not be taught “ beyond their station.” In both sets of schools
the monitorial system (the teaching of children by children), a
pernicious system, was adopted. They fell incalculably short
of Owen’s splendid school at New Lanark, where one found
the finest methods then known and a curriculum of equal
breadth to that of the modern Council school. By the year
1818 there was still only one in seventeen of the population
of England in school, and the coarseness and viciousness of
the peasantry and factory-workers were terrible.
At this point Lord Brougham (then Mr. Brougham) and
other politicians took up the cause of national education once
more. There had been a State system of schools in Prussia
since 1794, in Holland since 1814, and in France since the
rule of Napoleon. In the American States education was far
advanced, and we had ourselves set up an excellent system
in Scotland in 1803, and voted £23,000 for the Protestant
schools in Ireland in the very year that Whitbread’s Bill was
rejected. The condition of the country was scandalous, and
men like Brougham pleaded that it was time wealthy
England did something to remove the gross illiteracy of its
people. In 1816 Brougham secured an inquiry into the
�A HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION CONTROVERSY 7
educational state of London. In the comparatively small
London of that time it was found that 120,000 children had no
schooling- whatever. They played in the streets—streets and
courts of a foulness inconceivable to us to-day, for London
and Paris were, until fifty years ago, inferior to ancient Rome
or Babylon in sanitation—until their ninth year, and then
they entered the army of illiterate workers, with stunted
minds. Brougham then, in 1818, had a Select Committee
appointed to deal with educational charities. He had a
shrewd idea that, if these endowments were equitably and
economically managed, we could set up a system of schools
without calling on the national Exchequer.
How that scheme was defeated, and educational endow
ments are to this day diverted from that instruction of the
poor for which they were intended, it is not within the limits
of this essay to consider. But in 1820 Brougham introduced
a general educational measure into Parliament, and this was
wrecked on the rock of the religious difficulty. In view of
the imperfect municipal life of the time the proposals of the
Bill were not without merit. The magistrates and the local
clergy were to act in conjunction in building schools
wherever they were needed, and the funds were to come partly
from local, partly from national resources. It was a fair begin
ning of a national scheme. But Brougham soon found that one
yawning gulf lay across the line of progress, after all scruples
about national economy and the danger of educating the
workers had been removed. This was the now familiar
pitfail of compromise as to religious instruction. Brougham
met the Churchmen by giving the Anglican minister almost
absolute control over the schoolmaster. He could fix his
salary, arrange or modify his secular curriculum, and
examine the poor teacher when he willed. But Brougham
sought then to conciliate the Nonconformists by excluding all
denominational teaching from the curriculum. Simple Bible
lessons, the ever-ancient and ever-new device, were expected
to satisfy all the sects, and the Lord’s Prayer was the only
element of ritual to be admitted. For the sequel we have
only to recall our recent experience, and remember that
history repeats itself. Neither religious party was satisfied ;
neither would abate its claims to any practicable extent. The
�8
A HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION CONTROVERSY
Bill had to be withdrawn, and for another thirteen years we
continued to bear what Malthus had called our “ national
disgrace ” because our clergy could not find a compromise in
regard to their conflicting claims.
I do not mean that the disgrace was removed in 1833, but
that year witnessed the first modest beginning of national
action in regard to the schools. It will be remembered that
1832 had seen the passing of the great Reform Bill. Enor
mous expectations had been aroused in the workers of the
country, and it was under pressure of a more or less serious
danger of civil war that Parliament was at length reformed
and the franchise extended. The whole hope of social
reform in the country now centred on the reformed House of
Commons, but the hope was quickly converted into disap
pointment as far as education was concerned. Under pressure
of Mr. Roebuck and others, Lord John Russell was induced
in 1833 to Pass an annual grant for educational purposes of
,£20,000. In that same year the small State of Prussia granted
.£600,000 for its schools. But the niggardliness of the grant
was not the worst feature. Dreading the religious feeling in
the country, the Government decided to hand over the money
each year to the two rival societies of voluntary schools. Not
only did the Journal of Education warmly protest at the time,
but experts are now agreed that this distribution utterly
prevented any increase of educational work and augmented
religious rivalry. As the grant was given on a basis of
funds already provided by the societies, the more wealthy
Church-society got the lion’s share. Of £600,000 granted in
the next seventeen years, the Church schools got £475,000.
A body of educational reformers had by this time formed
themselves into a Central Society of Education, and pressed
unceasingly for national action. But the Bishop of London
and other prelates denounced the Society, and for six years
more thwarted its action. By the year 1839 more than half
the children of the country were still utterly illiterate, and the
majority of the remainder received only a pretence of educa
tion. Dean Alford was moved to write in that year : “ There
is no record of any people on earth so highly civilised, so
abounding in arts and comforts, and so grossly and generally
ignorant, as the English.” There was, indeed, a minority of
�A HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION CONTROVERSY 9
liberal and distinguished Anglican clergy who deplored the
situation—men like Whately, Hook, Stanley, and Kingsley;
but the overwhelming majority of the clergy of all sects
were obstinate in their respective claims. A few words on
the situation at this date (1839) from the two leading
historians of the subject will make it clear that I do not
exaggerate the injury done to education by the religious
controversy. Mr. Holman says, in his English National
Education (in the “Victorian Era Series”) : “This continued
impotence of Parliament to provide a national remedy for
what every single member of both Houses admitted to be a
national disgrace and danger is probably one of the most
striking features in the whole of its history. The only thing
that kept the Government from making the mass of the
people human was the determination of some to keep them
from being made anything less than divine.” And the only
other English writer of distinction on English education in
the nineteenth century, Mr. Adams, says: “The interdict
against a united and national system came from the moral
teachers of the people, and was pronounced necessary in
the interests of religion.” Even liberal Churchmen like
F. D. Maurice would admit no compromise. Any children,
he said, ought to be admitted to the Church schools (now
receiving ,£20,000 a year from national funds), but they must
submit to Church teaching.
Two observations on the situation at this period are not
without interest in view of our actual controversy. In the
first place, we must note that it is the very sincerity and
devotedness to their doctrines of the clergy that raised the
most formidable obstacle to the progress of education. How
ever much one may dissent from their doctrines and differ
from their estimate of the value to mankind of those doctrines,
one may respect their zeal in the interest of what they deem
to be of great importance. In the earlier years of the educa
tion controversy one can understand how they could lose
sight of the general civic interest under the stress of their
religious zeal. But it is surely time that their modern
successors realised the error of thus mixing up civic and
ecclesiastical ideals. We look back on a stretch of history in
which that mixture has wrought terrible mischief to the civic
�IO
A HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION CONTROVERSY
ideal. The interminable wrangle has shown us that no
satisfactory adjustment of their conflicting claims is possible ;
and that the civic interest must be studied on a purely civic
basis, and the religious interest confined to religious teachers
in the religious atmosphere of the church or chapel.
The second observation I would make is that there has
been a remarkable change since those days in the character of
the instruction given in elementary schools. Some politi
cians still speak of the “ religious atmosphere ” in the
denominational school, and maintain that it is not a mere
question whether we shall transfer a few religious lessons
from the school to the church. The use of this phrase is very
largely an empty tradition of the earlier school. Up to the
middle of the century the whole curriculum was pervaded
with religious ideas. When we listen to-day to the claim
that the Anglican or Roman Catholic school has a general
permeation of religious feeling, we wonder how it is possible
to find this religious atmosphere in the long hours that are
filled with lessons on arithmetic, geography, grammar, and
such subjects. There is, of course, no religious element
whatever in these lessons to-day (and they form four-fifths of
the whole curriculum of the denominational school),1 but
there was fifty and more years ago. Manuals of arithmetic
and geography are still to be found that show a real
“ religious atmosphere,” and Mr. Holman gives many details
in his interesting history. Arithmetical problems were
founded largely on the Old Testament, and geography
centred on Palestine much as a medieval map would have
done. Now that these lessons have become purely secular,
and religious instruction is confined to a few prayers and
hymns and half-hour lessons, no very great change will be
involved in transferring them to the proper home of religious
cultivation.
However, let us return to the historical study. Statistics
showed that whereas in Prussia one in six of the population
attended school, in Switzerland one in seven, and in Holland
one in nine, in wealthy England the proportion was one in
1 The present writer was educated in a denominational school, was after
wards co-manager of a denominational school, and later rector of a denomina
tional college.
�A HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION CONTROVERSY n
fourteen. Clearly the voluntary societies were not dis
charging-the function of educating the nation. Educationists
redoubled their pressure. They obtained an increase of the
annual grant from ,£20,000 to £"30,000—not a formidable
matter, Brougham pleasantly observed to the Lords, seeing
that they were that year voting £70,000 for the building of
royal stables—and they at last secured a beginning of
governmental action in the work of education. One of the
most pressing needs in the country was for the efficient
training of the teachers. Even in the Lancastrian body six
months’ training was thought amply sufficient for an
elementary-school teacher. Indeed, what was given in the
great bulk of the schools of the country would not be admitted
by any modern expert to be “ education ” at all in any real
sense. The teachers were miserably inefficient; and when
we learn that their average income was only about £22 a
year we can imagine what type of people they were. The
Government therefore proposed to set up a Normal School
(training college) at Kneller Hall.
They were at once
confronted by the religious difficulty, and their scheme
foundered once more on it. They proposed to pay only the
teachers of secular subjects in the training college, and leave
the students of each denomination free to bring in ministers
of their respective bodies for religious lessons. Once more
the conflicting interests of the Churches wrecked the scheme,
and it was years before there was any effective training of
teachers in the country.
But Lord John Russell triumphed over clerical opposition
in one important respect, and made a beginning of national
action. He formed a Committee of the Privy Council on
Education, and this slender institution was destined to grow
in time into our modern Education Department. But what
storms of religious opposition it had to face in its early
months I The Bishops of London and Chichester led the
vast majority of the clergy in a violent assault upon this
intrusion, as they called it, of the State on the Church’s
domain. There were Churchmen, like the Bishop of Durham,
who saw how gravely national interests were being thwarted,
and were willing to compromise. But the vast majority of
the clergy were vehemently opposed to State action.
�12 A HUNDRED
YEARS OF EDUCATION CONTROVERSY
Nonconformists proclaimed the new Committee to be “a
secular tyranny, ” while Churchmen denounced it as a menace
to the Establishment. The religious war of 1906 was tame
ness itself compared to the war on the new education
authority, slight as it was, in 1839. The bishops and the
lords temporal actually walked in procession from the House
to Buckingham Palace—a unique incident, I think, in the
annals of that dignified body—and begged Queen Victoria to
abolish the Committee. The young Queen answered them
with a truer dignity than their own. She told them that she
had sanctioned the Government’s proposals from a deep and
well-considered sense of duty to her people, and the Lords
went away disappointed.
The controversy went on for some time with great vigour,
and in fact it was only moderated by another of those fatal
concessions to the clergy that hindered the real progress of
education. By a more or less secret arrangement the
Anglican clergy were granted control over the inspectors of
schools who were appointed under the new authority. It was
an abdication of its functions that would be listened to with
amazement if it were proposed in our time, and it was an
unjust arrangement. The religious lessons given in the
(undenominational) schools of the British and Foreign
Society were controlled by Church inspectors, and the
irritation and rivalry were greatly increased. The new
Committee fell so far under the dictation of the archbishops
that in 1840 it passed a minute directing that “ their lordships
were of opinion that no plan of education ought to be
encouraged in which intellectual instruction was not subor
dinated to the regulation of the thoughts and habits of the
children by the doctrines and precepts of revealed religion.”
This unjust preponderance stirred the Nonconformists to
continuous action, while expert educationists tell us that
elementary education steadily deteriorated. The passing of
the Factory Acts was supposed to have secured some measure
of instruction for the children of the factory-workers. In
point of fact the Act was flagrantly scouted. Children of
tender years were still worked for twelve hours a day, and
the education provided for them was farcical. The lodge
keeper, or the stoker’s wife, would gather them in some dark
�A HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION CONTROVERSY 13
shed—often in the coal-house—and laboriously teach them to
identify the letters of the alphabet. The country was over
run with poor widows, crippled workers, and all kinds of
impoverished people who earned a few shillings a week
by “teaching.” The Central Education Society fought
desperately for some improvement, and in 1843 two important
efforts were made. Both were wrecked on the perennial
religious difficulty. The first was a Bill for the effective
instruction of factory children. They were very largely of
Nonconformist parentage, yet the Bill unluckily gave higher
control to the Anglicans—who had wrecked every measure
that did not do so—and the Dissenters naturally resented it.
They had now become sufficiently powerful to oppose such
measures with effect, and they forced the withdrawal of the
Bill. This triumph brought home to them the fact that the
extension of the franchise had enormously increased their
political power, and this deepened the long political struggle
over the schools, and added the further complication of our civic
and political life with the conflicting and irreconcilable claims
of the clergy. The situation became worse than ever. Let
me express it impersonally in the estimate given by Mr.
Holman, the impartial historian of the subject.
The
Dissenters, he says, “ now fought for their own hand in the
same way as the Church party did, and combined with the
latter and others to resist the exercise of control by the State
authorities ; and thus they became real obstructionists to
national progress in education.” The Congregationalists
alone deserve a partial exemption from this heavy censure.
They at least refused to accept State aid, and enjoined their
members to support their own denominational schools. The
Roman Catholics were in the same logical position until a
few years ago.
The second effort of the reformers in 1843 was to introduce
a Bill, in the name of Mr. Joseph Hume, for purely secular
and moral education, but it was counted out. The reformers,
however, manfully continued their work, and gradually won
some of the great Dissenters to their view. In 1847 they
founded in Lancashire—always honourably placed in the
history of education—a league for the furtherance of their
aims. The famous Corn-law orators, Cobden and John
�i4
A HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION CONTROVERSY
Bright, lent their support to it. The radicals of the south
joined forces with it, and it gradually attained considerable
power. From a “Lancashire Association” it became a
National Public Schools Association.” There seemed a
prospect at last of convincing the country of the impractica
bility of balancing religious claims in regard to the
elementary schools, and rescuing the instruction of the
people from this harassing association with theology.
In 1850 the League decided to test their strength. The
minister of South Place (London) Chapel, Mr. W. J. Fox, a
brilliant speaker on social reforms and member of Parliament
for Oldham, introduced a comprehensive measure into the
House. The inspectors were to report on the deficiency of
schools in particular districts, and an efficient provision for
universal education was to be made out of the local rates.
Denominational schools were not to be superseded, but would
in future only be paid for the secular instruction they
imparted. On the other hand, the new Government schools,
which were to give free education, should be controlled in
the matter of giving or omitting undenominational instruction
by a kind of local option. The Bill projected a vast advance
in the field of elementary education, but it was resented by
both religious parties, and was heavily defeated on the
second reading. The National Association—supported as it
was by Dissenters like Cobden, Fox, Milner Gibson, and
W. E. Forster—was fiercely attacked, and denounced as
irreligious. They had put before the country, members said
in the House, a choice between Heaven or Hell, God or the
Devil. So for the sixth time a fair and promising scheme of
national improvement was shattered on the rock of the
religious difficulty.
The various acts in the drama of our educational history
are, in fact, so similar in essence, so closely parallel to the
act we are taking part in to-day, that one moves rapidly on to
the end of the century. Education remained in a state of
partial paralysis. Mr. Fox had read to the House a manifesto
issued by a large body of London working men, in which
they complained pathetically of this paralysis. It concluded :
“ The controversy has waxed hotter and more furious; our little
ones have been forgotten in the fray, and their golden moments
�A HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION CONTROVERSY 15
have been allowed to run irrevocably to waste.” It needs
little reflection to convince one that this was no exaggeration.
The member of schools in England at the time is no test
whatever of the educational work done. The vast majority
were ridiculously inefficient. Teachers were given an absurd
modicum of training, and inspectors were given no training
whatever until 1857. The greater part of the machinery was
rusty and antiquated, and the salaries were too slender to
attract competent men. Anyone who reads Mr. Kay’s
comparison of England with the continental countries in
1850 will be amazed at the appalling statements of this great
expert. As late as i860 it was stated in a Government
report that out of the two and a-half million children in the
country only one and a-half million were at school ; and of
these 800,000 were found in flagrantly inefficient schools,
under teachers who themselves reached no decent standard of
education. London was far below the level of any large
Roman town of fifteen centuries earlier. In fact, few children
of the Roman towns had been without elementary education.
Yet every measure for the betterment of the situation was
met with the same resistance. Mr. Forster’s Bill for the
education of the poor was rejected in 1867, and the storm
that raged about his great Bill of 1870, when the Board
schools were founded, is too well known to enlarge upon.
Forster found that two-fifths of our children between the
ages of six and ten, and one-third between the ages of ten
and twelve, had no education whatever ; that, in other words,
one and a-half million of our children were still untouched
by the influence of the teacher, such as it was. No wonder
that he wrote bitterly to Kingsley : “ I wish parsons, Church
and other, would all remember as much as you do that
children are growing into savages while they are trying to
prevent one another from helping.”
The rest of the story needs no telling. The familiar
device of giving “ simple Bible lessons ” was again dignified
with the position of a great political expedient, and thirty
seven years of hard experience have again proved its futility.
Surely it is time that we all, clergy and laity, recognised this
plain fact of its uselessness ? Mr. Birrell rightly disavowed
any claim to originality in bringing it forward in 1906. It
�16
A HUNDRED YEARS OF EDUCATION CONTROVERSY
goes back to the time of his grandfather. It was CowperTempleism in 1870. It was Russellism in 1850, and
Durhamism in 1840, and Broughamism in 1820, and
Lancasterism in 1807. If is discredited by as prolonged and
explicit a political experience as was ever given to a
suggested compromise. It is as bitterly and powerfully
assailed to-day as it was in 1807. As long as it is retained,
it holds out a prospect of fresh wrangling with every swing of
the political pendulum.
The object of this essay is to inform those who fancy
that the giving of “simple Bible lessons” is a new
and imperfectly-tried device how completely it has
proved its impotence. And no other compromise is even
proposed to us. Happily the lesson is being read more
candidly to-day. The modern Secular Education League
has the support of distinguished Roman Catholics and many
clergy of the Anglican and Dissenting Churches. They
believe that they can sufficiently tend their religious interests
in their chapels, and they plead that we no longer hamper
our highest civic ideals and embarrass our political issues with
religious differences. We cannot call back on to our planet
the millions who have passed through England in the
nineteenth century without ever having their finer powers
developed ; the millions who have gone down into the
darkness with stunted souls, after a life of heavy drudgery
and the coarsest surroundings. But we can unite in the
framing of a unified and thoroughly effective system for
training the body, mind, and character of the child, and
we may leave the clergy to give the training in their own
doctrines in their own institutions.
PRINTED BY WATTS AND CO., 17, JOHNSON’S COURT, FLEET STREET, LONDON, E.C.
�
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Victorian Blogging
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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A hundred years of education controversy
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McCabe, Joseph [1867-1955]
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Place of publication: London
Collation: 16 p. ; 22 cm.
Notes: Part of the NSS pamphlet collection. Advertisement for the Secular Education League and its publications (published by Watts), inside front cover, i.e. p.[2].
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1906
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Education
Religion
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Education
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Religious Education-Great Britain
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Text
F
THE
Quarterly
Journal
OF
_________ E D U C A T I O N.
No. i.
'Vol. i.
MAY, 1867.
A WORD TO OUR READERS.
there room and need at the present time for a new educational
HI iournal? We think there is. Within the last quarter of a
Blsl century especially, education has made rapid strides through•
.
out the land. Not only have schools greatly multiplied, but
the improvement in the quality of their teaching is even more marked
than the increase in their number. Results, and not attendance of
scholars merely, is now expected and required from them. Grants for
education—which have increased from year to year; Schools of Design,
Mechanics Institutions, and Working Men’s Colleges ; the movement in
our great universities; the local examinations of Oxford and Cambridge
of the Society of Arts, and of the College of Preceptors; the discussions
m Parliament and the press, in social congresses and public meetings__all
evidence that the public mind is at length, and rapidly, becoming fully
alive to the importance of education, and attaining to a better under
standing of its requirements. It will be our ambition to render what aid
we can m furtherance of this great work. Education is a vast continent
even yet but partially explored and imperfectly cultivated. There is
much to be done, and we hope to secure the co-operation of many who
are engaged m the work of tuition, and of earnest, able, and tried friends
01 education 111 carrying out our enterprise.
It will be the especial aim of the Quarterly Journal of Education, by
promoting intercommunication among teachers and others interested in
education to bring about a closer sympathy between them, and a better
understanding of all matters connected with their common work.
m
wit11 PartP or sect’ the Quarterly Journal of Education
will afford facilities to the advocates of different systems and methods of
teaching to make known their respective views, so that all may benefit
by their mutual comparison. We shall discuss the books and appliances
most useful for teaching, and endeavour to place our readers as far as
possible au courant with whatever is most interesting in regard to educa
tion and its progress in all. parts of the kingdom. Essays, and occasion
ally examination-papers, will also appear in our columns. Such will be
the freight of the little bark we this day launch on its first voyage.
X’
I
�2
OUR EARLY ENGLISH SCIENTIFIC WRITERS.
BY THE EDITOR.
—---- LONG and barren period intervenes between the scientific
activity of ancient Greece and that of modern Europe.
During the middle ages philosophy was mystical and dog
matic father than experimental and inductive. Men did not
matic, rather
trust to Nature and experiment, but leaned upon the staff of authority,
and looked for guidance to the wisdom of the ancients, There was a
disposition “to study the opinions of others, as the only mode of form
ing their own; to read Nature through books; to attend terwhat had
been already thought and said, rather than to what really is and happens.
Euclid was mathematics, Aristotle natural history. To question what
Aristotle had said was almost as great an heresy as to question tne
dogmas and authority of the Church.
Philosophy thus came to be little else than an exposition of. the
thoughts of other men; and in place of independent investigation into
the phenomena of Nature, were compilations and epitomes.
Experi
menters were replaced by commentators; criticism took the place of
induction : and instead of great discoverers we had learned men; and
as a consequence (as Lord Bacon, in describing the character and state
of knowledge at this period, remarks), philosophy was 1 barren m effects,
fruitful in questions, slow and languid in its improvement. The following
sentences, which form the conclusion of a lecture—one upon a course .of
Euclid, delivered at Oxford—illustrate better, perhaps, than any descrip
tion, this temper of mind :—“ Gentlemen hearers, I. have performed
mv promise, I have redeemed my pledge, I have explained according tomy ability the definitions, postulates, axioms, and first eight propositions,
of the 1 Elements of Euclid.’ Here, sinking under the weight oi years,
I lay down my art and instruments.”
.
.
But though the great strides made by modern science date back
no farther than from the beginning of the seventeenth century, yet
earlier beams of light during that drear interval penetrated the thick
darkness around : a few bold spirits, from time to time, rose sypenor
to the mental indolence and superstition and scholastic pedantry that
prevailed, and, despite opprobrium and persecution, had the courage
to interrogate nature for themselves. Their “.ineffectual fires may
have “paled” in presence of the greater luminaries that have since
risen above the horizon; but they were the heralds, of the dawn, the
precursors of that brighter and better day in which it is. our happiness
to live
They faithfully handed down the torch of science, and did
somewhat also to increase its light. As there were reformers before
Martin Luther, so in modern Europe there were philosophers who to
some extent applied the inductive method in their researches before
Francis Bacon. They were the avant couriers of that great power which
has revolutionized the thought and changed the face of modern society,
and their names therefore deserve a place among, those which the world
will not willingly let die. Holding this conviction, I propose \ery
B
�Our Early English Scientific Writers,
,
3
briefly, to recall the names of some of those old English worthies who
in their day rendered such service as they pould in promoting a spirit
of inquiry into
“Nature’s infinite book of secrecy,”
(
•
j
’ ■
and in advancing our knowledge of, and control over, the phenomena
and forces of Nature.
The earliest English writer on science whose works have come down
to us was Adelard, a monk of Bath, who lived in the mid Hie of the
twelfth century. He is said to have been learned in all the science of
his time. In pursuit of knowledge he travelled through France, Ger
many, Italy, and Spain; and also visited Arabia, then the great seat of
learning. The. “Elements of Euclid” was translated by him out of
Arabic into Latin; a copy of which, beautifully written on parchment,
with illuminated capitals, may be seen among the Arundel Manuscripts
in the library of the British Museum. Beside this, and the translation
of a work on the “ Seven Planets,” he wrote several treatises on Physics,
and on Medicine, and one on the Seven Liberal Arts. A treatise by
him. on the Astrolabe is also preserved among the manuscripts in the
British Museum; its chief, if not its only, value now is as a curious spe
cimen of our early scientific literature.
Another scientific author, of some note in his time, was Daniel of
Merley, or, as he is sometimes called, Daniel Morley, who, if not a
contemporary of Adelard, flourished in the same century with him; and
like him travelled into Spain and Arabia to increase his learning.’ He
wrote a work on the “ Principles of Mathematics,” but of which no copy
is known to be extant. Another work by him, entitled “ De Inferior!
et Superior! Parte Mundi,” has been more fortunate in escaping the
ravages of time; a copy of it is preserved in the British Museum, bound
up with Adelard’s treatise on the Astrolabe. It is based on the Alma
gest of Ptolemy, and is dedicated to John, Bishop of Norwich. •
But, next to Roger Bacon, perhaps the most celebrated of our early
scientific authors was Robert Grosseteste, Bishop of Lincoln, who was
born in 1175, and died in 1253. If we are to credit his biographer, he
must have been a living encyclopaedia, having been not only profoundly
versed in Scripture (a rare attainment in those days, even in a bishop),
in theology, and. in ecclesiastical law, but also excelling in music, logic,’
metaphysical philosophy, mathematics, astronomy, and other branches
of natural philosophy. Besides being active in his episcopal duties, he
was a voluminous author. The catalogue of his works appended to’ his
biography shews that in addition to many theological and miscellaneous
treatises, he wrote on the “ Heat of the Sun,” on “ Motion,” on the
“ Quadrature of the Circle,” on the “ Air,” on the 11 Rainbow,” and on
the “Utility of the Sciences.” A selection of his scientific works was
published at Venice in 1514. From writing on astronomy he was called
an astrologer, and is so designated by the poet Gower; and like all who
at that time distinguished themselves by superior knowledge, he enjoyed
—or we should rather say suffered—the reputation of being a magician.
Stories were widely circulated and believed of his having invented a
speaking head made of brass, and of an infernal horse which he had
1— 2
�4
History- Teaching.
erected by his magic art, and on which he was said to have ridden
through the air to Rome. Whether these stories point to some mecha
nical inventions, which popular ignorance would be sure to attribute to
sorcery and connect with supernatural legend, cannot now be ascer
tained ; but we know that any extraordinary invention or discovery, as
the printing press, or gunpowder, would indubitably, in that age, be
fathered on the Evil One, as the illustrious friend of Grosseteste, Roger
Bacon, found to his cost.
But I must defer to another paper the sketch I propose to give of
this the most distinguished Englishman in our scientific annals prior to
the advent of his still greater namesake, the author of the “ Novum
Organon.”
HISTORY-TEACHING.
BY WILLIAM ROSSITER, F.R.G.S.
TTEMPTING to “get blood from a stone” has generally been
considered work in vain, and “ skinning flints ” is sometimes
described as unprofitable labour. The same truth is put
classically as “ ex nihilo, nihil fit" and also colloquially as
“ out of nothing, nothing comes.” I suppose most of us have felt the
truth of this, probably in more ways than one; but I think also that we
teachers, especially teachers of English, suffer frequently from this law,
without even realizing, fully, the cause of the failure of our work.
In teaching Latin or Greek, we never expect a pujpil to use a word
or a construction that has not been explained to him; nor do we look,
in teaching physical science or mathematics, for our pupils to know what
we have not taught them: yet, how frequently do we wish, rather than
hope, for our school-boys to write good English, and to compose narra
tives and essays, without first supplying them with the means of acquiring
the requisite knowledge or ability !
No subject is more frequently chosen for “composition” than
history; and what materials do we give the minds of the “ composers ?”
Generally, compilations of historical facts—frequently admirable as con
taining in a few hundred pages a resume of the facts of history, but
generally dry and barren for the purpose of instruction, giving school
boys nothing but a stereotyped list of names and-dates, summing up a
reign in a chapter, a campaign in half a page, a character in three lines,
and this generally in language the most general and comprehensive pos
sible, and therefore the most difficult for a boy to comprehend.
As a step towards remedying this evil—and a very great step it is—
we have school-books which are not compilations, but extracts from good
authors. These are exceedingly useful, so far as they can be useful, but
they do not satisfy the want I am endeavouring to describe, the want on
the part of school-boys of a sufficient familiarity with facts to know what
to say, and with good English to be able to say it.
�History- Teaching.
5
The very excellence of the extracts is one great cause of this. An
extract from Hallam or Macaulay is nourishment to a mind familiar with
the names and things spoken of; but to one who knows but little of the
facts, and comprehends, and that but imperfectly, but few of the allusions,
an extract from a philosophical author is but a delusion and a mockery,
except for the purpose of accustoming the mind, to expressions which it
may one day understand and know how to value.
There may be much difference of opinion as to the extent of this
“want” on the part of our scholars, there will probably be even more as
to the best means of supplying it, if admitted to be existing. The means
I have adopted is to use, as reading-books, historical novels and plays.
For example, in the study of the Plantagenet period, we have read
“Ivanhoe,” “King John,” and “Richard II.” I don’t mean -selec
tions, but the whole book in each case, taking care to remember that
we were reading “fiction” and not “fact,” but on the whole en
joying the graphic descriptions of the novelist or poet somewhat
more than we should the correct statement of carefully compiled facts,
and, it is to be hoped, educating our hearts as well as our minds, by
learning that “history” does not mean a list of battles, treaties, and
persecutions, but a record of the lives of men and women by whose
struggles, successes, and failures, we may learn to guide ourselves.
Probably our plan may call forth objections on many different
grounds. If so, I will try to be guided by them, and if I can to meet
them. Practically, at examinations, instead of some boys sitting chew
ing their pens, wondering what they shall say, I find every one complain
that the time was not half long enough.
Industrial and Reformatory Schools for the County of
Kent.—The Justices of Kent have resolved to avail themselves of the
provisions of the Industrial Schools Act and the Reformatory Schools
Act passed last session. At a meeting of magistrates held in January,
a committee was appointed to consider the expediency of the court
taking action under these Acts, and their report was presented- at a
court of general session, held on Thursday, 19th March. The com
mittee were of opinion that it was desirable that the system of indus
trial schools should be put into operation in the county. They recom
mended that, in the first instance, suitable buildings, with land attached,
should, if practicable, be hired for this purpose; but that, failing this,
the court should erect one house for boys and another for girls, each
house to be capable of accommodating about 50 children. With refer
ence to the’reformatory schools, the committee recommended that the
court adopt the provision of the 27th section of the Act 29th and 30th
Viet. cap. 117, by making contracts with the managers of the Reforma
tory School at Redhill, or any similar institution for the reception of
boys and girls respectively. The court unanimously adopted the above
recommendations, and notice was ordered to be given that at a subse
quent session the justices would proceed to make a contribution out of
the county rate for such purposes.
�6
ON THE CULTIVATION OF THE MEMORY.
"
BY S. E. EENGOUGH.
AN possesses three primary intellectual faculties, imagination,
memory, and reason. Reason is the monarch, which every
other portion of his nature was created to obey: but the
character and extent of the sway exercised by this kingly attri
bute over the realm of mind depends upon the harmonious action of its
two subordinates, the imagination and the memory. If imagination does
not impart creative life to every province of science in which reason
claims to exercise a judicial function, if memory does not retain its stores
of knowledge in readiness for service at a moment’s notice, reason
expends its energies in vain, and, exhausted by fruitless efforts, too
often becomes the deluded and willing slave of sense and appetite. In
plain terms, the prerogatives of reason can only be maintained by the
judicious culture of the other faculties. Yet any systematic discipline of
the imagination has hitherto had little place in schemes of education,
while it has been the custom to tax unduly the powers of memory with
out the slightest regard to the laws which regulate its action. The time,
we trust, is not far distant when education will be based on rational
principles; when the nature of the human mind, and the processes by
which alone it can be normally developed, will be studied with no less
care than that at present bestowed by the agriculturist on the com
position of soils and the chemical elements of the crops which they are
required to bear.
Youth is the seed-time of our life, and the mind cannot be expected
to produce a harvest useful and rich in quality, and beautiful in form,
unless the germs of future intelligence be early implanted within the
memory. It is a manifest duty, therefore, of all engaged in education to
analyze carefully the constitution of this faculty, and to become ac
quainted with any methods by which the treasures committed to it may
be preserved from perishing. Every individual possesses two almost
distinct kinds of memory, one of which is for the most part under the
control of the will, and is more properly termed recollection; the other
is the passive recipient of impressions conveyed to it through the medium
of the senses. The efficiency of this latter faculty depends mainly on the
possessor’s physical constitution, bent of character, and habits of life, and
is only susceptible of a limited measure of improvement. It is far ptherwise with the recollection, which is subject to volition, and the capabili
ties of which may be increased to an indefinite extent. With this
portion of memory the educator is of course chiefly concerned, and the
failure of attempts to impart information to the young generally arises
from inattention to the laws on which the power of recollection depends.
These are referable to the two heads of association and attention.
The principle of association of ideas may be described as the ten
dency of two or more facts or conceptions, which have been con
templated together or in immediate succession, to become so connected
that one of them at a future time recalls the other, or introduces a train
of thoughts which follow each other in the order in which they were
�Ou the Cultivation of the Memory.
7
originally associated. The causes or conditions of this association of
■ideas are threefold—resemblance or contrast, contiguity in time or place,
■cause and effect. On these principles, then, one thought may suggest
or recall another, which has some relation to it in either of these respects.
The success of the teacher or student in educating and strengthening
the powers of recollection is mainly dependent on the judgment with
which he seizes upon the associations best adapted to insure a lasting
connection between some new fact, which it is desired to imprint upon
the memory, and some other idea, which already exists within the mind.
Now, whether the associations in any particular case should be strictly
logical, local, or merely accidental and arbitrary, must be decided, not only
by the subject matter to be remembered, but also by the mind and
circumstances of -the pupil. Associations, for example, of the strongest
and most serviceable kind for one who had always lived in a city would
be weak and almost unintelligible to a person brought up in the country,
and w? versa. As a general rule, an association should be natural and
rational, should be calculated to quicken the attention by exciting interest,
and should be of intrinsic value, and add to the stock of information at
the same time that it furnishes assistance to the memory.
li Every fresh fact or idea,” it has been truly said, “ should be put by
in its proper place in the mind—that is to say, the new fact or idea
■should be associated with its proper class of facts or ideas already
existing in the mind. A general principle gives the key to the remem
brance of a whole series of facts or events. Physical facts are best
remembered through a knowledge of their general law, effects through a
knowledge of their cause, and results through a knowledge of the general
principles upon which they depend.”
The unwillingness which every intelligent teacher must feel to en
courage his pupils to form frivolous and unnatural, and therefore neces
sarily transient associations, will always prevent artificial aids to memory
from occupying any but a very subordinate place in education. But a
good mnemonical system has its use, and, if properly applied, would save
a vast amount of time and labour. There are many things which it is
necessary to remember, and which are incapable of rational association,
.such as statistics of every sort, unconnected events and lists of names.
How much of the mental energy of children is wasted in the vain attempt
to engrave upon the memory by wearisome repetition such items of
information, which might be mastered more effectually in one tenth of
the time by the aid of mnemonical association !
A striking instance of what may be done in this way is afforded by
Mr. Stokes’s ingenious method of teaching the multiplication table, by
means of which—incredible as the statement may appear—a child of
ordinary capacity may be made perfectly familiar with that formidable
task in a single hour. This great boon to infancy has now been intro
duced into the chief national schools of Glasgow, the masters of which,
fifteen in number, have signed a testimonial to its efficiency. Mr. Stokes
is certainly at the head of all mnemonical professors. Having spent
much time over different systems of artificial memory, we feel able to
-assert with confidence, that the mnemonical key which he places in the
�8
On the Cultivation of the Memory.
hands of his pupils combines in itself the advantages shared among all
other systems, and we strongly recommend it to any one preparing for a
competitive examination.
We have next to consider the surest method of quickening the
attention, the importance of which arises from memory being often the
result of the complex action of several senses. There is, so to speak, a
muscular memory, or involuntary movement, the result of habit and
suggestion—and a memory of the tongue, the eye, and ear, as well • as
reason. If each of these memories can be brought to bear simul
taneously on the same object, an indelible impression is commonly pro
duced. And this is not so difficult as might be supposed. We are
acquainted with an accomplished German linguist who has availed him
self of this principle in teaching language with astonishing success.
Appealing to the eye by written words, to the ear by clear and forcible
enunciation, and quickening the attention by always obliging his pupils
“ to suit the action to the word, and the word to the action,” he under
takes to impart a conversational facility in French or German within a
few weeks. To the simultaneous appeal made to eye, ear, and reason,
we must attribute the success of the Pestalozzian system of instruction,
which is especially adapted to infancy, when the activity of the powers
of observation, as contrasted with those of reflection, clearly indicates
that the senses are the chief channels by which knowledge should reach
the mind. To us it seems scarcely credible, that fifty years ago geo
graphy was commonly taught without an atlas. Fifty years hence, it
may seem equally astounding, that the minds of children of seven years
old and upwards should be nourished, or rather starved, as they generally
are at present, on a diet of grammatical abstractions never fully under
stood until the reason is matured.
Lastly, it is obvious that nothing quickens the attention so much aspleasurable interest. That which is learned unwillingly never sinks deep
in the memory ; and school tasks are too often rendered unnecessarily
irksome and distasteful. We believe there are very few children who, if
taught judiciously, would not take delight in their school books, instead
of listlessly dogearing their leaves, or moistening them with their tears..
It is needless to add, that when a lesson is learned con amorext is learned
in half the time, and the mind receives on a sensitive surface a perma
nent impression.
The Number of Candidates for Examination at the Train
Colleges.—By a return just issued, it appears that the number of
candidates who presented themselves for examination at the training
colleges at Christmas, 1866, was 1614, against 1555 at the previous
Christmas, of whom 1207 passed their examination, against 1306 at the
previous Christmas. The number of those who entered the training
colleges in January, 1867, was 1121, against 1215 in January, 1866, and
the number of pupil teachers apprenticed in 1866 was 3070, against
2631 in the previous year.
ing
�9
THE USE OF CYCLOPAEDIAS
*
BY VERNON LUSHINGTON, ESQ., B.C.L.
HE English Cyclopaedia consists of eleven great volumes, twodevoted to geography, three to biography, two to natural
history, and four to arts and sciences. No critic can pretend
to have read it, but only to have read in it; all, however.,
speak highly, most highly, in its praise. Its peculiar merits seem to
consist in its convenient divisions, and a large degree of completeness,
combined with a very moderate price. I have hardly done more than
look into the Biography and Geography, but with very great satisfaction;
reading descriptions of strange places I have visited, and life-stories of
memorable men now passed away or still living.
Perhaps the first sensation of the reader on opening these massive
volumes will be one of bewilderment, and unwillingness to traverse any
such vast mountain of knowledge. But on better consideration he will
feel two things; first, that kind of reverence which the spectacle of any
great human labour cannot but call forth; and secondly, that this (or
indeed any) Cyclopaedia is a witness to the inexhaustible interest of
reality and simple truth. He will see that it is in fact a record of a
thousand thousand conquests over thick night, won in many generations
by a far-reaching industry, and patient intelligence, in many cases even
—say the discovery of America—by downright unmistakable valour:
and so gazing on these columns, there may come flashing through his
mind something of the exultation with which a people greets a victorious
army returning homeward. At least he cannot but observe how the
age in which we live is assiduously minding and doing her business;
everywhere extending and consolidating positive knowledge; with honest
sober eyes scrutinizing the past of human history, studying the starry
heavens, the solid earth, and all living things, tracking everywhere the
dominion of steadfast laws, then recording what is found, for ourselves
and for those who come after. A Cyclopaedia witnesses that all these
things are being done.
But let not the reader stop here ! Admiration is good, but not
barren admiration. Let the book be really used. A great dictionary
of this. kind, if -within easy reach, should be constantly appealed to.
There is no study, no reading, which does not involve local conditions,
the. history of particular men, the growth of successive efforts, and a
variety of other matters which it is well to know, sometimes even indis
pensable to know, if we would rightly understand the subject in hand.
It is here that a Cyclopaedia, the design of which we owe mainly to the
great Frenchmen of the last century, may be of real service to the indi
vidual student. It is “ a teaching all round,” a catalogued summary of
all knowledge. Under the names of particular men and places, it posts
up such information as ordinary inquirers seek for concerning them;
* “The English Cyclopaedia,” conducted by Charles Knight.
Evans.
London: Bradburv and'
�IO
S
The Use of Cyclopaedias.
under the titles of subjects or things, it gives short popular treatises,
popular in the right sense, which relate the history, and describe the
scope of the special matter, whatever it may be: the essence of a good
Cyclopaedia being, as already suggested, that the information shall be
easily found, and when found, shall be accurate, clear, and, so far as it
goes, sufficient. Thus a Cyclopaedia is a condensed library; which omits,
of course, a whole world of truth and beauty that lies in the works of
original authors, yet guides us to them, in some measure gives us their
results, or at least announces them: it contains also much that is not to
be found elsewhere. There might be worse desultory reading than in
this big book; but its true use is to promptly supplement or animate
our study of this or that subject, which we are otherwise steadily pur
suing ; to make our knowledge sure, precise; a thing of great importance.
Therefore, when in doubt, look !
To take the biographical volumes, for instance. What interest to
those who are studying mathematics or drawing, to look up the biography
•of Euclid or Titian ; to our students of Latin, to find a life of Ctesar or
Horace or Cicero ready at hand, with some reasonable criticism of their
work as a whole; to our lovers of music, to read what follows under the
names of Beethoven, Mozart, Rossini! Again, students of the physical
sciences will often here find a helper at hand to solve some pressing
doubt: often, also, they are discouraged from attacking scientific books
{even if accessible) by their bulk and complexity; in this Cyclopaedia
they will find numerous articles contributed by distinguished professors,
short and readable, yet thoroughly trustworthy, which may send them
instructed and refreshed on their way. Again, to every thoughtful man
the history of his own occupation and its processes presents peculiar
interest: a banker’s clerk may rightly wish to learn something of the
history of banking; a wool-spinner to learn where the wool comes from,
and how his beautiful machinery has been produced; an engineer to
read of the labours of Watt and Stephenson, and so on. .All such
matters are very conveniently studied in a Cyclopaedia. Again, for we
must not pass over the two noble geographical volumes; our home, the
city or town in which we live, the country round about, the places we
visit in our holidays—these we cannot know too much of, and here
again the Cyclopaedia will be our friend.
These slender indications must suffice. It will be observed that a
Cyclopaedia does not dispense with ordinary text-books, and ordinary
steady work, still less with poetry and art, and all that supreme class of
human utterances which speak directly to the heart of man; but it has
a use of its own for every class of students. As such it well deserves a
place in every student’s library.
This notice should not pass without a grateful tribute to Mr. Charles
Knight himself. He is not the publisher, but the “ conductor ” of this
Cyclopaedia, the publishing part being undertaken by the firm of Brad
bury and Evans : they also deserve our thanks, for they take upon them
selves a heavy money-risk which can only be rewarded in many years.
Mr. Knight’s publishing days seem now over. He began his career at
.a time when books were printed for the rich few: he was the first of
�The Use of Cyclopcedias.
II
British publishers who dedicated themselves to the people. He has
since been followed by many: new readers have produced new pub
lishers, and these again new readers; and so the good work goes on.
But Mr. Knight has the credit of leading the way; he was the first man;
he threw his bread upon the waters. The object of his life has been to
bring to the numerous humbler classes sterling English literature and
solid information on national and every-day subjects. We cannot
remember the first appearance of the “ Penny Magazine,” but it still
.gives pleasure in many a cottage, and in its day it wrought great things.
Since then, Mr. Knight (whose own name is modestly omitted from the
biographies) has brought out good volume upon volume, good series upon
series; himself an author of considerable note, the writer of a history of
England and many other books; and what is an especial claim of
honour, he has done more, as editor and publisher, than any other
Englishman for the name and fame and large use of Shakspere.
One day his own name will appear in this book, and all his labours
be duly chronicled; and he will then show well worthy of comparison
with the illustrious family of the Etiennes, more commonly known by
the Latin name of Stephens, the celebrated printers of the sixteenth
century, whose lives I have been reading (for the first time) among the
biographies. They dwelt in Paris and Geneva, patronized, in the
ancient worthy sense, by princes and wealthy merchants, by Francis I.
and Henry III. of France, by the State Council of Geneva, by the
munificent Fuggers of Augsburg; and, on the other hand, persecuted
and hindered (not very seriously, however) by Catholic prelates. There
they produced grand “ Dictionariums ” of Greek and Latin, editions of
Greek and Latin authors, editions of the Bible, and theological works;
writing and printing for the scholars of Europe. What could be done
for letters in those days they did, and excellently well. The same noble
enterprise and unwearied industry has marked the career of our English
printer in the nineteenth century, in his labours to give to the people of
England English secular literature. And here Mr. Knight stands as the
representative of the latest—may we also say, in promise the highest ?—
effort of the English printing-press. What a contrast, what a progress
between the sacred missal, written by one hand, and tenderly illuminated
for the delight of a few high-born eyes, and these stout volumes of secular
lore, printed and stereotyped for the service of the million ! Something
may be lost, but how great the gain ! Worthy of a “ Hymn of Praise,”
such as Mendelssohn actually wrote in honour of Gutemberg, the first
printer’s anniversary day.
At the same time, this is true and most true—that life is a thousand
fold more than books; and especially that no man can live upon a
Cyclopaedia. And the service which positive knowledge has to render
is but begun. It has yet to make itself felt as a disciplined orderly whole;
to deal with far higher subjects (a real political economy, for instance);
and to do what no Cyclopaedia can do—fashion a methodic education,
and reach, in a living form, the great multitude of men. What is espe
cially needed, is that the modern mind should be able to unite itself
wholly with the past; should be able to rise above details—in history
�I
12
The Use of Cyclopaedias.
above chronicles, in science above specialities, in life above professional
subtleties; not despising or neglecting these, but subordinating them;
should comprehend the relations of the great provinces of knowledge to
each other, their office to the individual mind and the social life of men.
This seems a gigantic task, almost an impossible one, and, indeed, to
the first undertaker it is a work of the first order of magnitude; but the
thing once done or truly conceived, practical success is ultimately cer
tain, and every step gained will wonderfully simplify and illuminate all
our conceptions. A right education will, then, aim at communicating
this ascertained order as the basis of all knowledge. But for.this pur
pose a Cyclopsedia is not the instrument. To the philosopher it is but a
quarry of materials, to us it is and must remain only a discoursing dic
tionary. Such thoughts are naturally suggested by the spectacle of this
vast accumulation of knowledge ; and the question which will be asked,
Whither is it all tending? And if, with such great issues before us,
involving inevitable large changes of opinion and practice, we cannot
but look with anxiety to the future, sincerity tells us we must on, and is
full of noble hope withal. In the early times of maritime discovery,
there was an African cape, called Bojador, or the “ Outstretcher,”
which the navigator dared not pass; and rumour said that those who
went beyond would become black men. The cape was passed, and the
outward figure of the world made known; but the bold Portuguese did
not become black !
To go back to Francis I. and the Stephens. Francis, whose face you
may read in Holbein’s portrait of him in Hampton Court, had faults
enough, and an intriguing, warring life with the Emperor Charles V. and
even our Henry VIII.; but he had a genuine love of having gifted men
of peace working about him. Thus Andrea del Sarto, “ the faultless
painter ” (of Browning’s admirable poem), the knave also for once, who
ran away to Florence with the King’s money, describes his former joy
“In that humane great monarch’s golden look,—
One finger in his beard or twisted curl
Over his mouth’s good mark that made the smile,
One arm about my shoulder, round my neck,
The jingle of his gold chain in my ear,
I painting proudly with his breath on me.’
And so it is told how Francis would often visit Robert Stephens in his
printing-house, and might be seen silently watching him finish his proof
before he started upon familiar talk. The English people cannot so
visit Mr. Knight; they are not kings at all; they can but buy Mr.
Knight’s books or read them, which is what Mr. Knight desires. But
many and many a man unknown to him bears him silent gratitude, and,
hereafter, a poor English student asking, “ How came these good books
to me ?” may have for answer, “ By the faithful work of many men;
among the foremost, the worthy English printer, publisher, editor, and
author, Charles Knight.” And so we heartily congratulate him on this
his great work.
�i3
ON TEACHING CHEMISTRY IN SCHOOLS.
BY W. H. WALENN, F.C.S.,
Compiler of Abridgments of Specifications relating to “Electricity and Magnetism,
their generation and applications,” “Photography,’ “Plating or coating metals with
metals,” etc., for the Commissioners of Patents.
HE reasons why chemical science has received so little atten
tion in schools maybe shortly stated under two heads
ist.
The belief that no practical good could be effected, in the
pupil’s mind, by adding to a curriculum already full to re
pletion, a science difficult in itself and only useful to those who intend
to make it the study and profession of their lives. 2nd. The very
general, but erroneous idea, that chemical science is difficult to teach,
more difficult to illustrate, and nearly impossible of experimental de
monstration by the pupils themselves.
In respect to the first point, Dr. W. A. Miller, F.R.S., Professor of
Chemistry in King’s College, London, at the meeting of the British
Association at Birmingham, in 1865, as President of the Chemical
Section, gave it as his deliberate opinion, that the methods of investi
gation employed in Chemistry entitle it to be regarded as an “ instru
ment in training the mind, and shaping the intellectual development of
the future.” After setting forth the difficulty which those whose edu
cation is based upon the linguistic system have to realize the magnitude
and true bearing of the power of the science, “and its educational
value,” he goes on to say that, “ Science is not merely to supply her
facts : she is to be employed to develop the powers of the mind, and
to discipline them for action. Hence it is of far more importance
to instil principles, and to cultivate precision in observation, in thought,
and in description, than it is to load the memory with mere facts, how
ever valuable. In short, the system of cramming is to be eschewed,
while the formation of habits of comparing, reasoning, and judging is
to be encouraged in every way.”
In respect to the second point, in answer to questions put by the
Select Committee of the House of Lords on the Public Schools Bill, in
1865, Dr. Sharpey, L.L.D., F.R.S., observes, that the elements of inor
ganic chemistry are well adapted to render instruction in physical
science exact and solid, “provided that instruction be carried on mainly
by practical lessons at which the pupils take part themselves in the ex
periments, and are permitted to handle and work with apparatus.” .
Apart from the weight which necessarily attaches itself to the opinions
of these celebrated men, we have no doubt that any well-informed
person who looks into the subject for himself will come to the same
conclusion, and that the introduction of Chemistry into schools is but a
question of time.
It is now acknowledged, on all sides, that when learning is imposed
as a duty only—as a task—that the progress of pupils therein is slow
compared with that which is made when their interest is excited. Of
�14
On Teaching Chemistry in Schools.
all sciences, Chemistry is the one most capable of exciting interest in
boys. . In order to do so, however, striking results must be presented
to their view, and, when they have sufficient facts in their minds, those
facts may be applied to analyzing the results and deducing further facts
from them; thus the development of the perceptive and of the rational
faculties goes hand in hand, and one faculty is made to assist the other
by action and re-action.
The labour of teaching is reduced, and the ability of the pupils is
further stimulated, if they are allowed to make such experiments them
selves as their progress in the subject warrants.
The method of teaching Chemistry may be by class books, followed
up by lectures, oral and written examinations, and by certain experi
ments made by the pupils themselves.
Class books’6 are very serviceable in the intervals between lectures;
their principal uses seem to be, laying the foundation of the mnemonics
of the subject, elucidating, by precept and example, the mathematical
principles of the science, and explaining, in proper sequence, the vari
ous processes that are necessary to the attainment of a given result.
They may either be employed to prepare the student for what will come
in the next experimental lecture, or to explain more fully the results
shown at the previous lecture, or (which is the most complete plan) to
clear up the points of the last, and to lay a foundation of theory for
the next lecture. In cases where only a small time can be allotted to
the subject, the class book may be made the text book of the lecture,
both in respect to the arrangement of the experiments and as to the
matter to be placed before the pupils.
Lectures afford the means of laying before the pupils, in a connected
view, the principles and practice of the subject, and many important
details of manipulation may be successfully explained, which would be
dry and trivial if written. Verifications of grand truths and the beauty
of certain results may be made manifest, also deductions may be drawn
from them which would scarcely appear warranted if merely read in a
book. Where experiments are not admissible, as in illustrating the
manufacture of iron, well marked and coloured diagrams of the furnacesand apparatus used are very suitable. Every boy should have a note
book (of ordinary copy-book size) so as to take notes of the points of each
lecture and sketches of the principal experiments and diagrams. At
the end of each lecture, it is a very salutary practice to give out certain
questions bearing upon the subject, to be answered in writing at the
next lecture, also to examine the boys orally upon the principles that
have been inculcated. A weekly examination or “ recapitulation” may
also take place with advantage.
The extent to which the pupils may be permitted to work out their
own experiments must depend very much upon the class of school and
upon the appliances at hand. That this can be done much more easily
than is generally thought possible, the author has endeavoured to de* One of the newest and best class books is ‘ ‘ Lessons in Elementary Chemistry : inor
ganic and organic,” by Henry E. Roscoe, B.A., F.R.S., Professor of Chemistry in Owen’s
College, Manchester. London : Macmillan and Co. 1867. Price 4s. 6d.
�On Teaching Chemistry in Schools.
15;
*
monstrate, but, in establishments that have a laboratory attached, the
pupils may readily work out most of the leading experiments to the
verge of organic chemistry.
In imparting instruction in Chemistry, as in any other subject, the
most important thing is to lay a good foundation. The great principlesof the science should be deeply impressed, both on the memory and on
the reason, at the beginning of the course, by repeated experiments, and
by constant reference to examples in common life so as to connect the
knowledge which is being imparted to that which already exists in the
pupil’s mind.
In the mnemonical part, every student should write out fairly in his.
note book and commit to memory good definitions of what the science
treats of, and of the terms used; the principal elements should also be
learnt by heart, together with their symbols and atomic weights. As the
chief laws of the subject are elucidated (by experiment or otherwise),
they should be placed in the said note book in a tabular form. By this
means, at the end of the course, each student has a complete annota
tion and memoria technicci written by himself, which he can therefore
more easily refer to than any other book.
In the rational part, the notes on the lectures themselves will furnish
abundant instances of the steps by which the discoveries of the science
were made, and of the rationale of well established processes and de
finite changes. All calculations of atomic weights, density of gases, &c.,
as well as the laws and systems of crystallography, and of nomenclature
and notation, come under this head, and afford good practice.
In the experimental part, it is also essential that lucid notes be taken,
and it will be found most successful in the end if the demonstrator or
teacher requires each boy to read over his notes to him before the
students are dismissed; this is important, because it will be found
that the experimental division of the subject clears up all points that
were previously obscure, and there often remains some debris that
require removal; also in interpreting the bearings and results of experi
ments, students necessarily require much guidance. All experiments
should form a connected series, and should elucidate brilliantly and.
pointedly some great truth, the only exception to the latter rule being
the exhibition of useful details of manipulation. Mere “ cookery book”
experiments (as the author has heard them called) such as “ How to
make green fire,” “ How to make mimic lightning,” &c., and all that
are isolated or have no immediate relation to the matter in hand, should,
generally speaking, be avoided.
The highest authorities upon the Science of Chemistry have given
their decided opinion that it should be taught according to the latest
theoretical views, and with as little as possible reference to theories that
rather form a matter of history than of present interest. For this reason
the. new nomenclature and notation should be adhered to throughout, in
their pure and simple form; the notation fully deserves this straight
forward treatment and this universal adoption, for it at once connects
* See ‘‘Little Experiments for Little Chemists,” by W. H. Walenn, F.C.S.
T. J. Allman, 463, Oxford Street. Price is.
London;
�■I 6
On Teaching Chemistry in Schools.
atomic weights with volumes and with specific heats; further assistance
to the unity of the science, as well as to its grasp of facts under a
minimum of general laws, is afforded by the adoption of the theory of
types in inorganic as well as in organic Chemistry, and the doctrines of
atomicity and saturation of combining power remove many difficulties
that have always been felt in the subject. The molecular and substitu
tion formulae that have lately come into general use, appear, in conjunc
tion with the above theoretical principles, to have brought the science
into a sufficiently stable condition to warrant the teaching of the latest
theories in a connected form/''
In conclusion, it appears scarcely possible that the conscientious and
enlightened preceptors of England will deny the entrance, into their
scholastic system, of a science which draws out so many of the latent,
but easily excited, faculties of the mind, and of outward application, as
Chemistry. Chemistry is the rallying point of other exact and experi
mental sciences, and its branches are many, reaching even to the
-celestial bodies.
LATIN FOR LADIES.
is only the other day that we were informed that the young
ladies who were examined by the roving Cambridge authorities
acquitted themselves eminently to the satisfaction of their
questioners. And now we learn that the preparations for the
•similar annual proceedings on the part of the University of Oxford are
completed, and that girls and boys alike, though not, we presume, in
company, are to be put through the examination process with due
severity and rigour. On the whole, it strikes us that this is about the
most astonishing of all the astonishing things which indicate the reality
of that social revolution which English society has for some time been
undergoing. That the old universities should send delegates all over the
country to examine the sons of the smaller gentry and the men of busi
ness was a sufficiently startling novelty. But that “the cloister” should
actually dispatch its missionaries to report upon the acquirements of the
sisters of these long-neglected boys is a proof that our fundamental ideas
as to what constitutes the perfection of the female character are radically
changed. Of course it is not to be doubted for a moment that no sen
timental gallantry has warped the judgment of the presiding examiners.
We cannot suppose that a Latin translation, or the solution of a quad
ratic equation, presented by blushing sixteen, would not be as accurately
estimated at its real value as the same performance sent up by an
ungainly boy. We accept, therefore, the figures by which the examiners
represent the amount of success attained by their fair students, and con* To preceptors the following work is a great boon, and is thoroughly exhaustive of the
subject:—“Elements of Chemistry, theoretical and practical,” by William Allen Miller,
M.D., L.L.D., &c., Professor of Chemistry in King’s College, London. Longman & Co.
3 vols. 3rd Ed. Price £2 17s.
�Latin for Ladies.
17
gratulate them on the delicacy and good sense which have led them to
abstain from publishing the individual names of the interesting postulants
for academic honours. We are quite satisfied with their report, and
it only remains for us to speculate, with no little curiosity, as to the prac
tical results which may be expected to follow from the success of this
wonderful scheme.
That the general character of women would be materially altered, and
altered for the better, by an improved education can hardly be doubted.
Setting aside the popular nonsense about the absolute identity of men’s
and women’s natural powers, it is certain that most of the defects which
men so often cast in the teeth of women are mainly due to the wretched
imitation of education which is all that is in the reach of the immense
majority of Englishwomen. If then they can be made to learn any
thing, or rather to study anything thoroughly, and to carry on their
studies beyond the period of mere girlhood, they must certainly acquire
in some considerable measure that accuracy of thought, that dislike for
rhetorical platitudes, that solidity and fairness of judgment, and that
soundness of critical taste, for which, as things now are, the gentler sex
is not, as a rule, highly distinguished. But it is the incidental conse
quences of the creation of a love for serious study among English girls
of the middle and upper classes which present the most curious subjects
for speculation. What will be its effect upon the “ matrimonial
market,” and upon the education of men? We do not ask whether it
will frighten away our ingenuous youth from offering their hands to
young ladies of whose acquirements they stand in awe and dread.
Possibly here and there some foolish man might abstain from making
pretensions to the companionship of a pretty girl, through dread of being
despised for his inability to extract the cube root and to discuss the
doctrine of the Greek subjunctive mood. But as it is, cases of clever
women marrying stupid husbands are quite numerous enough to reassure
us on this head. The question is not as to the marrying prospects of
stupid men, but as to the marrying inclinations of well-educated women
in general. And here there does seem a probability of a change. At
present, as we take it, it is the want of a definite interest in some work
or occupation of real moment which sets girls speculating about mar
riage at so early a period. It is not because she has a dread of being
an old maid, or is longing to be “ settled in life,” or is discontented
with her home, that the thoughts of a girl of eighteen or nineteen are
so often turned to matrimonial contingencies. It is rather because she
has no present object on which to expend her energies, and nothing to
work upon with a view to any permanent benefit. With boys and
young men it is the reverse. Life with them is very soon a reality,
without any necessity for an early marriage. Men, as a rule, do not
look forward to marrying until they are eight or ten years older than
girls are when they seriously contemplate it. Their business or their
profession, that profession being more or less the continuation of the
work of education itself, furnishes them with an object fortheir thoughts
and for the employment of their energies. But when the average girl
has gone through the wretched “ course of studies” prescribed by the
VOL. I.
2
�18
Latin for Ladies.
schoolmistress or the governess, all comes to an end, and the next'
thing is to be married, or, at any rate, to be engaged. Her education has
totally failed to awaken her interest in the subjects of men’s studies, and
to cultivate her natural faculties to such an extent as to make their
further cultivation and the acquisition of more knowledge a delight and
a necessity. If, then, this new movement succeeds in converting the
■education of girls from a sham into a reality, it -will follow that by hun
dreds and thousands they will be far less impatient for a “ settlement,”
-and will by common consent postpone by three or four years the re
cognised age at which girls may be expect to be mistresses of a home of
their own. Some people may regret the change, but others will wel
come the advent of the theory that a young woman of three-and-twenty
is more likely to be wise in her arrangements for her future life than a
.girl of eighteen or nineteen.
Then, as to the education of the brothers and expectant husbands of
these highly cultured girls. If we have to abandon the idea that the
life of a woman is to be inspired by feeling and the life of a man by
thought and knowledge, a man’s standard as to what is expected of him
self must be raised. Boys who habitually look down upon their sisters’
learning and capacities are pampered in their own idleness, and never
made, as they ought to be, to feel ashamed. At this time, with all our
-advances, the average amount of the real education of the faculties of
English boys, with occasional exceptions, is simply disgraceful, from the
Boys of Eton down to the boys of the humblest grammar-school. And
while Oxford and Cambridge examiners are scouring the country and
’decorating the young provincial prodigies with the title of A.A., the
university system itself is so bad that of those who take an ordinary
bachelor’s degree a very large number are allowed to spend two-thirds
of their time of residence in all but utter idleness, supplemented by six
months’ cram at the end, while the annual six months’ vacation time is
passed in pure, unmitigated amusement. But when the new order of
things reigns in all good households, new ideas will take possession of
the lads who now disport themselves so royally in their ignorance and
self-satisfaction. Shame will do what self-respect and a sense of duty
have failed to accomplish. And while the Oxford and Cambridge
examiners are indoctrinating their charming candidates for distinction in
the country, they will be preparing' for themselves a condemnation as
men incapable of controlling and teaching their own undergraduates.—
Pall Mau Gazette.
Cambridge Local Examinations.—The greatest number of suc
cessful candidates from any one school, at the late Cambridge Local
Examinations, was thirty-six from the Devon County School, West
Buckland, which for three years in succession has passed a greater num
ber than any other school. Thirteen of these were in honours, and five
were distinguished in particular subjects, among them being the first and
second in order of merit in the Senior English Section.
�19
A PLEA FOR THE ART OF READING ALOUD, AS A
BRANCH OF REGULAR SCHOOL EDUCATION.
BY CHARLES JOHN PLUMPTRE,
Lecturer on Public. Reading, King’s College, Evening Class Department. .
HERE is no complaint more general than the rarity of good
readers in all classes of society. About five or six years ago,
in consequence of a notification on the part of the late Bishop
of Rochester, that a certificate of competence as a reader would
be required in the case of candidates for ordination in his lordship’s
diocese, a general awakening to the importance of the subject seemed to
take place among clergy and laity, and for several weeks one could
hardly take up a newspaper, from “ The Times ” to the humblest pro
vincial journal, without seeing leading articles and letters on “ Clerical
Elocution.”
But no adequate practical result of any substantial and permanent
nature followed from all these discussions. It was an illustration of the
old proverb, “ Great cry but little wool.” Complaints teemed on all
sides, but there was little done to remedy the complaint. Several of
the ¿¿shops have, I. know, from that time advised young curates and
candidates for orders to take a regular course of instruction in the art of
public reading, from those whom they thought were competent, from
natural qualifications, education, position, and experience, to teach that
art. But beyond this nothing has been done, and the evil is nearly, if
not quite, as prominent and widely spread as ever.
What a very able writer says, under the signature of 11 Rhetor,” in a
letter to the editor of 11 The English Churchman,” dated October 3,
1861, may be reproduced now with as much truth as then. The laity
(he says towards the close of his letter!) complain, and most justly, of the
bad reading inflicted on them Sunday after Sunday. But how can it be
otherwise while the present system lasts ? Candidates for the ministry
have no proper instruction, either in the public schools or universities.
They enter on their professional duties with provincialisms and cockneyisms uncorrected, and read positively worse than many of their con
gregation. The varieties of professional incapacity are endless—the
mutterer, who swallows all his final syllables—the drawlev. who wearies
with his tediousness—the gabbler, who rushes through the service at
express speed—the preacher, who mistakes prayers for sermons—the
spouter, who mouths the prayers with the most painful affectation. All
these evils are the necessary consequences of the inadequate estimate of
the end in view, and the means to be employed for its attainment.
Some take half a dozen lessons, perhaps, from a strolling player, or trust
to one lecture on church reading, given by the examining chaplain at the
close of the examination for orders ! The only true mode is a regular
course of instruction under a judicious teacher, carried on during the
year which ought to be devoted to theological training, after taking the
ordinary degree. It rests with the bishops to secure this by insisting
on a certificate of attendance on such a course, and I hope the time is
2—2
�20
A Plea for the Art of Reading Aloud.
not far distant when a reform so urgently required will be effected by
the rulers of the Church.
A recent offer has been made by an anonymous benefactor, to found
an annual prize of /40, at the universities of Oxford and Cambridge,
for the encouragement of proficiency in the art of good reading, but, I
regret to say, has been declined by both universities, on the ground, I
believe, of the difficulty of carrying out the wishes of the donor by
adequate and systematic instruction at the universities, as well as by the
alleged difficulty of deciding who are, or are not, the best readers in
the competition for the prize. The rejection, and the ground of the
rejection, of this liberal offer, have excited much dissatisfaction in the
public mind, and the leading journals have expressed their opinions on
the subject in no very measured language, which I have no desire to
reproduce; but I cannot help thinking that what has been found to
work so well, and to be so easily carried out in London, may also be
introduced and flourish at Oxford and Cambridge.
At King’s College, London, there has existed for nearly twenty
years, a Lectureship of Public Reading and Speaking, most ably filled
now by my friend and colleague, the Rev. Alex. J. D. D’Orsey. On the
establishment of the Evening Class Department of King’s College, a
similar Lectureship was made part of its instruction, to which I had the
honour of being appointed last summer j and though my experience
does not date so far back as Mr. D’Orsey’s, I am enabled to confirm all
that he has said on the subject of public reading and speaking, in his
lecture at the Royal Institution and other places, and can bear witness
to the need for instruction in the art, as well as to the excellent results
that ‘in most cases quickly follow from a regular course of practical
training. Prizes and certificates of merit are given for excellence in
public reading and sp&aking in both the Day and Evening Departments
of King’s College; and my colleague and I have hitherto found no very
great difficulty in deciding to whom such prizes and certificates should
be awarded. Surely, then, what has so long been found practicable
here will be found practicable elsewhere.
The prevalence of bad reading, in one or other of its almost count
less forms, is too generally admitted to need any formal quotation from
writers or other authorities in support of such an assertion. Whence
does this fault proceed ? I believe, in general, from inattention in child
hood, and the almost total absence of any system of teaching in a scien
tific yet natural manner in our public and private schools. I should
prefer on this point taking the evidence of a most competent -witness in
regard to all that relates to educational matters—the Rev. Francis
Trench—rather than offer any remarks of my own. Mr. Trench, in a
lecture delivered at St. Martin’s Hall in 1854, and subsequently pub
lished, says:—
“I must confess I can recall nothing worse than ordinary school
reading and recitation (mark, I say ordinary, because I am well aware
there are some exceptions), whether in the institutions for the rich or for
the poor in our land. Many amongst us can remember very well the
method in which we ourselves said our scholastic lessons in our former
�A Plea for the Art of Reading Alorid.
21
days. Whether any improvement in this matter has of late taken place,
I am unable to say. I trust that it may be so; but at the public school
■where I myself was, and one, too, not inferior in repute to any in the land
—I mean Harrow—the utmost attainable speed in repetition was allowed,
a false key and monotonous delivery of the worst kind was never
corrected or rebuked, no attempt whatever was made to render, or to
keep, the utterance in harmony with the sense; and bad habits of
delivery were formed and allowed, in a manner almost too strange for
belief, and on which I can only now look back with exceeding surprise.
Nor do I conceive that the system was in the least better at other schools.
I cannot let them escape. For should the Etonian, or the Winchester,
Rugby, or Westminster man, or the representative of any other public
school, ask me what grounds I have for such a statement, my answer to
the challenge would be, that at college I had full means and opportunity
to judge from the reading of the students there. They were gathered
from all schools of distinction; and to any one hearing them it was
evident enough that the general delivery at other schools was by no
means superior to that which was allowed, and which prevailed at my
■own. A system this not only most objectionable, and most injurious at
the time even to a just impression of the sense of the passage read, but
also so lasting in its evil consequences, that many never are emancipated
■or escape from them. I say this advisedly; and even those who do
•escape often only escape after many years, and with no little difficulty.
Hence, I believe, originates much of the bad reading which we hear in
public worship. Hence, I believe, originates that monotonous cadence
and drawl, which is so adverse to the due expression by the reader, and
to the due comprehension by the hearer, of any passage read. The ear
may be lulled, but the mind is not reached ; at least, if reached, it is
-reached in spite of the readers’ bad tone and enunciation. And here I
quote the words of one who felt this evil very deeply, and laboured very
constantly for its removal, or, at least, its mitigation—the Rev. C.
Simeon. ‘ How often,’ said he, ‘ are the prayers of the Church spoiled,
and good sermons rendered uninteresting, by bad delivery on the part
of ministers.’ ”
Mr. Trench then proceeds to show in detail how the same lamen
table neglect of the art of reading aloud prevails equally in private
schools, from the highest to the lowest class, and calls attention to the
fact, that even at the time when he was speaking, so glaring was the evil
in our national schools that a circular letter had been sent from Her
Majesty’s Board of the Privy Council to the various inspectors of schools,
stating that “ complaints have been made to their lordships concerning
the very small degree of attention which reading (as part of elocution)
receives in elementary schools, and making it imperative to include an
exercise on the art of reading in the oral part of the next Christmas
examination at the training schools.”
I trust I have said enough to prove how general is the neglect of the
art of reading aloud in our public and private schools. The neglect is,
however, I am strongly disposed to believe, far greater in schools for
boys than“ in schools for girls. As far as my own experience goes, I
�22
A Plea for the Art of Reading Aloud.
know that in London and the suburbs, out of a hundred schools where
elocution is taught, at least three-fourths are ladies’ schools. Hence,
probably, may be found one reason why, as a rule, women read aloud
better than men.
But what is the cause of this admitted neglect of the art of reading
in so many schools and families ? Why is it that elocution has been of
late years so much disregarded as a part of education, and yet music,
singing, drawing, and other accomplishments, have all received their due
share of attention? One reason is, I believe, to be found in the fact that
this very word, elocution, has been made a bugbear of, and has frightened
away many from its study, through a completely erroneous interpretation
of its meaning and character. Do not many persons imagine that the
study of elocution must lead to a pompous, bombastic, stilted, or pedantic
style—a style in which the artificial reigns predominant over everything
that is simple and natural ? I can only say, if elocution meant anything
of the kind I should be the last man to advocate its adoption in schools
or anywhere else. If I am asked to define what I then mean by elocu
tion, I think I should answer—“ That which is the most effective
pronunciation that can be given to words when they are arranged into
sentences and form discourse.” In this, of course, I include the appro
priate inflections and modulations of the voice, the purity of its intona
tion, the clearness of articulation, and, when suitable to the occasion, the
accompaniments of expression of countenance and action. This art of
elocution, then, I may further define as that system of instruction which
enables us to pronounce written or extemporaneous composition with
proper energy, correctness, variety, and personal ease; or, in other
words, it is that style of delivery which not only expresses fully the sense
and the words so as to be thoroughly understood by the hearer, but at
the same time gives the sentence all the power, grace, melody, and
beauty of which it is susceptible.
Is it not strange, let me ask, when we reflect on the marvellous power
which spoken language has to excite the deepest feelings of our common
nature, that the cultivation of the art of speaking which onceTeceived
so much attention, should afterwards and for so long a time have been
almost completely neglected. We know what importance the ancient
orators of Greece and Rome attached to the study of rhetoric. The
prince of them all, Demosthenes, asserted that “Delivery” (under which
term is included everything that relates to the effective management of
voice, look, and gesture) is the first, the second, and the last element of
success in a speaker; and the great Roman orator (Cic. de Orat. lib. i.)
most truly remarks that “ address in speaking is highly ornamental and
useful in private as well as in public life.” And surely this is as true in
our own day as it was in his. For even, assuming that a youth has no
apparent prospect of debating in Parliament, of addressing judges or
juries at the Bar, or appealing on the most solemn and important topics
of all from the pulpit, does it therefore follow that he need bestow no
trouble in learning to speak his native language elegantly and effec
tively ? Will he never have occasion to read aloud in his family circle,
or to a company of friends, some leader from “ The Times ” or other
�A Plea for the Art of Reading Aloud.
newspaper, some chapter from a book, or some verses from a poem ?
And what a difference will there be in the effect produced upon thereader and upon his audience accordingly as this is done well or ill ?•
We are most of us in the present day accustomed to have our sons and
daughters taught dancing, drilling, or calisthenic exercises, that give
strength, flexibility, and elegance to the limbs—and very excellent areall such accomplishments in their way. But after all, the limbs are por
tions of our frames far less noble than the tongue; and yet, while no
gentleman who can afford it hesitates about expending time and money
in sending his son to the fencing, drilling, or dancing master, how few,
comparatively, send as systematically their children to the elocution
master, to be taught the full development of that which is the crowning
glory of man—the divine gift of speech.
I believe firmly that consumption, and many other diseases of the
respiratory organs, which carry off so many thousands amongst us, while
they are in the very spring-time of life, would be greatly lessened in
number, and prevented in development, if the art of reading aloud were
more generally and properly taught and practised. This is not mere
vague assertion. Let me call in support of my statement a high medical
authority, Sir Henry Holland. In Sir Henry Holland’s “Medical
Notes,” at p. 42.2, I read as follows
“ Might not more be done in practice towards the prevention of pul
monary disease, as well as for the general improvement of health by
expressly exercising the organs of respiration—that is by practising accord
ing to method those actions of the body through which the chest is in
part filled or emptied of air ? Though suggestions to this effect occur
in some of our best works on consumption, as well as in the writings of
certain continental physicians, they have hitherto had less than their due
influence, and the principle as such is comparatively little recognised,
or brought into general application. In truth, common usage takes for
the most part a directly opposite course; and under the notion or pre
text of quiet, seeks to repress all direct exercise of this important function
in those who are presumed to have any tendency to pulmonary dis
orders. ... As regards the modes of exercising the function of respi
ration, they should be various, to suit the varying powers and exigencies
of the patient. Reading aloud (clara lectio) is one of very ancient recom
mendation, the good effects of which are not limited to this object alone.
It might indeed be well were the practice of distinct recitation, such as.
implies a certain effort of the organs beyond that of mere ordinary speech,
■more generally used in early life, and continued as a habit, or regular
exercise, but especially by those whose chests are weak, and who cannot
sustain stronger exertions. Even singing may for the same reasons, beallowed in many of such cases, but within much narrower limits, and
under much more cautious notice of the effects than would be requisite
in reading. If such caution be duly used as to posture, articulation, and
the avoidance of all excess, these regular exercises of the voice may be ren
dered as salutary to the organs of respiration as they are agreeable in their
influence on the ordinary voice. The common course of education is much
at fault in this respect. If some small part of the time given to crowd
�24
A Pica for the Art of Reading Aloud.
ing facts on the mind not yet prepared to receive or retain them, were
employed in fashioning and improving the organs of speech under good
tuition, and with suitable subjects for recitation, both mind and body
would often gain materially by the substitution.”
I might quote opinions to precisely the same effect from the works
on consumption and other diseases of the respiratory organs, of Dr.
James Bright, Dr. Godwin Timms, Combe, Mayo, and other eminent
physicians and physiologists, but there is no need to multiply quotations;
suffice it to say that all these high medical authorities concur in the same
opinion, viz., that “reading aloud” is, when conducted on sound
principles, an exercise for the delicate and for the robust, as healthy
and strengthening to the body as it is pleasant and profitable to the
mind.
I am not without strong hope that the whole subject will, in course
of time, meet with the attention it so well deserves. It is now nearly
eight years ago since, with the sanction of the Vice-Chancellor, and the
approval of the Bishop of the diocese, I began my work as a lecturer and
teacher of elocution, in reference to professional and public life, at the
University of Oxford on the same day that my colleague, Mr. D’Orsey,
entered on a similar course at the university of Cambridge; and now we
are associated in the same work, though in different departments, at King’s
College. Our pupils have steadily increased, our services have been
called into requisition at many large schools in the provinces, as well as
in London,°jand I have every reason to believe that a growing interest
in the art of public reading and speaking has been manifested. I only
trust that this interest may extend to all classes—high and low, rich and
poor—and bear substantial and enduring fruit, in the shape of men and
women with sound and healthy lungs, pleasant and agreeably modulated
voices, and clear and effective enunciation.
! The Education Grant.—In the year ending March 31, 1866,
¿£622,730 was expended from the Parliamentary grant in aid of Edu
cation in Great Britain. The amount was thus distributed : In annual
grants to elementary schools in England and Wales, ¿£378,003 for day
scholars, and ¿£10,003 for evening scholars ; ¿£68,034 in annual grants
in Scotland ; ¿£21,040 in building grants ; ¿£69,935 in grants to train
ing colleges; ¿£685 in unexpired pensions ; ¿£75,03° in administration
and inspection. Classified according to the denominations of the re
cipients, the expenditure was as follows :—On schools connected with
the church of England, .£351,498; on schools connected with the
British and Foreign School Society, ¿£58,623 ; Wesleyan Schools,
¿£28,592 ; Roman Catholic Schools in England, ¿£26,084 ; parochial
union schools, ¿£120; schools in Scotland connected with the Es
tablished Church, ¿£46,465 ; the Free Church, ¿£29,297 ; the Episcopal
Church, ¿£4,019; Roman Catholic schools in Scotland, ¿£3,002. *
�25
JOHN STUART MILL ON THE VALUE OF THE ANCIENT
CLASSICAL LANGUAGES AND LITERATURE IN
EDUCATION.
From the Inaugural Address delivered to the University of St. Andrew’s, Feb. ist. 1867. >
NIVERSITIES do enough to facilitate the study of modern
languages, if they give a mastery over that ancient language
which is the foundation of most of them, and the possession
of which makes it easier to learn four or five of the conti
nental languages than it is to learn one of them without it. . . . .
The only languages, then, and the only literature, to which I would
allow a place in the ordinary curriculum, are those of the Greeks and
Romans ; and to these I would preserve the position in it which they
at present occupy. That position is justified, by the great value, in
education, of knowing well some other cultivated language and litera
ture than one’s own, and by the peculiar value of those particular lan
guages and literatures.
There is one purely intellectual benefit from a knowledge of lan
guages, which I am specially desirous to dwell on. Those who have
seriously reflected on the causes of human error, have been deeply im
pressed with the tendency of mankind to mistake words for things.
Without entering into the metaphysics of the subject, we know how
common it is to use words glibly and with apparent propriety, and to
accept them confidently when used by others, without ever having had
any distinct conception of the things denoted by them. To quote again
from Archbishop Whately, it is the habit of mankind to mistake fami
liarity for accurate knowledge. As we seldom think of asking the
meaning of what we see every day, so when our ears are used to the
sound of a word or a phrase, we do not suspect that it conveys no clear
idea to our minds, and that we should have the utmost difficulty in de
fining it, or expressing, in any other words, what we think we understand
by it. Now it is obvious in what manner this bad habit tends to be
corrected by the practice of translating with accuracy from one language
to another, and hunting out the meanings expressed in a vocabulary
with which we have not grown familiar by early and constant use. I
hardly know any greater proof of the extraordinary genius of the
Greeks, than that they were able to make such brilliant achievements in
abstract thought, knowing, as they generally did, no language but their
own. But the Greeks did not escape the effects of this deficiency.
Their greatest intellects, those who laid the foundation of philosophy
and of all our intellectual culture, Plato and Aristotle, are continually
led away by words ; mistaking the accidents of language for real rela
tions in nature, and supposing that things which have the same name in
the Greek tongue must be the same in their own essence. There is a
well-known saying of Hobbes, the far-reaching significance of which you
will more and more appreciate in proportion to the growth of your
own intellect: “ Words are the counters of wise men, but the money of
fools.” With the wise man a word stands for the fact which it repre-
�26
On the Value of the Ancient Classical Languages
sents; to the fool it is itself the fact. To carry on Hobbes’ metaphor,
the counter is far more likely to be taken for merely what it is, by those
who are in the habit of using many different kinds of counters. But
besides the advantage of possessing another cultivated language, there
is a further consideration equally important. Without knowing the lan
guage of a people, we never really know their thoughts, their feelings,
and their type of character: and unless we do possess this knowledge,
of some other people than ourselves, we remain, to the hour of our
death, with our intellects only half expanded. Look at a youth who has
never been out of his family circle: he never dreams of any other
opinions or ways of thinking than those he has been bred up in; or, if
he has heard of any such, attributes them to some moral defect, or in
feriority of nature or education. If his family are Tory, he cannot con
ceive the possibility of being a Liberal; if Liberal, of being a Tory.
What the notions and habits of a single family are to a boy who has had
no intercourse beyond it, the notions and habits of his own country are
to him who is ignorant of every other. Those notions and habits are to
him human nature itself; whatever varies from them is an unaccountable
aberration which he cannot mentally realize: the idea that any other
ways can be right, or as near an approach to right as some of his own,
is inconceivable to him. This does not merely close his eyes to the
many things which every country still has to learn from others : it hin
ders every country from reaching the improvement which it could other
wise attain by itself. We are not likely to correct any of our opinions
or mend any of our ways, unless we begin by conceiving that they are
capable of amendment: but merely to know that foreigners think differ
ently from ourselves, without understanding why they do so, or what
they really do think, does but confirm us in our self-conceit, and connect
our national vanity with the preservation of our own peculiarities. Im
provement consists in bringing our opinions into nearer agreement with
facts; and we shall not be likely to do this while we look at facts only
through glasses coloured by those very opinions. But since we cannot
divest ourselves of preconceived notions, there is no known means of
eliminating their influence but by frequently using the differently coloured
glasses of other people : and those of other nations, as the most different,
are the best.
But if it is so useful, on this account, to know the language and lite
rature Of any other cultivated and civilized people, the most valuable of
all to us in this respect are the languages and literature of the ancients.
No nations of modern and civilized Europe are so unlike one another,
as the Greeks and Romans are unlike all of us; yet without being, as
some remote Orientals are, so totally dissimilar, that the labour of a life
is required to enable us to understand them. Were this the only gain
to be derived from a knowledge of the ancients, it would already place
the study of them in a high rank among enlightening and liberalizing
pursuits. It is of no use saying that we may know them through mo
dern writing. We may know something of them in that way; which is
much better than knowing nothing. But modern books do notteach us
ancient thought; they teach us some modern writer’s notion of ancient
�and Literature in Education.
27
thought. Modern books do not show us the Greeks and Romans ; they
tell us some modern writer’s opinions about the Greeks and Romans.
Translations aré scarcely better. When we want really to know what a
person thinks or says, we seek it at first hand from himself. We do not
trust to another person’s impression of his meaning, given in another
person’s words; we refer to his own. Much more is it necessary to do
so when his words are in one language, and those of his reporter in
another. Modern phraseology never conveys the exact meaning of a
Greek writer; it cannot do so, except by a diffuse explanatory circum
locution which no translator dares use. We must be able, in a certain
degree, to think in Greek, if we would represent to ourselves how a
Greek thought: and this not only in the abstruse region of metaphysics,
but about the political, religious, and even domestic concerns of life. I
will mention a further aspect of this question, which, though I have not
the merit of originating it, I do not remember to have seen noticed in
any book. There is no part of our knowledge which it is more useful to
obtain at first hand—-to go to the fountain head for—than our knowledge
of history. Yet this, in most cases, we hardly ever do. Our concep
tion of the past is not drawn from its own records, but from books
written about it, containing not the facts, but a view of the facts which
has shaped itself in the mind of somebody of our own or a very recent
time. Such books are very instructive and valuable; they help us to
understand history, to interpret history, to draw just conclusions from
it; at the worst, they set us the example of trying to do all this ; but
they are not themselves history. The knowledge they give is upon
trust, and even when they have done their best, it is not only incom
plete, but partial, because confined to what a few modern writers have
seen in the materials, and have thought worth picking out from among
them. How little we learn of our own ancestors from Hume, or Hallam,
or Macaulay, compared with what we know if we add to what these tell
us, even a little reading of cotemporary authors and documents 1 The
most recent historians are so well aware of this, that they fill their pages
with extracts from the original materials, feeling that these extracts are
the real history, and their comments and thread of narrative are only
helps towards understanding it. Now it is part of the great worth to us
of our Greek and Latin studies, that in them we do read history in the
original sources. We are in actual contact with cotemporary minds; we
are not dependent on hearsay; we have something by which we can test
and check the representations and theories of modern historians. It
may be asked, why then not study the original materials of modem his
tory ? I answer, it is highly desirable to do so : and let me remark by
the way, that even this requires a dead language j nearly all the docu
ments prior to the Reformation, and many subsequent to it, being written
in Latin. But the exploration of these documents, though a most use
ful pursuit, cannot be a branch of education. Not to speak of their
vast.extent, and the fragmentary nature of each, the strongest reason is,
that in learning the spirit of our own past ages, until a comparatively
recent period, from cotemporary writers, we learn hardly anything else.
Those.authors, with a few exceptions, are little worth” reading on their
�28
On the Vctlne of the Ancient Classical Languages
own account. . While, in studying the great writers of antiquity, we are
not only learning to understand the ancient mind, but laying in a stock
of wise thought and observation, still valuable to ourselves; and at the
same time making ourselves familiar with a number of the most perfect
and finished literary compositions which the human mind has produced
—compositions which, from the altered conditions of human life, are
likely to be seldom paralleled, in their sustained excellence, by the times
to come.
Even as mere languages, no modern European language is so valuable
a discipline to the intellect as those of Greece and Rome, on account
of their regular and complicated structure. Consider, for a moment,
what grammar is. It is the most elementary part of logic. It is the
beginning of the analysis of the thinking process. The principles and
rules of grammar are the means by which the forms of language are
made to correspond with the universal forms of thought. The distinc
tions between the various parts of speech, between the cases of nouns,
the moods and tenses of verbs, the functions of particles, are distinc
tions in thought, not merely in words. Single nouns and verbs express
objects and events, many of which can be cognized by the senses : but
the modes of putting nouns and verbs together, express the relations of
objects and events, which can be cognized only by the intellect; and
each different mode corresponds to a different relation. The structure
of every sentence is a lesson in logic. The various rules of syntax
oblige us to distinguish between the subject and predicate of a propo
sition, between the agent, the action, and the thing acted upon; to mark
when an idea is intended to modify or qualify, or merely to unite with,
some other idea; what assertions are categorical, what only conditional;
whether the intention is to express similarity or contrast, to make a plu
rality of assertions conjunctively or disjunctively; what portions of a
sentence, though grammatically complete within themselves, are mere
members or subordinate parts of the assertion made by the entire sen
tence. Such things form the subject-matter of universal grammar; and
the languages which teach it best are those which have the most definite
rules, and which provide distinct forms for the greatest number of dis
tinctions in thought, so that if we fail to attend precisely and accurately
to any of these, we cannot avoid committing a solecism in language.
In these qualities the classical languages have an incomparable supe
riority over every modern language, and over all languages, dead or
living, which have a literature worth being generally studied.
But the superiority of the literature itself, for purposes of education,
is still more marked and decisive. Even in the substantial value of the
matter of which it is the vehicle, it is very far from having been super
seded. The discoveries of the ancients in science have been greatly
surpassed, and as much of them as is still valuable loses nothing by
being incorporated in modern treatises : but what does not so well admit
of being transferred bodily, and has been very imperfectly carried off
even piecemeal, is the treasure which they accumulated of what may be
called the wisdom of life: the rich store of experience of human nature
and conduct, which the acute and observing minds of those ages, aided
�and Literature in Education.
29
in their observations by the greater simplicity of manners and life, con
signed to their writings, and most of which retains all its value. The
speeches in Thucydides; the Rhetoric, Ethics, and Politics of Aristotle ;
the Dialogues of Plato; the Orations of Demosthenes; the Satires, and
especially the Epistles of Horace; all the writings of Tacitus; the great
work of Quintilian, a repertory of the best thoughts of the ancient world
on all subjects connected with education ; and, in a less formal manner,
all that is left to us of the ancient historians, orators, philosophers, and
even dramatists, are replete with remarks and maxims of singular good
sense and penetration, applicable both to political and to private life :
and the actual truths we find in them are even surpassed in value by the
encouragement and help they give us in the pursuit of truth. Human
invention has never produced anything so valuable in the way both of
Stimulation and of discipline to the inquiring intellect, as the dialectics
of the ancients, of which many of the works of Aristotle illustrate the
theory, and those of Plato exhibit the practice. No modern writings
come near to these, in teaching, both by precept and example, the way
to investigate truth, on those subjects, so vastly important to us, which
remain matters of controversy from the difficulty or impossibility of
bringing them to a direct experimental test. To question all things;
never to turn away from any difficulty: to accept no doctrine either from
ourselves or from other people without a rigid scrutiny by negative, criti
cism, letting no fallacy, or incoherence, or confusion of thought, slip by
unperceived; above all, to insist upon having the meaning of a word
clearly understood before using it, and the meaning of a proposition.be
fore assenting to it; these are the lessons we learn from the ancient
dialecticians. With all this vigorous management of the negative . ele
ment, they inspire no scepticism about the reality of truth, or indiffer
ence to its pursuit. The noblest enthusiasm, both for the search after
truth and for applying it to its highest uses, pervades these writers, Aris
totle no less than Plato, though Plato has incomparably the greater
power of imparting those feelings to others. In cultivating, therefore,
the ancient languages as our best literary education, we are all the while
laying an admirable foundation for ethical and philosophical culture. In
purely literary excellence—in perfection of form—the pre-eminence of
the ancients is not disputed. In every department which they at
tempted, and they attempted almost all, their composition, like their
sculpture, has been to the greatest modern artists an example to be
' looked up to with hopeless admiration, but of inappreciable value as a
light on high, guiding their own endeavours. In prose and in poetry,
in epic, lyric, or dramatic, as in historical, philosophical, and oratorical
art, the pinnacle on which they, stand is equally eminent. I am now
speaking of the form, the artistic perfection of treatment: for, as regards
substance, I consider modem poetry to be superior to ancient, in the
same manner, though in a less degree, as modern science : it enters
deeper into nature. The feelings of the modern mind are more various,
more complex and manifold, than those of the ancients ever were. The
modem mind is, what the ancient mind was not, brooding and self-con
scious ; and its meditative self-consciousness has discovered depths in
�30
Ou the Value of the Ancient Classical Languages
the human soul which the Greeks and Romans did not dream of, and
would not have understood. But what they had got to express’ they
expressed in a manner which few even of the greatest moderns’ have
seriously attempted to rival. It must be remembered that they had more
time, and that they wrote chiefly for a select class, possessed of leisure.
To us who write in a hurry for people who read in a hurry, the attempt
to give an equal degree of finish would be loss of time. But to be
familiar with perfect models is not the less important to us because the
element in which we work precludes even the effort to equal them.
They shew us at least what excellence is, and make us desire it, and
strive to get as near to it as is within our reach. And this is the value
to us of the ancient writers, all the more emphatically, because their
excellence does not admit of being copied, or directly imitated. It does
not consist in a trick which can be learnt, but in the perfect adaptation
of means to ends. The secret of the style of the great Greek and
Roman authors, is that it is the perfection of good sense. In the first
place, they never use a word -without a meaning, or a. word which adds
nothing to the meaning. They always (to begin with) had a meaning;
they knew what they wanted to say; and their whole purpose was to say
it with the highest degree of exactness and completeness, and bring it
home to the mind with the greatest possible clearness and vividness. It
never entered into their thoughts to conceive of a piece of writing as
beautiful in itself, abstractedly from what it had to express ; its beauty
must all be subservient to the most perfect expression of the sense. The
curiosa felicitas which their critics ascribed in a pre-eminent degree to
Horace, expresses the standard at which they all aimed. Their style is
exactly described by Swift’s definition, li the right words in the right
places.” Look at an oration of Demosthenes; there is nothing in it
which calls attention to itself as style at all: it is only after a close exa
mination we perceive that every word is what it should be, and where it
should be, to lead the hearer smoothly and imperceptibly into the state
of mind which the orator wishes to produce. The perfection of the
workmanship is only visible in the total absence of any blemish or fault,
and of anything which checks the flow of thought and feeling, anything
which even momentarily distracts the mind from the main purpose.
But then (as has been well said) it was not the object of Demosthenes
to make the Athenians cry out “ What a splendid speaker !” but to make
them say “ Let us march against Philip !” It was only in the decline of
ancient literature that ornament began to be cultivated merely as orna
ment. In the time of its maturity, not the merest epithet was put in
because it was thought beautiful in itself; not even for a merely descrip
tive purpose, for epithets purely descriptive were one of the corruptions
of style which abound in Lucan, for example : the word had no busi
ness there unless it brought out some feature which was wanted, and
helped to place the object in the light which the purpose of the com
position required. These conditions being complied with, then indeed
the intrinsic beauty of the means used was a source of additional effect,
of which it behoved them to avail themselves, like rhythm and melody
of versification. But these great writers knew that ornament for the
�and Literature in Education,
i
3*
sake, of ornament, ornament which attracts attention to itself, and shines
by its own beauties, only does so by calling off the mind from the main,
object, and thus not only interferes with the higher purpose of human
discourse, which ought, and generally professes, to have some matter to
communicate, apart from the mere excitement of the moment, but also
spoils the perfection of the composition as a piece of fine art, by de
stroying the unity of effect. This, then, is the first great lesson in com
position to be learnt from the classical authors. The second is., not to
be prolix. In a single paragraph, Thucydides can give a clear and vivid
representation of a battle, such as a reader who has once taken it into
his mind can seldom forget. The most powerful and affecting piece of
narrative, perhaps, in all historical literature, is the account of the
Sicilian catastrophe in his seventh book, yet how few pages does it fill 1
The ancients were concise, because of the extreme pains they took with
their compositions ; almost all modems are prolix, because they do not.
The great ancients could express a thought so perfectly in a few words
or sentences, that they did not need to add any more : the moderns, be
cause they cannot bring it out clearly and completely at once, return
again and again, heaping sentence upon sentence, each adding a little
more elucidation, in hopes that though no single sentence expresses the
full meaning, the whole together may give a sufficient notion of it. In
this respect, I am afraid we are growing worse instead of better, for want
of time and patience, and from the necessity we are in of addressing
almost all writings to a busy and imperfectly prepared public. The de
mands of modern life are such—the work to be done, the mass to be
worked upon, are so vast, that those who have anything particular to say
—who have, as the phrase goes, any message to deliver—cannot afford
to devote their time to the production of masterpieces. But they would
do far worse than they do, if there had never been masterpieces, or if
they had never known them. Early familiarity with the perfect makes
our most imperfect production far less bad than it otherwise would
be. To have a high standard of excellence often makes the whole
difference of rendering our work good when it would otherwise be
mediocre.
For all these reasons, I think it important to retain these two. lan
guages and literatures in the place they occupy, as a part of liberal edu
cation, that is, of the education of all who are not obliged by their
circumstances to discontinue their scholastic studies at a very early age.
But the same reasons which vindicate the place or classical studies in
general education, shew also the proper limitation, of them. They
should be carried as far as is sufficient to enable the pupil, in after life,
to read the great works of ancient literature with ease. Those who have,
leisure and inclination to make scholarship, or ancient history, or gene
ral philology, their pursuit, of course require much more; but there is
no room for more in general education. The laborious idleness in which
the school-time is wasted away in the English classical schools deserves
the severest reprehension. To what purpose should the most precious
years of early life be irreparably squandered in learning to write bad
Latin and Greek verses ? I do not see that we are much the better even
�32
Value of the Ancient Classical Langrtages and Literature.
for those who end by writing good ones. I am often tempted to ask the
favourites of nature and fortune, whether all the serious and important
work of the world is done, that their time and energy can be spared for
these nugce difficiles 1 I am not blind to the utility of composing in a
language, as a means of learning it accurately. I hardly know any
other means equally effectual. But why should not prose composition
suffice? What need is there of original composition at all? if that can
be called original which unfortunate schoolboys, without any thoughts to
express, hammer out on compulsion from mere memory, acquiring the
pernicious habit which a teacher should consider it one of his first duties
to repress, that of merely stringing together borrowed phrases ? The
exercise in composition, most suitable to the requirements of learners, is
that most valuable one, of retranslating from translated passages of a
good author: and to this might be. added, what still exists in many Con
tinental places of education, occasional practice in talking Latin. There
would be something to be said for the time spent in the manufacture of
verses, if such practice were necessary for the enjoyment of ancient
poetry; though it would be better to lose that enjoyment than to pur
chase it at so extravagant a price. But the beauties of a great poet
would be a far poorer thing than they are, if they only impressed us
through a knowledge of the technicalities of his art. The poet needed
those technicalities : they are not necessary to us. They are essential
for criticising a poem, but not for enjoying it. All that is wanted is suf
ficient familiarity with the language, for its meaning to reach us without
any sense of effort, and clothed with the associations on which the poet
counted for producing his effect. Whoever has this familiarity, and a
practised ear, can have as keen a relish of the music of Virgil and
Horace, as of Gray or Bums, or Shelley, though he know not the me
trical rules of a common Sapphic or Alcaic. I do not say that these
rules ought not to be taught, but I would have a class apart for them,
and would make the appropriate exercises an optional, not a compulsory
part of the school teaching.
Science and Art Department,—Nero Minute. — My Lords have
promulgated a new Minute to the effect, that every student in the future
who obtains a first or second class position in the May examination, in
any science subject, may teach, and earn the payments or results, a pri
vilege hitherto confined to certificated teachers. The teachers’ exami
nations for certificates in November are to be abolished. This action
of the Committee of Council assimilates, in this particular, the relation
of science teachers with the lately modified relation of the art teachers
to the Department
"
�33
THE SUPPLEMENTARY MINUTE OF THE REVISED CODE.
BY J. STUART LAURIE, FORMERLY H. M. INSPECTOR OF SCHOOLS.
HE reception accorded to the Revised Code four years ago is
still fresh in the memory of every one interested in the ques
tion of popular education. Educational bodies viewed, with
an alarm that amounted almost to a panic, the threatened
demolition of what they had been accustomed for a quarter of a century
to regard as the bulwarks of the system. But all protest was in vain;
and the representatives of the people sanctioned and ratified the official
proposals. Indiscriminate building grants to Primary,’and various grants
to Training, schools were cancelled; pupil-teachers could no longer
claim the enviable title of “pampered recipients of State bounty;”
teachers were constrained to relinquish, suddenly and unexpectedly,
their “ vested interests,” in the shape of the money-value which thencertificates variously represented; and annual grants henceforth took
the simple form of 4s. per head on the average attendance, and 2s. 8d.
per pass in the three fundamental branches of knowledge, Reading,
Writing, wiA Arithmetic. This was aptly termed, “payment for results”
and the practical ring of the phrase doubtless contributed largely to the
success of the measure. The gross result shows an annual “ saving ”
of no less than ^400,000, together with, in Mr. Lowe’s opinion, “in
creased efficiency,” into the bargain 1
But the permanency of that orator’s notable triumph was ever liable
to be endangered by a grave omission in his subversive system of tactics.
He omitted to include Her Majesty’s Inspectors in his taboo. He had at
hand a sufficiently feasible and ready-made plea for their abolition, too ;
seeing that the occupation of those gentlemen was, in a dignified pro
fessional -sense, clearly gone ; while the proposal would have been ably
■seconded by personal predilections, if one may draw an inference
from various acts of scant courtesy, and a uniformly supercilious bearing.
From whatever cause, H. M. Inspectors remained in the field, empowered
to report progress to two successive chiefs, neither of whom was above
lending an ear to deliberate representations, based on the results of
arduous experience acquired at the Queen’s expense.
Excellent a beginning to a scheme of national education as the
Revised Code would unquestionably have been, and admirably fitted as
it even, still is, as a groundwork for a noble superstructure, it has been
ascertained that, as a practical measure, it is capable of improvement:
that, for example (r), small schools—generally the most needy section—
derive but a meagre proportion of pecuniary benefit from the new form
of |rant; that (2), the rate at which pupil teachers are everywhere
diminishing forbodes the steady decay of that key-stone of the system ;
and that (3),the higher, non-paying subjects, such as Geography, Grammar,
and History, are vanishing, or have already vanished, from the common
routine of instruction. With a praiseworthy unanimity, the late VicePresident of the present, and the previous Vice-President of the late,
Government have combined their efforts to supply, at the trifling cost
vol. 1.
3
�34
The Supplementary Minute of the Revised Code.
of
ooo, remedies for the defects alluded to; and, what may be
styled, their joint plan has taken the form of a Supplementary Minute.
*
The title of the new Minute, and Mr. Corry’s early assurance that it
“ did not cancel a single article of the Revised Code]' ought, in all
reason, to have satisfied Mr. Lowe that the latter measure was not
about to be “tinkered” and “tampered with;” and it is therefore
hoped that his menace of “ a speedy and well-merited extinction of the
whole system,” will graciously be allowed to remain in abeyance, until
the country is ripe for a comprehensive, and emphatically national
scheme.
The heads of the Supplementary Minute are briefly as follow:—
I. The payment per pass in reading, writing and arithmetic, respec
tively, is raised from 2s. 8d. to 4s.—up to the maximum of 120 passes;
all in excess of that number being rated as formerly, at 2s. 8d.
The conditions annexed to this additional grant of
are («), that for
all scholars above 25 there be an apprentice for every 40, or an assistant
for every 80 in average attendance; (¿), that the number of passes exceed
200 per cent, of the annual average over six years of age, and, further,
that one fifth part of the whole number of passes fall under Standardsiv. to vi.; and (c), that at least one-fifth of the average over six years of
age pass a satisfactory examination in any specific subject or subjects;
scholars who have already passed in Standard vi. being, on the same
condition, entitled to claim a repetition of the grant.
II. In reference to condition («), the new Minute offers a distinct
aid towards its fulfilment, by means of a prospective bonus to schools of
¿10 and fs respectively, for every male apprentice admitted into a
training school in the first and second class; and the same schools are
further entitled to participate in the success of their former apprentices,
at the rate of
and ¿5 respectively, according to their rank in the
annual students’ examinations.
While no doubt can be entertained of the practical judiciousness of
these provisions, and of their fitness to dovetail into the structure of the
Revised Code, it remains to be seen whether much material advantage will
accrue to the smaller schools, shackled as they are by a too heavy
expenditure, and deplorable irregularity in the attendance ; and whether
the indirect inducements held out to apprentice-recruits will prove equal
to an emergency which want of confidence in the bona fides of the
Government and the large demands of rival labour markets have created.
This at least is certain—that the stimulus now given to the conservation
or restoration of the old scale of indispensable branches—Geography,
Grammar and History (which may be taught singly, or all three succes
sively adjusted to the progress of the several standards), will impart fresh
heart to the teacher; and that the moral intention of the measure will
be accepted by educationalists at large as an earnest that the legislature
did not mean, after all, to throw them eventually on their own, often
sorely overstrained, resources
*
In regard to the historical phases of the question, we seize this op
portunity to disabuse the public mind of the various illusory fictions with
�The Supplementary Minute of the Revised Code.
35
which the results of the “ Government ” scheme anterior to the present
one have been wantonly beset:—
1. “That system, where adequately developed, was not a failure, but
a triumphant success. The teaching was thoroughly good, not superfi
cial and ambitious, but sound and practical.” — (Mr. Fraser, Times,
April 18, and Commissioners’ Report, 1. 308—313.)
2. Where the efficiency was at fault, “ the great source lay in the
want of adequate funds preventing the employment of competent
teachers.”—(Com. Rep. n. 115.)
3. It was, therefore, a physical impossibility for teachers to pay the
requisite attention to the lower classes, especially in cases where pupil
teachers or stipendiary monitors were not procurable. And on the other
hand.
4. The unwise extension of the old capitation grant (for attendance
alone) to towns above 5000 inhabitants, in addition to the somewhat
lavish expenditure on building Primary, and subsidizing Training,
Schools, incited warrantable apprehensions as to the pitch which the
Parliamentary vote would ultimately be required to reach.
5. The unsatisfactory condition of the lower sections, which, how
ever, was greatly exaggerated, and so amplified in argument as to be
made to apply to schools as a -whole, combined with the desirability of
retrenchment to pave the way for a change.
6. Accordingly, when Mr. Lowe propounded the plan of the Revised
Code, professedly based on the conclusions of the Commissioners, and
guaranteed for the measure efficiency coupled with economy, the assent of
the House to the measure was readily given.
7. The new code substituted a simple and palpable, for a cumbrous
and indefinite, machinery, and it therefore displayed, among other
virtues, a captivating fitness for administrative purposes.
8. But, although many educationalists are prepared to acknowledge
its expediency as a basis for a national scheme, those immediately
acquainted with its mode of working, or practically engaged in working
it, object not so much to the limitation of the scale of subjects, as to the
virtual exclusion of education, in the true sense of the term, in connexion
with the instruction. The form of the teaching is now purely mechani
cal ; the memory and manual dexterity are exercised—the understanding
and imagination, not at all. Hence the grave complaint that the
“ tone ” of schools is lowered, a result which could not well be antici
pated by Mr. Lowe, seeing that “tone” is neither a quantititive
element; nor, as he confessed, cognizable by his intelligence. Obviously
it is only by increasing the teaching-power that larger and higher results,
can be secured, and we therefore hail the supplementary Minute as a.
step in the right direction.
3—2
�36
NEW EDUCATIONAL MINUTE.
The following minute by the Lords of the Committee of Council for
Education was adopted on the 20th of February last:—
Their lordships, having considered—1. The present ratio of teachers
to scholars in the elementary day schools under inspection, and the state
of instruction in such schools, as shown by the result of the examinations
under article 48 of the code, and by the reports of Her Majesty s in
spectors ; also, 2. The present supply of candidates qualified for ad
mission into the normal schools for training masters Resolved :
1. To provide in the estimate for public education in England and
Wales, during the financial year 31st March, 1867-8, for an additional
grant of is. 4d. per pass in reading, writing, or arithmetic, up to a sum
not exceeding ^8 for any one school (department), upon the following
conditions beyond those now specified in the articles 38'63
the code,
viz.:—
(«) The number of teachers must have allowed, throughout the
past year (article 17), at least one certificated or one assistant
teacher, fulfilling respectively the condition of articles 67 and
91-3, for every 80 scholars, or one pupil teacher fulfilling the
conditions of articles 81-9 for every 40 scholars after the first
25 of the average number of scholars in attendance.
(3) The number of passes in reading, writing, and arithmetic must 1.
exceed 200 per cent, of the annual average number of scholars
in attendance who are over six years of age. In schools where
the calculation of average attendance is made indiscriminately
upon scholars above and scholars under six years of age, the
school registers of age are to determine in what ratio the aveiage number in attendance is to be divided. 2. Fall under
Standards IV.—VI. to the extent of at least one-fifth part of
the whole number of passes.
(A The time tables of the school, in use throughout the past yeai
(article 17) must have provided for one or more specific sub
jects of secular instruction beyond article 48- The- inspector
must name the specific subject or subjects in his report, and
must state that at least one-fifth part of the average number of
scholars over six years of age have passed a satisfactory exami
nation therein.
.
.
2. To exempt for one year, from the operation of article 46, chil
dren who have already passed in Standard VI., provided they pass a
satisfactory examination in the subjects professed in their school beyon
articles 48 conformably to section (<?) in paragraph. 1 of this minute.
3. To provide in the same estimate for certain new grants to ele
mentary schools wherein it should appear from the inspector s ast
report that the number of teachers throughout the year (article 17) ia
been sufficient to satisfy section (zz) in paragraph 1 of this minute , sue
grants to be at the rate of ^10 for every male pupil teacher admitted
(articles 105-110) from the said elementary schools into any norma
school under inspection from candidates placed by examination m ie
�New Educational Minute.
yj
first class, and ^5 for every male pupil teacher so admitted from candi
dates in the second class.
3. To offer certain further new grants to the same elementary
schools for every male pupil teacher who having been admitted from
them into a normal school under inspection at the examination (articles
103) held in December, 1867, or at any later examination, should at
the end of his first year’s residence, be placed in the first or second
division (articles 119, 121, 1^2); such grants to be at the rate of ^8
for every student placed in the first division, and ^5 for every student
placed in the second division. No grants of this kind can become pay
able before December, 1868, and, therefore, although offered now, they
have no place in the estimate for the financial year March 1867-8.
5. To pay, in the financial year 31st March 1867-8, only so many
twelfth parts of the additional grants offered by this minute as, in the
case of grants under paragraph 1, equal the number of months from
1st April to the end of the school year (article 17), and, in the case of
grants under paragraph 3, equal the number (nine) of months from 1st
April to 31st December (article 81, f. 2.)
THE NEW EDUCATIONAL MINUTE IN THE HOUSE OF
COMMONS.
In the House of Commons on Friday, April 5th, Mr. Lowe, on the
motion for going into Committee of Supply, moved “ That this House
dissents from so much of the minute of the Committee of Council on
Education as provides for an increase of the grants now made to pri
mary schools.” He entered into an elaborate argument to show that in
most cases the money granted under this minute would be wasted, and
that it would do mischief instead of good. He stated that the minute
involved an increased expenditure of ^70,000 a year, and he contended
that this was not justified, considering the steady and satisfactory pro
gress which had been made under the system introduced in 1862.
There had already been an increase in the number of pupils amounting
to
10,000, and a saving of ^400,000, as compared with the expen
diture under the old system.
Mr. Corry defended the minute, and explained that its object was to
give assistance to small schools. He had felt from the representation
made to him that these schools were entitled to aid, and it was upon his
recommendation that the minute had been issued.
After some observations from Mr. P. F. Powell,
Mr. H. A. Bruce said the result of the new system introduced in
1862 was that the schools were receiving two-fifths less than they re
ceived formerly, the sum paid being ^620,000 instead of a million.
As to the minute, his only objection to it was that it was too econo
mical.
Mr. Henley and Mr. Pugh supported the minute.
i Mr. Hadfield denounced all State education whatever.
i. Upon a division Mr. Lowe’s motion was rejected by 203 to 40.
�38
; FORTHCOMING UNIVERSITY EXAMINATIONSOXFORD.
Three scholarships of ^70 a year each for three years, having been
founded in Balliol College by Miss Hannah Brackenbury “ for the
encouragement of the study of law and history, and of the study of
natural science, or one of the aforesaid studies, in order to qualify
students for the professions of law and medicine respectively;” there
will be an examination for one Scholarship, in the subject of natural
science, in November next; the precise time and further particulars to
be announced hereafter. Candidates must not have exceeded eight
terms from their matriculation. Papers will be set in the following sub
jects:—1, Mechanical Philosophy and Physics; 2, Chymistry,; 3, Phy
siology; but candidates will not be expected to offer themselves for
examination in one or more of the above subjects, if the Examiners
should consider it expedient.
_
On Saturday, May 4, there will be held an election at Merton College
to—1, One Classical Postmastership, value ^jioo per annum, tenable
for five years; 2, one Mathematical Postmastership, value ^j8o per
annum, tenable for five years; 3, one Classical Postmastership, value
¿£80 per annum, tenable for five years; 4, one National Science Scholar
ship, value £6q per annum, tenable for five years. Candidates for the
above must be under twenty years of age. Also, 5, one Classical Post
mastership, value ^j8o per annum, for five years, open to candidates of
any age; 6, one Exhibition, value ^25, for three years, also with no
limit of age. Candidates for the Natural Science Scholarship will be
examined in the ordinary classical matriculation subjects; viz., a portion
of a Greek and Latin author, Latin writing, grammar, arithmetic, and
algebra; and to those who pass this examination, papers will be offered
in physics, chymistry, and physiology. The examination begun April 30th.
A Fellowship will be filled up at Lincoln College on Tuesday, July
2. Candidates must call on the Rector some time before the 25th of
June. The examination will begin on Tuesday, the 25th of June, at
10 a.m. The Fellowship is open to all members of the University who
have passed all the examinations required for the degree of B.A. The
Fellow elected will be required to reside, and, except under certain con
tingencies, to take Holy Orders, within ten years.
There will be an election at Brasenose College on Friday, May 10, to
(at least) four open Scholarships—viz., three of the value of ¿£80 a
year during residence, and one of the value of ^73 during residence.
One of the former will be awarded for proficiency in mathematics, sub
ject to a pass examination in classics. Candidates, who must produce
evidence of being under 20 years of age, and must bring testimonials of
good conduct from their college or school, are required to present them
selves to the Principal between 8 and 9 p.m. on Monday, May 6, or
between 9 and 10 a.m. on Tuesday, May 7. The examination will
begin at the last-named hour.
_ _
There will be an election to an Open Scholarship in Pembroke Col
lege on Friday, May 17. The Scholarship is worth £72, and is tenable
for five years. An Exhibition, worth ^50, may be filled up at the same
�Forthcoming University Examinations.
39
time. In awarding this, the pecuniary circumstances of candidates will
be taken into account. The examination will commence on Tuesday,
the 14th, at 10 a.m., and candidates must be under 20 years of age.
CAMBRIDGE.
There will be an examination for two Exhibitions at King’s College on
the 12th, 13th, and 14th of June. The Exhibitions will be of the value
of ¿50 per annum, and will be tenable for three years, or until such
time as the student shall succeed in obtaining one of the Open Scholar
ships hereafter to be offered by the College. Candidates must be under
20 years of age, and have not previously entered any other College in
the University. Further information may be obtained from the Rev.
W. R. Chur ton, Tutor of the College..
There will be two minor Scholarships at Clare College open for com
petition to those intending to commence residence in October, of ^60
each, tenable for two and a half years, or till exchanged for a Founda
tion Scholarship. The examination will commence on Wednesday,
June 5, at 9 a.m. These Scholarships will be awarded to deserving
•candidates only. Preference will be given to those who show special
proficiency in either classics or mathematics. Candidates to send in
their names, with testimonials as to character, to the Rev. W. Raynes,
tutor. Subjects for examination:—Latin and Greek translation and
composition; Euclid, plane trigonometry, arithmetic, algebra, geome
trical and analytical conic sections.
An examination for four Minor Scholarships will be held in-Downing
College on Wednesday, the 5 th of June next, and the two following
days, and will begin at 9 a.m. on Wednesday. The examination will be
in Classics and Elementary Mathematics, but some weight will be given
to proficiency in French and German. Two additional papers of an
elementary character will be set, one on Moral Philosophy, .in connexion
with the principles of Jurisprudence, and on International Law; the
other on the Natural Sciences in connexion with Medicine—namely,
Chymistry, including Analysis, Mineralogy, Botany, Comparative
Anatomy, and Physiology: and in awarding two of these Scholarships
•considerable importance will be attached to any special proficiency in
the legal or in the medical subject. Persons who have not been entered
at any College in the University, or who have not resided one entire
term in any such College, are eligible to these Minor Scholarships,
which will be of the value of ^40 per annum, and tenable for two years,
or until their holders are elected to Foundation Scholarships. No one
elected Minor Scholar will receive any emoluments until he has com
menced residence as a student of the College.
The syndicate for conducting the non-gremial examinations at Cam
bridge have just presented a report as to the girls’ examination, which
was originally put forward merely as a' three years’ experiment. They
-state that the scheme has been a complete success, and recommend
that the examination be made a permanency. No lists are to be pub
lished, but each girl who passes is to receive a certificate, and those who
have passed with credit, certificates of honour. The examinations are
�40
Forthcoming University Examinations.
to be at the same times and in the same subjects as those of the boys.
For the junior examination the girls are not to be more than sixteen
years of age, and for the senior examination not more than eighteen
years; all,, except in cases where the parents disapprove, are to be
examined in religious knowledge.
.The Oxford Local Examinations.—The Oxford Local Exami
nations will be held this year at Oxford, London, Bath, Birmingham,
righton, Exeter, Faversham, Finchley, Gloucester, Leeds, Lincoln,
Liverpool, Manchester, Northampton, Nottingham, Southampton,
launton, Truro, West Buckland, Windermere. The examination will
commence in each place on Tuesday, the nth of June, at 9 o’clock, a.m.
The Master and Fellows of Balliol College, Oxford, anxious to encouiage middle-class education, have offered five exhibitions to be com
peted, foi at the Oxford Local Examinations in the present year. These
exhibitions will be of the annual value of ^52 i°s., and will betenable
during residence for four years. They will be offered to those among
the senior candidates who shall obtain the highest places in the first
division of the. general list. The Exhibitioners will be expected to pro
duce testimonials of good conduct, and to commence residence in
January, 1868 ; and will be required to pass the first of their University
Examinations (Responsions) within six months. The Exhibitioners will
have to pay to the University an admission fee of ^2 10s. and an
annual fee of ^1. They will also have to pay to Balliol College the
annual sums of ^22 8s. for tuition, and of ¿"io for furnished lodgings ;
but they will not be subject to any other College charges, and they will
be able to regulate the expense of their own living.
Middle Class Education in the Metropolis. — The second
annual meeting of the Governors of the Corporation lately established
by Charter for the promotion of Middle Class Education in the Metro
polis, was held on Monday, March 18th, in the Mansion House, the
Lord Mayor in the chair. The school in Bath Street, City Road, was
opened at Michaelmas, and the Council congratulated the Governors on
the success which had attended it. During the first quarter there were
518 scholars, there are now 650, with upwards of 200 applicants for
admission, for whom the Council cannot find accommodation in the
present building. They hoped to be able to obtain from the Ecclesias
tical Commissioners, with whom they were in treaty on the subject,
upwards of an acre of freehold ground of the Finsbury estate, on which
a school capable of accommodating 1000 scholars could be built. The
erection of a similar school would shortly be commenced in Southwark.
There was a sum of ^48,412 in hand. The report and statement of
accounts were adopted. Sir John Lubbock, Mr. Aiderman J. Lawrence,
Mr. J. P. Gassiot, Mr. Samuel Morley, Mr. Sheriff Waterlow, and
others, addressed the meeting. Letters were read from Mr. Goschen
and other members of Parliament, regretting their inability to attend.
After the transaction of some formal business, a vote of thanks to the
Lord Mayor closed the proceedings.
�4i
'KING EDWARD’S SCHOOLS, WITLEY, GODALMING.
HE pleasant and healthy neighbourhood of Witley, a village
and railway station on the line from London to Portsmouth,
a few miles beyond Godaiming, has been chosen as the new
site of the above schools, consisting of an Industrial School
for Boys, and a Girl’s School. The schools were formally opened out
Friday, April the 5th.
It is worth while to glance at the history of this foundation. In the
year 1552 the citizens of London presented a supplication to King
Edward VI., “in the name of the poor, and for Jesus Christ’s sake,”
that his Majesty would be pleased to grant them one of his houses,
called the Palace of Bridewell (situated between St. Bride’s Church and
the Fleet, which is now New Bridge Street), for the harbour and lodging,
of the said poor. This request was granted; and while stringent lawswere enacted to put down the social evils of beggary, misery and thievery,
which were then rife in the city of London, it was provided that the
poor-house at Bridewell should be a workhouse, where those who needed
relief at the public cost should be compelled to earn' it by their labour.
But the legislators and social reformers of that day, being wiser, ap-#
parently, than we are now, did not think it was doing enough to deal
with the case of adult pauperism. They sought also to prevent its
growth, by teaching the young to work for an honest living. “And first,”
say.the citizens of London, in their supplication to the King, “we
thought to begin -with the poor child; that he should be harboured, fed
and clothed, and virtuously trained up;” whereupon they proceed to
state their plans for the establishment of the Industrial Schools, or
“ House of Sundry Occupations,” in which a variety of useful trades may
be taught to the boys and girls who would else be running wild and
wicked in the streets. So truly did the benevolence or prudence of the
Londoners, three hundred years ago, anticipate the efforts of the foundersof our modem “Homes” and “Refuges,” which are “supported by
voluntary contributions,” and are confessedly unequal to the wants of
the present time. Bridewell Hospital was intrusted, in 1557, to the
management of the governors of the House of Bethlem, which was then
situated on the north side of the City walls, outside Bishopsgate, and
was afterwards erected in Moorfields. It very naturally came to pass
that, in connection with the relief of the destitute, and with the educa
tion of children at Bridewell, there were cells or prisons for the punish
ment of beggars, prostitutes, and other disorderly persons, as well as of
idle or disobedient apprentices, such as we see in some of Hogarth’s
pictures; this part of the establishment, with the whipping-post and
stocks, being under the magisterial jurisdiction of the Aldermen of the
city of London. In 1831 the Schools and House of Occupations be
longing to Bridewell were removed from New Bridge Street to a site
adjoining the premises now occupied by Bethlem.
The prison and the workhouse have been superseded by the modem
establishment of Houses of Correction in the one case, and by the
�42
King Edward's Schools, Witley, Godalming.
operation of the New Poor Law in the other; but King Edward’s
Schools have continued their useful work. This institution was, for
many years, .to all intents and purposes, a reformatory school for juvenile
criminals; in fact, it might claim the honour of having set the first
example of that great movement which has latterly been carried on by
the reformatory schools established in London and in other parts of the
kingdom. We find it stated in a report by the chaplain, the Rev. E.
Rudge, that, so lately as 1856, nearly one fourth of the inmates of King
Edward’s Schools were convicted criminals, and some of the boys had
been several times in prison. The institution is now placed on quite a
different footing. It has been converted into a school rather for desti
tute than for criminal children. By the existing rules, criminal children
are not to be received, except in special cases, and the proportion of
them is limited to one sixth part of the whole number of inmates; but,
practically, even this proportion has never been reached since the new
scheme came into operation, and there are now only two or three of the
boys who have been convicted of crime. A few destitute cases are
admitted from the city of London on the recommendation of the Aider
men. The number of boys at the end of last year in the schools was
74, and of girls 100; the total number of both sexes from 1830 to 1866
e inclusive having been 3653. Their average age on admission is twelve
or thirteen. Some of the boys are instructed by “ arts-masters ” in such
trades as tailoring and shoemaking, to which gardening will now perhaps
be added; the girls learn needlework, and that of the kitchen and
laundry; the school teaching consists of reading, writing, arithmetic,
English history, geography, singing, and the Church Catechism. Of
those who left the school during the last year, twenty boys entered the
royal navy, eleven entered the army, and others were apprenticed to
trades, or sent home to their friends; the girls were placed in domestic
service. By a wholesome and praiseworthy regulation, 178 boys’and 42
girls, former inmates of the schools, attended before the committee of
governors with certificates of good conduct from their employers, and
received the customary reward of ^1 each, some for the first time,
others for the second or third time; as the governors keep an eye upon
them during three years from their leaving the schools.
University Education-.—The Bill brought in by Mr. Ewart, Mr. Neate, and Mr.
Pollard-Urquhart to extend the benefits of Education in the Universities of Oxford
and Cambridge to students not belonging to any college or hall, provides that, not
withstanding anything contained in any Act of Parliament now in force relating to
either of the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, or in statutes, charters, deeds of
composition, or other instruments of foundation, of either of the said Universities,
or of any college or hall within the same, any person may be matriculated without
being entered as a member of any college or hall, and may, if he shall think fit. join
himself to any college or hall, with the consent of the head thereof, but without being
obliged to reside within the same ; and every person so matriculated shall in all re
spects and for all intents or purposes be and be considered as a member of the Uni
versity, and upon joining any college or hall shall in all respects and for all intents or
purposes be and be considered as a member thereof. For the purposes of this Act
the cathedral or house of Christ Church, in Oxford, shall be considered to be to all
intents and purposes a college of the University of Oxford.
�43
’ Mr. Gladstone on Compulsory Education.—Mr. Gladstone has
addressed the following letter to the Rev. J. Oakley .
« ii, Carlton House Terrace, S.W. Feb. 20.
“Rev. and dear Sir—I have read the report of the subcommittee
of the London Diocesan Board of Education with much interest, and it
is from no feeling of indifference or aversion if I decline to take part in
its proceedings on the subject. It is because I make it a rule on all
questions of a nature to come before Parliament for its decision, to
avoid, if possible, taking any part beyond its walls, 111 order that I may
be at liberty to act freely for the best at the proper time.
“ As regards opinion, however, I may say that while I well understand,
or at least appreciate, the grounds of the present movement, and.a“very glad that the clergy, under the bishop, have entered actively into
the matter, I yet see much difficulty in the way of direct compulsory
measures. I have always leaned very much to a scheme, the mam point
of which was, that it should be made penal to employ for wages persons
below a certain age not furnished with certain certificates of education
and attainment.
,
, , • „
“ A plan of this kind was prematurely proposed some years back in a
bill by Mr. Adderley, and was rejected on account of the immature
state of circumstances, which, however, must probably ripen from year
to year. A measure of that nature might be brought into action gra
dually, like the new law of 1834.
.
“ I remain, dear Sir, your very faithful servant,
“Rev. J. Oakley.”
“w- K Gladstone.
NOTICES OF NEW BOOKS.
Calisthenics; or the Elements of Bodily Culture-—On Pestalozzian Prin
ciples, designed for Practical Education in Schools, Colleges, Families,
&c. By Henry de Laspee, 2nd Ed. Griffin & Co.
This work is well known to teachers of Calisthenics, and has been so
often favourably noticed, that we need here merely record the appearance
of a second edition of it. In the preface the author makes the following
TCixi^^ks * —-
,
“In reply to the chief objections raised against my system: First, 'That
it is too scientific and laborious for general use,’ . I can only say, that
having myself been from early youth regularly trained, and being per
fectly well acquainted with all which passed for, and was admitted into
schools as, Physical Education ; it was the inadequacy and inefficiency
as branches of Education, which caused me to deviate from, and re
linquish them, and led me to this system, as more simple and compre
hensive than the others; and which will be found to be so, after a little
study, when it will enable any judicious teacher, governess or mother,
to teach and apply it with good effect. Secondly: 'that I had copied my
work from another abroad,’ is easily answered, when I state, that, even to
�44
Notices of New Books.
this day, there exists not another book on the subject of Physical Edu
cation, like mine: methodically treated as to tendency, from elements
to object. When I resolved and proceeded to commit my system to
writing, it had no precedents, nor were there authorities, which I could
ave consulted, except Pestalozzi’s method, for the treatment of the
subject of Bodily Culture/: Pursuing the same, the course lay already
before me; I was no more my own master, so as to write down, or leave
out,.what I wished; and even what remained of my own prejudices had
to give way, to what method dictated.”
An Elementary Physical Atlas, intended chiefly for Map drawing. By the
Rev. J. P. Faunthorpe, B.A., F.R.G.S., Vice-Principal and Geogra
phical Lecturer of Battersea Training-College.
Map drawing though comparatively a new branch of instruction is
m Middle-Class, as well as Primary Schools, steadily attaining the
prominence it deserves as a mechanical aid towards, and confirmatory
test of, Geographical knowledge. The work before us is the latest, and
one of the most meritorious efforts in this direction; and, as the Batter
sea students have always stood in the first rank in this subject, in con
nexion with the Certificate examinations, the authorship is a satisfactory
guarantee of the practical ability displayed in this compilation. The
maps are severally executed in Mr. Stanford’s well known style ; and the
whole is preceded by concise instructions in letter-press, first, in regard
to the general difficulties, and, secondly, in the form of specific directions
for each map
Questions and Answers on Geography, the Globes and Astronomy with a
short Account of the Winds, Tides, Air, &c. By J. J. Hooke. London :
T. J. Allman.
This new Historical Geography of Mr. J. J. Hooke, supplies a desi
deratum long felt in schools; seeing it contains a large amount of in
formation, interestingly put together, and which is found in no other
book of the same kind. The answers to the questions are not verbose,
nor is there one word de trop; and, therefore, the pupil is not neces
sitated to cull his information from matter which is often made obscure
by a too profuse use of words.
We do not say that Mr. Hooke’s book is superior to other geographies
or even that it is equal to some; but we consider it is free from the
fault which many of them have, viz., of saying too much, and thus
yearying the pupil; or of others, which are too meagre. The subjects
introduced are,. of necessity, numerous, so that the amount of instruc
tion contained in so small a compass is somewhat surprising. A brief
discourse on Astronomy is added ; but no more is said about it than the
youthful mind can readily comprehend. There are also short chapters'
on the Winds, Tides, Air, Eclipses, the Thermometer, and various other
subjects, all explained in as concise a form as possible, and in a manner
capable of being easily understood by the learner.
�45
WORDS.
^Passages from various Writers in illustration of certain words.
words arranged alphabetically.
Abrade (to wear away). “For fifteen
years the treaty of Vienna was observed as
sacredly as if it had been written on the
skies ; and it has taken nearly fifty years
altogether to abrade this mighty land
mark down to the level of history.”
Times.
Absinthe (a narcotic). “The American
Tax Bill adopts all these in an exaggerated
form, and swallows them as a whet, just
as an epicure swallows a taste of absinthe
or an anchovy, or half-a-dozen oysters, to
prepare the appetite.”—Times.
Abstention (?vs/?'«iU). “The dignity
Of France will end by being compromised
and abstention will become a duty.”—
Times.
■ Ab sums (to destroy gradually'). . “ Since
we last mentioned the Pontiff, his patri
mony had absumed away from him like
grease before the fire.”—Temple Bar.
Acclaim (shout ofpraise). ‘“The Liberty
of the Press ; it is the air we breathe, if
we have it not we die
And then what
Stentorian cheering till the walls of the old
Crown and Anchor shook again ; and the
crowds in the Strand took up the acclaim
■—and even sleepy Temple Bar seemed in
clined to make an effort towards an echo.”
—Times.
Acclimatized (inured to a climate).
“ The general good health of sailors in the
Arctic regions proves nothing against the
depressing influence of cold, for these
sailors are picked men, and in the prime
of life. Under such circumstances it may,
perhaps, be possible to become ‘ acclima
tized,’ and to feel the cold less the longer
the exposure to it.”—Times.
Acolyte (boys attendant upon the priest
hood. “ Then comes the bishop in his
mitre, his yellow stole upheld by two prin
cipal priests (the curate and sub-curate),
and to him his acolytes waft incense, as
well as to the huge figure of the Madonna
Which follows.”—Roba de Roma, by W.
Story.
Acumen (quickness of intellect). “In
the north of America the people are all
protectionists, in the south they are all
free-traders,notbecausethe south possesses
any greater amount of logical ACUMEN
The
than the north, but because each acts only
for its own interests.”—Times.
Adhibit (to apply). “ In May, 1830,
George IV. became so greatly debilitated
that it was found inconvenient and painful
for him to sign with his own hand public
documents; a bill was, therefore, passed
allowing the sign manual to be adhibited
by a stamp in his Majesty’s presence.”—
Dr. Farr.
JEgis (a shield).
“But as General
Hunter has friends in the cabinet, and is
supposed to be sheltered under the broad
jEG-is of Mr. Secretary Stanton, to whom
the president defers in military matters, it
is possible that he will be allowed to re
tain his post.”—-Times.
“ Providence has covered you with its
2EGIS, and the country with its acclama
tions.”—Address oe the Legislative
Body to the Emperor Napoleon,
March, 1861.
^Esthetic (the science of our feelings and
emotions.) “ No rich drawing-room could
show more taste in its arrangements, or
have a more soothing effect on a mind to
which the sense of ¿esthetic fitness is its
native element.”—Miss Mulock.
“ A purely painful domestic tragedy in
deed, or a subject calculated merely to
harrow up the feelings of the spectator, or
to excite feelings of horror and disgust
like many of the Spanish pictures of mar
tyrdom, should, in our judgment, be pro
scribed as violating ¿ESTHETIC propriety.”
—Times.
Affluent (flowing). “There is another
word which I have just employed.—
affluent—in the sense of a stream which
does not flow into the sea, but joins a
larger stream; as, for instance—the Isis
is an affluent of the Thames, the Moselle
of the Rhine.”—Dr. Trench.
Agglomerate (to gather up as a ball).
“ The rest of the place and of the inhabi
tants, as I saw it, and them, might be con
sidered as an agglomerate of three or
four sheds, a few long huts, a saw mill,
and some twenty negroes sitting on a log
looking at the trains.”—Times Corre
spondent (Mr. Russell).
Agnatic (a descentfrom the samefather).
�46
Words.
“ The Duchies can, therefore, in no way
pretend that violence has been done to
their rights. Their agnatic succession
has been completely respected, and is now
the law of the whole monarchy. The only
question then, regards the Augustenburg
family.”—Times.
Alembic (a vessel used in distilling).
“ The moment a doctrine is propounded,
hundreds of busy brains are at work to
look at it, from every possible point of
view, to ventilate, to sift, to examine, and
regard it under every conceivable light or
shade. In this fiery alembic truth is
effectually separated from falsehood, and
things are brought down from vague ge
neralities [to practical principles.” —
Times.
“ Cobden’s ideal of universal peace was
not perchance the highest ; but every
thing that was good and noble in his idea
remains with us, and is still a part of our
vital force. Purged of its crudities, in
the sacred alembic of death, it is now of
tenfold worth and purity.” — Tele
graph.
Ambidexter (« double dealer). “ In
comparably more brilliant, more splendid,
eloquent, accomplished, than his rival, the
great St. John could be as selfish as Ox
ford was, and could act the double art as
skilfully as ambidextrous Churchill
(Marlboro).’ ’—Thackeray.
Amenities {agreeableness of situation).
“ I see nothing in the acquirement of a
livelihood by manual labour that degrades
a man of good character. I want to know
why it j is that these amenities of life
should be confined to one class—that the
man that gets his livelihood by mere ma
nual labour should not be as refined as the
greatest man in the land.”—Mr. Roebuck.
Amplify (to enlarge). “ I cannot, how
ever, go along with the honourable mem
ber in thinking that the mere abolition of
passports is a great security for peace be
tween two nations, and I think that in
making such an assertion, the hon. mem
ber rather amplifies a small matter.”—
Lord Palmerston.
Amplitude (largeness, abundance). “Had
Mr. Page only put the public to great in
convenience by pulling down the old
Westminster Bridge, and stopping the
traffic till the new one was thrown open in
all its amplitude of way, what a jubilee
there would have been at its opening.”—
Times.
Anachronism (an error in computing
time). “ And now that Italy has organ
ized herself, and the period of revolution
has passed into that of regular and estab
lished government, the intervention of
France is an anachronism which she her
self ought to be the first to recognize.”—
Times.
“For the ancient history of Egypt, four
authorities; are relied upon; they differ
one from another by hundreds, indeed by
thousands of years. To make Napoleon
the Great the immediate successor of
Charlemagne would not be a greater ana
chronism than is to be found in com
paring the assertions of the four authori
ties in question.”—Examiner.
Ancillary (subservient). “ The mover
and supporters of this bill very fairly avow
that it is the first step towards proposing
the ballot for parliamentary elections.
One honourable member has told us that
it is ancillary and supplementary to a
proposal of vote by ballot.”—Lord Pal
merston.
Angularities (angles or corners). “We
have debated upon public affairs till we
have hardly left to ourselves a substantial
difference of opinion to debate about.-—
We have rounded the corners, and planed
off the angularities, till there is hardly
anything left to lay hold of.”—Times.
Anneal (to temper). “In that case war
would gratify the warlike passions of the
American people, both north and south,
and would tend in popular opinion to
strengthen and anneal the broken links
of their ancient partnership.”—Times. .!
Anomalies (irregularities). “ It is in
evitable that the question should arise—
shall these anomalies be meddled with ?
shall it be attempted to remove them, and
bring writing and speech into harmony
and consent.”—Dr. Trench.
“ The new anomalies which it intro
duces, and the old anomalies which it
spares and re-enacts, are equally mischiev
ous and unmeaning.”—Times.
Anomaly (a deviation). “The Horse
Guards receive three-pence a day—or
twenty-five per cent, more pay than the
Blues. This has gone on for many years
—at last the anomaly struck some medi
tative individual, and he devoted his lei
sure to an. historical inquiry into the
matter.’ ’—Times.
Anonyme (feigned name). “Historicus
in his reply to me yesterday, does himself
great credit as an adroit special pleader,
whatever judgment must be passed upon
that candour which his chosen ANONYME
seems to claim.”—G. N. SAUNDERS.
�THE
AGENCY
DEPARTMENT
In connection with the “ Quarterly Journal" is conducted by Mr. F. S. de
Carteret-Bisson, at 70, Berners Street, Oxford Street, W., to whom all
Communications relating to this Department should be made.
Ko in SCHOOLS FOR SALE.
No. in
Register.
suburb. Held on lease, 14 years unex
281. LONDON.—Superior School for La- pired, at a very low rental. The rent of
dies. Established. 25 years, and situate
the mansion is only £150 (worth £250).
in a favourite suburb of London. Aver
Price for this valuable lease, £550 ; fix
age attendance 30 Boarders : terms 50
tures and fittings at valuation. Full
guineas each, besides extras (day pupils
particulars, with view of house, on ap
easily obtained if desired). A splendid
plication at 70, Berners Street.
detached Mansion, standing in its own 299. MIDDLESEX.—A high class School
grounds, with lawns, croquet ground,
for Gentlemen’s sons ; numbering 75
conservatory, and every convenience.
Boarders. The premises are delightfully
Bent £130. Gross receipts past year
situate not far from Town, and are his
£2,007 7s. Goodwill £650. School
own freehold property, comprising a com
fixtures and furniture at valuation. The
modious house, with dormitories, school
average gross receipts for past 3 years
rooms, out-houses, master’s residence,
are £1.990 6s. 4d. The house and
covered play-ground, fives-court, a
grounds are in every way suited for a
cricket-field of 5 acres, gardens, &c. The
high class school. A bath room and hot
terms for pupils were originally from 60
and cold water for the upper rooms, also
to 80 guineas,but they have been raised
gas has been introduced at the vendor’s
to 80 and 100 guineas. Rent only £200
expense. Books and accounts (clearly
per annum, goodwill £3,000 to be spread
kept) may be seen at Mr. Bisson’s Office,
over a number of years. Furniture at
extending over a period of 10 years.
valuation.
229a. MIDDLESEX.—A Boarding and
Day School for Gentlemen’s sons, situ SCHOOLS AND PARTNERSHIPS
ate in a healthy locality in the N.W.
WANTED.
district of London. A capital house, 3fr. Bisson calls the attention of intending pur
well adapted for school purposes, large chasers to his Bi-monthly List No. 4, issued gratis,
on the 2nd inst. The successful result of a large
playground and garden adjoining, all number of negotiations (see page 8) has reduced the
held upon lease (9 years unexpired) at school properties at present in the market to a very
the low rental of £60. There are 25 small number.
Boarders, averaging from 25 to 40 271. A B.A. of Dublin seeks a partner
ship, £1000 at command.
guineas each, 3 day boarders, and 3 day
pupils, paying good terms. The gross 274. A B.A. of Dublin wants a school
income for past year was £800. Terms
near Town.
for goodwill £200; household furniture 275. A B.A. of Cambridge wishes to join
or part can be taken, if desired, at a
as partner, £500 to invest.
276. An M.A. of Cambridge desires a
valuation.
.
*
295 STAFFORDSHIRE.—ABoarding
partnership.
and Day School for Boys, established 10 281. A B.A. of Cambridge in orders will
years. There are at present 20 board
buy a good-school.
ers. Terms 28 to 30 guineas, with ex 283. A B.A. of Oxford, £300 to invest.
tras, and 50 day pupils, paying £5 and 284. An M.A. of Cambridge (in orders),
£6 a year, besides extras. There is a
£1000 at command.
good play-ground with outbuildings. 285. A Wrangler. Experienced. £300
Rent £60, taxes about £10. The gross
to invest.
receipts the past year were £900. 286. A B.A. of Oxford. £500 to invest.
Terms of sale, goodwill £300, (a year’s 272. A Middle class Boarding and Day
purchase). School and household fur
School wanted.
niture at a valuation.
273. An experienced Tutor (age 24) de
240. MIDDLESEX.—The nucleus of an
sires a partnership.
old established School, with a splendid 276. A B.A. of Oxford wishes to purchase
and commodious Mansion, in thorough
a School. £1000 to invest.
repair, to be obtained on most advanta 277. A Clergyman wishes to purchase a
geous terms. The house is an elegant
good School near London.
building, and can accommodate 50 to 278. A Clergyman (in high honours)
60 Boarders ; it is situate in a favourite
wants a first class School.
Register.
,
�The Agency Department.
Schools, &c., Wanted—continued.
No. in
*
'¡Register
289. An experienced teacher seeks a good
Partnership. Capital to invest, £700.
282. A Clergyman wishes to purchase a
^School in Hants, Bucks, or London.
2/9. An M.A. of Cambridge seeks a good
, opening, Partnership or otherwise.
The following are a few Lady Clients, who
wish to purchase Schools.
-300. A Lady wants a small school, near
London. Capital £150.
No. in
Register.
301. A small preparatory School for Boys.
£250 to invest.
302. A boarding School for Girls. £300
to invest.
303. A School for Ladies, near’ Town.
£500 at command.
300. A boarding and day School. £800
at command.
305. Asmall School. Capital£300 to invest.
306. A good School, near Town. Capital
I to invest, £700.
TUTORS SEEKING APPOINTMENTS AT THE MIDSUMMER
QUARTER, 1867.
arista.
Graduates.
5361. B.A. Oxford, (2nd class Classical
4667. B.A. Oxford (in orders). Classics,
honours). Classics, mathematics, and
mathematics junior, chemistry, French,
English subjects. Age 27, salary £150.
German and English subjects. Age
English Masters.
27, experience 6 years, salary £120.
4738. B.A. Cambridge. Classics, mathe 4710. Classics, moderate mathematics to
quadratics, French gram. English sub
matics, French and English subjects.
jects. Age 22, salary £25.
Age 24, salary £100.
4771. M.A. and B.A. Cambridge. Clas 4883. Classics, mathematics, French and
English subjects. Age 28, salary £60.
sics, mathematics, French, German and
English subjects. Age 30, (in orders), 4897. Drawing, all styles, and English
subjects. _ Age 24, salary £60.
Salary £180.
4778. B.A. Cambridge, (Senior Optime) 4912. Classics, mathematics, drawing
music, and English subjects. Age 21,
Classics, mathematics, French, German,
salary £30.
Drawing and English subjects. Age
5041. Classics, mathematics, French,
24, salary £100.
Drawing and English subjects. Am
■4887. M.A. Dublin. Classics, mathema
36, salary £50.
°
tics, music, organ singing and English
5056. Classics, mathematics, and English
subjects. Age 30, salary, £120.
subjects. Age 21, salary £30.
.5015. B.A. Cambridge (19 Wrangler).
Classics, mathematics, English. A<m 5107. Classics and mathematics, high,
French, German, and English subjects.
22. Salary £150.
°
5059. B.A. Durham (in honours). Clas- ; Age 30, salary £60.
sics, mathematics junior, English sub- I 5114. Classics and mathematics, high, and
jects. Age 25, salary £100.
; English subjects. Age 24, salary £45.
5063. B.A. of Cambridge (Wrangler and 5173. Mathematics, English subjects,
piano, organ, &c. Age 21, salary'£30.
2nd Class Classical Tripos). Age 27,
5309. Classics, mathematics, French,
salary £200.
piano, and English subjects. Age 20,
5074. B.A. Oxford. Classics, mathema
salary £30.
tics, and English. Age 27, salary £120.
5086. B.A. Cambridge (Wrangler). Clas
Foreign Masters.
sics, mathematics, and English sub
136. French and drawing in all styles.
jects. Salary, £150.
Age 30, salary £50.
5135. B.A. Oxford (in orders). Classics,
Mathematics, German and English 315. French, German, drawing. Age 27,
salary £50.
subjects. Age 28, salary £120.
5156. B.A. Cambridge (15 Wrangler). 277. French, German, classics, piano,
organ. Age 29, salary £50.
Classics, mathematics, French and
404. French, German, mathematics,
English. Age 24, salary £150.
drawing. Age 24, salary £40.
5334. M.A. Cambridge. High Second
Classical Tripos. Classics, French, En 416. French, German, drawing, music.
Age 24, salary £50.
glish. Age 27, salary £150.
5316. B.A. Oxford. Classics, mathema 418. French, classics, mathematics, music,
piano, drawing. Salary £60.
tics, French and English. Age 22,
salary £100.
150 numbers omitted for want of space.
�
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Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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The quarterly journal of education, Vol.1 No.1, May 1867
Date
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1867
Identifier
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G5681
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Place of publication: [London?]
Collation: 48 p. ; 21 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway.
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[s.n.]
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Education
Women
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<img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /><br /><span>This work (The quarterly journal of education, Vol.1 No.1, May 1867), identified by </span><span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk">Humanist Library and Archives</a></span><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
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English
Conway Tracts
Education of women
Education-Great Britain
Teaching
-
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Text
THE
CURRICULUM OF MODERN EDUCATION,
AND
THE RESPECTIVE CLAIMS OF CLASSICS AND SCIENCE
TO BE REPRESENTED IN IT CONSIDERED :
BEING THE SUBSTANCE OF TWO LECTURES DELIVERED AT THE MONTHLY
EVENING MEETINGS OF THE COLLEGE OF PRECEPTORS,
APRIL 11TH, & MAY 9th, 1866.
By JOSEPH PAYNE,
LATE OF LEATHERHEAD;
FELLOW, AND ONE OF THE VICE-PRESIDENTS, OF THE COLLEGE OF PRECEPTORS,
MEMBER OF THE PHILOLOGICAL SOCIETY, ETC.
“ Not to know at large of things remote
From use, obscure and subtle, but to know
That which before us lies in daily life,
Is the prime wisdom: what is more is fume,
Or emptiness, or fond impertinence,
And renders us, in things that most concern,
Unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek.”
Milton.
LONDON:
VIRTUE, BROTHERS, & CO., 26, IVY LANE,
PATERNOSTER ROW.
1866.
�°So each study in its turn can give rea
sons why it should be cultivated to the utmost.
But all these very arguments are met by an
unanswerable fact, that our time is limited. It
is not possible to teach boys everything.
“ If it is attempted, the result is generally a
superficial knowledge of exceedingly little value,
and liable to the great moral objection, that it
encourages conceit and discourages hard work.
A boy who knows the general principles of the
study, without knowing its details, easily gets the
credit of knowing much, while the test of putting
his knowledge to use will quickly prove that he
knows very little. Meanwhile he acquires a dis
taste for the drudgery of details, without which
drudgery nothing worth doing ever yet was
done.”—Dr. Temple’s Answer to Questions of
the Commissioners on Public Schools.
“ If we are to choose a study which shall pre
eminently fit a man for life, it will be that which
shall best enable him to enter into the thoughts,
the feelings, the motives of his fellows.”—Ibid.
“ All education really comes from intercourse
with other minds. The desire to supply bodily
needs and to get bodily comforts would prompt
even a solitary human being (if he lived long
enough) to acquire some rude knowledge of
nature. But this would not make him more of
a man. That which supplies the perpetual spur
to the whole human race to continue incessantly
adding to our stores of knowledge; that which
refines and elevates, and does not educate merely
the moral, nor merely the intellectual faculties,
but the whole man, is our connection with each
other; and the highest study is that which most
promotes this connexion, by enlarging its sphere,
by correcting and purifying its influences, by
giving perfect and pure models of what ordinary
experience can, for the most part, show only in
adulterated and imperfect forms.”—Ibid.
“The classic life contains precisely the true
corrective for the chief defects of modern life.
The classic writers exhibit precisely that order
of virtues in which we are apt to be deficient.
They altogether show human life on a grander
scale, with less benevolence, but more patriotism;
less sentiment, but more self-control; of a lower
average of virtue, but more striking individual
examples of it; fewer small goodnesses, but more
greatness and appreciation of greatness; more
which tends to exalt the imagination and inspire
high conceptions of the capabilities of human
nature. If, as every one must see, the want of
the affinity of these studies to the modem mind
is gradually lowering them in popular estima
tion, this is but a confirmation of the need of
them, and renders it more incumbent on those
who have the power, to do their utmost to aid
in preventing their decline.”—John Stuart
Mill.
“ We would have classics and logic taught far
more really and deeply than at present, and
would add to them other studies more alien than
any which yet exist to the ‘business of the
world,’ but more germane to the great business
ofevery rational being—the strengthening and en
larging of his own intellect and character.”—Ibid.
“ In nations, as in men, in intellect as in social
condition, true nobility consists in inheriting
what is best in the possessions and character of
a line of ancestry. Those who can trace the
descent of their own ideas and their own lan
guage through the race of cultivated nations,
who can show that those whom they represent
or reverence as their parents have everywhere
been foremost in the field of thought and in
tellectual progress: these are the true nobility
of the world of mind; the persons who have
received true culture; and such it should be the
business of a liberal education to make men.”—
Anon.
“ The ancient classics would not be worse, but
better taught in th'- highest forms, did the pupil
receive a more general culture in his early
course.”—Dr. Hodgson, “Classical Instruc
tion,” an Article reprinted from the Westmin
ster Review, Oct. 1853.
" It is the early age at which classical studies
are begun that, rendering the work at once
tedious and unprofitable, necessitates so terrible
an expenditure of time, and prevents their suc
cessful prosecution. Difficulties which are now
surmounted, if at all, with infinite labour and
many tears; details which are now mastered, if
at all, by children who can have but little compre
hension of their meaning and purpose, and but
little motive to mental effort, would afford only
an easy and a pleasant exercise to minds more
mature and better prepared.”—Ibid.
“1 claim for the study of physics the recog
nition that it answers to an impulse implanted
by nature in the human constitution, and he
who would oppose such study must be prepared
to exhibit the credentials which authorize him
to contravene nature’s manifest design.”—On
the Importance of the Study of Physics as a
Branch of Education for all Classes. By
Professor Tyndall.
“Leave out the physiological sciences from
your curriculum, and you launch the student
into the world undisciplined in that science
whose subject matter would best develope his
powers of observation; ignorant of facts of the
deepest importance for his own and others’ wel
fare ; blind to the richest sources of beauty in
God’s creation; and unprovided with that belief
in a living law, and an order manifesting itself
in and through endless change and variety,
which might serve to check and moderate that
phase of despair through which, if he take an
earnest interest in social problems, he will as
suredly, sooner or later, pass.”—On the Educa
tional Value of the Natural History Sciences. By
Professor T. H. Huxley.
. “ J’aime les sciences mathfimatiques et phy
siques; chacune d’elles, 1’algfcbre, la chimie, la
botanique, est une belle application partielle de
l’esprit humain; Les Lettres. e'est Vesprit luimtme; l’6tude des lettres,Jc’estl’^ducation gfinfirale qui prepare h tout, l’iducation de l’ime.”—
Napoleon I., quoted by Dr. Hodgson.
“ Wenn uns miser Schulunterricht immer
auf das Alterthum hinweist, das Studium der
griechischen und latcinischen Sprache fordert,
so konnen wir uns Gluck wiinschen, dass diese
zu einer hoheren Cultur so nothigen Studien
I niemals riickgangig werden.”—Gothe.
�PREFACE.
The following pages contain the substance, with some alterations and
additions, of two Lectures lately delivered at the College of Preceptors, and
the writer seeks by the publication of them the suffrages of that larger audi
ence with which lies the ultimate decision in discussions of this kind.
The question of the curriculum is daily becoming more and more im
portant. The demand that it shall represent, in a far greater degree than
it has hitherto done, the wants and wishes, the active energies, and in
short the spirit, of the age, cannot be, and ought not to be, set aside.
This claim, which involves particularly the pretensions of physical science
to be represented in the curriculum, is much strengthened by the con
sideration, that science furnishes, when properly taught, a kind of educational
training of special value, as a complement to that of language. The writer has
attempted to show, that science teaches better, that is, more directly and
soundly, than any other study, how to observe, how to arrange and classify,
how to connect causes with effects, how to comprehend details under general
laws, how to estimate the practical value of facts. Having, however, dealt
out this measure of justice to science, he maintains that the difficulties
which lie in the way of the attainment of these valuable results, by means of
school education, have not yet been overcome ; and that even if they were, and
science were fully admitted into the curriculum,—which ought to be the case,
—that the classical and literary training is better adapted to the development
of the whole man than the scientific, and should therefore take the lead. In
pursuing this argument, he has been led specially to deal with two fallacies,
which, under a variety of forms, are extensively prevalent at present, and, by their
evil influence, tend very much to hinder the cause which they are, apparently,
designed to promote. The first is, That because there is so much to know in
the world, we are bound to try to make our children learn it all. The second is,
That because there is so much to do in the world, we ought to force all kinds of
business upon children’s attention beforehand, by way of preparation for it;
in other words, that the onine scibile and the omne facibile (to use a barbarous
Latin word) ought to be comprehended in every good curriculum of education.
If he has succeeded in exploding these fallacies, and in making good his own pro
position, that all true education involves, fundamentally, training, and training of
a kind that is quite incompatible with the claims of any system in which accumu-
B 2
�IV
lation is the first principle, and special preparation the second, he hopes to
gain the thanks of all judicious and really competent authorities in science; of
all who mean by teaching science, training the mind to scientific method, to
habits of investigation, and the diligent search after truth.
There can be little doubt that the recent Report on the results of classical
teaching in our public schools, and especially in the case of Eton, has done
much to strengthen the cause of those who wish to see a reform in the curri
culum. Few men, perhaps, at the head of public institutions have ever stood
in a more humiliating position than that occupied, about four years ago, by the
Head-Master of Eton, who, being under examination before the Commission on
Public Schools, could only say, in reply to the following pungent remarks
of Lord Clarendon, the chairman, that he was “ sorry —thus allowing the full
force of the charges implied. “Nothing can be worse,” said his Lordship,
“than this state of.things, when we find modern languages,geography,history,
chronology, and everything else which a well-educated English gentleman
ought to know, given up, in order that the full time should be devoted to the
classics; and at the same time we are told, that the boys go up to Oxford not
only not proficient, but in a lamentable state of deficiency with respect to the
classics.”
It is not to be wondered at, that those who were before discontented with
the established course of study in our public schools, became, after such a state
ment of facts, amply borne out as it was by the evidence, so indignant, as to
demand, in the interests of philanthropy as well as science, that the system
which had borne such fruits should be not only degraded, but deposed. This
violent reaction cannot, however, be sustained. The abuse must not be con
founded with the use. It may be true that very little besides classics is taught
at Eton, and that they are not learnt; but this is no argument against either
the theory or the practice of classical instruction. But while the present
writer, who has had long experience in teaching, defends generally that theory
and practice, he believes that the time is come for such a modification of its
working, at least in middle-class schools, as will admit of the honourable intro
duction of science into the curriculum. It is then as a friend, and not an enemy,
to science, that he has endeavoured to clear the ground of some of the frivolous
and damaging arguments which theorists have imported into the discussion,
and to plead that it shall be so taught as to make it a real mental exercise.
Thus introduced as a coordinate discipline, it would prove a most valuable ally
in education, and take its proper place among the great elements which are
moulding the civilisation of the age.
4, Kildare Gardens, Bayswater,
July 1, 1866.
�THE CURRICULUM OF MODERN EDUCATION,
AND THE
RESPECTIVE CLAIMS OF CLASSICS AND SCIENCE TO BE REPRESENTED
IN IT CONSIDERED.
From tlie time when the idea was first con out by Wisdom to build her house upon. The
*
ceived of interfering with the natural liberty structure, however, then, and for a thousand
of children, and setting them down on benches years after, remained unfinished ; and even at
or on the ground to “learn,” the question of the present day it must be acknowledged that
what they should be taught could not fail to Wisdom’s house of education is by no means
be one of great interest. An inquiry into the distinguished for symmetrical beauty and
details of the various curricula arranged for completeness. In the rivalry which, not un
the purpose of instruction by the wise men of naturally, arose between these two courses of
the different nations of antiquity, would no study, it would appear that the physical or
doubt elicit much that would be valuable for strict sciences were usually defeated; for,
the purpose of a writer on the History of either from indolence or distaste, the founda
Education, but opens up far too wide a field tion of the Trivium, to which precedence in
for our present limits. It may, however, be education was considered due, was generally
observed generally, in passing, that the scien so long in laying that the pupil rarely reached
tific or practical element seems to have pre what was then treated as the higher course.
vailed more in the primary schools of Egypt, Practically, indeed, in the lower schools, no
India, Phoenicia, and Persia ; the linguistic attempt was made to go much beyond
or literary in those of Judea, China, Greece, “ Grammar,” which, in connection with the
and Rome. Exception may, no doubt, be study of Latin alone at first, and subsequently
taken to this general statement, which, how of Greek, with a little reading, writing, and
ever, I must leave in its vagueness, without arithmetic, formed the common course for
even a momentary effort to estimate the com English boys in the fourteenth, fifteenth, and
parative value of the various curricula in their sixteenth centuries. If the curriculum of school
relation to the spirit and character of the education is to be considered as reflecting the
respective nations which adopted them ; and spirit of the age, which, however, is not, as we
without even contrasting, as educational pro see in our own case, a fair criterion, it would
ducts, Plato, the pupil of Socrates, on the one appear that physical science was in those
side, and Alexander the Great, the pupil of times, if not altogether neglected, at least
Aristotle, on the other.
treated with indifference; for not only in
Descending, then, as at a leap, to the com schools, but even in the universities, the quamencement of the Middle Ages, in Europe, we drivials were, as Harrison remarks, “ smallie
find the omne scibile comprehended, for the pur regarded.”} This state of things, continuing
pose of teaching, in two groups; the Trivium, almost unaltered to the seventeenth century,
consisting of Grammar, Logic, and Rhetoric ; roused the indignation of Milton, who denounces
and the Quadrivium, of Arithmetic, Music, Geo
metry, and Astronomy. These subjects were de * “Wisdom hath builded her house: she hath
hewn out her seven pillars.” (Prov. ix. 1.)
signated by Cassiodorus, the literary adviser and I f Harrison’s “Description of England,” prefixed to
friend of Theodoric, the “ seven pillars ” hewn Holinshed’s Chronicle, 1577.
�“ the haling and dragging of our choicest and commended, too, by their much closer connec
hopefullest wits to that asinine feast of sow tion with the interests and happiness of mankind.
thistles and brambles, which is commonly set The fact cannot be denied, that our general
before them as all the food and entertainment school curriculum includes much that is not
of their tenderest and most docible age
practically available in the world for which it
while Cowley, rather later, pleads for the is by theory a preparation, and excludes much
initiation of children into “ the knowledge that is ; that it rests mainly on the traditions
of things as well as words,” and for the “ in and experience of the past; and that it does
fusing knowledge and language at the same not appear to keep pace, pari passu, with the
time into them.” Both these eminent men actual life, the feelings, and hopes, and aspi
constructed schemes, on paper, for revolution rations of the present. If these admissions,
izing the existing curriculum in accordance with literally interpreted, are to be considered
their views. Inasmuch, however, as they were sufficient causes for condemnation, the ques
in no respect themselves the fruit of the system tion is at once decided, and society has only
they advocated, nor recommended it (I allude to order the delinquent for execution without
specially to Milton) by their own practice, delay. Before, however, the matter is thus
the public generally seems to have attached summarily disposed of, the defendant should,
little importance to their views, and certainly and indeed must, in all fairness, be allowed to
showed no desire to adopt them.
plead his cause at the bar of reason and com
After their days, the established system was mon sense. In the case of this as of other
occasionally complained of (notably by Locke, time-honoured institutions, it will probably be
and Clarke, and more recently by Sydney found that we are not so very much wiser
Smith); but within the last fifty years, various than our fathers as we may at first sight be
causes have tended to strengthen the assailants disposed to flatter ourselves. The very fact of
and give piquancy to the strife ; and at the pre the antiquity of an institution is, at all events,
sent moment, more than ever before, the advo a respectable plea, and should not be wantonly
cates of the old and new systems respectively rejected. It must, however, be admitted that
are pertinaciously presenting their claims to the this plea has not in our day the strength which
arbitration of the public. The maintenance it once had. Old institutions, of whatever
of a hostile feeling is, however, much to be kind, are nowrequired to prove that they deserve
deprecated. This question may be, it is to live, if that privilege is to be allowed them.
hoped, dispassionately discussed; and for
In the case before us, we have an extreme
myself, though advocating the retention of party of reformers, who without hesitation
much of the old system, I am, as will be seen, declare that the proper place for Classical
strongly impressed with the great claims of instruction in the curriculum is no place at
science, and disposed to recommend a fair all—who would not only dethrone it from the
and liberal compromise. I cannot but think position it has so long held, but thrust it
that a curriculum framed in such a way ignominiously forth. This is the not unnatural
as to retain the sound discipline of the old reaction against the unwarrantable assumption
classical course, and to embrace the vivifying on the other side, that the proper place of
influences of the scientific element, would prove classics in the curriculum is the whole cur
advantageous to both. Science, judiciously riculum ; that they alone constitute “ learn
and thoroughly taught, supplies a training of a ing
and that the most honourable and
different kind from that supplied by classics, lucrative positions in society ought to be
and of a kind especially adapted to correct the allotted, as a matter of course, to those who
defects of the latter. This has been, indeed, hold their certificate. Exaggerated preten
to some extent, admitted by the general intro sions, however, on whichever side they are
duction of mathematics into the curriculum. held, only injure the cause of those who main
It will, however, be shown that pure mathe tain them, and in the present case are espe
matics are not sufficiently comprehensive for cially unsuitable. For, as between the rival
the purpose. The observational and experi claims of language and literature on the one
mental sciences, besides being more generally side, and science on the other, there is surely
inviting as a study than mathematics, are re much to be said for both so true and so reason-
�able as to claim the respectful attention of all
fair and competent judges. It must never be
forgotten that out of those ages in which
science, properly so called, was unknown,
came forth the great teachers of mankind, the
pioneers, nay more, the efficient agents, by
words and deeds, in originating and carrying
on the civilization of the human race. /Phis
important work was accomplished by men
utterly unacquainted with geology, the steamengine, the electric telegraph, spectrum
analysis, or the dynamic theory of heat.
Without these means and appliances, or even
an atom of the spirit of which they are the
fruit,—without any of the enthusiasm of
modern physical philosophy,—statesmen and
warriors, heroes, patriots, and artists, of whom
all ages are proud, have so lived as to leave an
imperishable name behind them. Whether
the age of science will produce grander results,
has yet to be proved. On the other hand, it
is most reasonable that science too should, in
our day especially, claim its proper place
in education as a civilizing agent. It may
point with pride to what it has done and is
doing, and may without rebuke exclaim : “If
you need memorials of my power and influence,
look around you ; the results are everywhere.
Nay more, if, instead of mere details, dry facts,
and practical applications, you have a taste
for sublime speculations and theories, I can
furnish you with views into the distant and
the past almost unequalled for elevation, range,
and depth, and fraught with the profouudest
interest to the present and all future genera
tions.” We may therefore, without slavish
humility, bow reverentially before both these
claimants on our homage, and denounce
impartially the zealots and fanatics on either
side,—the men who audaciously, declare that sci
entific instruction is “ worthless,” and equally
those who stigmatize the classics as “ useless,”
—in the curriculum of modern education.
In dealing with the subject of my lecture,
I propose in the first place, to consider
generally the curriculum of modern education
for the middle classes, and to discuss some ot
the plans proposed for its reformation; and
secondly, to advocate the claims of classical
instruction to continue to hold the leading
place in it as a mental discipline.
The object we have in view is to discuss
the curriculum of modern education, as
far as the middle classes of society are con
cerned— excluding, on the one hand, those
whose instruction must, from circumstances,
be limited to the barest elements of learn
ing ; and those, on the other hand, whose
course is intended to terminate in a uni
versity career. The question then is—con
sidering the age in which we live, with its
immense accumulation, and wonderful appli
cations, of knowledge; considering too that
the longest life is too short for securing for
the individual man any large portion of this,
which constitutes the treasury of the race; and
that the immature faculties of the child can
grasp only a very limited portion of that
which is ultimately attained by the mau—
whether we do wisely in giving up any consi
derable portion of the small space of time
available for acquisition, to the attainment of
a kind of knowledge which appears, in com
parison with scientific and general information,
to be only slightly demanded by the wants
and the wishes of the age. If it is neces
sary, or even important and desirable, that
we should all attempt to know all things,
this question is at once settled by the exi
gencies of the case. Every moment of the
time devoted to instruction must, on that
assumption, be given up to the earnest and
unremitting pursuit of the “ things that lie
about in daily life;” and everything which
impedes or interferes with that pursuit must
be regarded as impertinent. It is, however,
perfectly clear that the attempt to force the
individual man to keep up with the intel
lectual march of the human race, must end in
utter disappointment; and, moreover, involves
a fatal misconception of the object which all
true education should. have in view. It can
not be too frequently repeated, that develop
ment and training, and not the acquisition
of knowledge, however valuable in itself, is
the true and proper end of elementary educa
tion, nor too strongly insisted on, that
he who grasps too much holds feebly, or,
as the French pithily express it, qui trop
em.brasse mal etreint. The fact that there is
a vast store of knowledge in the world is no
more a reason why I should acquire it all, than
the fact that there is an immense store of food
is a reason why I should eat it all. We may
mourn over the limitation of our powers, but
as our fate in this respect is quite inevitable, it
�is our duty, as rational creatures, to submit to sented in the former. The other principle
it, and to be satisfied with doing, if not all seems to be, that as men are often found
that we fondly wish, yet all that we can, and, “ unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek,”
what is more important, as well as we can. in regard to the circumstances in which they
1 cannot but think that the protest of the are actually placed in life, we should anticipate
high-minded and conscientious men who are this difficulty by making children acquainted
in our day aiming at the reform of the beforehand with “ the leading kinds of activity
school curriculum, would be much more whicji constitute human life”—in other words,
influential with the public if they would keep with all varieties of practical business. In
closely to the true issue in discussing this enforcing both these views, touching appeals
question. It is most desirable, certainly, that ad misericordiam are made by their supporters,
there should be a thorough reform; but it is based, first, on the cruelty of withholding from
equally desirable that the reform should be the child that knowledge of science which has
established on a sound basis, and that both become the inheritance of the race, and which
parties should co-operate in arriving at a wise he so much desires to have ; and again, on the
decision on this point.
criminal neglect of his teachers in not secur
It is much to be regretted that so many of ing him, by ample knowledge of practical
those who have handled the subject of the business, against the dangers into which, from
curriculum in the interests of philanthropy, ignorance and inexperience, he is not only
should be disqualified from treating it judi likely, but certain to fall. The theory, then,
ciously by a want of practical acquaintance with stated in its bare simplicity, is, that the boy
education. Very much at their ease, they con is to be provided by his education, first, with
struct airy and fantastic theories, founded not all scientific knowledge; and secondly, with
on what is practicable, but what is desirable ; all practical knowledge, as his proper equip
recommend them earnestly, as if they were ment for the battle of life.
the genuine fruits of experience, and too fre
That I may not, however, be suspected
quently reproach the hard-working teachers, of misrepresenting these theoretical views of
who, however much they may admire such the curriculum, I will now endeavour to ex
theories, cannot by any amount of labour hibit them, as taken from the works in which
realize them, and therefore feel themselves they are to be found.
aggrieved at having their actual educational
In the first number of the “ Westmin
product unfairly brought into comparison with ster Review,” published in 1824, we find
the highly-coloured results promised by the an article mainly devoted to the explanation
theorist. These writers, men, if you will, of and enforcement of Mr. Bentham’s “ Chrestobenevolent hearts, certainly of lively imagina mathia”* as a scheme of instruction which
tions, evince far too little sympathy with -(to use the reviewer’s words) should “ compre
the actual work of the practical teacher, with his hend the various branches of education which
arduous, long continued, little appreciated toils, are spread over the whole field of knowledge,
his never-ending struggle against the natural giving to each its due share of importance
volatility, ignorance, dulness, obstinacy, and with a view to the greatest possible sum of
sometimes depravity, of his pupils ; and com practical benefit.” It is curious to see the
prehend not the true vital organisation of that course of study proposed by Bentham, and
“ pleasing, anxious (professional) being,” which which has been extended by the enthusiastic
perhaps, after all, no earnest teacher ever resigns Mr. Simpson, in his work entitled “ The Philo
without some “ longing, lingering look behind. ’ ’ sophy of Education.”
Two leading principles seem to charac
The subjects proposed for the Chrestomathic
terize most of the theories which have been, in
modern times, proposed for the reform of the
* “ Chrestomathia: being a Collection of Papers
old curriculum. The first is, that the cur explanatory of the Design of an Institution proposed
to be set on foot, under the name of the Chrestoma
riculum ought to be considered as a counter thic Day-Schools, or Chrestomathic School, for the
part or reflex of the world of knowledge to Extension of the New System of Instruction to the
Higher Branches of
of the
which it is introductory, and that therefore Middling and HigherLearning, for the use Jeremy
Ranks of Life.” By
the omne scibile of the latter should be repre Bentham, Esq. London: 1816.
�9
curriculum of study in the case of boys, and
girls too, “ between the ages of seven and four
teen,” are as follows :—
Elementary Arts.—Reading, writing, arith
metic.
1 st Stage.—Mineralogy, botany, zoology, geo
graphy, geometry (definitions
only), history, chronology,
drawing.
2nd Stage.—Same subjects, with mechanics,
hydrostatics, hydraulics, pneu
matics, acoustics, optics.
Chemistry, mineral, vegetable,
animal.
Meteorology, magnetism, elec
tricity, galvanism, balistics.
Archaeology, statistics.
English, Latin, Greek, French,
and German grammars.
3rc? Stage.—Subjects of previous stages, and
mining, geology, land-survey
ing, architecture, husbandry,
including the theory of vegeta
tion and gardening.
Physical economics—i. e., the ap
plication of mechanics and che
mistry to domestic manage
ment, involving “maximization
of bodily comfort in all its
shapes, minimization of bodily
discomfort in all its shapes,”
biography.
4.th Stage.—Hygiastics (art of preserving and
restoring health), comprising
physiology, anatomy, patho
logy, nosology, dietetics, mate
ria medica, prophylactics (art
of warding off evils), surgery,
therapeutics, zohygiastics (art
of taking care of animals).
Phthisozoics (art of destroying
noxious animals : vermin kill
ing, ratcatching, &c.).
5th Stage.—Geometry (with demonstrations),
algebra, mathematical geogra
phy, astronomy.
Technology, or arts and manu
factures in general.
Bookkeeping, or the art of regis
tration or recordation.
Commercial book-keeping.
Note-taking.
Such is the scheme of the Chrcstomatbia,
which designedly omits (as Mr .’Bentham tells
us) gymnastic exercises, fine arts, applications
of mechanics and chemistry, belles lettres, and
moral arts and sciences. These are omitted
on various grounds which I have no time to
specify, except to mention one, which might
indeed have very suitably excluded five-sixths
at least of those enumerated—“time of life too
early.”
Mr. Simpson, approving of the whole of the
above curriculum, thought it still incomplete,
and therefore introduced the department of
Moral Science omitted by Bentham, as a
6th Stage.—History, government, commerce.
Political economy.
Philosophy of the human mind.
Risum teneatis, amici! Was anything more
extraordinary ever proposed in the whole his
tory of man ? This imposing display of the
triumphs of the entire human race is actually
presented as a curriculum of study for children
between seven and fourteen years of age 1
Such is the scheme lauded by a writer who
complains that “ hitherto the education proper
for civil and active life has been neglected, and
nothing has been done to enable those who are
to conduct the affairs of the world to carry
them on in a manner worthy of the age and
country in which they live, by communicating
to them the knowledge and the spirit of their
age and country.” This is the panacea, then,
proposed by the Chrestomathic school for the
cure of the educational maladies of the day.
Education, according to this view, is to con
sist in the administration of infinitesimal doses
of knowledge: a little drop of this, a pinch of
that, an atom of the third article, and so on ;
the names and technicalities of a great range
of subjects, and mastery and power over none.
Comment on such a scheme is unnecessary.
It condemns itself, as a method of teaching
superficiality and sciolism on system. Is
there any connection between such a course
and the “complete and generous education”
(these are Milton’s words) that “ fits a man to
perform justly, skilfully, and magnanimously
all the offices, both private and public, of peace
and war”? Are we not rather injuring than
aiding true mental development, and perhaps
moral too, by pretending to teach the sciences
when all the while we are teaching little beyond
their names ? Is such a scheme as this to super
sede the sound instruction and invigorating dis-
�10
eipline of the old school ? Is this the desidera
tum so eagerly looked for as a means of pro
ducing men capable of carrying on the affairs
of the world in “a manner worthy of the age and
country in which we live ”? I quite agree with
the most advanced of the reformers in ques
tion as to the need of reform ; but I hope they
will agree with me that this is not the direction
in which it is to be promoted, and that if the
new crusade is to be successful in its objects,
Messrs. Bentham and Simpson must not be
permitted to head the movement.
Another theoretical writer on modern edu
cation is Mr. Herbert Spencer, who, in his
work entitled “Education, Intellectual, Moral,
and Physical,” has presented us with a scheme
—evolved apparently out of the depths of his
own consciousness; for he does not profess to
have any practical experience as a teacher or
schoolmaster—so ingenious, and pretty, and
complete, that one can only sigh over the
limited capacity of human nature, which will,
it is to be feared, for ever prevent its being
realised. While agreeing for the most part
with Mr. Bentham, that a child can and ought
to learn—at least, what he calls learning—an
immense number of subjects, he insists with
great earnestness upon the principle (which,
if rightly interpreted, no one questions), that
education should prepare the pupil for the
duties of life; or, as he styles it, for “ the
right ruling of conduct in all directions, and
under all circumstances.” This, as he remarks,
—and everyone will agree with him,—is the
“ general problem, which comprehends every
special problemand he goes on further to
tell us, that the solution of it involves our
knowing “ in what way to treat the body; in
what way to treat the mind ; in what way to
manage our affairs ; in what way to bring up
a family; in what way to behave as a citizen;
and in what way to utilise those sources of
happiness which nature supplies; how to use
our faculties to the greatest advantage of our
selves and others; how to live completely.
And this being the great thing needful for us
to learn, is by consequence the great thing
which education has to teach.”
This is an epitome of Mr. Spencer’s views
on the curriculum, and it appears to be impos
sible to satisfy the conditions of his theory
by anything short of special preparation for
all the contingencies of life. My limits will
not allow of a close investigation of arguments
and illustrations, spread over nearly sixty
pages of his book; but a practical school
master has surely some right to inquire,
whether he is serious in adducing, as evidences
of defect in the school curriculum, nume
rous instances of persons injuring their eye
sight by over-study, and their limbs by over-ex
ercise ; of others suffering “ from heart-disease,
consequent on a rheumatic fever that fol
lowed reckless exposureand again, of
“ the engineer who misapplies his formulae for
the strength of materials, and builds a bridge
that breaks downof the shipbuilder who,
“ by adhering to the old model, is outsailed
by one who builds on the mechanically-jus
tified wave-line principle;” of the bleacher,
the dyer, the sugar-refiner, the farmer,
who fail more or less, because unacquainted
with chemistry ; and notably of the mining
speculators, who ruin themselves from igno
rance of geology; and the constructors of
electro-magnetic engines, “ who might have
had better balances at their bankers,” if they
had understood “ the general law of the cor
relation, and equivalence of forces.” Are all
these sad delinquencies, and many more,
recounted with terrible accuracy by Mr. Spen
cer, fairly to be laid to lack of service and
duty and sense in the schoolmaster ? Ought
the elementary schoolmaster—that is the real
question—to have furnished all hispupilsoffrom
seven to fourteen years of age with the know
ledge, and judgment, and common sense, and
experience, which are the proper safeguards
against the failures I have enumerated ? I
answer distinctly, that he is not responsible;
and I might say this much more strongly, but
that I respect Mr. Spencer’s earnestness and
true sincerity of purpose. But Mr. Spencer, who
is no schoolmaster himself, having, it would
appear, a most exalted opinion of the omnipo
tent and omniscient faculties of that func
tionary, demands still something more of him,
and regarding it as “an astonishing fact, that
not one word of instruction on the treatment
of offspring is ever given to those who will by
and by be parents,” that is, given by the
schoolmaster, lays that obligation also upon
him. Here too, it appears to me, the prac
tical schoolmaster has a right to ask, very
specifically, what kind of information “on the
treatment of offspring” Mr. Spencer would
�11
himself propose to give, as a sortof model school inefficient and enervating. General truths, to
lesson, to a child of twelve or fourteen years be of due and permanent use, must be earned.’’
of age ? The child is, to be sure, in a certain
The same principle would seem to decide
sense, “the father of the man’’; but it is coming the question of special preparation. The ex
down rather sharply upon him to apply this perience of those who have gone before us
literally, and make him leave his tops and cannot supersede our own ; and no conceivable
balls so early in life, and set about this unsea improvement, therefore, in the curriculum will
sonable preparation for the duties of paternity. ever provide for “ the right ruling of conduct
The general conclusion, then, from our re in all directions, under all circumstances ;” or,
view of Mr. Spencer’s theory is, that its due in other words, furnish a child beforehand
satisfaction involves the assumption that every with the mental and moral powers which are
man is to be his own doctor, lawyer, architect, to be developed in the actual life of the man.
bailiff, tailor, and, I suppose,—clergyman; so It is by living that we learn to live.
that the Chrestomathic scheme, which required
I have already suggested, that development
the child to learn the omne scibile, is supple and training, not the acquisition of knowledge,
mented, as not being comprehensive enough, however valuable in itself, is the true and
by Mr. Spencer’s, for learning also the omne proper end of elementary education. In a
*
facibile; and both must, I fear, be condemned, I general way it may be asserted that the former
not only as being utterly impracticable, (though is the main tenet of the old or conservative,
that might beasufficient objection,) butas being the latter of the new or reforming school. We
based on a total misconception of what ele shall have to dwell at some length on this
mentary education ought to be.t
point, that we may be prepared to recognise
The fact is, that however captivating to the the respective claims of various subjects to be
imagination the idea may be of communicating admitted into the curriculum. It is perfectly
to our pupil those immense stores of knowledge, true that neither view of necessity excludes
the possession of which distinguishes the pre the other. Any subject, however suitable in
sent from all previous ages, it is one which, itself for the discipline of the pupil, may be so
when brought to the test of experience, proves taught as to involve no good training ; and a
utterly illusory. A higher power than that subject presumptively unsuitable may, by the
of either the theoretical educationist, or the skill of the teacher, be made to yield the
practical schoolmaster, has ordained that into happiest fruits. Still the prominence given
the kingdom of knowledge, as into the king to these respective features in theory must
dom of heaven, we must enter as little children. materially affect the practice founded on them.
We must begin at the beginning, and learn I need not refer to the very etymology of the
the prima elementa each for himself, as all word “ education” to support the more oldchildren before us have done, gaining little ad fashioned view of the case. All will allow
vantage as individuals from the achievements that it means training or development; but
which science has effected for our race. We I would dwell for a moment on the meaning of
find, too, that if, from a desire to spare our the cognate term“ instruction,”in support of the
pupil the labour of learning fact after fact in same argument, and also to show that a real
apparently endless succession, we frame com and judicious teaching of science, not a ran
pendious formulae, rules, and general prin dom gathering together of scraps of “ useful
ciples, founded on other men’s mental expe knowledge,” does indeed involve a genuine dis
rience, and endeavour to feed his mind with cipline of the mind. The original meaning
them, they prove, in the early stage of instruc of instruere is to heap up, or pile up, or
tion, utterly indigestible, and minister no put together in a heap generally, and seems
proper nourishment for him. Mr. Spencer, in somewhat to countenance the Chrestomathic
another part of his book, justly remarks: notion ; but the secondary meaning, and that
“ To give the net product of inquiry, without with which we are more concerned, is “ to put
the inquiry that leads to it, is found to be both together in order, to build or construct”; so
that instruction is the orderly arrangement
* This phrase is, I am aware, non-classical. It is,
and disposition of knowledge, a branch of
however, to be found in Ducange.
t See Appendix, Note A.
mental discipline which all must acknowledge
�12
to be of great importance and value. But rate, and mature all the faculties, so as to
heaping bricks together, and building a house exhibit them in that harmonious combination
with them, are two very different things. The which is at once the index and the result of
orderly arrangement of facts in the mind im manly growth. In order to gain the ends I
plies a knowledge of their relation to each have specified, or indeed any considerable
other ; and, if carried out to a certain extent, number of them, it is essential that the studies
furnishes the ground-work for the establish embraced in the training course should be
ment of those general laws which constitute few. We cannot hope to have, in the early
what is properly called science. The knowledge, stage of life, both quantity and quality. In
however, of these mutual relations is gained by giving a preference to the latter, we do but
quiet, earnest brooding over facts, viewing them consult the exigencies of the case. At the
in every kind of light, comparing them care same time, it may be hoped that, because the
fully together for the detection of resemblances aim is to enrich and prepare the soil, the ulti
*
and differences, classifying them, experi mate harvest will be proportionately bountiful.
menting upon them, and so on. Allowing,
I have said that the subjects to be studied
then, to science, properly so called, all in the training course should be few. But I
that can be claimed for it as a con proceed further, and maintain that for the
stituent of the curriculum—and of its im purpose of real discipline it is advisable—nay,
mense value in education I shall have to even necessary—to concentrate the energies
speak presently—we must explode, definitely for a long period together on some one general
and finally, the notion that these valuable subject, and make that for a time the leading
results can be elicited by frittering away the feature, the central study of the course—
powers of the mind on a great variety of keeping others in subordination to it. By
subjects. Nor must we be led away by the giving this degree of prominence to some par
frequently meaningless clamour for “ useful ticular branch of instruction, we may hope to
knowledge.” Knowledge which may be un have it studied to such an extent, so closely,
questionably useful to some persons may so accurately, so soundly, so completely, that
not be useful at all to others; therefore, it may become a real possession to the pupil
although education is to be a preparation —a source of vital power, which the mind
for after life, yet it is to be a general, not “ will not willingly let die.” The concentration
a professional, preparation, and cannot pro of mind and range of research necessary for
vide for minute and special contingencies. this purpose obviously involve many of the
The object of education is to form the man, advantages I have recently enumerated. In
not the baker—the man, not the lawyer—the this way, too, the pupil will become fully con
man, not the civil engineer.
scious of the difference between knowing a
What then, we may now inquire, should be the thing and knowing something about it, and
main features of a training, as distinguished will be forcibly impressed with the superiority
from an accumulating, system of instruction ? of the former kind of knowledge. This con
It should, I conceive, aim at quickening and viction is of no small importance; for it gives
strengthening the powers of observation and him a clear, experimental appreciation of the
memory, and forming habits of careful agency—the measure and kind of intellectual
and persevering attention; it should habitu effort—by which the complete and accurate
ate the pupil to distinguish points of difference knowledge was gained, and thus can hardly
and recognise those of resemblance, to analyse fail to exercise a valuable influence upon his
and investigate, to arrange and classify. It character. He who has learned by experience
should awaken and invigorate the understand the difficulty of obtaining a thorough mastery
ing, mature the reason, chasten while it kindles of a subject, has made no trifling advance in
the imagination, exercise the judgment and re
fine the taste. It should cultivate habits of * The opinion of Locke confirms this view. His
words are:—“ The business of education is not, as I
order and precision, and of spontaneous, inde think, to perfect the learner in any of the sciences,
pendent, and long continued application. It but to give his mind that freedom, and disposition,
and those habits which may enable him to attain
should, in short, be a species of mental gym every part of knowledge himself.” (Some Thoughts
nastics, fitted to draw forth, exercise, invigo concerning Education.)
F
-
�13
the knowledge of himself. He has tested his preceded it; he must also keep it in recollec
power of struggling with difficulties, and ac tion, that he may observe its connection with
quired in the contest that command over his what follows. When he encounters difficulties
faculties, and that habit of sustained and which he cannot at the moment solve, he must
vigorous application, which will ensure success retain them in mind until the clue to their
in any undertaking. He who has only begun solution is gained. He must often retrace his
a study, or advanced but little in it, is a steps with the experience he has acquired in ad
stranger to that consciousness of strength and vancing, and then advance again with the added
range of mental vision which are involved in knowledge gained in his retrogression. It is only
the cultivation of it to a high point. The by thus wrestling—agonising, as it were—with
knowledge, thus thoroughly acquired and pos a subject, that we eventually subdue it, and
sessed as a familiar instrument by the pupil, make it ours, and a part of us. By such or
becomes not only a powerful auxiliary to his analogous processes, constantly and patiently
further attainments, but a high standard to pursued, we rise at last to the highest gene
which he may continually refer them.
*
ralisations ; so that a knowledge of the pheno
One of the chief reasons why the study of one mena of the material world is digested into
thing, one subject, or one book, is so valuable Science, a knowledge of the facts and matter
a discipline, is that the matter thus sub of language is elaborated into Learning, and a
mitted to the mind’s action forms a whole, knowledge and intimate appreciation of the
and by degrees reacts on the mind itself, and facts of human life ripens into Wisdom.
'creates within it the idea of unity and harmony. Everyone will bear me out in the remark,
Suppose, for instance, that we read a book that it is from those few books that we
with the view of thoroughly studying and read most carefully — that we “chew and
mastering it. We find, as a consequence of digest,” to use Bacon’s words—that we pe
the unity of thought and expression pervading ruse again and again with still increasing
it, that one part explains another, that what interest—that we take to our bosom a3 friends
is hinted at in one page is amplified in the and counsellers; it is from these that we are
next, that the matter of the first few sentences is conscious of deriving real nourishment for the
the nucleus (the oak in the acorn, as it were) of mind. Nor is it perhaps rash to assert that
the entire work. Thus the beginning of the book the general tendency, in our day, to dissipate
throws light upon the end, which the end in its the attention on all sorts of books, on all sorts
turn reflectsupon the beginning. He who studies of subjects, which just flash before the mind,
in this way must carefully weigh each word, and excite it for a moment, leave a vague impres
estimate its value in the sentence of which it is sion, and are gone, is stamping a character
a part, and its bearing on those which have upon the age which will render nugatory the
well-meant efforts which have of late been
made for the enlightenment of the popular
* The above argument is powerfully confirmed in
the following passage from an “ Introductory Lecture” mind, and the extension of useful knowledge.
by Professor De Morgan, delivered at University It is, I say, characteristic of the age, that we
College, October 17,1837:—
“ When the student has occupied his time in learn emasculate and enfeeble our powers by the
ing a moderate portion of many different things, vain attempt to know everything which every
what has he acquired—extensive knowledge or useful
habits? Even if he can be said to have varied body else knows ; and learn, in conformity to
learning, it will not long be true of him, for nothing the fashion of the times, even to feel it as a
flies so quickly as half-digested knowledge; and when reproach that we have not “dipped into,” or
this is gone, there remains but a slender portion of
useful power. A small quantity of learning quickly “skimmed over,” or “glanced at” (very
evaporates from a mind which never held any learn significant phrases) all the articles in all the
ing, except in small quantities; and the intellectual
philosopher can perhaps explain the following pheno newspapers, magazines, and reviews of the
menon :—that men who have given deep attention to day. We indolently allow ourselves to be
one or more liberal studies, can learn to the end of
their lives, and are able to retain and apply very carried on, in spite of our silent protest,
small quantities of other kinds of knowledge; while against our real convictions, with the shallow
those who have never learnt much of any one thing tide which is sweeping over the land; and,
seldom acquire new knowledge after they attain to
years of maturity, and frequently lose the greater' inasmuch as we do so, are neutralising the
part of that which they once possessed.” (p. 12.)
real interests of the cause we profess to be
�14
advocating, and preventing the formation
of valuable and useful judgments on any
subject whatever. If you consider with me
that this general dissipation is an evil, you
will also sympathise with the desire to prevent
the organization and establishment of the prin
ciple in the curriculum of elementary education.
A thousand times better, in my opinion, to
have the old hum-drum monotony, the cease
less drill, which ended only in preparing the
faculties to work to some purpose, when they
did work, on the problems of life, than the
counterfeit knowledge which can give an opi
nion on every subject because substantially
uninformed on any.
It is not, perhaps, too much to assert, that
concentration of mind on a few subjects is,
and ever has been, the only passport to excel
lence. All the great literary and scientific
men of all ages, whose opinions we value,
whose judgments are received as the dictates
of wisdom and authority, have acted on the
conviction, that the powers of the mind are
strengthened by concentration, and weakened
by dissipation.
*
The practical inference from the foregoing
remarks is, that in order to train the mind
usefully, concentration, and not accumulation,
must be our guiding principle; in other words,
we must direct the most strenuous efforts of
our pupils to the complete and full comprehen
sion of some one subject as an instrument of
intellectual discipline.
The next consideration, then, is, what the
subject submitted to this accurate and com
plete study ought to be. And here we come
again nearly to the point at which we set out,
and must now for ourselves renew the friendly
strife between the “ trivials” and the “ quadrivials” once more. I say “ friendly,” because
the claims of both are so reasonable, that it
really ought not to be very difficult to adjust
them, and no angry feeling therefore ought to
accompany the discussion. We have left the
theorists behind, and are now to settle such
questions as practical and experienced men,
with reference to their real merits, judicially,
and with some degree of authority.
On the general subject of the curriculum, I
will quote some remarks which I have lately
met with in a pamphlet by an able American
writer, apparently acquainted by experience
with his subject.
*
He is strongly opposed to
what we usually call the Classical System,
but candidly admits that its defenders have
hitherto had greatly the advantage of their
opponents in the line of argument they have
pursued. “Disagree with them,” he says,
“ as you may as to what studies go to make up
a liberal education, you must go to them for a
true definition of that training of mind in
which a liberal education consists.” As he is
one of the ablest advocates of the claims of
science, we may listen to what he says on
its behalf as a part of school education.
He assumes, then, as axioms these following
propositions:—
“1. That in the Science and Art of edu
cation we must study and follow nature,—that
we shall only be successful as far as we do.
“ 2. That there is a certain natural order
in the development of the human faculties ; and
that a true system of education will follow,
not run counter to, that order.
“ 3. That we may divide the faculties of the
mind, for the purposes of education, into
observing and reflective; and that in the order
of development the observing faculties come
first.
* See some very interesting illustrations in
D’Israeli’s “ Curiosities of Literature,” in the essay
entitled, “ The Man of One Book.” To these may be
added, as an instructive, though somewhat extra
vagant, specimen of the non-multa-sed-muUwn
principle advocated in the text, the following, taken
from the “ Foreign Quarterly Review” for 1841:—
“ Porpora, an Italian teacher of music, having
conceived an affection for one of his pupils, asked
him if he had courage to pursue indefatigably a
course which he would point out, however tiresome
it might appear. Upon receiving an answer in the
affirmative, he noted upon a page of ruled paper, the
diatonic and chromatic scales, ascending and descend
ing with leaps of a third, fourth, &c., to acquire the
intervals promptly, with shakes, turns, appoggiature,
and various passages of vocalisation. This leaf
employed master and pupil for a year; the follow
ing year was bestowed upon it; the third year there
was no talk of changing it: the pupil began to
murmur, but was reminded of his promise. A fourth
year elapsed, then a fifth, and every day came the
eternal leaf. At the sixth it was not done with, but
lessons of articulation, pronunciation, and declama
tion were added to the practice. At the end of this
year, however, the scholar, who still imagined that
he was but at the elements, was much surprised
when his master exclaimed, ‘ Go, my son; thou hast
* “ Classical and Scientific Studies, and the Great
nothing more to learn; thou art the first singer of
Italy, and of the world.’ He said true. This singer Schools of England.” By W. P. Atkinson, Cam
bridge (U.S.), 1865.
was Caffarelli.”
�15
“4. That individual minds come into the
wor'd with individual characteristics; often,
in the case of superior minds, strongly marked,
and qualifying them for the more successful
pursuit of some one career, than of any other.
“ 5. That the study of the material world
may be said to be the divinely appointed
instrument for the cultivation and development
of the observing faculties ; while the study of
the immaterial mind, with all that belongs to
it, including the study of language as the
instrument of thought, is the chief agent in
the development of the reflective faculties.”
Speaking in the interests of that reform in
the curriculum which is very decidedly needed,
I would frankly accept these propositions,
though the terms of some of them, especially
those of the fourth and fifth, might give a
caviller a favourable opportunity. Of one
point essentially involved in them, I have no
doubt; and that is, that any rational curriculum
of elementary study must be based on the fact
that the observing, are called into action before
the reflecting, faculties ; in other words, that
the food must be swallowed before it is
digested ; though 1 believe it to be an educa
tional fallacy to maintain that therefore no
food should be swallowed that cannot be
instantly digested. The general consideration
would, however, seem to justify us in carry
ing forward, before anything else is attempted,
the instruction which the child has already
commenced for himself, in the study of the
phenomena of the external world, and in that
of the mother tongue. Professor Tyndall has
shown, in his interesting lecture on the study
of Physics, that even the new-born babe is an
experimental philosopher, and improvises by
instinct a suction-pump to supply himself
with his natural food, and day after day, by
experiment and observation, makes himself
acquainted with the ordinary properties of
matter, acquires the idea of distance, sound,
and gravitation, and so on, and, by burning
his fingers and scalding his tongue, learns
also the conditions of his physical well being.
In this hand-to-mouth way the pupil in the
great school of nature begins his lessons, and
surely it is most natural that he should be
encouraged to continue this self-education,
and, under judicious guidance, he may very
properly be made acquainted with the things
“ which lie about in daily life,” and also be
trained to the study of that proper con
nection between things and words which is
the true basis of a good knowledge of his own
language. Such a course of instruction, such
“ lessons on objects,” will no doubt amuse and
interest the young natural philosopher, and may
be the means of eliciting, even quite early in life,
thosepredilectionsofwhichMr. Atkinson speaks
as the special characteristics of the individual,
and which, in certain cases, may furnish sug
gestions to be afterwards employed in con
ducting his education.
Having arrived at this point in the discus
sion of ray subject, I must make a confession ;
—which, however, is not humiliating, because,
though I have to speak of personal failure, I
am supported by the consciousness of honest
intentions. I have always been fond of
science in every shape, and well remember
the delight with which, when a boy, I
adopted as the pocket companions of my
leisure hours the little volumes of Joyce’s
“ Scientific Dialogues,” and Miss Edge
worth’s charming “ Harry and Lucy.” I
say this to show that in the experiments
which I made in teaching something that
might be called science to young children, I
was working con amore, and with a real desire
to succeed. But I found my young natural
philosophers somewhat difficult to manage.
As long as everything was new, and striking,
and amusing, they were attentive enough :
but as soon as anything like training was
attempted, as soon as I required perfect accu
racy in observing, and careful classification
and retention of results, my popularity waned
astonishingly. They were, for the most part,
satisfied with the attainments which they had
made in the knowledge of the external world
within the first three or four years of their
lives, and did not discover that “craving after
knowledge’’ which, I am told by Mr. Spencer
and others, is always exhibited by children
until it is for ever extinguished by the spectral
display of the Latin grammar, which, like the
famous Medusa’s head, turns every one that
looks at it into stone. According to my own ex
perience, the young natural philosophers gene
rally preferred choosing their own subject of
instruction, and their own arena for the exer
cise ; and that subject was what is usually
called play, and the arena the playground.
It is true enough that there is a great deal to
�]6
be learned of the properties of matter,—resist with this evening. Neither children nor men
ance, elasticity, action and reaction, the com naturally like the difficulties, the drudgery of
position of forces, &c.,—in playing at bat, any subject whatever. No practical teacher
trap, and ball ; but I doubt very much will pretend that they do. Yet these diffi
*
whether there is any natural craving after culties must be overcome, if the subject is to
such knowledge as the final cause of the game. be really learned. But we may test my posi
In general, I must say from experience that tion by reference to music. I might, of course,
it is as possible to make even abstract subjects, indulge in any amount of rhapsody about
such as arithmetic and grammar, quite as music,—its exquisite charms,—its universal
interesting to young children as those parts popularity, and so on,—but what verdict
of science which really call for mental effort, would a jury of little girls give on what is tech
and involve minute accuracy and care. Facts nically termed “practice,”and on the “gram
and phenomena certainly do interest the mar of music”? That “practice,” however, and
young; but science, as such, the knowledge of that “grammar, ” are the very foundation of the
the relations between them, does not. Practical excellent performance which so delights our
teachers are well aware of this fact, which ears and our taste, and without the one we
theoretical writers too often forget, or, most absolutely cannot have the other. I wonder,
indeed, whether, if we could collect all the
probably, do not know.
Because children attending a lecture on tears which have been shed by children re
natural science open their eyes very wide, and spectively learning the Latin grammar and
look intensely interested when they hear a the piano in two separate receptacles, the
loud bang, or see some of those striking ex music lachrymatory would not contain the
periments performed—often in a sort of a la\ larger quantity. And yet music is so delight
Stodare fashion—which form the stock-in- ful, and the Latin grammar so horridly dis
trade of the lecturer on, say oxygen and agreeable 1 To return, however, to my main
hydrogen gases, it is too hastily concluded argument.
that that would be the normal condition of
The early stage of life is doubtless the most
their attention to the science of chemistry in suitable time for improving and exercising
general. Look, however, at the same children the natural faculty of observation, and much
when the lecturer takes his chalk in hand, may be done at this time in preparing the
and endeavours, by a diagram of very simple mind for the great benefit which the proper
character, to make them understand the study of science is to confer upon it. But I
causes of the phenomena. The lack-lustre must protest against dignifying the desultory
eyes and the yawning mouth very soon tell us scraps of information thus acquired — the
that what we just witnessed was simple excite results of the process of taking up one sub
ment, a matter of the senses, nerves, and ject after another to keep the child in good
muscles mainly, and being connected with humour — the cakes and honey supplied
amusement, and therefore involving no mental to sweeten the youthful lips—by the name
exertion, caught the attention for an instant, of science; nor do I feel inclined to think
but was not in itself an element of mental that we have at last reached the long-sought
improvement. The moment the mind was desideratum in teaching, when a band of chil
called on, it obeyed the summons with just dren, in all the frolic and fun belonging to
as much alacrity as it usually displays their nature, gather handfuls of flowers, and run
when invited to dissect a diagram of up to the teacher to ask the names of them, and
Euclid. The assertion, that, as a general —to forget them as soon as named.
*
How
rule (and independently of the all-important ever, if this is science, I would certainly teach
question of what sort of a man the teacher is), it in the early stage of instruction. Children
children love science and hate language, is generally like this desultory style of skipping
another fallacy of the same kind as those
* Mr. Henslow’s interesting experiments in teach
we have been already so liberally dealing ing village children accomplished much more than
this; and, indeed, proves the applicability of the sub
* Thia is very pleasantly exemplified in Dr. Paris’s ject to the wants of the early stage of education. (See
Museum, vol. iii. p. 4, and Educational Times, Nov.,
ingenious little book, “Philosophy in Sport made
Science in Earnest.”
I860.)
�17
from subject to subject. It stimulates their
senses, brings them into contact with nature
herself in the open air, interests them in
her glorious variety and boundless fulness,
and thus supplies happy emotions; it calls
for little exertion on their part, does not
“bother their brains,” and is rarely the occasion
of tears or punishments.
*
If this is science, I
would teach it as a part of the training of the
observing faculties, a discipline which has been
too much neglected by the ordinary systems
and in the hands of a judicious teacher, out of
these random efforts real instruction may grow;
and the bricks thrown together in a heap, and
so far valueless, may, under the genial influ
ence of the educational Ainphion, rise up, like
the walls of the fabulous Thebes, into the form
of a harmonious fabric.
We must not, however, forget that our young
philosopher, who has learnt so much by him
self in the first two or three years of his life
by exercising his faculty of observation, also
developes, in the same space of time, eminent
powers as a linguist; and if we follow nature
in aiding and encouraging his researches in the
one field, it appears quite right to do the same
in the other. Indeed, the two faculties are
exactly adapted to assist each other ; for not
withstanding all that is said about the learning
of things as opposed to the learning of words,
there is a sense in which they are one and the
same, and it is very curious to see how Mr.
Spencer, for instance, in describing what he
evidently considers model lessons in elementary
science, speaks as if a great part of the object of
these lessons was to teach the accurate mean
ing of words. “The mother,” he says, “must
familiarize her little boy with the names of the
simpler attributes, hardness, softness, colour; in
* It is well, too, to encourage children to make
eollections of leaves, butterflies, Deetles, &c. Every
thing should be done to make the connexion
between teacher and pupils pleasant for both; and
therefore sympathy should be warmly evinced in
such pursuits as these. Professor Blackie has well
expressed these views in the following passage from
a lecture delivered in Latin, at the Marischal College,
Aberdeen:—“ Exeant in campos pneri, fluminum
cursus vestigent, in montes adscendant; saxa, lapides,
arbores, herbas, flores notent, et notando amare
discant; oculis non vagis, fluitantibus et somniculosis, sed apertis, Claris, firmis; auribus non obtusis
incertisque sed erectis atque accuratis rerum varietatem percipiant.” (De Latinarum literarum proestantia atque utititate, p. 13.)
t See Appendix, note B.
doing which she finds him eagerly help by
bringing this to show that it is red, and the
other to make her feel that it is hard, as fast
as she gives him words for these properties.”
There is much more to the same purport, which
I have no time to quote. But is it not singular
that so ingenious a man does not see that this
process, which he lauds so highly, is only a
sensible way of teaching, not science merely,but
the mother-tongue? The teacher is trying to get
the pupil to attach clear ideas to the use of
words; and, while professing to despise the
teaching of words, is in reality doing little
else; for words are, in a well understood sense,
the depositories of the knowledge, spirit, and
wisdom of a nation.
*
I am perfectly aware
that the pupil, while thus engaged, is learning
much more than mere words ; but I maintain
that he is also learning words while he is
learning things, and that the antithesis so
much insisted on is more specious than real.
However this may be, I quite approve of these
lessons on things, or lessons on words, which
ever they may be called, as a part of the ele
mentary stage of instruction, which may be
practically considered as terminating at twelve
years of age.
But this stage is also the most suitable for
learning the use of a foreign tongue, and, there
fore, to the elementary subjects which must,
as a matter of course, come into the cur
riculum—reading, writing, arithmetic, taught
at first by palpable objects, or counters;
geography, commencing with the topography
of the house and parish in which the pupil
lives ; history, made picturesque by oral teach
ing in such a way as to arrest the attention
and stimulate the imagination ; lessons on
objects as introductory to the rudiments of
science; word-lessons,t gradually extended
from the names of material objects to those of
moral and intellectual notions—should be added
the study of French. The lessons in this lan
guage should be eminently practical; accurate
pronunciation should be insisted on, and as
* He who completely knows a word knows all
that that word is or ever was intended to convey, its
etymological origin, its first meaning as fixed in the
language, its subsequent history, its varying for
tunes, and the idea it suggests to various classes of
persons.
f Hints for such lessons might be gained from
Wood’s Account of the Edinburgh Sessional School;
but better ones can easily be framed.
C
�18
rapidly as possible the actual practice secured. the Curriculum ; and henceforth the develop
This is the main point. At no period of life ment of the reflective faculties, and the acquisi
will so good an opportunity be found' for tion of habits of industry and hard work, are
doing this in an easy, natural way. The the main objects to be kept in view. This is
organs are in a flexible condition, the ear to be especially the stage of discipline ; disci
is apt at catching, the mouth at imitating, pline by means of Science (including Mathe
sounds ; and without even talking of grammar matics) and Language. The question now is,
(should such talk seem very alarming) a true which shall take the lead.
Vitiation into the language may be gained.
Science may, for our present purpose, be
All that has now been suggested appears to defined to be the knowledge of the laws of
be quite consistent with the principle above nature, as gained by reflection on facts which
recommended, of continuing the exercise of the have been previously arranged in an orderly and
faculties of observation and imitation already methodical manner in the mind, in accordance
commenced by nature.
with their natural relation to each other.
Such rudimentary lessons in science as have Every one must see that such a subject as
been proposed above, do not appear to involve this affords abundant scope for a life-long, and
much strict mental discipline ; nor do I believe, not merely a school, education. Considering,
for reasons which will presently be suggested, too, that this knowledge is not only deeply
that true science can advantageously be studied interesting in itself, but, being gained for the
by very young pupils.
*
There is, however, one very purpose of diffusion, adds greatly to the
subject, which might, perhaps, be taken as sum of human happiness and prosperity, the
the disciplinary study of the elementary stage, motives to its pursuit are indeed transcendantly
and with the greatest advantage. That sub powerful, so that it must be a matter of great
ject is Arithmetic, which, ifjudiciously taught, concern to all to secure for those who are to
involves a genuine mental discipline of the pursue it, even in a subordinate degree, a worthy
most valuable kind ; and though really abstract training.
in its nature, is capable of exciting the live
If science, then, is to constitute a real
liest interest, while it forms in the pupil habits discipline for the mind, much, nay every
of mental attention, argumentative sequence, thing, will depend on the manner in which
absolute accuracy, and satisfaction in truth as it is studied. In the first place, it is to be re
a result, that do not seem to spring equally membered that (to use the oft-quoted phrase)
from the study of any other subject suitable to the pupil is about to study things, not words ;
this elementary stage of instruction.
and therefore treatises on science are not to be
At twelve years of age the pupil may be in the first instance placed before him. He
considered as entering on the second stage of must commence with the accurate examination
(for which he has been partially prepared by
* It is only fair to place in view here the opinions the first stage of instruction) of the objects and
on this point of Dr. Carpenter and Mr. Faraday, to
whose judgment on any subject great deference is phenpmena themselves, not of descriptions of
due; only adding, that I should attach more value to1 them prepared by others. By this means not
their opinions on teaching men, to which they are |
accustomed, than on teaching children, to which, as only will his attention be excited, the power
far as I know, they are not accustomed. In this of observation, previously awakened, much
matter as in others referred to before (see p. I strengthened, and the senses exercised and
13), going through with a thing is very different
from merely beginning it, or touching it at special disciplined, but the very important habit of
selected points. Have these gentlemen taught children doing homage to the authority of facts
hour after hour, year after year?
“ At ten years old a boy [and therefore the average rather than to the authority of men, be initiated.
of boys] is quite capable of understanding a very These different objects and phenomena may be
large proportion of what is set down for matricula
tion at the London University under the head of placed and viewed together, and thus the
Natural Philosophy.” (Dr. Carpenter's Evidence mental faculties of comparison and discrimina
before Commission on Public Schools, vol. iv. p. 364.) tion usefully practised. They may, in the next
. “ I would teach a little boy of eleven years of age
ft. e. the average boys of eleven?] of ordinary intel place, be methodically arranged and classified,
ligence, all these things that come before classics and thus the mind may become accustomed to
in this programme of the London University, i. e.
mechanics, hydrostatics, hydraulics, optics,” &c. an orderly arrangement of its knowledge.
(Mr. Faraday's Evidence, vol. iv.p. 378.)
Then tlie accidental may be distinguished from
�19
the essential, the common from the special, and
so the habit of generalization may be acquired ;
and lastly, advancing from effects to causes,
or conversely from principles to their necessary
conclusions, the pupil becomes acquainted
with induction and deduction—processes of
the highest value and importance. Every one
will allow that such a course as this,
faithfully carried out, must prove to be a
very valuable training. It would not, in
deed, discipline the mind so closely as pure
mathematics, yet its range is wider, and
it is more closely connected with human in
terests and feelings. It is no small advantage,
too, that it affords, both in its pursuit and its
results,—both in the chase and the capture,—
a very large amount of legitimate and generous
mental pleasure, and of a kind which the pupil
will probably be desirous of renewing for himself
after he has left school. After all, however, it
will be observed that, while the study of the
physical sciences tends to give power over the
material forces of the universe, it leaves un
touched the greater forces of the human heart;
it makes a botanist, a geologist, an electrician,
an architect, an engineer, but it does not make
a man. The hopes, the fears, the hatreds and
the loves, the emotions which stir us to heroic
action, the reverence which bows in the presence
of the inexpressibly good and great; the sen
sitive moral taste which shrinks from vice and
approves virtue ; the sensitive mental taste,
which appreciates the sublime and beautiful
in art, and sheds delicious tears over the
immortal works of genius—all this wonderful
world of sensation and emotion lies outside
that world which is especially cultivated by
the physical sciences. This is no argument,
of course, against their forming a proper, nay
an essential, part of the curriculum, but it is an
argument against their taking the first place.
They are intimately’connected, of course, with
our daily wants and conveniences. The study
of them cultivates in the best way the faculties
of observation, and leads naturally to the for
mation in the mind of the idea of natural law,
and so ultimately to investigations and sugges
tions of a very high order, in the pursuit of which
it is sought to define the shadowy boundary be
tween mind and matter, or to reveal to present
time the long buried secrets of the past. But
in order to attain at last these eminent heights
of science, the preliminary training must be
rigorous and exact. It must embrace the
difficult as well as the pleasing and amusing
—that which requires close and long-con
tinued attention as well as that which only
ministers to a transient curiosity. It must
be based on the “ firm ground of experi
ment,” and be ind .pendent of mere book study,
which, it has been well observed, is, in rela
tion to science, only as valuable, in the absence
of the facts, as a commentary on the Iliad
would be to him who had never read the poem.
We may assent then, on the whole, without
hesitation, to the wise and careful judgment
passed on the study of physical science as a part
of the Curriculum by the Public School Com
missioners in their report. “ It quickens,’’they
say, “ and cultivates directly, the faculty of ob
servation, whichin very many personslies almost
dormant through life, the power of accurate and
rapid generalisation, and the mental habit of
method and arrangement; it accustoms young
persons to trace the sequence of cause and effect;
it familiarizes them with a kind of reasoning
which interests them, and which they can
promptly compreheud ; and it is perhaps the
best corrective for that indolence which is the
vice of half-awakened minds, and which shrinks
from any exertion that is not, like an effort of
memory, merely mechanical.” In spite, then,’
of Dr. Moberly’s denunciation of such studies as
“worthless,” and as “giving no power” in edu
*
cation, 1 maintain that it is utterly impos
sible to exclude a subject with pretensions like
these from our curriculum. They must and will
occupy a considerable space in it—they deserve
to do so. For reasons, however, already stated,
I would not give them the post of the highest
distinction, which ought to be reserved for the
studies which exercise, not special faculties,
but the whole man ; not the man as a profes
sional and with a utilitarian end in view, but
as a citizen of the world, as one who is to
meet his fellow men and to influence their
decisions upon the difficult and complicated
problems of society.!
* “ In a school like this (Winchester), I consider
instruction in physical science, in the way in which
we can give it, is worthless......... A scientific fact....
is a fact which produces nothing in a boy’s mind....
It leads to nothing. It does not germinate; it is a
perfectly unfruitful fact..........These things give no
power whatever.” (Evidence before Commission on
Public Schools, vol. Hi. p. 344.)
f See Dr. Johnson’s opinion, Appendix C.
�20
Some think that pure mathematics should
occupy this central post of honour. A
moment’s consideration, however, will show
that the study of algebra, geometry, the
calculus, <fcc., not only does not embrace
those topics of common interest which are
essential for our purpose; but has a special
and limited office to perform — I mean, of
course, independently of their practical appli
cations. Lord Bacon has judiciously summed
up their special functions. “ They do,” he
says, “ remedy and cure many defects in the
wit and faculties intellectual ; for if the wit be
too dull, they sharpen it; if too wandering, they
fix it ; if too inherent in the sense, they abstract
it. So that, as tennis is a game of no use of
itself, but of great use in respect it maketh a
quick eye, and a body ready to put itself into
all postures ; so with mathematics, that use
which is collateral and intervenient is no less
worthy than that which is principal and in
tended.” These words aptly characterise the
advantages of the study of mathematics, and
point out their proper office in education.
They cannot, from their very nature, exercise
a formative power over the whole mind ; but
they are very profitably employed in correcting
certain defects, and in teaching, as scarcely
anything else can teach, habits of accu
racy. They call into play but few of the
faculties ; but these they exercise rigorously,
and therefore usefully. It has been objected
to them, that when pursued to any considerable
extent, without the counterpoise of more gene
ral studies, they become particularly exclusive
and mechanical in their influence; but this
perhaps can hardly be considered as an essen
tial characteristic. On the whole, however, it
can scarcely be maintained that mathematics
will serve as the basis we require for our educa
tional operations, though no education can be
considered as complete which excludes them.
Having then shown that, notwithstand
ing the great value both of physics and of
mathematics in education, they are too special
in their application to serve as the central
subject in our curriculum, we turn once more
to language, and especially to the Latin lan
guage which I should propose as the exer
cising ground best adapted for the intellectual
drilling of our young soldier. Greek, in the
case of those whose school education is to
terminate at sixteen years of age, must, I
think, be displaced in favour of the prac
tical claims of German. This concession, and
this only, would I recommend making to pub
lic opinion. And it is the less necessary to con
test this point, as nearly all the disciplinary
advantages which so eminently characterise the
study of the classical languages may be gained
from the study of Latin alone. It may then,
I conceive, be fairly maintained that the
place which classical instruction holds in the
curriculum of English education is not due
to prejudice, as some believe; nor to ignorance
of what is going on in society around us, as
others pretend; but to a well-judged estimate
of its importance and value as a discipline for
the youthful mind, and as an element of the
highest rank among the civilising influences of
the world.
This study may be considered under two
aspects, the language itself and its literature.
My first proposition is that the study of the
Latin language itself does eminently discipline
the faculties, and secure, to a greater degree than
that of the other subjects we have discussed,
the formation and growth of those mental
qualities which are the best preparatives for
the business of life—whether that business is
to consist in making fresh mental acquisitions,
or in directing the powers, thus strengthened
and matured, to professional or other pursuits.
Written language consists of sentences, and
sentences of words. In commencing the study
of a language, we may consider these words
as things, which we have to investigate and
analyse. They possess many qualities in
common with natural objects, and may be
therefore treated in a somewhat similar way.
They have material qualities; they can be
seen — they can be named (their sound is
their name)—they can be compared together
—their resemblances and differences discrimi
nated, and arrangements or classifications of
them made in accordance with observed simi
larity or difference in form. The memory,
too, is practically and systematically exer
cised. The paradigms of inflexions must be
accurately learnt by heart, and so familiarly
known that the constant comparison between
them as standards, and the varying forms
which arise for interpretation, may be spon
taneous and easy. And these acts of com
parison are themselves of great value, and
tend to cultivate accuracy of judgment: the
�21
very blunders made are instructive: the half when placed in juxtaposition with words
perception induced by indolence must be of our language, or when viewed in connec
corrected by increased labour. The attempt tion with cognates of their own, capable of
at evasion ends in a more complete reception ; affording vivid illustrations of the methods
hence a moral as well as a mental lesson. Thus, and artifices by which languages are formed.
acts of attention, observation, memory, and Hence arise exercises in derivation, or tracing
judgment are called forth; and these acts, by of words up to their roots, and in analysis,
being performed numberless times, grow into or breaking up the compounds into their
habits. Again, these words can be analysed, several components. These exercises in deri
separated into their component parts, and these vation cultivate moreover, when properly car
parts severally examined, and their functions ried out, the habit of deducing the secondary
ascertained. Conversely, we may employ the and figurative senses of words from the pri
synthetic process. We may fashion these mary and literal. Such an exercise leads the
elements in conformity with some given model, pupil beyond the boundaries of mere language.
and thus adapt them to some given end. By In pursuing it, he learns to study the mode
closer investigation and comparison, affinities in which the early stages of society formed
before unperceived are traced and appreciated, their conceptions, and to notice how, as
the transformation of letters detected, and civilization advanced, the language too bore
the foundation laid for the science of Philo evidence of the change. Thus the word guberlogy. It should be observed, that all these nare primarily means to pilot a vessel; second
operations or experiments (for so they may be arily, to direct the vessel of the state, to
*
called) are performed on facts—on objects (a govern
But words, in themselves vital organisms,
word is as much an object as a flower)
directly exposed to observation; that they are though frequently the life is rather latent than
at the same time simple in their nature, and visible, are also to b3 considered in their com
though requiring minute attention, and so bination in sentences. Their vitality now
forming the habit of accuracy, are evidently becomes intensified. The original author,
within the competency of a child. It is no speaking to men of his own nation, and aptly
small advantage that the means of training employing the resources of his craft, had by
the mind to such habits are always within a kind of intellectual magnetism converted
reach, and available to an unlimited extent; the neutral and indifferent into the active and
and not, as is often the case with respect to significant, and constrained all to cooperate in
physical objects, adapted to elicit somewhat effecting his great purpose of speaking out to
similar exertions, obtained with difficulty, and other minds. And there before the eyes of
therefore, perhaps, only heard of, and not seen. our pupil is the result. But it does not speak
But the attention of the pupil, at times out to him. That sentence, beginning with a
necessarily occupied with the accidents or in capital and ending with a full stop, is a body
flexions—the characteristic point of difference with a soul in it, with which he has to com
between his own and the Latin language—is municate. But how to do this? His eye
at others directed especially to what we may passes over it. It looks unattractive, dark,
call the being of each word, the idea which it and cold. Soon, however, something is seen
is intended to convey or suggest. And now in the words or their inflexions, which he
these words, lately treated as simply material, recognises, by a kind of momentary flash, as
inanimate, and dead—anatomical “ subjects” significant. The soul within begins to speak
—are to be considered as invested with a kind to him ; and he catches some faint conception
of physiological interest, and as exhibiting
* Tnis
phenomena of life whose nature it becomes interestingsort of investigation, often opens a very
field of inquiry. Thus the word virtue,
important to study. Our pupil’s interest in in different stages of the Roman history, meant suc
cessively, active physical courage or manhood, and
them, viewed under this aspect, cannot but be
active moral courage, or virtue ; while later, in
much augmented. Words are now no longer Rome’s comparatively degenerate days, virtu signified
things merely, but significant symbols of ideas. a taste for the fine arts! a pregnant commentary on
people. That people, however,
These little organisms, in one sense mere the character of the has already begun to restore the
it may be remarked,
torpid aggregations of matter, are in another, original meaning of the word.
�22
of what it would reveal. As he still gives heed, described, can only be accomplished by <5ne
other points show symptoms of life, and the who is armed with grammatical power. With
lately brute and torpid mass becomes vocal out this, the efforts made to communicate with
and articulate. One after another the words the soul of the author must be feeble and
kindle into expression ; clause after clause is ineffectual. It is one of the special objects of
disentangled from its connection with the the course I am advocating, to cultivate this
main body of the sentence, and appreciated faculty, because in doing so we are in fact cul
both separately and in combination, until at tivating to a high degree the reasoning powers
length a thrill of intelligence pervades the of the pupil. The construction of words in a
whole, and the passage, before dark, inani sentence does not depend upon arbitrary laws,
mate, and unmeaning, becomes instinct with but upon right reason, upon the exact cor
light and life.
respondence between expression and thought,
By these and similar processes, which it is and therefore “ good grammar,” as has been
needless to specify, the pupil learns to apprehend well observed, “ is neither more nor less than
his author’s meaning, though perhaps at first good sense.”*
only obscurely. The next stage in his training
A wise teacher—one who wishes to quicken,
is to find wordsand phrases in his native tongue and is anxious not to deaden, his pupil’s mind—
suited to express it. To do this adequately, he will not, of course, force upon him those indi
must not only ascertain the meaning of each gestible boluses, the technical rules and defini
term, but conceive fully and correctly all the tions of syntax, before training him to observe
propositions that constitute a complete sen the facts on which the rules are founded ; but
tence, in their natural connection and interde will accustom him to the habit of reasoning only
pendence ; he must observe the bearing of the in the presence offacts, which is so valuable
previous sentences on the one under considera at all times. The habit of reasoning on the
tion, and the ultimate point to which all are construction, the syntax of one language, is,
tending. Now, in order to convey perfectly of course, generally applicable to others ; and
to others the meaning, which he has himself its practice in connection with Latin tends by
laboriously acquired, he must not only have an amount of experience which countervails
made an exact logical analysis of the sentence, all theory, to prepare the pupil for learning
so as to see what he has to say, but must his own language thoroughly.
exercise his judgment and taste (not to say
In addition to the grammatical advantage
knowledge) on the choice of words and just named, there are two others I would men
phrases which will best answer the purpose, tion, which prove that learning Latin is a
and truly represent the clearness, energy, or good preparation for the better knowledge of
eloquence of the author. To do this fault the mother tongue. The one is, that as so large
lessly requires of course the matured judg a part of the vocabulary of the English lan
ment and refined taste of the accomplished guage is derived from the Latin, either directly,
scholar; but the very effort involved in the or indirectly through the French, no accurate
attempt to grasp the spirit of the author, to study of the former can be accomplished
rise to the elevation of his thoughts, and to gain without a fundamental knowledge of Latin.
the sympathy of others for them by an ade According to Archbishop Trench, thirty per
quate and worthy representation of them in
his native language, cannot but elevate his
* As the analysis of sentences is now become a
own mental stature. “ We strive to ascend,
regular part of the study of English in all good
and we ascend in our striving.”
schools, I would strongly recommend its also being
The advantages of such a course as I have made ancillary in the study of Latin. Lessons on
a sentence,
and
now sketched must be acknowledged to be the essential elements of predicative,on “subject” and
“predicate,” and on the
attributive,
very great, although only the language is as other relations (such as may be found admirably dis
Mason English Grammar),
form
yet under consideration. But there are two or played in of the ’steaching of Latin, asshould do of
the basis
they
three other points that must not be omitted. English, syntax. Their application to Caesar, Cicero,
The first of these is the value of the strict or Virgil, would be not only most valuable in itself
as mental training, but would greatly lessen the diffi
grammatical analysis required. The process culties felt by a boy in dealing with complicated
of eliciting light out _of darkness, before constructions which are new-Jto him.
�23
cent, of the vocabulary actually used by our
authors is derived from the Latin; and the
proportion is still greater, if we analyse the
columns of our English dictionary, where the
words are what is called “ at rest.” Indeed,
to so great a degree have we admitted these
aliens into our language, that we have learnt
to attach Latin prefixes and suffixes to pure
English roots, so as to form new and hybiid
compounds. But further,—and this point is
less obvious than that just adduced,—as almost
all our greatest authors were trained in the clas
sical school, both their vocabulary and phrase
ology, their language and their thoughts,
bear a characteristic stamp upon them which
can only be fully appreciated by those who
have undergone a similar training. It is not too
much to say that many exquisite graces, both
of thought and expression, in the works of
Bacon, Milton, Sir T. Brown, Jeremy Taylor,
Sir W. Temple, Gray, Young, Cowper, and
others, must elude the notice—and so far fail in
their object—of a reader not qualified to meet
the authors as it were on their own ground.
*
And may I add that, as far as my own observa
tion goes, by far the most enthusiastic lovers
of our own language and literature are the
votaries of classical learning. They love more
because they can appreciate better.
But it will be thought that I have sufficiently
pleaded the cause of Latin as fai as the lan
*
guage is concerned. I must, therefore, devote a
few words to its literature. In a course such as
I have proposed, and which I would commence
at 12, with the idea of carrying it on up to
the age of 16, and employing in it half the
hours of every school day, and which would
comprehend, besides the study of the lan
guage, such cultivation of geography, history,
* Examples are numberless: just three or four
occur at this moment. Take Milton—
“ Satan exalted sat, by merit raised
To that bad eminence.”—(Par. Lost, ii. 5.)
“ The undaunted fiend what this might be admired ;
Admired, not feared.”—(Par. Lost, ii. 677.)
“ That wise and civil Roman, Julius Agricola.”
(Areopagitica.)
“ Sadness does, in some cases, become aChristian, as
being an index of a pious mind, of compassion, and a
wise, proper resentment of things.”—(Jeremy Taylor.)
‘‘ Prevent us, 0 Lord, with thy most gracious favour.”
(Book of Common Prayer.)
“ This proud man affects imperial sway.”—(Dryden.)
It is obvious that a mere English scholar, unedu
cated in classics, would not, of himself, see the exact
meaning of the words in italics.
archaeology, <fcc., as would be required for the
elucidation of the text, and also the parallel
study of English literature, we could not hope
to read many authors. Indeed, faithful to
the principle, multum non multa, I would not
even attempt it. A selection of the best might
be made, to be studied on the principle that
they were to be actually known, not merely
“ gone through,”* by means of which not only
would the pupil profit by the invigorating dis
cipline I have described, but be subjected to
the enlarging and refining influence which
would place him in communion with some of
the master spirits of antiquity, and therefore
give him an introduction to those great authors
of all modern times whose labours have tended
to form the civilization of Europe. In no
other way can he so well be introduced to the
commonwealth of letters, and be made free
to avail himself of its privileges. The fact
that these finished works of literary art still
survive amongst us, as real substantial powers
whose influence cannot be gainsaid, is a won
drous proof of their merit as models of com
position. They present us with histories which
still enlighten and instruct men in the art of
government, with oratory which still speaks
in trumpet tones to the human heart, with
poetry still “musical as is Apollo’s lute”; in
short, with matter which, however now dispar
aged, has served in successive ages both to
furnish men with thoughts, and to teach them
how to think; so that in truth, though styled
dead, they are, in the highest sense, ever liv
ing ; having (to use Hobbes’s eloquent expres
sion) “ put off flesh and blood, and put on
immortality.”
But I must pass in review a few of the
objections commonly taken against the posi
tions I have maintained in this paper.
1st. Some object to the very principle of a
central or fundamental study, and denounce it
as a fundamental fallacy. Since it is admitted,
they say, that it is not so much the subject as
the manner of learning it that constitutes the
discipline, one subject is as good as another ;
and as it is a matter of great importance to
interest the pupil, we had better adopt sub
jects pro re nata, which seem likely to accom
plish that object, without respect to their rank
in the circle of knowledge. We may thus se
* See Appendix, D.
�cure the object in view without the difficulty,
perplexity, hard work, and sometimes even
tears, which are attendant on a stricter disci
pline, and which often set the pupil against
learning altogether. To refute this objection,
I should have to repeat much of my previous
argument, in which you will remember I con
tended for the upholding of one subject, or at
least very few subjects, on the principle that
while, with regard to some, we may be con
tented with a general knowledge, there should
be one at least which should be learned as well
as possible, and serve as a sort of standard of
comparison. I accept, however, these objec
tions as valid, on condition that those who
uphold them will promise that their pupils
shall not shirk the drudgery, the drill, which
must be undergone in the learning of any sub
ject whatever, and which often constitutes the
most valuable part of the process; that in
teaching music they will strictly require the
“ practice” and also the “grammar of music
in teaching languages, perfect grammatical
analysis; in teaching science, rigidly close
attention to details, however irksome, and
to every step of the reasoning properly de
duced from them. If the objectors accept
this test, they surrender the position that the
study is to be accommodated to the pupil, and
therefore tacitly allow the principle of a train
ing subject; if they do not, they are driven
back upon the Chrestomathic curriculum, and
the idea of real education, as I understand the
term, is given up.
2nd. It is maintained that if a leading sub
ject is desirable, modem languages, or our
jown, would more usefully occupy that position.
First, with regard to the modern languages.
Their eminent claims to a high place in our
curriculum are at once admitted. They have a
great practical value as languages; and their
literatures are brilliant and attractive, and
fraught with modern interest. Both French
and German, too, have affinities with English,
the one as being a daughter of that paternal
stock from which we derive so much, and the
other as belonging to the great Teutonic
family of languages, of which ours is also a
member. Then, in consequence of the in
creasing intercourse between nations, they are
becoming every day more and more useful;
and lastly, involving as they do many of the
advantages claimed for Latin, they are much
more easily and rapidly acquired; These are
valid reasons for admission into the curriculum,
but not for taking the leading place in it. As
to French, so many of its words resemble our
own, and its construction is apparently so
simple and transparent, that a pupil is
tempted to guess or scramble at the meaning,
rather than carefully approach it by thought
ful consideration, as he must do in Latin.
Without dwelling on this as an evil in itself,
I must insist on it as a great disadvantage in
a training subject. A certain amount of
resistance, enough to encourage effort, and not
enough to intimidate, is an advantage rather
than otherwise to the pupil. It serves to detain
him awhile in face of the difficulty, and gives
him the opportunity of estimating both it and
the resources with which past experience has
furnished him for its solution, and thus trains
the mind to encounter successfully other diffi
culties. On the other hand, as we avowedly
learn French and German more for practical
than literary purposes, more as means than
ends, the less resistance we meet with, the
more rapid the acquisition, the better. The
training subject is, however, in a certain sense,
the end itself; and losing time in acquiring
it may be an ultimate gain. The same general
remarks apply, though less strictly, to Ger
man, which I have recommended as a sub
stitute for Greek.
Secondly, as to the claims of English to
occupy the leading place. The main objec
tion to this claim, as far as the language
itself is concerned, is that we are, as is some
times said of a material object, too near to see
it. We must stand at some distance from it,
in order to comprehend its form and features,
or, which is often easier, study the form and
features of something else of the same kind,
and then apply the knowledge thus gained to
the case in point. Those who ask us to study
the general principles of grammar, by the
acknowledgment of all so valuable, in our
own language first, pretend that they are
substituting the easy for the difficult; but it
is not so. The real difficulty is to abstract the
clear and transparent medium in which our
ideas circulate, and to view it by itself. So
with the study of human nature; obvious as
it seems to look at home, to know ourselves,
to watch the operations of our own hearts and
minds, yet general experience admits that it
�25
is far easier to gather its principles from valuable, so indispensable, as a means to the
observing the actions of other men projected, end they have in view, the attainment of com
as it were, before our view, and favourably plete command over them, that they recommend
adapted for our examination. Our own lan constant repetition of the same exercise until
guage, then, is to be the object, rather than it is thoroughly mastered, rather than rapid
the means, of our pupil’s training. Through advancement to the next stage of knowledge;
out his entire course his training in another so that for a while—to the horror of the objec
language is preparing him most effectually to tors just quoted—they treat the means as if
learn his own, and the practical application of they were the end. The usual success of this
the disciplinary power should keep pace with policy may perhaps be allowed to pass as an
its attainment.
argument for its continuance. This view, of
Another objection against the spirit of the course, does not satisfy those who think that
method I would recommend has been taken, everything should be made pleasant to a child
and may be deserving of a brief treatment. —that he should have no experience of diffi
It is said that much of what I have described culty, or trial, or ennui.
*
Such is not, how
is simply “drill,” and that it is absurd to ever the spirit of the old system. We con
expend a great amount of labour on mental sider that the man who has not encountered
gymnastics, merely for the sake of the dis and overcome difficulties is only half a man.
cipline, while, by taking up a more suitable Nor would we be so little friendly to the child
subject, we may get both discipline and know as to remove them all from his path, and
ledge together. Why, says the objector, make leave him unwarned and unprepared for those
a postman, who has to walk about all day, go which he must meet with in his journey through
through a preliminary drill every morning, life. If the result of the training be that the
since he gets his exercise in his work ? And pupil comes forth from it firm in mind and
*
the argument seems to be, that exercise for limb, robust and well developed, in perfect
the direct purpose of developing power, which health and capable of enduring fatigue, we
may be developed by ordinary action, is un may be well contented with these as the results
desirable. Without attempting a full reply of the process that he has gone through.
to this objection, I would however suggest,
And now, before closing my paper, I would
in the first place, that, if logically carried out, make a few remarks on the pretensions of
it would abolish education altogether. If the science to supersede—for that is what some re
ordinary spontaneous action is sufficient, teach formers aim at—the classical training of our
ing is tyranny, for it implies that the pupil schools. I have shown my appreciation of the
must be constrained. Why not allow the great value of science, not only in itself, but
child to wander about and play from morning as a means of education; but I confess that I
to night, ‘ ‘ at his own sweet will ’ ’ ? His senses have not, never having been enlightened on this
and his thoughts will be employed in some way point, a clear idea of the manner in which it
or another, and practice will make perfect. is to be taught, so as to be a real mental dis
No teacher, however, adopts such principles cipline in schools. Those gentlemen—one of
as these, nor are they worthy of serious refu whom we proudly include in the governing
tation. Secondly, I would remark that the body of our College — who a few years
practice of all professed trainers, whether of
men or animals, refutes the objection. In
* This too is one of the notions of Mr. Spencer.
order to make a soldier, it is generally thought Everything is to be made easy and delightful. He
forgets that this is not really consistent with his own
well to keep him on the parade-ground a long idea of education as a preparation for life. A prac
time, doing goose or other steps, which he is tical teacher would remind him of the established
not to use at all after the training is over. So dictum, On ne s'instruit pas era s’amusant. Every
study is, indeed, to be rendered interesting to the
it is with music, dancing, riding, rowing, and pupil. The work of the teacher fails if he does not
other accomplishments, in which the training accomplish this. The apt teacher, however, succeeds,
not by amusing his pupil, but by sympathising with
exercises are the essence of the teaching. The him, and thus gaining his confidence—by under
teachers of these arts consider practice so standing and entering into his difficulties—by en
* See Atkinson’s pamphlet, before quoted, p. 33.
couraging him with word or look, when he is puzzled,
—never intruding help when it is not needed, never
withholding it when it is.
�26
ago, at the Royal Institution, pleaded so noble, aspirations. But the question returns,
eloquently the claims of chemistry, physics, How is science to be taught ? It will not be
*
philology, phys'ology, and economic science, pretended that the scientific mind is formed
to be adopted in the curriculum as branches by a lecture once a week on electricity or
of education for all classes, meant of course chemistry, as the case may be, nor by the
that all these subjects were to be intro occasional cramming of a text-book on the
duced. Even lately, two gentlemen, every subject. The advocates of science mean some
way competent to speak upon the subject, thing far transcending this, or they mean
have urged in this room the claims of botany just nothing. But I am compelled to say
and zoology as branches of education for all that their utterances on the practical part of
classes. We have, then—breaking up Professor the subject are singularly vague and unsatis
Tyndall’s “physics” into mechanics, hydro factory. “Teach science,” they say; but
statics, optics, pneumatics, sound, heat, &c„ then Professor Huxley does not mean, teach
some fifteen or twenty subjects claiming ad Pneumatics, he means, teach Physiology.
mission into the school curriculum. I again Professor Tyndall means by these words,
ask, how are they to be taught ? Each of Physics, and not Botany, and so on. Each
these accomplished men of course considers thinks, and naturally enough, that his own
his own special subject as worthy of every special subject is the one to be taught, and
attention, and would not be satisfied with therefore the general recommendation in
the communication of a mere smattering volves the teaching of them all, and we come
of it as representing his idea of its value. back to the Chrestomathic idea which, pre
Would any one of them be contented to hand sented pur et simple to these authorities in
over his subject to either Mr. Bentham or Mr. science, would be indignantly rejected. I
Spencer to teach ? Certainly not. They would have read with much interest the evidence
all wish the subjects which they know so well, given before the late Commission on Public
which they appreciate so highly, and on which Schools, by those eminent men, Carpenter,
they have expended so much thought and Lyell, Faraday, Hooker, Owen, Airey, and
labour themselves, to be thoroughly taught— Acland. Whatever such men say must, of
to become a real possession of the pupil. But course, be interesting ; but I confess that the
how is this to be done ? That is the question, impression left on my mind was not that of pro
the satisfactory solution of which will do more found admiration for their practical “faculty.”
to advance the claims of science to admission Their remarks and suggestions—very valuable,
into the curriculum than all the arguments no doubt, as “hints”—leave the real difficulties
that have hitherto been adduced. We hear of teaching science in schools untouched; and
the pleadings in favour of each fair claimant indeed will be found so various and inconsistent
for our regard, as she appears before us,—we as frequently to neutralize one another. With
admire her charms,—we admire all the char very few exceptions, these eminent men scarcely
mers,—but we cannot marry them all; we seem to have perceived, or at least appreciated,
cannot take them all for better, for worse, the fundamental principle, that teaching sci
to have and to hold, &c.
ence does not mean teaching electricity, or
What, then, are we to do ? We not only optics, or chemistry, or geology, but training
admit, but claim, the aid of science in educa the mind to scientific method; and that if all
tion. That general enlightenment—that apt the “ologies,” from A to Z, are to have a
handling of business—“faculty,” as some peo chance of occupying the field, a general meltie
ple callit; that appreciation of cause and effect; will be the result, which will effectually frus
that comprehension of details under general trate the object. In that case, all the sci
laws ; these, which are the proper fruits of ences might be taught—if that is the word
scientific culture, would form the best correc for it—but science would not be learned.
tive of Literature, would simplify and give a Dr. Acland’s evidence is, however, very much
definite aim to her somewhat vague, though to the point. He had clearly given thought
to the subject, and handled it like a man of
* The lectures were delivered by Drs. Whewell, business. He recommended that Physics, Che
Faraday, Latham, Daubeny, and Hodgson, and
mistry, and Physiology should be required of
Messrs. Tyndall and Paget.
�"As an educational means,” he says, in a letter
all educated men, and that the two former
should be learnt at school. When reminded, published by Mr. T. Dyke Acland, in a document
prepared by the latter for the Commission, “ che
however, that the Matriculation Examination mistry is not to be compared with other means of
of the London University comprised these and training the mind.......... The direct benefit result
other cognate subjects, he gave an opiuion, in ing from the teaching of analytical chemistry in
which I confess I agree, upon the value of such schools is nil.......... I grant that two or three boys
out of fifty may be benefited by practical instruc
scientific teaching as that examination pre tion in experimental and analytical chemistry;
supposes. It is so much to the point that 1 but am also bound to add, that the rest only
will quote it:—“ I may say, genei ally, that I waste the time which may be more usefully em
This is the result,
should value all knowledge of these physical ployed. experience, but also not only of my own
personal
that of many of my
sciences very little indeed unless it was other scientific friends in this country, at least of those
wise than book-work. If it is merely a ques who love science and desire its prosperity. More
tion of getting up certain books, and being over, I would direct your attention to the fact,
that the attempt has been made in Germany, on a
able to answer certain book-questions, that is large scale, to teach chemistry practically in
merely an exercise of the memory of a very schools for lads under sixteen years of age, and has
useless kind. The great object, though not proved so complete a iailure, that it has been all
the sole object, of the training should be to but universally abandoned in my native country.”
It appears, then, that there are difficulties in
get the boys to observe and understand the
action of matter in-some department or another, the way of teaching science, even where the
and though I am perfectly aware that what is subject is well chosen, the field comparatively
called practical knowledge, if merely mani limited, and the means and appliances am
pulatory, on any subject whatever, is a humble ply provided. Dr. Volcker’s cold and dry
thing enough ; yet, on the other hand, I must experience does not perfectly accord with Mr.
say that the utmost amount of knowledge on Spencer’s enthusiastic theory, and does not go
these subjects, without that practical and expe to prove that children eagerly hunger after
rimental knowledge, is to most persons nearly scientific knowledge as they do after their daily
as useless. You want the combination of the food. Of course it is easy to throw the blame
two; and for youths, I value very little the of failure on the teacher; but Dr. Volcker’s
mere acquisition of a quantity of book-facts on words are too definite, and apply to too large
these subjects. I want them to see and know an area to admit of this. Still, there can be
the things, and in that way they will evoke no manner of doubt that science is immensely
many qualities of the mind which the study of attractive; that it is favoured by the spirit
these subjects is intended to develope.” Thus of the age; and that it will and ought to
speaks the true teacher and votary of science, be extensively taught in schools. But its
llis anxiety is to form the scientific mind, not educational advocates have, as yet, no prac
merely to communicate information on science. tical plan involving good scientific discipline,
From a great part of the evidence of the men and no well digested results, to show. Their
whose names I just quoted, you can only gather voice will be powerful enough when they
a commentary, by “eminenthands” certainly, have, and will command the attention of
on the text, “ That the soul be without know all. As the case now stands, we have pracledge, it is not good;” which—though not a I tice on the one side, and theory on the other.
Solomon myself—I would supplement by add An amount of experience which no one can
ing, “ That the soul attempt to grasp all effectually gainsay attests the value of the
knowledge, it is not wise.”
Classical training ; while an amount of theo
Dr. Acland, it will be observed, recommends retical plausibility, which no sane man can
that chemistry be adopted as a general study ; affect to despise, supports the claims of Science
and from some little opportunity I have had of to a trial. Why should there not be a com
seeing that this subject may, to a certain promise ? Intellectual education is strictly the
extent, be adopted into the school course, I training of all the mental faculties in the best
should have thought it a wise suggestion. But way. Science teaches better, that is, more
observe what a practical teacher of chemistry on directly and thoroughly, than any other study,
a large scale, Dr. Volcker, of the Cirencester how to observe, how to arrange and classify,
Agricultural College, says on this point:—
how to connect causes with effects, how to
�estimate the practical value of facts. Why
not adopt it then as the proper complement
of the literary element ? Let botany be taught
quite early in life,—in the first stage of instruc
tion,—together with such parts of physics as
give general views of science, and interest the
mind in it. In the second stage, let some one or
two branches of physics be taken as the basis
of a sound training in science, with a view to the
formation of the really scientific mind.
*
The
classical course would thrive the better for the
collateral study of science, and the scientific
would thrive the better for the classical.
Why should not both work harmoniously
together in the curriculum ?
The principle appears to be sound in general,
that the spirit of the age should be repre
sented in the education of our schools;—
this is the reforming element of the question.
See Appendix, E.
At the same time it seems equally reasonable
that we should not forego our hold on that
mighty past of which the present is the legi
timate offspring ;—and this is the conservative
element. It is well for the son, when prepared
for the world of life, to leave his father’s home
and create one for himself. It is not well that
he should do so too early, before he is prepared.
Physical science may become—probably is des
tined to become—the organic representative of
the civilisation of the age. At present it can
not be so considered ; and its claims, therefore,
to take the lead in the curriculum of education
are inadmissible. While it is labouring to
attain that position, 1 would advise its votaries
to aid those of classical instruction in securing
the great advantages of the training I have
recommended. The minds so prepared would
be the fittest of all for sharing in the researches
of science, and promoting its triumphs.
�APPENDIX.
It is necessary to say this, since the confound
A. (See page 11.)
ing of the two is evident in many of the docu
In a very interesting address of Lord Ash ments that have been published of late on these
burton’s, at the Meeting of Schoolmasters in very important subjects. Many persons seem
Manchester, in 1853, we find the follow to fancy that the elements that should consti
ing remarkable words :—“ In this progressive tute a sound and manly education are anta
country we neglect all that knowledge in which gonistic ; that the cultivation of taste through
there is progress, to devote ourselves to those purely literary studies, and of reasoning
branches in which we are scarcely, if at all, supe through logic and mathematics, one or both,
rior to our ancestors. In this practical country, is opposed to the training in the equally im
theknowledgeof all thatgives power over nature portant matter of observation through those
is left to be picked up by chance on a man’s sciences that are descriptive and experimental.
way through life. In this religious country, Surely this is an error. Partisanship of the
the knowledge of God’s works forms no part one or other method, or rather department, of
of the education of the people, no part even mental training, to the exclusion of the rest,
of the accomplishments of a gentleman.” is a narrow-minded and cramping view, from
It appears from this passage that Lord Ash whatsoever point it be taken. Equal develop
burton does, after all, consider this to be a ment and strengthening of all are required for
progressive, practical, and religious country, the constitution of the complete mind ; and it
though nothing would seem to be done to is full time that we should begin to do now
make it so. The work goes on, and bravely what we ought to have done long ago.”
too, in spite of the assumed general low level
of attainments, and the indifference with
regard to progress. Lord Ashburton does
C. (Seep. 19.)
not see that there is, in fact, no “ common
“ The purpose of Milton, as it seems, was
measure” between the progress of a nation to teach something more solid than the com
and that of an individual. The time may mon literature of schools, by reading those
come when the progress of knowledge and the I authors that treat of physical subjects, such
practical applications of it may be tenfold as the Georgic (i.e. agricultural) and astrono
what they now are. But we shall still have to mical treatises of the ancients. This was a
consider the average capacity of the race as a scheme of improvement which seems to have
“constant quantity,’’and frame our curriculum busied many literary projectors of that age.
accordingly. The progress in question arises Cowley, who had more means than Milton of
from the impulses generated in the minds of knowing what was wanting in the embellish
those who, being endowed beyond their fellows, ments of life, formed the same plan of education
stand forth as their leaders to the promised in hi3 imaginary college.
land ; but the common mass have to begin at
“ But the truth is, that the knowledge of
the beginning still in their instruction, just as external nature, and the sciences which that
if none had gone before them.
knowledge requires or includes, are not the
great or the frequent business of the. human
mind. Whether we provide for action or con
B. (See page 17.)
versation, whether we wish to be useful or
The following valuable remarks on the cul pleasing, the first requisite is the religious and
tivation of the observing powers are from an moral knowledge of right and wrong; the
“ Introductory Lecture” on the Educational next is an acquaintance with the history of
Uses of Museums, by the late Professor Ed mankind, and with those examples which may
ward Forbes, 1865:—
be said to embody truth and prove by events
“ The great defect of our systems of educa the reasonableness of opinions. Prudence and
tion is the neglect of the educating of the ob justice are virtues and excellencies of all times
serving powers—a very distinct matter, be it and of all places; we are perpetually moralists,
noted, from scientific or industrial instruction. but we are geometricians only by chance. Our
�30
intercourse with intellectual nature is neces
sary ; our speculations upon matter are volun
tary and at leisure. Physiological (physical?)
learning is of such rare emergence that a man
may know another half his life without being
able to estimate his skill in hydrostatics or
astronomy; but his moral and prudential cha
racter immediately appears. Those authors,
therefore, are to be read at schools that supply
most maxims of prudence, most principles of
moral truth, and most materials for conversa
tion; and these purposes are best served by
poets, orators, and historians.” (Johnson’s
Lives of the Poets, vol. i. p. 92.)
D.
(See page 23.)
E.
_ Subjoined is a scheme of an amended cur
riculum :—
First Stage of Instruction.
(From about eight to twelve years of age.)
First Division (about two years).
1. Reading, Spelling, and Writing.
2. History, Scriptural and English.
3. Geography, Topographical and Physical.
4. French, Elementary Speaking and Read
ing.
5. Lessons on Objects.
6. Lessons on Words.
7. Arithmetic, chiefly Mental.
Second Division (about two years).
Same subjects, as far as may be necessary,
with
Arithmetic, as an art generally.
Botany, Structural ana Systematic.
Elementary Physics, general facts and
phenomena.
English Grammar, Parsing and Analysis
of Sentences.
Merely as a suggestion, the following scheme 1.
for the study of Latin may be proposed :—
2.
1. Dr. W. Smith’s Principia Latina, Parts I. 3.
and II.
4.
2. C®sar—De Bello Gallico.
3. Virgil—Eclogse, books 1, 3, 4, and 5.
Georgica, books 1 and 2.
Second Stage of Instruction.
JEneis, books I, 2, 3, 6, and 12.
(From about twelve to sixteen years of age.)
4. Cicero—Oratio pro Milone.
First Division (about two years).
Orationes in Catilinam.
Proportion of
De Amicitia.
time, taking
5. Livy, books 1 and 21.
40 hours per
week for
6. Terence—Andria.
school-work.
7. Tacitus—Agricola.
1. Latin, taught as a training subject 20
Annales, books 1 and 2.
2. French and German, practical
8. Horace—Odse, Epistolse, and Ars Poetica.
mainly ....................................
5
3. Mathematics, especially Euclid ...
5
This matter should be thoroughly studied in 4. Physics, taught as a training sub
the spirit of the method described in the text
ject ...........................................
6
(pp. 13, 20, 21), and would require therefore’to 5. English Language and Literature 5
be gone over, parts of it at least—the Caesar and
Second Division (about two years).
Virgil—three times: first very slowly, weighing
and investigating nearly every word; the second 1. Latin (time diminished)............... 10
time less deliberately, improving the transla 2. French and German (time increased
for more composition) ........... 10
tion and enlarging the illustration; and the
third time rapidly and in good English, so as 3. Mathematics — analytical, with
practical applications ...........
5
to evince familiarity with both language and
matter. The passages from Virgil and Horace 4. Chemistry or Human Physiology 10
5. English Language and Literature 5
should be committed to memory.
Of course “Latin” and “English” both in
clude the subjects—such as geography, history,
archaeology—which may be necessary for their
illustration.
�
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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The curriculum of modern education, and the respective claims of classics and science to be represented: being the substance of two lectures delivered at the monthly evening meetings of the College of Perceptors, April 11th, & May 9th, 1866
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Payne, Joseph [1808-1876.]
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Payne presents his recommendations for the reformation of the curriculum. He writes of his belief that science should be fully introduced and that education should represent the spirit of the age.
Place of publication: London
Collation: 30 p. ; 24 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. Inscription on title page: With the author's compliments. Printed in double columns. Includes appendices.
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Virtue, Brothers, & Co.
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1866
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G5191
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Education
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Classical Education
Education
Science and Education
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�In establishing a college on the ordinary basis, and with the
ordinary scope, there are few difficulties which earnest men and
moderate means will not readily surmount. The course required
is simple and single; the equipment is compact; instructors are
readily found for every department; precedents at every point are
abundant.
But the work committed to the Trustees of the Cornell Univer-.
sity is far larger, far more complicated. In most cases it has few
available precedents, in many it has none. The committee upon
organization, therefore, cannot hope to present a plan which shall
cover every point likely to arise in carrying on the institution
now to be commenced; but they hope to present a plan which
shall aid in setting the University in operation, and to suggest
ideas which will aid it in developing healthfully and largely.
Theory
of the
Plan
of
Organization.
The theory on which the committee have based their plan is
that throughout the national and State legislation preparatory to
the establishment of the institution, and also throughout the ideas
of the founder of the Cornell University, as explained to us by
himself, are two leading convictions as to the educational needs
of the country, and two corresponding ideas as to meeting these
needs.
Each of these convictions, and its corresponding idea, is sepa
rate and distinct, yet each is necessary to the other.
The first of these convictions is that there exists a necessity
never yet fully met, for thorough education in various special
departments, and, among them, the science and practice of Agri
culture, Industrial Mechanics, and kindred departments of thought
and action. The corresponding practical idea is that institutions
be founded where such instruction can be conducted with every
appliance necessary in discovering truth and in diffusing truth;
that such instruction be not subordinated to any other; that the
agricultural and industrial professions be regarded as the peers ’of
�every other; that access to these departments be opened as widely
as possible, and progress in them be pushed as far as possible.
The second of these convictions is that the system of collegiate
instruction now dominant leaves unsatisfied the wants of a very
large number, and perhaps the majority of those who desire an
advanced general education; that although there are great num
bers of noble men doing noble work in the existing system, it has
devoted its strength and machinery mainly to a single combination
of studies, into which comparatively few enter heartily; that where
more latitude in study has been provided for, all courses outside
the single traditional course have been considered to imply a
lower caste in those taking them; that the higher general educa
tion has therefore lost its hold upon the majority of the trusted
leaders of society, that it has therefore become under-estimated
and distrusted by a majority of the people at large, and that there
fore it is neglected by a majority of our young men of energy
and ability.
The corresponding practical idea is that colleges of wider scope
be founded; that no single course be insisted upon for all alike;
that various combinations of studies be provided to meet various
minds and different plans; thus presenting a general course to
meet that general want which existing colleges fail to satisfy.
Fundamental Plan of Instruction.
The labor imposed upon us then is two-fold.
First, we are to make provision for special courses—special
instruction in the departments of agriculture, mechanic arts, &c.
Secondly, we are to provide a general course—a general course
in which such instruction and culture be afforded as shall be de
manded by the young men who come to group themselves in the
different special courses.
Even if it should be claimed that the whole effort of the trus
tees ought to be devoted to agriculture and the mechanic arts
alone; even if we were to construe away the plain words of the
original act of Congress, which speaks of “other scientific and
classical branches ” as part of the object of the government grant
of lands, still the oft-repeated declaration of our founder that he
“ wishes to make such provision that every person can find oppor
tunity here to pursue any study he desires,” would be our suffi
cient warrant in using at least his munificent gift in supplementing
�5
the special instruction with general instruction, and rounding it
out into the proportions of an university.
•
Again, even were we to found merely technical schools, giving
instruction merely in special departments, the committee believe
that we should be very soon obliged to supplement these special
courses with a general course. Common sense, as well as general
experience teaches that there must be some variation in mental
labor. With rare exceptions, any man who pursues one science
or art alone, devoting his mind entirely to that, though he may at
first progress rapidly, soon shows that such progress is not normal.
It is very firmly believed that the great majority of men who
wish to attain a high place in any science or art, can rise higher,
even in that, by enlarging the mind by some parallel studies,
than by narrowing the mind constantly to their single pursuit.
Such contracted study gives facility and accuracy, but it is too
often fatal to the qualities which ensure eminence.
Your committee are therefore of the opinion that there should
be two great divisions of the university.
The first division should comprise the separate departments
devoted each to a special science and art. The second division
should comprise the department of Science, Literature and the
Arts in general.
In accordance with this division is presented the following plan:
Organization of Instruction.
I. Division of Special Sciences and Arts.
1. Department of Agriculture.
2. Department of Mechanic Arts.
3. Department of Civil Engineering.
4. Department of Commerce and Trade.
5. Department of Mining.
6. Department of Medicine and Surgery.
7. Department of Law.
8. Department of Jurisprudence, Political Science and History,
9. Department of Education.
II. Division of Science, Literature and the Arts in General.
1. 1st General Course.
2. 2d General Course.
3. 3d General Course.
4. Scientific Course.
5. Optional Course.
�6
The character of each of the departments named in the first
division is in the main, sufficiently explained by its title. Details
of courses of instruction in each cannot well be arranged until, the
trustees shall have consulted with the faculty, and it is recom
mended that at periods previous to the commencement of active
instruction, the Academic Senate be requested to convene for the
purpose of discussing.this subject and presenting plans.
But there is one department, regarding which, perhaps, some
explanation is needed here : the department of Jurisprudence—
Political and Social Science, and History.
We believe that although there will be some attention to these
subjects in the general course, there is need of a separate depart
ment devoted to a study of them, wider and deeper. We
believe too, that such a department should be established so soon
as we approximate a full corps of professors.
In various connections with institutions of learning, and in
various public employments, the committee have been convinced:
First—That great numbers of the most active young men long
for such a department, would work vigorously in it, and would
secure good discipline by it, and that these young men are many
of them not attracted to the existing colleges.
o
o
Secondly.—We believe that the State and nation are constantly
injured by their chosen servants, who lack the simplest rudiments
of knowledge which such a department could supply. No one
can stand in any legislative position and not be struck with the
frequent want in men otherwise strong and keen, of the simplest
knowledge of principles essential to public welfare. Of technical
knowledge of law, and of practical acquaintance with business,
the supply is always plentiful, but it is very common that in
leciding great public questions, exploded errors in political and
social science are revamped, fundamental principles of law disre
garded, and the plainest teachings of history ignored.
In any republic, and especially in this, the most frequent ambi
tion among young men will be to rise to positions in the public
service, and the committee think it well at least to attempt to
provide a department in view of the wants of these; a depart
ment where there should be something more than a mere glance
over one or two superseded text books,—where there should be
large and hearty study and comparison of the views and methods
of Guizot, and Mill, and Lieber, and Woolsey, and Bastiat, and
Carey, and Mayne, and others.
�There are among you, gentlemen of the board of trustees,
representatives of every walk in life, of every important profes
sion, of every party. There are among you, representatives of
the highest state and national employments, and we appeal to you
for corroboration of the statement, that whatever may be the
opinion of cloistered men, the opinion of men active in the world
at large, is decided, that there is a great branch of instruction
here, for which the existing colleges make no adequate provision.
It may be said that the function of colleges is to give discipline,
that knowledge is subordinate. We answer that they should give
both, and that as a rule, the attempt to give mental discipline by
studies which the mind does not desire, is as unwise as to attempt
to give physical nourishment by food which the body does not desire.
Discipline comes not by studies which are “droned over.”
Again, we believe that the knowledge given, is far more
important than many would have us think. The main stock in
political economy and history of most of our educated public men,
is what they learned before they studied for their professions.
Many an absurdity uncorrected at college has been wrought into
the constitutions and statutes of our great commonwealths, and
when we consider that constitution making for new states and old,
is to be the great work in this country, of this and succeeding
generations, surely, we do well to attempt more thorough instruc
tion of those on whom the work is likely to fall.
. One other department, needs, perhaps a few words of explan
ation—that of Commerce and Trade. Throughout the country
have sprung up schools known as “commercial colleges.” The
number of persons attending them is such as to show that they
meet a want widely felt, and the idea has suggested itself that at
some future day it might be well to try the experiment of a
department under the above name, in which a more thorough and
large instruction could be given, than in those at present so
numerous. Anything which will bring some university culture
to bear upon those preparing to lead in commerce and trade, will
be a benefit to the country. How far it can be done your com
mittee will not venture to say. At least one great European uni
versity has kept up a course of this sort for many years.
In the second division, it is necessary to give a more detailed
explanation of courses, and ideas upon which the courses are
based.
�8
The 11 First General Course ” comprises a combination of studies
mainly like the classical course at the existing colleges.
The “ Second General Course,” comprises a combination of
studies like the first, with the substitution of the German lano-uao’o
for the Greek. Giving, as such a course would, the two great
elements of our language, the Romanic and the Teutonic, it is
believed that it would be received with great favor by many of
the best minds dissatisfied with the existing college courses.
The “Third General Course,” comprises the same studies as the
previous courses, except that the two languages studied are French
and German.
The “ Scientific Course'' is combined in view of the wants of
those who intend devoting themselves wholly or mainly to the
natural sciences.
The “ Optional Course" is one in which the student is required
to choose three subjects of study from all those pursued in the
University, and to pass examination therein. This it is believed,
will add greatly to the efficiency of the institution. It is a course
permitted in some of the great universities of continental Europe,
and with excellent results. It has been tried thoroughly at the
State University of Michigan, and to nothing in its organization
is that institution more indebted for its acknowledged efficiency.
It is not recommended that all these departments be established
at once. The Cornell University must have a development—a
growth, though it is believed that its growth may be very rapid.
But your committee do not hesitate to declare their belief that
neither of these departments will attain full efficiency until all are
established. They believe that each additional department and
additional course will strengthen every other, by attracting more
and more earnest minds among teachers and taught; by stimula
ting emulation among professors and students: by throwing light
upon each science and art from every other; by presenting every
element of the best culture.
The committee, however, recommend the immediate establish
ment only of so much of the first division as is embraced in the
departments of Agriculture, the Mechanic Arts, Civil Engineer
ing and Mining.
o
o
They recommend the immediate establishment of so many
courses in the second division as shall be found necessary to meet
the wants of the students presenting themselves at the beginning
of the first term.
�9
In the second division it seems advisable to present some ideas
which have influenced them in determining the courses into which
the division is separated.
University Liberty
in
Choice
of
Studies.
The first question which arises in arranging general plans of
instruction is as to the amount of liberty to be allowed the student
in selecting his course.
On one hand are they who declare that students at the usual age
of entering college are unfit to select a course, and that it must be
chosen for them. Of those taking this view are some men held
in deserved honor throughout the country.
Ou the other hand are they who declare that the usual imposi
tion of a single, fixed course is fatal to any true university spirit in
this country; that it cramps colleges and men; that it has much
to do with that strange anomaly under the existing system—
scholars stepping out of the highest scholastic positions in college
classes into nonentity in active life; that it has been the main agent
in bringing about that relaxation of the hold which colleges once
had upon the nation, which all thoughtful men deplore.
The committee see much truth in the latter view. They think
that the first view contains a fallacy in the virtual assumption that
because a young student is not aperfect judge regarding his com
plete wants, therefore he is no judge at all, and shall have others
to choose for him; and but one course opened to their choice.
We hold, indeed, that most students need advice as to details
of study, and that probably none could construct the best possible
course of study; but we also hold that an overwhelming majority
of students are competent to choose between different courses of
study, carefully balanced and arranged by men who have brought
thought and experience to the work. By the aid of older friends,
and the faculty of the university, a young man ought to be able to
make a choice based upon his previous education and means of
future education—-upon his tastes, position and ambition. Cer
tainly the results could not be more wretched under such a sys
tem than under the existing system, even by the confession of its
most earnest advocates.
The committee have carried out these views by naming different
courses, so that while the student may have the benefit of the ex
perience of men older than himself, he may have some liberty of
choice; and they have added one course, giving to more mature
students complete freedom of choice.
�10
.
Leading Disciplinary Studies
in a
General Course.
The next question which arises regarding a general course, is as
to the classes of studies to be relied upon for mental discipline,
fundamental knowledge and general culture.
A large party unhesitatingly declare for the Greek and Latin
classics. They believe that nothing else gives so valuable a disci
pline or so perfect a culture.
The committee declare here their belief in the great value of
classical studies. They do not hesitate to advise those who have
time and taste for them to study them—the Greek for its wonder
ful perfection—the Latin for its great practical value as a key to
modern languages and to the nomenclature of modern sciences—
and both Greek and Latin for their value in the cultivation of
judgment. But while it is believed that these studies ought to
hold an honored place, the committee are strongly opposed to the
attempt to fetter all students to them, if for no other reason be
cause this would be to defeat the plain intentions of those who
framed the act of Congress to which the establishment of the uni
versity is due.
In the courses provided, the modern languages most in use, and
the sciences which in theory and practice have in latter years
attained such great importance, must be recognized at their full
value in imparting instruction, and in securing mental discipline.
The committee cannot forbear noticing here a fallacy regarding
mental discipline which they will endeavor to avoid in presenting
courses of study.
That fallacy consists in the idea that the only mental discipline
is that which promotes a certain keenness and precision of mind.
We believe that there is another kind of mental discipline quite
as valuable—discipline for breadth of mind. For the former, such
studies as mathematics and philology are urged; for the latter,
such studies as history and literature. To say that the latter are
not disciplinary is to ignore, perhaps, the most important part of
mental discipline. In American life there will always be enough
keenness and sharpness of mind. But the danger is that there will
be neglect of those noble studies which enlarge the mental horizon
and increase mental powers in reaching out toward it—studies
which give material for thought and suggestions for thought upon
the great field of the history of civilization.
Happily no studies are more enjoyed by the best American stu
dents than those which give this mental breadth—historical and
�11
political studies. This being the case, there need be no fears as
to their value in mental discipline, for discipline comes by studies
which are loved, not by studies which are loathed. There is no
discipline to be obtained in droning over studies. Vigorous,
energetic study, prompted by enthusiasm or a high sense of the
value of the subject, is the only kind of study not positively hurt
ful to mental power. Hence the great evil of insisting on the
same curriculum for all students, regardless of their tastes or plans.
Combination and Separation of Professorships.
In making provision for these different departments it will be
seen that they interpenetrate each other, one professorship
frequently extending through two or three departments.
So frequently is this the case, that it will be seen to be impos
sible to provide professors fully for any one department without
at the same time, making almost sufficient provision for the others.
Of the professorships to be filled at an early day, we would
present the following schedule :—
1st.
2d.
3d.
4th.
5th.
6th.
7th.
8th.
9tb.
I. Department of Agriculture.
Professor of the Theory and Practice of Agriculture.
Professor of Agricultural Chemistry.
Professor of General and Analytical Chemistry.
Professor of Geology and Mineralogy.
Professor of Zoology and comparative anatomy.
Professor of Botany.
Professor of Civil Engineering.
Professor of Veterinary Surgery and Breeding of Animals.
Physiology, Hygiene, and Physical Culture.
1st.
2d.
3d.
4th.
5th.
6th.
II. Department of Mechanics.
Professor of Physics and Industrial Mechanics.
Professor of Civil Engineering.
Professor of Architecture.
Professor of General and Analytical Chemistry.
Professor of Geology and Mineralogy.
Professor of Mathematics.
III. Department of Civil Engineering.
1st. Professor of Civil Engineering.
2d. Professor of Architecture.
�12
3d. Professor of Physics and Industrial Mechanics.
4th. Professor of Geology and Mineralogy.
5th. Professor of Mathematics.
1st.
2d.
3d.
4th.
Professor
Professor
Professor
Professor
IV. Department of Mining.
of Mining and Metallurgy.
of Civil Engineering.
of Geology and Mineralogy.
of General and Analytical Chemistry.
V. Department of Science, Literature, and the Arts.
1st. Professor of Moral and Mental Philosophy.
2d. Professor of History.
3d. Professor of Political Economy.
4th. Professor of Municipal Law.
5th. Professor of Constitutional Law.
6th. Professor of Ancient Languages.
7th. Professor of French and South European Languages.
8th. Professor of German and North European Languages.
9th. Professor of English Language and Literature.
10th. Professor of Rhetoric, Oratory and Vocal Culture.
11th. Professor of Mathematics.
12 th. Professor of Astronomy.
13th. Professor of Physics and Industrial Mechanics.
14th. Professor of Geology and Mineralogy.
15th. Professor of Zoology and Comparative Anatomy.
16th. Professor of Botany.
17th. Professor of Physiology, Hygiene and Physical Culture.
18th. Professor of Chemistry, General and Analytical.
19th. Professor of ^Esthetics, and the History of the Fine Arts.
20th. Professor of Architecture.
21st. Professor of Military Tactics.
22d. Professor of Physical Geography and Meteorology.
The entire university, therefore, would comprise the following
professorships:—
1. Theory and Practice of Agriculture.
2. Agricultural Chemistry.
3. Veterinary Surgery and the Breeding of Animals.
4. General and Analytical Chemistry.
5. Botany.
�13
6. Zoology and Comparative Anatomy.
7. Geology and Mineralogy.
8. Physics and Industrial Mechanics.
9. Mathematics.
10. Astronomy.
11. Civil Engineering.
12. Physiology, Hygiene and Physical Culture.
13. Moral and Physical Culture.
14. History.
15. Political Economy.
16. Municipal Law.
17. Constitutional Law.
18. Rhetoric, Oratory and Vocal Culture.
19. English Language and Literature.
20. French, and South European Languages.
21. German, and North European Languages.
22. Ancient Languages.*
23. ./Esthetics, and History of the Fine Arts.
24. Architecture.
25. Military Tactics and Engineering.
26. Physical Geography and Meteorology.
It will be seen, therefore, that there are twenty-six professor
ships needed at an early day. But it is not thought that it will
be necessary to have so many separate professorships at once, nor
to place all upon the same basis. Some professors must, to be
efficient, reside permanently at the seat of the university, giving
daily recitations or lectures, and conducting daily experiments.
Some will be perfectly efficient by a temporary residence,
during which recitations are heard, or lectures given. Hence
occurs at once, another division of a kind very different from any
we have previously made—the division into resident and non
resident professors.
Having in view this division, the committee present the follow
ing schedule:—
1.
2.
3.
4.
Resident Professors.
Theory and Practice of Agriculture
Agricultural Chemistry.
General and Analytical Chemistry.
Botany.
■To be separated into two or more professorships when circumstances shall demand it.
�14
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
Zoology and Comparative Anatomy.
Geology and Mineralogy.
Physics and Industrial Mechanics.
Mathematics.
Astronomy.
Civil Engineering.
Moral and Mental Philosophy.
History.
Rhetoric, Oratory and Vocal Culture.
French, and South European Languages.
German, and North European Languages.
Ancient Languages.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
Non-Resident Professors.
Veterinary Surgery and the Breeding of Animals.
Physiology, Hygiene and Physical Culture.
Political Economy.
Municipal Law.
Constitutional Law.
English Language and Literature.
^Esthetics and the History of the Fine Arts.
Architecture.
Military Tactics and Engineering.
Physical Geography and Meteorology.
Temporary Modifications of the Plan.
The question now arises, how much of this plan can be made
practical during the first year—how many of th3se professors
can we employ to advantage while the university is beginning its
operations?
Two plans suggest themselves. The first is to fill all these
chairs immediately, to make a beginning which shall give us a
reputation at once, to strike public attention on the first day of
the first term, by a large programme fully carried out.
The second plan is to hold during the first year, some professor
ships in abeyance, and of the remaining departments to combine
temporarily, several in one, thus commencing in a manner less
striking, feeling our way somewhat at first, finding gradually
what are the departments most needed.
The committee pronounce for the latter method. The policy
of the Cornell University has not been to make much proclamation
�15
of great purposes. Its founder has steadily gone on, always
performing more than his promises, and there are goodly signs
that the university authorities have caught his spirit. Two of
the noblest buildings for university purposes in the United States
have been reared; but there has been no pompous laying of corner
stones, no loud proclamations of new discoveries in the theory
and practice of education, no publication of programmes out of
all proportion to revenues, and it is to be hoped that we shall not
begin an ad captandum policy now. The only question worthy of
us is: What does the university practically need the first year?
It is believed that the duties may be so arranged that during the
first year eight or ten professors will be sufficient.
Possible Modifications of the Plan in Future.
Such is a general scheme offered as a point of departure in
arranging professorships. The committee know well that in
details it must often be departed from. The peculiar talents of a
valuable member of the faculty, have much to do with the final
shaping of the list of professorships. The demands made by stu
dents have also very much to do with it. A great demand upon
the professorship of Physiology, Hygiene and Physical Culture,
would make it necessary to change it from the non-resident to the
resident list, and so with others.
The number of students too, must have a very great influence
on this matter. As numbers increase, professorships must be sub
divided. Thus, until the numbers are large, the professor of
Physics can discharge the duties of professor of Industrial
Mechanics, but afterwards the latter department would probably
be detached.
As numbers increase, too, some departments will require
assistants. In some departments one system must be pursued and
the responsibility fixed on one man; it cannot therefore be divided.
But when numbers are greatly increased, it will probably be
necessary to appoint an assistant professor or instructor, who
should be subject as regards their plan of instruction, to the head
of the department. As any department developes also, it will be
necessary to subdivide it, and increase the number of professor
ships in it. Thus, for example, the department of Civil Engineer
ing, would be separated into three or four new departments, each
devoted to a special part of the work, and then must be added
instructors in geometrical and topographical drawing, &c.
�Non-resident Professors
for short
terms, or
University
Lecturers.
But there is a feature in the full organization which the
committee ask the trustees to consider especially. It is one which
several educators have in the recent years arrived at independ
ently of each other. It is one promising great results, but
demanding great care. This is the establishment of a system of
non-resident, short term professors, or university lecturers. The
plan is as follows : Have the full equipment of full term profes
sors above given, let the trustees elect each year a small number
of short-term professors or lecturers, from among the most distin
guished in their several departments, in this or other states;
let no general rule as to term of service, number of lecturers or
compensation be laid down, but let such special agreement be
made between each person thus called and the trustees, as shall
best secure the object desired.
Let the professors thus selected be either persons who are
accepted as authorities regarding matters upon which they
discourse, or persons whose talents, acquirements and reputations
are of the highest. Let them deliver, each, a certain number of
lectures, representing in a form and style as nearly suited to their
audiences as possible, what they themselves, consider the highest
results, or a summary of the main results of their labors. Let
their course of lectures be fully announced in the public prints to
the country at large. The advantage of such an addition to the
regular means of instruction, are believed to be very great.
First, great good would doubtless result to the Resident Faculty.
The great difficulty with bodies of professors remote from great
cities, and centres of thought and action is, that they lose connec
tion with the world at large, save through books; they become
provincial in spirit ; they lose that enthusiasm which contact
with other leading minds in the same pursuits would arouse;
they “ breed in and in;” their whole range of thought becomes
inevitably narrow. But, under this system now proposed, there
would be a constant influx of light and life from the great centres
of thought and action. The resident professors would be thrown
into close relations at once, with the special professors thus called.
Their views would be enlarged, their efforts stimulated, their
whole life quickened.
Secondly, great good would result to students in regular attend
ance. A great difficulty among students assembled in college is
�17
a regularity in routine, a dullness, a listlessness, a want of enthu
siasm. The general result of this, as regards study, is that it is
done mechanically; that most of the scholarly work is poor in
quality and small in quantity. The general result as regards conduct, is that too often, in a spirit of reaction against this listless
ness, the energies which would do great things if directed to study,
are directed to dissipation. It is believed by your committee that
if these special professors were men of the greatest ability and
eminence, an enthusiasm might be aroused among the students in
regard to various departments of knowledge, which would direct
their energies mainly into channels of study and thought.
The objection has indeed been made that these special courses
might cause confusion and dissipation in the minds of the students.
It is believed, however, that this will be the result with compara
tively few students, and even with these but temporarily. It is
believed that in the great majority of cases, the enthusiasm created
will far outweigh in good effects any evil effects arising from the
disturbance of the regular routine.
Thirdly, great good would result to large portions of the pub
lic in general, which under ordinary circumstances would not avail
itself of the ordinary privileges of the University. It is believed
that such special courses of lectures by distinguished men would
attract large numbers of citizens for brief terms, resulting in good
to them and to society at large, by an immediate extension of the
activity of the University among the matured minds and men
already in active life.
Fourthly, great good would result to the University itself. It
would enable the University to make a division of labor, selecting
members of the Resident Faculty, for their energy and working
ability, selecting men who have a name to make and ability to
make it, and not selecting men for the resident professors—for the
hard work of the University—who have attained eminence and so
outlived their willingness to do hard work.
Again, it would greatly strengthen the University as to reputa
tion. Let there be widely published each year, in leading jour
nals, in addition to a meritorious Resident Faculty, a number of
special professors or lecturers, whose ability in research, or in
presenting the results of research, is acknowledged, and the insti
tution would arrive in a very short time at a height of reputation
which other institutions have failed to achieve during long years
of ordinary administration.
2
�Again, the system thus proposed would strengthen the Univer* sity by attracting great numbers of students. The same simple
reasoning which we have used to show that this system would
give the University efficiency and power, also shows that it would
draw great numbers of students.
Nor would such a result be merely gratifying to pride. There
is an educating force of no mean value in the presence of a very
large body of students—a means of education through large
acquaintance, and through wide observation of character—a stimu
lus to effort through emulation, which in a small group can hardly
be attained.
Character
of
Scholarship in Professors.
The question next arises, what manner of men shall these pro
fessors be?
To maintain the efficiency and reputation of the University, its
faculty must constantly keep in view two great objects: first,-the
discovery of truth; secondly, the diffusion of truth.
By a certain class of men deservedly in high repute, there has
been fostered a spirit which tends not to the undue exaltation of
the discovery of new truth in science, for that cannot be unduly
exalted, but to the undue depreciation of the diffusion of scientific
truth.
Your committee believe that in the selection of a faculty, neither
of these two great functions of every professor should be exalted
at the expense of the other. It is not doubted that in the largest
minds devoted to science, the power of discovering truth and the
power of imparting it, are almost invariably found together. Men
should be sought for the faculty who can go on discovering truth
and imparting it. But it should not be forgotten that in an insti
tution of learning, facility and power in imparting truth are even
more necessary than in discovering it.
Where can these Professors be Found?
Many persons of high standing have answered this question
much as follows: “Your endowment is large: select the greatest
men in this country and other countries. Have perhaps fewer
professors, but range the country through and take from the lead
ing institutions their leading men, the men who give standing to
science, literature and art in America. Have the best.”
Other persons thoughtfully considering this problem have ans
�19
wered the question in a very different way: “ Your endowment is
indeed large, but it has to cover an immense field. The most effi
cient men for professorships are by no means necessarily those
most frequently paraded in newspapers. Often a hard working
man, who has never arrived at more than a local reputation, or a
young man who has not arrived at any reputation at all, is practi
cally better than men whose reputation is made, and who have out
lived the necessity of hard thought and work.”
There are important elements of truth in both these responses;
but your committee would answer this question as follows:
The division of the instructing body into the three great classes
of resident, non-resident and special professors or lecturers, already
recommended, suggests a solution of the problem.
To bring the University to the highest standard in science, lite
rature and the arts, at once,—to get such general advantages as
come from distinguished men and great names,—have a careful
eye to the selection of special lecturers; secure men for courses of
twelve or fifteen or twenty lectures, who, while they could not at
any sum be engaged permanently, can be secured for so short a
term by liberal compensation and the display of a promising field
of labor.
If it be said that such instruction will be fragmentary and super
ficial, we answer, that we believe such an assertion to be a great
mistake. The greatest course of lectures ever delivered before
an University,—the one which remodeled the science of history,
and which is felt to-day in every historical treatise of repute, con
sisted of but fifteen lectures. We refer to Guizot’s renowned
lectures on civilization ; and there are multitudes of similar exam
ples.
But for the steady hard work of the regular resident faculty, it
would be vain to seek such eminent men. It would cost immense
sums to take even a few of them out of the high places into which
they have climbed ; to tear them from the associations of a life
time ; to take them from the midst of their assistants, and to put
them again into a fresh field to begin their life-work anew.
To take Agassiz permanently from Cambridge, we must outbid
the Emperor of the French, who has already offered the most
tempting prizes in vain.
To take Dana permanently from Yale, or Dwight or Lieber from
Columbia, Guyot from Princeton, or Park from Andover, would
require our whole income ; and it is even then doubtful whether
�20
these men would do our work well as resident professors, building
up a new institution.
The opinion of the committee is, that the better course for filling
the resident body is to find out the names and characteristics of
of the most promising young men, who, under these distinguished
professors, have already commenced a career. Select those who
have a name to make, and who can make it. We can thus secure
enthusiasm, energy, ambition, willingness to work, and without
paying enormous salaries.
We do not, indeed, advise making up the faculty entirely of
such young men. It would be judicious to select from the most
successful instructors in the existing schools and colleges, men of
more experience to give the faculty steadiness ; but as a rule, the
committee believe that for a time, at least, the University must
rely upon young men for the hard work in building up this great
benefaction to the State and Naticn.
General Culture
of
Professors.
But while the first thing to be sought in professors is ability to
discover truth and to impart it, there is another requirement of
hardly less importance—general good culture and manliness.
If, to secure some great genius in any special department, we
have to bear with some lack of general culture, we ought perhaps
to sacrifice the lower qualifications for the higher ; but nothing
short of such extreme necessity should lead us to place men of a
low grade, as to general culture, among young men whose habits
of thinking and living are just receiving the form and impress
which they are to bear during life.
This University must not only make scholars : it has a higher
duty ; it must make men—men manly, earnest, and of good gen
eral culture. We must not make the mistake so common in older
colleges—in selecting to govern and guide bright, high-spirited
young men, tutors who do not and cannot know anything of the
world and of what the world is thinking,—instructors who lead
students to associate learning with boorishness or clownishness.
We must make no man an instructor simply because he is poor or
pious or a “squatter” on the college domain. We must have
men who are what we would have our sons be, and we must have
them at any cost.
And here the committee desire to say, that for instruction in
modern languages, as a rule, our best course is to secure Amcri-
�21
cans. The slight advantage in correct accent possessed by an
instructor from a foreign country is almost always too dearly pur
chased by sacrifice of the qualities which ensure success in lectures
or recitations. This suggestion is not made, of course, in any
narrow spirit of dislike for men of foreign birth, but under the
certainty that teaching American young men by foreigners has
almost universally proved a failure, both as to instruction and
discipline.
Methods
of bringing the General Culture of
BEAR UPON THE STUDENTS.
Professors
to
One of the saddest deficiencies in existing colleges is want of
free intercourse, and even of acquaintance, between professors and
students. In most of the larger colleges the great mass of stu
dents know really nothing of either President or Professors. They
are generally strangers, or worse than strangers. They have met
in lecture rooms or recitation rooms, but they have met as natural
enemies. Their only conversation outside the lecture room has
been when the student made excuses, or the professor gave re
proofs ’ and in these the student is normally a culprit, and the
professor a detective.
It seems all the more strange that such want of intercourse
should exist under a system which deifies classic culture, when the
Athenian ideal of that culture was obtained by frank, full, genial
conversation between teacher and taught.
It seems all the more sad, when every reflecting man knows
that hearty, manly sympathy in studies and pursuits established
between a young man and a man of thought, learning, character
and experience, is worth more than all educational programmes
and machinery.
In excuse for this it is asserted that the number of students in
college classes is generally so large that professors cannot know
them. It is believed by your committee, that this difficulty is
by no means insuperable. It has from time to time been over
come at various large colleges, and it is worth our trouble to try
some experiments at least in bringing students within range of
the general culture of professors, and keeping them within it.
- It is therefore recommended that the duty of acquaintance and
social intercourse with students be impressed upon the faculty,
and that additions be made to professors’ salaries expressly as an
indemnity or provision for such social privileges to students. The
�22
same principle which has led wise governments to make extra
allowances to ambassadors, for the express purpose of keeping up
genial social relations with the people among whom they are sent,
is the basis of the experiment now suggested. The experiment
can be tried, either by moderate additions to salary or deductions
from rents of University houses.
It is also suggested that some provision be made for weekly or
fortnightly reunions of faculty and students ; that at an early day
pleasant rooms be allotted for that purpose, and that some small
expenditure be made to render such gatherings attractive and pro
fitable. Even if some little time is taken from the ordinary rou
tine, the experiment is well worth trying.
Relations
of
Professors to Each Other.
The committee desire to impress here an idea which they con
ceive most essential to the success of the University ; simply this :
The University will tolerate no feuds in the faculty.
It may seem strange that this should be alluded to ; but in view
of the fact that more than one American college has been ruined
by such feuds, and that very many have been crippled ; in view
of the cognate fact that the odium theologicum seems now outdone
by hates between scientific cliques and dogmas ; that as a rule it
is now impossible to secure an impartial opinion from one scien
tific man regarding another; and that these gentlemen, in their
jealousies and bickerings, are evidently only awaiting some one
with a spark of the Moliere genius to cover them before the country
with ridicule and contempt, we do not think that the Board is
likely to give too much importance to this.
We advise that in the common law of the University it be a
fundamental principle, that harmony and hearty co-operation in
the work here are far more essential than any one or any half
dozen professors, and that in case feuds and quarrels arise, every
professor concerned be at once requested to resign, unless the dis
turbing person can be identified beyond a reasonable doubt ; that
if ever a general want of harmony be observed, and a rapid adjust
ment is impossible, the Gordian knot be cut, and that all con
cerned be replaced by others who can work together. Better to
have science taught less brilliantly, than to have it rendered con
temptible.
�23
How shall Professors be Found ?
Various methods of securing the best mon have been resorted
to, in the institutions already established.
One method is, to give notice quietly that a position is vacant;
to receive testimonials regarding candidates, consisting of their
own statements and the written recommendations of their friends :
and to select the person whose recommendations are the most
numerous or laudatory.
We believe such a method wretchedly delusive. A sad sort of
common law obtains in our country, by which a candidate for any
place has a right to demand that his townsman, neighbor or friend
shall put his name to any statement necessary to secure an elec
tion. No man of recent experience can doubt that an immense
array of petitions could be obtained for the rebuilding of the
Tower of Babel, and that an immense array of testimonials could
be obtained, attesting the fitness of the most knavish contractor
to build it.
Considering this facility with which recommendations are ob
tained, they ought never to be considered final, though they ought
always to be demanded.
It should also be laid down at the outset, as a fundamental law,
that no testimonials are to have any weight, no matter how great
the abilities of the giver, except as they are statements upon im
portant qualifications from persons who are unquestionable authothorities upon these particular qualifications. It ought to be fully
understood that the vague testimony of the foremost lawyer in
the State, as to attainments in organic chemistry or microscopic
anatomy, or other branches of science in which the legal gentle
man is not an expert, pass with this Board as so much blank paper.
Another method sometimes resorted to in Great Britain is, to
advertise for candidates—stating duties, salary, with testimonials
or tests. This has some advantages ; but after correspondence
regarding this plan, with some leading men who have thought and
wrought much for higher education, we do not recommend it.
The only safe method would seem that, by committee or other
wise, we make investigations for ourselves ; to obtain confidential
statements as to the abilities of candidates—statements sud sigillo
confessionis from those who desire our success and the promotion
of the most worthy, and who can give us real information and not
conventional praise.
It has happened that the papers of candidates have been thus
�24
far referred to this committee, and so far as possible, in the
absence of full powers, we have acted upon the plan here sug
gested. We recommend that some existing committee or some
new committee be authorized to receive the testimonials of candi
dates ] to make the investigations required, and to report to the
Board at a very early day.
The Administering Body.
Thus far the committee have occupied themselves with the
Instructing Body. They now turn to the question of the Admin
istering Body.
The immediate administering or governing body, subject to the
trustees, is naturally, as regards discipline, details of instruction,
&c., the Faculty. At the head of the Faculty should stand a Pre
sident, and in so large an institution there are reasons why it might
be well to name a Vice-President. These, while taking part in
the instruction, should take the lead'in the administration. The
experience of all institutions of learning puts it beyond a doubt
that such headship is necessary. The single attempt to dispense
with it, is one of the most wretched failures in the educational
history of this country.
The committee recommend that there be elected at an early
day a President of the University.
Method
of
Administration.
The question now arises, how shall the government or adminis
tration by the Faculty be conducted ?
Two methods have been in existence :
First. The discipline of students, and, indeed, the great mass
of ordinary business of the institution, is committed to the Presi
dent. The Faculty, in this plan, merely, as a rule, present reports
and give advice, leaving the initiation of measures and the final
decision and action upon them, to the head of the instructing body,
This is the method practiced in many colleges of New England,
and generally, it is believed, in those of New York.
According to the other method, the Faculty occupy altogether
a different position. They are not merely advisors, but legisla
tors. They cannot throw the responsibility upon the head of the
institution; they must take part in it themselves. This is the
system adopted in a few of the American colleges, and, among
them, in the State University of Michigan.
�25
Your committee are decidedly in favor of the latter method.
They believe that to the looseness of method incident to the
former system, are due many of the difficulties which disgrace
Faculties, and much of the bad discipline which ruins students.
Your committee recommend, therefore, that in each department
of the University, the Faculty belonging to that department form
a legislative body, with sittings at regular and short intervals,
presided over by the President, Vice-President, or a Dean elected
for that purpose ; that rules of order be observed ; that in cases
of discipline, or conferring degrees, every resident and non-resi
dent professor have a vote, and that such vote be by ballot.
The committee recommend that the combined Faculty of the
whole University also have stated meetings at regular intervals not
greater than once a month, presided over by the President, VicePresident, or a President pro tempore, for the purpose of conduct
ing the general administration of the institution and memorializing
the trustees ; discussing general questions of educational policy ;
presenting papers upon special subjects in literature, science and
the arts ;—that this body be known as the Academic Senate ; that
its proceedings be conducted according to rules of order; that
every person engaged in instruction, whether resident professors,
non-resident professors, lecturers or instructors, have permission
to speak, but that the right of voting be confined to the resident,
non-resident professors, and to assistant professors representing
complete departments in which no professor is appointed.
Official Term
of
Professors.
As regards the term of office of professors, the committee ask
your attention to the following considerations :
The usual, in fact the universal plan hitherto has been, to elect
professors to serve indefinitely. The power of removal in such
cases remains in the trustees ; but practically it has been found
difficult to exercise it, even where there has been great reason for
it. In his work on University Education, Dr. Wayland alludes
to the great difficulty under the existing system of removing
incompetent or superannuated professors. It has been a great
difficulty. Hardly a college which has not suffered from retaining
men not sufficiently capable, because it required positive action to
remove them, which action no one wished to initiate.
On the other hand, it is a matter of difficulty to engage good
men for short terms of service in a Faculty. The acquirements
�of a professor are not like those of a lawyer or physician, whichs
if not appreciated in one town, can be exercised in the next. His
fields of labor are comparatively few, and he naturally hesitates
greatly to commit himself to the chance of being cast out in a few
years. He will be very likely, under such circumstances, to prefer
a place of less honor and more permanence. To overcome this
feeling, salaries would have to be much larger than under the
usual system.
Again : It is not improbable that such reelections might lead to
cabals and intrigue, thus distracting the institution, defiling it,
and thwarting the purposes of this provision.
The advantages of engaging professors for short terms are appa
rent. Incompetent men would easily drop out at the end of six
years, if not before. Such a system, too, would probably inspire
every member of the Faculty to constant exertion. It is a ques
tion, however, whether his exertion would be mainly directed to
retaining his professorship by energy in instruction, or energy in
intrigue.
Your committee are not prepared to make any recommendation
regarding the term of service of the Faculty, leaving it entirely
to the future discussions of the Board.
Salaries of Professors.
Another question arises, of much immediate importance, regard
ing the salaries of the Faculty.
Professors’ salaries in the United States vary greatly. The sala
ries at Columbia College are generally about four to five thousand
dollars per annum; at Brown University, Providence, they are
fixed at about twenty-five hundred dollars ; at Yale College, at
about twenty-three hundred dollars ; at Union College, at about
eighteen hundred to two thousand dollars ; at Hamilton College,
at about twelve hundred dollars ; at Hobart College, at about one
thousand to fourteen hundred dollars; at the University of
Michigan, at about seventeen hundred dollars.
Your committee would be glad to see their way clearly to a
recommendation that each professor be paid according to an agree
ment with the trustees, having in view the value of services ; but
practically, they fear, this would be a matter of great difficulty.
The main value of one professor consists in his earnestness ; of
another, in his quickness ; of another, in his eloquence; of ano
ther, in his reputation. The value of one professor is determined
�27
by many hours, every day, of hard labor; the value of another,
by a single hour, every day, of brilliant labor. To balance the
claims of these is very difficult. To do it at all, without arousing
jealousies which would be likely to interfere with the easy work
ing of the institution, your committee fear would be impossible.
The committee, however, recommend for trial, that grades of
salary be established for resident professors and assistant profess
ors, which grades, however, shall make no difference in the stand
ing of such professors or assistant professors. The grade shall be
determined in each case at the election of the professor, and the
grade may be raised at any time by a vote of the trustees, regard
being had to the amount and value of services rendered, or to the
experience of the persons rendering them. Tn this view, they
present the following
Schedule of Salaries.
I. Resident Professors.
x
1st grade_________________________ _____ ___ $2,250
2d grade........ . ............. . ..................... ..... ................. 2,000
3d grade____ __________ _________ ______ ___
1,750
II. Resident Assistant Professors.
1st grade........ . ..................... ............. ......................... $1,750
2d grade___________________________ _______
1,500
3d grade............ ........... ......... ................... ............... .. 1,200
4th grade_____________ _____ ______ _________
1,000
The compensation of the non-resident professors, special pro
fessors and lecturers should be arranged by special agreement in
each case.
In addition to the officers already named for administrative pur
poses, will be required a Steward, who should occupy an office'
upon the grounds, keep close watch of the grounds and buildings,
superintend repairs, present certificates, receive dues, keep books,
etc., etc. His salary also should be matter of agreement.
Modification
in the
Official Term of Trustees.
In considering the arrangement of the governing body, the com
mittee cannot forbear to make a suggestion as to a modification of
the present charter. By that, the Board of Trustees are a selfperpetuating body; each trustee elected for life, and the whole
body form a close corporation. None can deny that while such
�28
an organization lias advantages as regards stability, it has disad
vantages as regards progress and activity. Your committee be
lieve that the history of great educational institutions, when fully
written, will show that this method of electing trustees is the
great cause why institutions of learning have so often been
dragged on behind the age, instead of being recognized as leaders
of the age. We are not prepared to present in all its details a
plan for the change desired ; but we recommend that as soon as it
shall be deemed expedient, some legislation be had by which the
term of office for trustees shall be six years; that the elected
trustees be classified by lot, and that a certain number of trustees
be elected each year. The committee would suggest that each
year, three new members be elected into the Board by the trus
tees, to take the places of three who annually leave it. They
recommend that this continue until such time as the graduates of
the University shall number one hundred ; that thereafter two
persons be elected annually into the Board by the Trustees, and
one be elected by the graduates. They also recommend that the
elections of the Board of Trustees be conducted in every case by
ballot, and that it require a two-thirds vote of the electing body
to re-elect a former trustee.
The advantages of this plan in general are evident. First, it
secures an influx of new life into the Board. Secondly, it does
this without any jar or disturbance of harmony. - Thirdly, it
recognizes the fact that the alumni of the institution never lose
their vital connection with it. Fourthly, it prompts every alumnus
to maintain a deep interest in the institution.
The committee recommend that by the same legislation, the
number of absences from meetings of the Board allowed by the
Revised Statutes, be diminished. It is surely not too much to ask
that men having the honor of a position in a Board of Trustees
like this, should discharge the duties, or that if they cannot dis
charge them, they give place to those who can. On a full attend
ance upon the meetings of the Board, depends in a great measuie
the success of this noble enterprise.
The Equipment
and
Illustrative Collections.
The next point to which the committee would call attention, is
the Equipment.
For the department of Agriculture there are two sorts of equip
ments. First, some farm buildings and tools are necessary at an
�29
/
early day to meet the demands of simple practical instruction.
Secondly, to give the department the character and efficiency it
deserves, there must be begun and carried on as rapidly as pos
sible, a Museum of Agriculture, embracing collections of imple
ments, productions, and matters generally relating to the depart
ment, in character similar to the State Agricultural collection at
Albany.
In the department of the Mechanic Arts, your committee believe
that the order of equipment needed is exactly the reverse; that
whereas in the Agricultural department an experimental farm is
first needed and the illustrative collection is secondary, in the
department of Mechanics the illustrative collection is first needed,
and the model workshop is secondary.
The reasons for this belief are as follows:
For the experiments in agriculture one farm is sufficient; the
main outlines of procedure in practical culture and experiments
are simple ; a small range of implements is sufficient for the whole
work.
To cover an equally extensive field in the mechanic arts would
necessitate a very great number of shops, with scores of processes
entirely dissimilar, with an immense range of machines and tools.
In agriculture one field will answer for nearly all the different
processes and experiments ; in mechanics, as a rule, one workshop
will only answer for each single branch to which it is devoted.
But, in addition to this great difference between the two depart
ments, in the ease of simple instruction in elementary practice,
your committee conceive there is a radical difference between the
necessities of the two departments. Scientific agriculture depends
largely on experiments. Whatever may be the results of strictly
scientific deductions, these results are not to be accepted until
experiment has proved them useful. Thus, agricultural chemistry
alone,, as a science coming out of the laboratory, is inadequate.
Its results must be submitted to practice on the farm. In actual
practice a great number of elements constantly arise to disturb
theoretical results.
In the department of Mechanic Arts, on the other hand, the
results of strict scientific investigation are seldom modified by
practice. Every calculation given by mathematical theory will be
found to work in practice.
In machines, theoretical calculations of power, modified by cal
culations of friction will, as a general rule, express practical
�30
results. There is, then, no such need of experimental workshops
in this department as of experimental farms in the other.
There are other reasons which might be adduced, but the com
mittee would pass them, and recommend at an early day that there
be commenced in this department a general collection, embracing
drawings, casts, sectional and working models, in general character
like the “Conservatory of Arts and Trades” at Paris.
They also recommend that the Board take into consideration the
establishment of a workshop, where young men may be employed
in making sundry implements and machines for the agricultural
department, and models for the collections illustrating various
other departments.
In the department of Engineering, collections are necessary of
drawings, engravings, models, casts, &c., in general scope like
that at Union College ; and among these the committee recom
mend at an early day, in the department of Mathematics, the
acquisition of a collection of the Olivier models, similar to those
at the Paris Conservatory, and at Union, Harvard and Columbia
Colleges, and at the Military Academy at West Point.
In the division of Science, Literature, and the Arts in general,
various collections are necessary. Of these, collections in Geology.
Mineralogy, Zoology, Comparative Anatomy and Botany, are those
most immediately needed. The University, by the munificence
of its founder, possesses already one of the finest collections extant
in Geology, only needing small additions in Lithology to make it
sufficient. It is here submitted that much might be done in build
ing up the collections, by employing active students in the work
of collecting specimens most accessible, and in conducting ex
changes. At the same time it will probably be advantageous to
keep watch of the collections which are from time to time offered
for sale in this country and in Europe, and thus secure, at comparativelv small cost, such collections as the Ward collection at
Rochester; the Lederer collection at Ann Arbor, and the Gibbs
collection at New Haven.
Philosophical Apparatus.
Another very important part of the equipment of any institution
of a high class is its collection of Philosophical Apparatus. It
is undoubtedly true that a skillful professor, with little apparatus,
is better than a bungler with much ; yet as it is our ambition to
have not only the best instructors, but also the best means of illus
�31
tration, it is our duty to look carefully to this portion of the
equipment, and to decide upon a policy regarding it.
The committee believe that the trustees should make every effort
to have the best; and that our policy should be two-fold : First,
the professors in the department of General Chemistry, Physics,
and kindred departments, should be furnished with the means of
illustrating the latest results of research and initiating new re
searches. Secondly, they should have the means of publicly illus
trating these brilliantly. We therefore hope to see, at an early
day, in the collections of the University, such comparatively rare
pieces of apparatus as that of Bianchi or Thilorier for the solidi
fication of carbonic acid ; the English apparatus for the direct
generation on a large scale of electricity from steam; the Boston
modification of Ruhmkorf’s coil for presenting on a large scale the
effects of electricity induced by the Galvanic current; the new
French apparatus for experimenting upon light; and in general
those aids to instruction and illustration proper to an institution
which we hope to place among the first of this country.
The earlier the philosophical apparatus is put on this footing,
the better; and while the committee do not urge an immediate
outlay sufficient to compass all that these departments should con
tain, they earnestly recommend at an early day a liberal expendi
ture toward a worthy beginning.
Collections Illustrative
of
Art.
The University can never attain to the proportions we hope for
it, without some collections illustrative of the great Arts of Architecture, Sculpture and Painting.
While galleries of statues and paintings by artists just now in
fashion, are too expensive to be thought of, art-collections of far
greater educational value can be formed at an outlay compara
tively trifling.
The collections of casts at the German University at Bonn, and
in the institutions at Boston, Ann Arbor and Toronto • the collec
tions of photographs and medallions illustrating architecture and
sculpture, and the collection of engravings illustrating the History
of Painting, now forming at the University of Michigan, furnish
examples of the equipment which ought ere long to be given to
this department.
�32
The Observatory.
In the ordinary working of an ordinary college, an observatory
can be dispensed with. But when an institution is to be made a
centre for men of the highest intellect,—when it is sought to in
crease knowledge,—when the aim is to bring every appliance to
bear in revealing the power of God and in developing the power
of man,—those in charge will naturally think of the establishment
of an observatory. So it has been almost without exception in
the great universities of the old world. So it has been at Har
vard College, at Yale, at the, University of Michigan, at the Uni
versity at Chicago, at the University of Alabama, at Hamilton Col
lege, and at Vassar College, in our own country.
It may be said that an observatory gives no part of what is
known as practical instruction. Even if it did not, the investi
gations which it aids are so noble, that the most severely practical
men have always held them in honor. But every man at all ac
quainted with higher education, will declare that the observatory
does promote practical education. From the observatories have
come some of the most practical benefactois of the race, and among
them, Newton, LaPlace, Lalande, Oersted, Arago, Mitchell. No
observatory was ever planned in a collegiate town, without stimu
lating greatly the study of the exact sciences, and thus promoting
progress and achievement in the departments where the exact
sciences bear practically upon the welfare of mankind.
We are sure that all the trustees join in our hope to see, at no
distant day, standing upon our grounds, an observatory which
shall be an honor to the State and Nation. No better gift could
be made by any of our wealthy citizens, and no nobler monument
could be reared by those who long to live in the memories of their
fellow men.
The cost of a suitable observatory varies. To erect a building
and place in it a telescope, meridian circle, astronomical clock, and
chronograph, wrould cost from forty thousand to eighty thousand
dollars, according to the size and perfection of the instruments.
The committee urge that this part of the equipment be not lost
sight of, though at present they do not recommend any applica
tion of funds for it.
�33
The Library.
The part of the equipment to which the committee would call
attention, finally, is the library. It is the culmination of all
touching all departments—meeting the needs of teachers and
taught. In it all Sciences and Arts meet; from it they draw a
vast part of their sustenance. We believe that, from the first, the
building up of a library suited to the wants of the institution, and
worthy of its aims, should be steadily kept in view. A large
library is absolutely necessary to the efficiency of the various de
partments. Without it, our men of the highest ability will be
frequently plodding in old circles and stumbling into old errors.
Say what we may of the necessity of original investigation, the
fact remains that science has never made great achievements save
when its votaries have had a plentiful supply of books wherein
to find necessary information and hints as to studies and investiga
tions. The history of the progress of modern science is the history
of development and accretion—development out of previous
thought and work—accretion upon previous thought and work.
The great progress in modern science is, to a very small degree,
the result of the original investigations of men removed from
access to the recorded labors of their predecessors.
This is the case with every science. To attempt either -of the
great functions of an university—the discovery of truth, or the
diffusion of truth, regarding the two main branches of our in
struction, Agriculture and Mechanics—without a liberal library,
would be to cripple these departments ; and to continue instruc
tion long in the departments generally without an ample library,
would be a farce, were it not so sad to see a body of professors,
ambitious to render services to science and to the institutions with
which they are connected, crippled by want of books.
What should be the character of the books ? It has been su<rgested that a library should be of the newest and best; that it
need only present the latest works as embodying the highest
results of thought. There is a germ of truth in this, which ought
to be borne in mind ; yet it should not be forgotten that there is
not a science or an art in which there are not some old investio-ations never superseded or surpassed.
There are multitudes of old works which must be within reach,
in order to an understanding of almost any science or art. The
general rule is, that a worthy library should possess the works of
every man who has made his mark in literature, science or the
3
�arts. This is true of different sciences and arts in different de
grees, but it is sufficiently true even of the most recent sciences
and arts, to show that no talk about old books and musty tomes
should for a moment delude us.
How should these books be obtained ?
Three methods suggest themselves : First, the different mem
bers of the Faculty might present lists of works in their several
departments, with indication of those most needed, and after a
collation of these lists by a committee, and a classification accord
ing to comparative necessity, purchases might be made from year
to year. This is an approved practical method, and is recom
mended.
But this does not cover the whole want of the institution. There
must be a reserved force of books. Very often a book necessary
to the success of an important investigation is not thought of until
the moment it is wanted. Very often a professor of great acquire
ments does not know where to find the record of an experiment;
and that hint at a method or fact of immense value to him, he
must seek in a full collection of works in his department, many
of which he would not think of naming as those most immediately
necessary.
The successful use of recent books, too, necessitates a large col
lection of those partially superseded. Partial quotations must
often be known wholly; doubtful quotations must often be verified.
A collection is needed as a centre to which men in all grades in
every kind of investigation may gather.
This can only be obtained by other methods. One of these is,
to take the catalogues of leading publishers and booksellers, and
having marked their valuable works, receive proposals for their
purchase. This is often a useful way, and is also recommended.
Another method of use in beginning a library, is the purchase
wholly, or in part, of carefully gathered special collections of
private individuals. Thus the University of Rochester purchased
the Neander Library, and Yale College the Thilo Library.
When and how can this be done ? Not in this country to any
extent, for nowhere in the world are valuable books sought so
eagerly and held so tenaciously. It is in foreign cities, and espe
cially in London, that collections of works in every department,
made by the most distinguished scholars, are brought under the
hammer of the auctioneer. Hardly a number of the London
Atheneeum is issued without advertisements of such collections.
�35
Within a very few years, the private library of Buckle, so full in
all its departments ; the private library of Lord Macaulay, con
taining vast stores in English history; the library of Humboldt,
containing the accumulations of his life ; and scores of others even
more important, have been thus broken up in the London market.
Your committee find that the prices of books thus disposed of
in mass are very low, except in the case of rarities competed for by
bibliomaniacs, and these are the very things for which the Univer
sity cares little or nothing. The solid material of a large library
*—the standard authorities and works of reference—the sets of
lieviews, periodicals and Journals of Societies, with few excep
tions, go at low prices. The committee are assured by one of its
members, who has himself frequented, and bought largely in these
sales, that collections of vast value, selected during a lifetime by
the most eminent scholars in various branched, and enriched often
with their notes, references and corrections, are constantly sold at
prices astonishingly low.
The committee, therefore, without recommending any hasty
action, would suggest that an eye be kept upon these frequent
sales, and that at the earliest convenient season an attempt be
made to avail ourselves of them.
It is also recommended that steps be taken to obtain for the
library certain valuable works published by foreign governments;
such as the wonderful Monographs upon the European Rural Popu
lation, by LePlay, published by the French government; and,
above all, in the department of Industrial Mechanics, the great
series of Patent Reports published by the English government,
copies of which are in the State Library at Albany, in the Astor
Library at New York, and in the Public Library at Boston. It
is believed that a copy can be obtained ot the English government
at the mere cost of mounting the plates and binding the several
volumes. A more valuable and appropriate work for that depart
ment could hardly be designated.
Preparation
of a
Code for
the
University.
To this committee was entrusted the preparation of a code of
laws for the government of the University. A large collection
of the statutes of different colleges has been made, but at the out
set a question meets us : What shall be the theory of discipline in
the institution ? Shall it be after the military pattern ; shall it be
the oidinaiy collegiate discipline which has been in part inherited
�36
from England ; shall it be an adaptation of the free university
system of continental Europe, where comparatively little is done
by college police, and much is left to the students themselves ? It
will be seen at once that this question must be decided before any
body of statutes is framed; for the radical difference between
these fundamental systems involves an entire difference between
the codes which express them. The first, the military system, has
undoubted advantages. It puts all students upon an equality in
mere outward advantages of dress, style and living ; it subjects
students to a more perfect control; it gives from among the stu
dents, officers to aid in enforcing rigid discipline. On the other
hand, the uniformity in dress, which is admired by some as con
tributing to equality, deprives the professor of one of his best
means of knowing who are before him in the lecture room,—how
he shall deal with individuals, and what allowances are to be made.
None acquainted with the best American colleges, will hesitate to
declare that, as a rule, no student loses anything among his pro
fessors or his fellow students, by clothing indicating poverty
and frugality. It is only in after life that this makes an impor
tant difference. In no community on earth is man estimated so
exactly by what is supposed to be his real worth, as in a commu
nity of college students. No collections of men were ever more
democratic. The rigid military government, it is believed, could
not possibly be applied to the whole University: for, by the fun
damental theory of the institution, there will be students of a great
number of different grades,—some attending merely courses of
lectures for a single season; some in regular courses of several
years ; some men not far from middle age ; some far below their
majority • some residing in the college building; some residing
in the town. While, therefore, military instruction must always
form part of the courses, it is not recommended that the govern
ment be military, except, perhaps, in some single departments,
where efficiency may be promoted by military forms.
As to the next system, the ordinary collegiate plan, although
to a certain extent it may have to be adopted on account of our
partial resort to dormitories, yet the system as a finality is not
favored by the committee.
The system of university freedom of government is believed by
the committee to be our best government. In this system laws
are few but speedily executed, and the University is regarded
neither as an asylum nor a reform school. Much is trusted to the
�manliness of the students. The attempt is to teach the students
to govern themselves, and to cultivate acquaintance and confidence
between Faculty and students. This the committee believe is pos
sible. They believe that by rigid execution of a few disciplinary
laws • by promotion of pleasant, extra-official intercourse between
teachers and taught, in ways hereafter to be specified ■ by placing
professors over students, not as police, but as a body of friends,
this government may be made to work better than any other. The
boundaries between government of students by university autho
rities and government by town authorities, will be discussed else
where.
The committee will, on a future day, recommend a simple pledge
and ceremony of matriculation, having in view self-governmenf by
the students.
Having thus given a basis for a code, we think it best to defer
details until a future report. The necessity for by-laws is not im
mediate, and much light can, it is believed, be gained from the
Faculty about to be chosen.
Remunerative Manual Labor
by
Students.
One of the most interesting questions which arises in the estab
lishment of our departments of Agriculture and the Mechanic Arts,
regards the experiment of employing students at manual labor
during a portion of the day.
The argument generally used of late against this experiment is,
that it has been tried several times unsuccessfully.
This argument would have more force were it shown that the
institutions where the manual labor system has failed, have had
the means of trying the experiments fully and fairly. It is be
lieved that such has not been the case, and that our country has
seen no institution having such ample means of trying this experi
ment as has the Cornell University. Nor is it true, as is often
loosely stated, that this experiment has uniformly failed. The
reports of the State Agricultural College of Michigan, at Lansing,
show that its success there, if not brilliant, is substantial. Several
young men have supported themselves entirely, paying their fee
of tuition, room rent, board, fuel, washing, clothing, books and
traveling expenses out of their earnings upon the college pro
perty ; and a very large number in the same way have paid their
expenses partially.
Your committee are satisfied that the University ought to try
�38
this experiment. We are not, however, prepared to recommend
that every student in the University be required to do a certain
amount of manual labor. This we think would impose fetters
upon the student body, very dangerous to that character of
breadth and freedom which we hope to establish.
If, as is certain to be frequently the case, a student advanced
in years considerably beyond the usual student age, and who
already has labored and accumulated means to defray his expenses,
presents himself and wishes, in the shortest time possible, to tit
himself for a place as engineer, superintendent of chemical works,
or scientific miner, it would seem doubtful policy to force him
to give those hours which he desires to crowd with study, to
manual labor in which he has had full experience, and remunera
tion which he does not need.
True, it is often urged that the student can do more and better
mental work, with deduction of two or three hours of physical
labor, than without it. Though not one man in a million among
men at large acts upon this belief, it may be so among students.
But, until this theory proves itself by practice, we believe that it
would be a great mistake to attempt to place the entire University
rigidly upon this basis. When, in our progress here, this theory
shall be substantiated, there will be ample opportunity to enforce
this system in all the departments.
Again : Your committee are by no means certain that physical
labor among young men can be made to take wholly the place of
athletic sports and gymnastic exercises in giving restoration from
mental labor. Even if it keep up bodily strength, it seems hardly
possible that the minds of young men could be kept fresh, elastic
and energetic, when the only relief from tension is the change
from one form of labor to another.
We understand that even in manual labor schools it has been
found necessary to give some time to free, manly sports and games.
But there is one practical objection which will doubtless be
conclusive, even if theoretical objections are not.
If any such number of students as we expect, enter the Univer
sity, we could not provide labor for all of them.
The State University of Michigan, with far less attractions than
we hope to present, has fifteen hundred (1500) students. At two
hours a day of manual labor by each student,—and this is an hour
less than the usual allowance,—granting that the different divi
sions of working students succeed each other with perfect preci
�39
sion, one corps taking up the tools the instant the previous corps
throws them down, there would be a constant force to be profitably
employed and paid, equivalent to three hundred (300) laborers,
and the University cannot employ any such force with profit for
any long time.
But while we do not recommend general compulsory labor, we
are in favor of organizing corps of laboring students, and holding
out every inducement to join them ; and we are not prepared to
say that it may not be necessary to require manual labor from all
the students in some special departments.
We believe that a system of manual labor, rightly organized,
will work to the mutual advantage of the University and the stu
dents. There is a large amount of labor required at once upon
the ornamental grounds and the farm. There are trees to be
felled, roads and paths to be cut, depressions to be filled, eleva
tions to be graded down. There will be much work requiring
mere physical ability, and there will be much requiring the scien
tific guidance of the Professors of Agriculture, of LandscapeGardening and Engineering.
It will also be of use to the students in their muscular develop
ment, and we believe can be made to give substantial aid to many
pecuniarily.
Physical Culture.
Many plans of education have given goodly place to Physical
Culture in theory ; very few have given any adequate place to it
in practice.
No mistake could be more unfortunate. Better the mere rudi
ments of knowledge with a body sound, firm and strong, than the
best culture of the schools with a body permanently emaciated and
debilitated.
It is one of the strange things in the history of education, that
American votaries of classical scholarship have been so neglectful
of that bodily culture which, in the ancient civilization they justly
honor, was the main culture.
We cannot insist upon this part of an education too strongly.
As long as highly educated men are dyspeptics, so long will they
be deprived of their supremacy in society by uneducated eupevand so it ought to be.
We recommend: First, that in all, except the Optional Course,
attendance be required on a plain series of lectures upon Anatomy,
Physiology and Hygiene.
�40
Secondly, that there be provided, at the opening of the Univer
sity, a well-equipped Gymnasium, and that training in it, or equi
valent training in manual labor or exercises in the open air, be
obligatory upon all.
Thirdly, that an instructor in Gymnastics be appointed, who
shall conduct exercises at the gymnasium under some careful pro
gressive system, with as much regularity and under as stringent
rules regarding attendance and decorum, as are observed in any
college exercise whatever.
Fourthly, that in arranging hours for study, recitations or lec
tures, physical training be regarded as equally entitled to conside
ration with mental training, and that a regular and sufficient time
be always allowed for that purpose.
Fifthly, that grounds be set apart for the national game of base
ball, and that the formation of clubs be encouraged; also that
encouragement be given to the formation of clubs for boating upon
Lake Cayuga.
Sixthly, that the experiment be tried of framing an university
statute to the effect that deterioration in physical culture will be
held in the same category with want of progress in mental cul
ture, and that either will subject the delinquent to deprivation of
university privileges.
Seventhly, in view of the importance and practical novelty of
this whole subject, it is recommended that to the regular standing
committees of the Board of Trustees there be added a “ Committee
upon Physical Culture.”
Military Education.
It is recommended that the requirements of the congressional
law be met by careful provisions for teaching Military Engineer
ing and Tactics, and that the Board of Trustees at an early day
adopt some plan for encouraging military drill, or for making it
obligatory.
Actual Commencement of Instruction.
4
The committee would also report as to the actual commencement of instruction,—the practical beginning of general university
operations.
A sufficient number of professors having been secured, it is
recommended that at least three (3) months before the opening
of the University, an advertisement be inserted in papers of wide
�41
circulation, stating concisely the day when the examinations for
admissions begin, the courses of instruction, the professors and
their departments, the charges for instruction, the approximate
charges for board and lodging, the number and character of free
Scholarships, the duties of school commissioners in examining can
didates for them under the charter, and the names of persons to
■whom applications may be made for further details.
The University Year.
It is recommended that there be two terms in the University
year ; the first commencing on the second Thursday of September
and ending on the third week-day preceding Christmas ; the
second term commencing on the third week-day following New
Year’s day, and ending upon the third Thursday in June, when
shall be held the annual Commencement.
In order, however, to commemorate an event which the insti
tution ought ever to hold in remembrance, and, incidentally, to
give some intermission in the second term, which is much longer
than the first, it is recommended that the ordinary exercises be
Suspended on the fourteenth day of May, the day wThen the act
incorporating the University was passed, and that that day be
forever known as Founder’s Day, and that exercises be then held
expressive of gratitude to the benefactors of the University, and
to renew the memory of their benefactions.
It is recommended that some inaugural exercises be held at or
near the beginning of the first term.
Fees.
In nothing do American institutions of learning vary more than
in the fees required of students. At Yale College the charges
are as follows :
For tuition .................
$45
rent and care of one-half* room, average_________ 20
expenses of public rooms, repairs, &c._______ ___ 10
use of gymnasium_____ ______ _________ ____
4
society tax________________ ____ ____
g
Besides these, there are charges at graduation amounting to
average price of board, $5.50.
I11 the Massachusetts Institute of' Technology, at Boston, the
�42
fees in the first year arc $100; second year, $125; third and
fourth, $150 each.
At Harvard College the fees are as follows :
Instruction, library and lecture rooms, and gymnasium___ $104
Rent and care of room, &c._________________________
28
Special repairs_________ _______ ______________ ____
1
$133
Board is said to range from $4.50 to $7 per week.
In the Lawrence Scientific School, at Cambridge, the student
taking the courses of chemistry, engineering, botany, &c., pays in
regular fees each year, from $250 to $300.
In the Cambridge School of Mines, the fees are, for the first
year, $150, and $200 for each succeeding year.
At the State University of Michigan, by the catalogue of 1866,
any student from without the State pays a matriculation fee of
$20, and an annual fee of $-5.
At Dartmouth College, tuition in the Scientific School is, per
annum, $36 in the third and fourth, and $42 per annum in the
first and second years. In the College proper, the fees are :
For tuition.........................
$51
room rent from $6 to------------- ----------------------- 12
$57 to $63
At Hamilton College the tuition is .................
$45
Room rent........ ............
9
Sweeping and contingencies--------------- ------------------ 21
$75
At the State Agricultural College of Michigan, at Lansing,
tuition to students from that State is free, but from all other
States, per annum, $20 ; room rent, $4 ; matriculation fee, $5.
From this great diversity no rule can be deduced. After con
sideration, the committee, although there are one hundred and
twenty-eight (128) free scholarships already provided by law, and
although it is believed that instruction of the very best kind will
be furnished, have concluded to suggest that the charges for the
first year be very low, and they present the following schedule :
Matriculation fee------------------ --------------------------- - $15
Annual fees at $10 per term........................................... 20
$35
�43
For room rent they have based their calculations upon the per
centage which the dormitories ought to contribute upon the outlay
for them, arranging the rents so as to give a return of seven (7)
per cent per annum. The rent of a full suite of rooms in the main
building would be 55 cents, 73 cents, 109 cents per week for each
student, according as they have four, three or two occupants.
Arranging rents so as to bring a return of four per cent per
annum, the charges would be 32 cents, 42 cents, 63 cents per
week, according as the suites of rooms are occupied by four, three
or two persons.
But it is not expected that any large number of the students
can be accommodated in the University dormitories. There are
provided in the first building, accommodations for from sixtv-four
to one hundred and twenty-eight students. But it is believed
that these will fall short of the accommodations required.
It is not doubted that the citizens of Ithaca will do their utmost,
even subjecting themselves to inconvenience, in providing rooms
for students. And it is believed that they will do this at the
lowest terms possible ; for nothing could be more unfortunate for
the town and University than at the outset to have the impression
gain ground that student lodgings in Ithaca are costly.
Board.
In regard to board, the committee are decidedly .of the opinion
that the trustees should have nothing to do with furnishing it,
unless events force them to do so. For this the citizens of Ithaca
must be relied upon entirely. The same necessity for liberal
treatment and low prices obtains in regard to board as in regard
to lodgings. And in view of the great importance of a right
beginning in this matter, it is recommended that the President of
the Board designate a committee of the citizens of Ithaca, who
shall bring the matter before their fellow citizens and obtain assur
ances which shall enable the trustees in their first announcement
to offer, with the other attractions of the institution, the very
decided one of cheap rates of lodgings and board.
The same citizen’s committee should also be relied upon to fur
nish the University steward with names of persons willing to
accommodate students, and with lists of prices, so as to provide
at once for students on their arrival.
If, however, such appeal be unsuccessful, which is not believed
possible, it is recommended that the executive committee be em
�44
powered to lease in the town, or erect upon the college grounds,
a dining hall and kitchen, with the full understanding, however,
that the University shall not undertake to manage it further than
to lease it to the students. The students thus leasing it, shall
choose their own stewards, employ their own servants, purchase
their own provisions, and manage it in their own way, except that
the trustees may vote to advance money to the clubs thus formed,
to purchase leading articles of supply at wholesale, according to
the system recently established in the Yale College dining clubs ;
and the University authorities shall take measures, in case of need,
to preserve general decency and order.
Fuel.
It is strongly recommended that the University purchase fuel
at wholesale, to be retailed to the students at cost. This plan is
found to work beneficially at Yale, Harvard and many other
colleges.
The Dormitory System.
Two radically different ideas as to the function of an Univer
sity have produced two different systems of lodging students and
of supervision of them while not engaged in public exercises.
Under the first, the student is lodged in a dormitory and kept,
or rather supposed to be kept, under surveillance of the Univer
sity authorities. Under the second, lodging and any other than
general surveillance are looked upon as outside the proper
function of an University, and the student left to make arrange
ment for his lodging as any other person coming for a time into
the town would do, subject to certain general regulations by the
University. Care of him as a citizen is left to the town authori
ties ■ care of him as a member of a family, to the household with
which he is lodged—the University, of course, reserving the right
to inflict penalties for offences against University common law and
statutes.
The committee believe the latter system the more sound in
theory and the more satisfactory in practice. Large bodies of
students collected in dormitories often arrive at a degree of tur
bulence which small parties, gathered in the houses of citizens,
seldom if ever reach. No private citizen, who lets rooms in his
own house to four or six students, would tolerate for an hour the
anarchy which most tutors in charge of college dormitories are
compelled to overlook.
�45
But even were the discipline of dormitories thoroughly en
forced; the system tends to put the professorial corps in the atti
tude of policemen. And the situation is made all the worse by
the fact that the professor is armed with no authority under the
law of the land, and so comes to be regarded not even as a police
man, but as a spy—not as a judge, but as an inquisitor. Nothing
could be more fatal to hearty, kindly relations between teachers
and taught.
The dormitory system, as it has existed at Oxford and Cam
bridge, has been carried out logically in the construction of quad
rangles—great enclosures from which egress at unsuitable hours
is supposed to be rendered difficult, and in which good order can
be more easily maintained. That even this most costly plan has
failed every one knows, who has at all looked into the subject;
blit even the poor merit of the English system seems wanting
among ns,
The reasons for adopting even temporarily any modification of
the dormitory system in a new institution like ours, are two :
First, the necessity of some check upon persons disposed to ask
too large a price for student lodgings. Secondly, the necessity
of observations, experiments and work upon the college land by
large numbers of students. Of these reasons the first weighs
little ; the second, it is hoped, will weigh less and less as the
village of Ithaca is extended nearer and nearer to the University
domain ;—but they have been strong enough to induce the Board
of Trustees to erect a dormitory in which are provided tasteful
and well-ventilated study and sleeping rooms for from sixty-four
to ninety-six students. It is believed that no better accommoda
tions are afforded in any college within the United States.
It is recommended, however, that at the outset the policy of
tbe trustees be declared to be in favor of making residence in the
college buildings a reward of good work and conduct, and that
good order in every student hall be entrusted to the self-govern
ing powers of the students residing in it, with a full understanding
that the University authorities will enter into no inquisitorial pro
cess to discover the authors of disorder, but that if the tenants are
not able to maintain good order, they must give place en masse
to those who can. If this does not accomplish the purpose, the
hall should be closed altogether.
It is hoped that ere many years accommodations for students
may be mainly provided among citizens residing in neat, tidy
�46
dwellings bordering upon the University property. In these a|
kindly, restraining family influence would be exercised upon stu-|nja^|ofi(|#1 1
dents, never found in the prevalent poor imitation of the EnglisMaH^ifeEW
semi-monastic system.
1
The committee are decidedly opposed to any large adoption ofl
a dormitory system.
Relations between the Cornell University and other Insti-I
tutions of Learning in the State.
It is believed that the institution now to be founded can be
brought into perfect harmony with the sister institutions of the hl
State, While we hope for large numbers of students, it is highly fmmiQi,
4-1------------------ K---------- . .U„
-ly
[ij
improbable that the number at the .a.._ collegeswill 1be any M*
other
smaller than at present. Facilities for education, like facilities'!
for travel, increase the number of those using them. In this great,
commonwealth of four million souls, there is work for all.
.[Ji
So far from injuring the existing colleges, it is hoped that we s*'
can benefit them in one way at least most gratifying to their officers. In the Faculties of these colleges are some of the best^W Wp
minds in the country—some of the noblest men.' They are to-dayj
almost without exception, kept upon salaries wretchedly inadequate, and to a number of students far less than ought to enjdJ^MjW^W
the benefit of their teachings.
By our plan of Non-resident Professors, we can avail ourselvew
of the talents of these men—can give them a larger field and
newer, and can add to their salaries sums which will enable them |i
to work more freely in the colleges with which they are immediately connected. This plan also offers an incentive to every active
professor in every college, to distinguish himself as an investigatoiwO^bsfci
or instructor in some department, and thus will benefit science amH
education at large.
•
a
Relations
of the
a
University with the School System of the !
State.
The provisions of the charter of the Cornell University show k
that its promoters recognized the necessity of a vital connection
with the school system of the State. As that system is the sulm
stratum of all we hope to build, it cannot be left out of sight. It
ought never to be forgotten that we arc to draw life from it, and
that we must return life into it. No scholastic traditions should jWfemi.-fi
lead us to slight or undervalue this relation. It will be a greatj
�47
honor to us if we knit our work as an esteemed part, into the fabric
of education for a commonwealth of four millions of people.
Pains have been taken to establish a relation such as has never
existed between the system and any existing college. The Super
intendent of Public Instruction is ex officio a trustee, and thus
forms a vital link in the connection. The provision in the act of
incorporation regarding the choice of students to scholarships in
the different assembly districts, brings us directly into relations
with the whole body of school commissioners throughout the
State. Our labor should be to strengthen the ties thus established.
Entering heartily into this vast educational work, so cherished by
the people of this State, we are strong—holding ourselves aloof
from it, we are weak indeed.
irrnt
-»q
fonii
arm!
>" 9flt
itav<
iufeH
A Special Test in our Work.
In the arrangement of departments and in provision for them,
there is one test very simple and very effectual—the original Law
of Congress. That law we must neither wrest nor warp. We
f^iica must satisfy its requirements without mental reservation. We
must never lose sight of that great body of men to whose mental
needs the act makes special reference, and of whom it speaks as
the “ industrial classes.’7
ff. p The munificence of our founder does, indeed, enable us to add
to this provision; but nothing can allow us to take from it.
The monstrous perversion of trusts recently revealed by the
il'is^l Parliamentary Commission on Collegiate Education in England,
fguig must find no parallel here.
iiT 5
That original law will not fetter us in our endeavors to give the
qoaq people of this State the most advanced university privileges.
irrsq Having guarded us from a common error, and secured certain
faoT •;reat branches of practical education, it gives us by express declaroiii; ations the largest university scope—only insisting that we keep
n view the real wants of this land and people.
bl J
[tT J
The General Test
in
University Education.
The committee have now considered the practical questions
most likely to arise at the beginning of our work. That all such
questions have been met, is not claimed. In regard, however,
Ito those which may hereafter arise, we desire in conclusion to
present a general principle, fundamental and formative—a prin
ciple to serve as a test and guide ;—it is the principle so admirably
T
�enunciated by Wilhelm von Humboldt, and elaborated by John
Stuart Mill: “ The. great and leading principle is the absolute and
essential importance of human development in its richest diversity.”
This we conceive to express the object of any really great institu
tion of learning; this our founder proclaimed in his declaration
already cited.
This principle we believe can only be made operative through
the greatest freedom in study consistent with an University organ
ization—freedom in choice of studies—freedom in range of studies.
Development under this principle—moral, intellectual and phy
sical—Can only be normal and healthful in an atmosphere of love
of truth, beauty and goodness,’and adoration of the Centre of
truth, beauty and goodness.
We have under our charter no right to favor any sect or to pro
mote any creed. No one can be accepted or rejected as trustee,
professor or student, because of any opinions and theories which
he may or may not hold. On that point our charter is most care
fully guarded, and made to conform to the fundamental ideas of
our Republic—ideas which too many institutions of learning have
forgotten. Fervor, valor and strength in labors for truth, goodness and beauty, are the qualities to be sought in those who are
to work here; and if we secure men of this fervor, valor and
strength, we may be sure that, whatever their individual theories
on this or that dogma, their joint labors will be for the glory of
God and the elevation of man.
Upon the members of the Board the committee desire to im
press the necessity of earnest thought and energetic action. A
trusteeship of this University will be no sinecure. Never was a
nobler trust confided to any body of men. May we all feel our
great responsibilities in this matter, and work earnestly to dis
charge them; and in laying these foundations may we have the
blessing of Heaven, that all may be fitly builded.
ANDREW D. WHITE,
(Signed.)
Tor the Committee on Organization.
1
I
���
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Report of the Committee on Organization, presented to the trustees of the Cornell University, October 21st 1866
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Conway Tracts
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JEWISH LITERATURE
AND
MODERN EDUCATION:
OR,
THE USE AND MISUSE OF THE BIBLE IN
THE SCHOOLROOM.
BEING TWO LECTURES DELIVERED BEFORE THE SUNDAY LECTURE
SOCIETY, MARCH 26th AND APRIL 2d 1871.
PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR,
BT
THOMAS SCOTT, RAMSGATE.
Price One Shilling and Sixpence, stitched.
On better paper and bound in cloth, Two Shillings and Sixpence.
�“ These were more noble than those in Thessalonica, in that
they
.
.
.
searched the Scriptures daily, whether those
things were so.”—Acts xvii. 11.
�PREFACE.
Whether or not the Solution, given in these Lectures,
of the “Religious Difficulty” in our National Education,
be acceptable for practical application, is a question other
than that of the intrinsic soundness of that Solution.
It is to this only that my responsibility extends. The
responsibility of declining to accept a proffered remedy
must rest with those to whom the offer is made.
I had intended to keep these Lectures in manuscript,
and repeat them wherever an audience might be found
desirous of hearing facts stated without respect to aught
but the facts. It is in compliance with very many
and pressing solicitations that I have, by printing them,
withdrawn them from further delivery as Public Lectures.
My hope now is that the readers will not be less nume
rous than the hearers would have been, had I adhered
to my original intention.
The Lectures are printed with the changes made on
their second delivery, in Edinburgh.
I cannot let them
�iv
Preface.
go from me without acknowledging my obligations to
the series of small publications issued periodically by
Mr Thomas Scott of Ramsgate, to whose indefatigable
self-devotion to the cause of “ Free Inquiry and Free
Expression,” the present rapid spread of information,
and consequent movement of thought on religious
matters, especially among the clergy of the Establish
ment,—(a movement far greater than the public is aware
of)—is in no small degree attributable. The tracts
entitled, The Defective Morality of the New Testament, by
Professor F. W. Newman; The Gospel of the Kingdom,
and The Influence of Sacred History on the Intellect and
Conscience,—especially deserve mention for the use I
have made of them.
A few brief passages given as
quotations, but without reference, are for the most part
taken, with more or less exactness, from The Pilgrim and
the Shrine.
E. M.
London, September 1871.
�SYNOPSIS.
LECTURE THE FIRST.
KOri 3TIOS
.11.
J2.
.83.
i4.i 5.
’ .‘< 6.
7.
- , J 8..
: .(9.
INTRODUCTION,
.....
DEFINITION AND FUNCTION OF EDUCATION,
THE SCHOOL BOARDS AND THE “RELIGIOUS DIFFICULTY,”
THE GENESIS AND HABITAT OF THE “DIFFICULTY,”
THE BIBLE AS A MORAL TEACHER,
THE BIBLE AS AN INTELLECTUAL TEACHER,
THE BIBLE “WITHOUT NOTE OR COMMENT,”
THE GOSPELS AND THE CHARACTER OF JESUS,
.
THE “KINGDOM OF HEAVEN,”
1
3
6
11
12
24
27
35
37
LECTURE THE SECOND.
.0110.
ill.
THE NEW TESTAMENT AS A RULE OF LIFE AND FAITH,
.
41
THE “CONTINUITY OF SCRIPTURE,” DOCTRINAL AND
OTHER,
.
.
.
.
.
.48
12. WHY THE BIBLE SHOULD BE TAUGHT IN OUR SCHOOLS, .
57
13. HOW IT SHOULD BE DEALT WITH,
.
.
.65
;14. “notes and comments;” the principle of thf.tr
CONSTRUCTION,
.....
69
115. BIBLICAL INFALLIBILITY,
.
.
.
.74
16. BIBLICAL INSPIRATION,
.
.
.
.78
17. THE BIBLE AND MODERN COMMENTATORS,
.
.
86
>18. THE BIBLE AND MODERN PRACTICE,
.
.
.88
19. THE SCHOOL AND TEACHER OF THE FUTURE, .
.
94
��LECTURE THE FIRST.
------- o-------
I.
Why is it with, us in England, that with all our achieve
ments in Science, Literature, and Art; in Government,
Industry, and Warfare; in Honour, Religion, and Virtue;
with conquests ranging over the whole threefold domain
of Humanity, the Physical, the Intellectual, and the
Moral,—why is it that the moment we attempt to ex
tend the manifold blessings of our civilisation to the
entire mass of our countrymen, we find ourselves at fault
and utterly baffled 1
Long has the condition of myriads among us been
known to be terrible in its degradation. Long have we
acknowledged an earnest desire to raise them out of that
condition. Measure after measure have we devised and
enacted; but none of them, not even the vast Church
establishment of the realm, has proved in any degree
commensurate with the evil. At length our efforts have
culminated in the elaboration and enactment of one
comprehensive scheme; and we have proceeded so far as
to have elected as our representatives to carry it into
effect, those of us whom, for superior intelligence and
energy, we deem best qualified for the task.
Shortlived, however, do our exultant hopes promise to
�2
'Jewish Literature
be. The very agents of our beneficent intentions, the
Schoolboards, in whose hands are borne the germs of our
redemption and future civilisation, are altogether at such
odds within themselves upon some of the leading and
most essential principles, that the scheme threatens
wholly to collapse in disheartening failure, or to become
a perennial source of bitterness and dissension.
Is it not passing strange ? Based though our culture
has for centuries been, upon one and the self-same book,
so far from our having attained any degree of unity
thereby, we are divided and rent into sects and factions
innumerable and irreconcilable, until it would appear as
if the very spirit of that proverbially perverse and stiff
necked people whose sacred literature we have adopted
as the rule of our faith and practice, had passed into
ourselves and become a constituent part of our very
nature.
The greatness of the emergency,—for it is the redemp
tion of our masses from pauperism, ignorance, and bar
barism that is at stake,—not justifies merely, but impe
ratively demands the strenuous collaboration of all who,
having the good of their kind at heart, have made this
question one of special investigation. It is in no spirit
of hasty presumption,—scarcely is it with much hope of
wide acceptance,—at least in the present,—that I have
responded to the invitation to recite here to-day the con
clusions to which my study of the points at issue has
brought me. Rather is it that it will be a relief to my
self to have thrown off the reflections and results which,
in a somewhat varied experience at home and abroad,
have accumulated upon me, and to feel that I have done
this at the time when there is most chance of their being
useful. It is thus that I have prepared my contribution
�and Modern Education.
3
towards the solution of “ the Religious Difficulty ” which
lies “ a lion in the path ” of our National Education and
all our national improvement, showing as- yet not the
smallest symptom of discomposure through any “ Reso
lution ” of Metropolitan or other School-board.
II.
In all emergencies, whether of conduct or of opinion,
where there is doubt and space for deliberation, it is
best to go back to the very beginning of the matter, and
there, in its initial principles, seek the clue which is to
conduct us safely out of our dilemma. It is wonderful
sometimes how readily a skein is disentangled when
once the right end of the thread has been found. Our
friends across the Atlantic, the Americans, were for a long
time disastrously hampered in their attempts at legisla
tion. It is not surprising that it should have been so,
when we consider that the principal object of legislation
is Man, and that the two great sections of the American
community differed altogether in their definition of Man;
the one holding that persons who had dark complexions
and a peculiar kind of rough curly hair, several millions
of whom lived in the country, were not men L and the
other holding that they were just as much entitled to be
treated as human beings as people with light complexions
and smooth hair. At length, after many years of bitter
quarrelling, ending with one of the most fearful inter
necine conflicts ever known, it was agreed to regard all
people as human, and to legislate alike for them with per
fect equality; whereupon the difficulty entirely vanished,
and the course of the nation became smooth and easy.
In like manner our difficulties, in regard to popular
�4
Jewish Literature
instruction, have all arisen through our neglect of a de
finition. We have not defined to ourselves the precise
object of the system of National Education, which, after
generations of anxious endeavour, we have at length
succeeded in obtaining, and which we are now seeking
to bring into operation throughout the length and
breadth of the land.
The first step towards obtaining what we want, ever
is to know what we want; and since in this case we
cannot purchase the article ready-made, but have to
fabricate it for ourselves, it is not sufficient to have a
bare name for it, or a vague apprehension about it, but
we must be conversant with its nature, characteristics,
and uses.
Let us further simplify and enlarge the scope of the
question, and ask what is the object of all the education,
public or private, which we give, or seek to give, to our
children ? What, in short, is the purpose of education 1
Using the term education in its broad sense, and
without reference to technical instruction in special
subjects, we can only answer, that its purpose is to
make children into good and capable men and women by
cultivating their intelligence and their moral sense, or
conscience.
It follows, if we agree to this definition, that we are
bound to reject as worse than useless, any instruction
which is calculated to repress or pervert either of those
faculties from their proper healthy development.
Those who at first hesitate to acquiesce in this defini
tion, in the belief that education should have a more
special object, such as to make good Christians, good
Catholics, good Protestants, good Churchmen, or good
Nonconformists, must on a little reflection perceive that
�and Modern Education.
5
they cannot really mean to rank the intelligence and
moral sense as secondary and subordinate to such ends,
but that they only desire people to be good Christians,
good Churchmen, and so on, because the fact of being so
would, in their view, involve the best culture of the
faculties in question. So that if they believed it did not
involve this end, they would abandon their preference
for such denominations. That is, they would rather
have people to be good men and bad (say) Noncon
formists, than good Nonconformists and bad men.
Agreeing, then, that the object of education is the
development of the intellect and moral sense, we shall,
no doubt, further agree that the best chance of success
fully cultivating those desirable qualities which we
designate virtues, lies in impressing the mind while
young with the most elevated and winning examples of
them, and guarding it from any familiarity with their
opposites ; and that it is because we deem such qualities
to be best, that we regard the Deity as possessing them
in the Infinite, and hold up as a pattern of life the most
perfect example of them in the finite.
Yet, though agreeing both in the object and method
of education when thus plainly put before us, so ingeni
ously perverse and inconsistent are we that we first
refuse to agree upon any common system of instruction
whatever, and then we insist upon neutralising or
vitiating such instruction as we do agree upon, by
mingling it with teaching which is at once repressive of
the Intellect, and injurious to the Moral Sense.
The sole impediment to the success of our efforts, the
rock upon which all our hopes of rescuing the mass of our
countrymen from ignorance and barbarism are in danger
of being dashed, consists in the unreasoning and indis
�6
'Jewish Literature
criminate veneration in which the Bible is popularlyheld among us. Impelled by that veneration, we hesi
tate not to degrade our children’s view of Deity by
familiarising them with a literature in which He is
represented as feeble, treacherous, implacable, and
unjust; and confound at once their Intelligence and
Moral Sense, by compelling them to regard that litera
ture as altogether divine and infallible.
Strange infatuation and inconsistency, if, after toiling
for years to obtain an effective system of national edu
cation, we either abandon the task as hopeless, or insist
upon accompanying it by teaching which involves a fatal
outrage upon the very intellect and conscience which it
is the express purpose of that education to foster and
develop!
III.
Before' considering the action of the School-boards, I
must advert for a moment to the principle of their constitution.
There is this difference between Government by Re
presentation and Government by Delegation. It is the
‘ duty of the mere delegate to vote on any given question
precisely as a majority of his constituents may instruct
him. The deliberative function rests with them. He is
their faithful, but unintelligent instrument. The repre
sentative, on the contrary, is selected on account of his
superior faculties or attainments, to go on behalf of his
constituents to the headquarters of information, and
there, in conference with other selected intellects, form
the best judgment in his power; his constituents deter
mining only the general principles and direction of his
policy.
�and Modern Education.
7
The School-boards which are charged with the deter
mination of our new educational system, having been
selected on this principle of representation, we are
entitled to look to their superior intelligence to sup
plement popular deficiencies ; to be superior to popular
prejudices; to be teachers, and, if need be, rebukers,
rather than followers and flatterers of the less instructed
masses : and it is due to such bodies that we carefully
examine the methods by which they propose to deal with
existing difficulties.
Those difficulties turning exclusively upon Religion,
one great step towards their solution has been gained by
the agreement to exclude from the common schools such
minor subjects of difference as the creeds and catechisms
of particular denominations. The Bible remains, the sole
stumbling-block and rock of offence.
The London Board may be taken as representative
not only of the largest and most intelligent. body of
constituents, but also of all the other School-boards. I
propose, therefore, to deal with the propositions by
which the members of that Board have sought to meet
the “religious difficulty.” They are six in number :
1. That the Bible be excluded altogether, on the
ground that its admission is inconsistent with religious
equality.
2. That the Bible be admitted and read,, but without
note or comment.
3. That the Bible be read for the purpose of religious
culture, at the discretion of the teacher.
4. That the teacher’s discretion in the use of the Bible
be so restricted as to exclude the distinctive doctrines of
any sect.
5. That no principle respecting the use of the Bible
�8
'Jewish Literature
be laid down, but that each separate school be dealt with
by itself.
6. That the Bible be read with such explanations in
matters of language, history, customs, &c., as may be
needed to make its meaning plain; and that there be
given such instruction in its teaching, on the first prin
ciples of morality and religion, as is suitable to the
capacities of children; always excluding denominational
teaching.
The Fifth Resolution, “ that no principle be laid down,”
aptly describes the condition of the question up to that
point. In the absence of a definition of its object, it
was impossible for the Board to lay down any principle
for its guidance. In the absence of any controlling
definition, it could only look back to its constituents to
see what they would bear from it. And looking to the
confused mass of public opinion and prejudice in the
absence of any light of one’s own, is like shutting one’s
eyes to avoid seeing the dark.
Travelling one day by a railway on which there are
several tunnels, I observed that whenever the train
entered a tunnel, a little boy who sat next to me, im
mediately pressed his hands over his eyes, and buried his
face in the cushions. To my inquiry why he did this,
he answered that it was because he was afraid of the
dark. I asked him whether it was not just as dark to
him when his face was buried in the cushions. He said
yes; but he had not thought of that, and he would not
know now what to do. I could not bear to deprive him
of his faith, however unenlightened, without giving him
another. A lamp was burning in the roof of the car
riage, too dim in the broad daylight to have attracted
his attention, yet bright enough to dispel the gloom of
�and Modern Education.
9
the tunnel. I suggested that, instead of covering his
face, he would do better to keep his eyes fixed on the
lamp. The little fellow brightened with joy at the
thought; and during the rest of the journey, the in
stant we entered a tunnel, there he was, no longer fear
ful and burying himself in deeper darkness, but steadfastly
looking to the light that shone above him.
“ Look to the light 1 ” is no bad maxim even for those
who have to determine grave questions for the benefit
of others. We have but to “look to the light” of the
definition we have already agreed upon, and difficulties
fly like darkness before the approaching dawn. Even
the difficulties themselves, like Daphne before the Sun
god, are apt to turn into flowers for our delectation. .
The Sixth Resolution, that proposed by Dr Angus, and
supported by Professor Huxley, is the first that shows
any consciousness that there is a light to which we may
look for encouragement and guidance. “ That instruc
tion should be given in the Bible on the first principles of
morality and religion” According to our definition, Edu
cation consists in the cultivation of the Intelligence and
the Moral Sense. This is the light on which the gaze
must be so steadily fixed, that no conflicting influences
shall be capable of diverting our attention. Interpreted
by it, the Bible itself bears witness to the way in which
it should be used. Here, in full accordance with it, is
one of its utterances, “ God is no respecter of persons;
but in every nation, he that feareth Him and worketh
righteousness, is accepted with Him.” (Acts x. 34-5.)
Acting in this spirit, our School-boards will be no re
specters of authors or books, but in every writing that,
and that only, “ which feareth God and worketh righte
ousness,” shall be accepted by them. Here is another,
�io
J
’ ewish Literature
also on the positive side: “ Whatsoever things are true,
whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just,
whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely,
whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any
virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.”
(Phil. iv. 8.) And another seems to define that Scrip
ture or writing, as alone given by a holy inspiration,
which “ is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for cor
rection, for instruction in righteousness.” (2 Tim. iii. 16.)
And on the negative side we have “ Refuse profane and
old wives’ fables;” (1 Tim. iv. 7.) “not giving heed to
Jewish fables.” (Titus i. 14.) “But all uncleanness let
it not be once named among you ;” “ for it is a shame
even to speak of those things which are done of them in
secret.” (Eph. v. 3, 12.) And one more on the posi
tive side. “ Whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of
God.” (1 Cor. x. 31.)
Yet with these plain rules for our guidance, not one
of the resolutions proposes to place any restriction upon
the use of the Bible by the children. One, indeed, pro
poses to exclude it bodily from the schools, the good and
the evil together, but upon grounds in no way connected
with its fitness for the perusal of youth. And even the
resolution finally accepted by the Board, while ambigu
ously proposing “ to give from the Bible such instruction
in the principles of religion and morality as is suitable
to the capacities of children,” ventures on no protest
against the Bible as it now stands being put into the
hands of children at all.
The fact is, that the members have allowed themselves
to be so exclusively guided by the “ winds” of popular
“ doctrine,” that they “ have omitted the weightier mat
ters of the law” of morality, and “ passed over judgment
and the love of God.”
�b
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IV.
The reason is not far to seek. A representative body
would not be representative were any wide interval to
intervene between its own intelligence and attainments
and those of its constituents. The latter can be guided
in their selection only by the light they possess j not by
that which they do not possess. Wherefore, for the
School-board to have passed any more radical Resolution
than that which it did pass, would have been for it to
have made itself, not the representative, but the inde
pendent superior of the body which elected it. The
primary defect, therefore, lies with the people at large.
It is the vast amount of bigoted ignorance and supersti
tion still remaining among us that constitutes the real
obstacle to any sound system of national education. It
is the elders who require to be instructed, before we can
begin to teach the children. It is true that a transition
has begun. But every step of the progress from the old
to the new, from darkness to light, is so vehemently
opposed by the vested interests of the dead past, that
the patience of those who believe in the possibility of
progress may well be exhausted, and their faith quenched
in despair.
To be effectual, therefore, remonstrance must be ad
dressed to the people at large, rather than to their
representatives on the School-boards. The transition of
which I spoke as having already begun, is the transition
from a morality affecting to be based upon theology, to
a religion really based upon morality, and, consequently,
to a sound system of morality. This transition must
attain a far more advanced stage in its progress before
the School-board can even begin to carry out the Re-
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solution it has passed. It is absolutely impossible to
“ give from the Bible, instruction in the principles of
morality and religion suitable to children,” until the
popular theory respecting the Bible, and the theology
based upon it, is so vastly modified as to amount to
an almost total renunciation of that theory. The ab
solute and irreconcilable antagonism between what is
called Biblical Theology and the modern principles of
“ Religion and Morality,” cannot be too distinctly
asserted or loudly proclaimed, if we sincerely desire
our children to have an education really consisting in
the development of their intelligence and moral sense.
Valuing the Bible highly as I do, for very much
that is very valuable in it, it is no grateful task to have
to search out and expose the characteristics which
render it an unsuitable basis for the instruction of
children, whether in morality or in religion. Such ex
posure, however, being indispensable to the solution of
the problem of our national education; to shrink from
it would be to abandon that problem as insoluble, that
education as impossible.
V.
Bearing always in mind our definition of the purpose
and method of education, namely the development of
the intelligence and moral sense by the inculcation of
“ the true, the pure, and the honest,”—bearing in mind
also the fundamental fact in human nature, that man’s
view of Deity inevitably reacts upon himself, tending
to form him in the image of his own ideal,—it is selfevident that to familiarise children with the imperfect
morality, the coarse manners and expressions, the rude
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fables, and the degrading ideas of Deity, appertaining to
a people low in culture—such as were the Israelites—
and to confound their minds and consciences at the most
impressible period of life by telling them that such
narratives and representations are all divinely inspired
and infallibly true,—is to utterly stultify ourselves and
the whole of the principles by which we profess to be
actuated in giving them an education at all. Did we
find any others than ourselves, say South Sea savages,
putting into the hands of their children, books containing
coarse and impure stories, detailing the morbid anatomy
of the most execrable vices, extollipg deeds prompted by
a spirit of the lowest selfishness, exulting in fraud,
rapine, and murder, and justifying whatever is most
disgraceful to humanity by representing it as prompted
or approved by their Deity, and so making Him alto
gether such an one as themselves,—surely we should say
that they must indeed be savages of the lowest and most
degraded type, and sad proofs of the utter depravity of
human nature.
In investigating from our present point of view the
contents of this most read, yet most misread, of books,
we must dismiss from our minds any idea that its most
objectionable features are amenable to revision or re
translation. The faults thus removable are but as
freckles upon the skin compared with a constitutional
taint. For it is the spirit as well as the letter of a large
portion of it, that whether “ for reproof, for correction,
or for instruction in righteousness,” is hopelessly in
fault: and the spirit of a book is of infinitely greater
importance than its superficial details.
Palpable to the eyes of all are the hideous tales of Lot
and his daughters; (Gen. xix.) Judah and Tamar;
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(xxxvii.) the massacre of the Shechemites; (xxxiv.)
the Levite of Ephraim; (Jud. xix.) David and Bathsheba;
(2 Sam. ix.) Amnon and his sister ; (xiii.) and whole
chapters in Leviticus and the Prophets. That such
things should be in a book given freely to children to
read, and that they should be expected notwithstanding
to grow up pure and uncontaminated in mind and habit,
is one of those anomalies in the British character which
makes it a hopeless puzzle to the world. Who can say
that much of the viciousness at present prevalent among
us, is not attributable to early curiosity being aroused
and stimulated by the obscenities of the Old Testament ?
To put the Bible as it is into the hands of our children,
is not only totally to bewilder their sense of right and
wrong,—it is to invite familiarity with the idea of the
worst Oriental vices.
Even in the case of those vices being mentioned only
to be denounced, the suggestion is apt to remain, and
the denunciation to be disregarded. It notoriously is
injudicious to put into the minds of children faults of
which they might never have thought themselves, for
the sake of admonishing them against them. It is
related somewhere that a catalogue of offences punish
able by law was once posted in the Roman forum as a
warning to the citizens; but that this was followed by
such a vast increase in the number and variety of the
crimes committed, that it was found advisable to remove
it. I myself know an instance of a pious mother sending
her daughter to a boarding-school, having first written
in her Bible a list of the chapters and passages which she
was not to read. It is remarkable how popular in the
school that particular Bible became. The other girls
were always borrowing it. There is no reason to suppose
that boys would have acted differently.
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It is true that the particular instances I have adduced
may not he immoral as they stand in the Bible, but they
are assuredly provocative of immorality in children who
read them. A far more serious indictment against the
Bible as a handbook of moral instruction must be founded
on its habit of representing the Deity as a consenting
party to some of the worst actions of its characters :
nay, so unreliable is it as a basis of anything what
ever, that after thus characterising the Deity, it deals in
strong denunciations against those “ who not only com
mit such things themselves, but have pleasure in them
that do them
(Rom. i. 32.) thus, by direct implication
condemning the Deity Himself. If it be desirable to
impress upon children the belief that only those “ who
fear God and work righteousness are acceptable to him,”
it is to stultify the whole principle of their education to
represent Him to them as an eastern monarch, selecting
his favourites by caprice, and independently of any merit
or demerit on their part. Yet the entire Bible rests
upon the idea that so far from being an equal Father of
all, “ whose tender mercies are over all His works,”
(Ps. cxlv. 9.) the Almighty selected out of all mankind
one race to be “ His own peculiar people,” (Deut. xiv. 9.)
and out of that race certain individuals to be His own
peculiar favourites, and this in spite of the most glaring
defects in their characters and conduct; and sustained
those whom He had thus chosen through the whole
course of their misdeeds.
Thus, Abraham is said to have had “ faith,” and this
faith is said to have been “ imputed to him for righteous
ness (Rom. iv. 22.) but how far was his actual conduct
righteous, and how much faith did it imply 1 Assured
by repeated promises of the divine favour and protection,
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as well as of a great posterity through his then childless
wife Sarai, he twice voluntarily prostituted her to Pagan
chieftains, pretending that she was only his sister. And
we read that “the Lord plagued,”—not the liar and
poltroon who thus degraded his wife, and entrapped the
kings, whose hospitality he was enjoying;—not the wife
so extraordinarily ready to “ obey her husband in all
things(it appears that her age was about sixty-five on
one occasion, and ninety on the other);—but “ the Lord
plagued Pharaoh and Abimelech with great plagues be
cause of Sarai, Abraham’s wife,” and in the case of the
latter, would only grant forgiveness upon the intercession
of Abraham, saying, “ for he is a prophet.” (Gen. xii. 20.)
Isaac, we read, copied the twice committed fault of his
father, in passing off his wife Rebekah as his sister upon
another king, and was divinely blessed notwithstanding.
In short, in all three transactions, out of the whole of the
parties to them, Abraham, Isaac, Sarai, Rebekah, .the
three kings, and the Deity, those only who indicate the
possession of any moral sense whatever are the Pagan
kings, who show it in no small degree, and these alone
are punished; while Abraham and Isaac retain the divine
favour throughout, the former being honoured by the
distinctive title of “ Friend of God.” (James ii. 23.)
The selfishness and cowardice of Abraham are still
farther illustrated by his treatment of Hagar and Ish
mael. There is no reason to doubt the perfect truthful
ness of the Bible narrative in respect to him. But when
it goes on to represent the Deity as encouraging him in
his cruel and unfatherly conduct to his son, and bid
ding him follow the lead of a frivolous and heartless
wife;—“ In all that Sarai hath said unto thee, hearken
unto her voice(Gen. xxi. 12.) then our m'oral sense is
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offended, and we refuse to identify the God of Abraham
with the God of our own clearer perceptions.
The utter indifference of “ the God of Abraham, Isaac,
and Jacob” to any moral law whatever, reaches its climax
in the history of Jacob. A liar and a trickster from
early youth, yet constantly enjoying the presence and
approbation of God, who finds no word or sign of re
proach wherewith to touch his conscience or arouse his
fears,—such is the patriarch whom the Bible sets forth
as one of God’s especial favourites, because, forsooth, he
had “ faith.” In presence of this mystic quality, right
and wrong sink into absolute nothingness; and that
most fatal of all impieties, a total divorce between the
.will of God and the moral law, finds its plea and justi
fication. It is little that I would give for the moral
sensibility of the child who could read without a pang of
indignation and a tear of pity the tale of this ingrained
blackleg’s atrocities ; his taking advantage of his rough,
honest-hearted brother’s extremity of exhaustion through
hunger to extort from him his birthright; (Gen.
xxv.) his heartless deception of his poor, blind old
father; (xxvii.) his repeated cheats, thefts, and false
hoods against his father-in-law; (xxx., &c.) and the
divine confirmation to him of the blessings thus fraudu
lently acquired ; “ yea, and he shall be blessed,” and con
stant assurance of the divine presence and approbation.
It is without a word of repudiation that the Bible ac
quiesces in Jacob’s degradation of the Deity to a huck
stering or bargaining God; a God, too, who can be got
the better of in a business transaction. For, “Jacob
vowed a vow, saying, If God will be with me in this
way that I go, and will give me bread to eat and raiment
to put on, so that I come again to my father’s house in
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peace; then shall the Lord be my God; and this stone
which I have set for a pillar shall be God’s house; and
of all that thou shalt give me I will surely give the tenth
unto thee.” (xxviii. 20, &c.)
When the Israelites reach the Promised Land, their
“ sacred history” consists of little beside perpetual but
cheries. The more directly they are represented as being
under divine guidance, the more sanguinary is their
career. Slaughter of men, women, children, infants at
the breast. None spared, none, except, sometimes—
and mark the exception made by the followers, not of
Mahomet, but of Jehovah—the unmarried girls. Every
sentiment of humanity and mercy is accounted an un
pardonable weakness. Jehovah appears as a savage
patriot-God, approving impurity, treachery, murder, and
whatever else was perpetrated on the side of his “ chosen
people.” A Bushman of South Africa being once asked
to define the difference between good and evil, replied,
“ It is good when I steal another man’s wives; evil when
another man steals mine.” Such is precisely the standard
of right and wrong laid down by the Bible in respect to
the Israelites and their neighbours. Can we wonder that
recent moralists have written to vindicate the Almighty
from the aspersions cast upon his character in the Bible.*
In all the events of the late dreadful war upon the
Continent, probably no single incident caused such a
thrill of horror as that of the wounded German soldier
who staggered from the field of battle into a peasant’s
cottage, and fell fainting upon the bed, and only lived
long enough to tell his comrades how that the woman of
the cottage had taken advantage of his helpless condition
to pick out his eyes with a fork. Possibly the French
* E.g. Theodore Parker in America, and Dr Perfitt in England.
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woman had heard of the blessing pronounced upon Jael
for a similar act. Possibly she had learned from “ Sacred
History” that the most revolting perfidy and cruelty be
come heroic virtues when exercised upon one’s own side.
And were not we Europeans of to-day, with all our faults,
infinitely in advance of those bad times, we too might
find a patriot-poet rivalling the utterances of the
“divinely-inspired” Deborah, to laud the French tigress
as the Jewish one was lauded, detail with rapturous
glee every particular of the fiendish deed, and mock the
wretched victim’s mother watching and longing in vain
for her murdered son’s return.
Nay, the conduct of her whom the Bible pronounces
as “ blessed above women,” was even more flagrant in
its utter heinousness than that of the French woman.
For the husband of Jael had severed himself from the
hostile peoples; “there was peace between Jabin, the
King of Hazor, and the house of Heber, the Keliite
and he dwelt, a friendly neutral, in a region apart. The
general Sisera, moreover, utterly beaten and discomfited,
had fled expressly to Jael’s tent for safety, knowing the
family to be friendly, and she had invited him in with
assurances of protection. “ Turn in, my lord, fear not.”
(Jud. iv.)
While Abraham is described as “ the friend of God,”
to David is awarded the honour of being styled “ a man
after God’s own heart; ” (1 Sam. xiii. 14; Acts xiii. 22.)
“who turned not away from anything that he com
manded him all the days of his life, save only ” in one
particular instance. (1 Kings xv. 5.) In order to see how
little the Bible is fitted for the instruction of children in
respect of a moral sense, let us brush aside for a moment
the halo with which the name of David is surrounded,
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and read his history for ourselves. It is through want
of doing this, that a popular writer has recently described
his life as uniformly “bright and beautiful up to the
time of his one great sin.”* Yet, his career, soon after
the intrepid act which first brought him into notice, was
one of rebellion and brigandage. Collecting all that were
in debt, distress, and discontent, (1 Sam. xxii. 2.) he or
ganised them into bands of freebooters to levy blackmail
upon the farmers. One of these, named Nabal, when
applied to on account of David, boldly and naturally
answered, “ Who is David ? and who is this son of Jesse?
there be many servants now-a-days that break away
every man from his master. Shall I then take my
bread, and my water, and my flesh that I have killed
for my shearers, and give it unto men whom I know not
whence they be ?”
However, Abigail, the wife of Nabal, touched by her
servant’s account of the gallantry of the band, took of
her husband’s stores and gave liberally to them. Upon
this David assured her that, but for her conduct, he
would not have left even a dog of Nahal’s household
alive by next morning. A few days afterwards Nabal
died; the Bible, as if to remove any suspicion of foul
play, stating that “ the Lord smote him;” when David im
mediately took Abigail to be his own wife. (1 Sam. xxv.)
When the great contest took place between the Philis
tines and the Israelites, in which the latter were utterly
routed, and Saul and Jonathan, David’s bosom friend,
were slain, David with his forces stood aloof, unheeding
the peril of his countrymen. (1 Sam. xxx.) The crown
thus devolved upon Ishbosheth the son of Saul, who was
supported by eleven out of the twelve tribes. David,
* Miss Yonge, in “ Musings on the Christian Year.”
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however, would not accept their choice, even though the
whole strength of Israel was needed at that critical mo
ment to withstand the Philistines. (2 Sam. ii.) Exciting
a civil war, he got himself acknowledged as king by the
dissentient tribe of Judah. Treachery and murder came
freely to his aid, and he at length found the crown of
Israel in his hands. But he felt his tenure of it insecure
so long as any descendant of Saul remained to dispute it
with him. He therefore concerted with the priests, who,
since Saul had slighted their authority, had sided with
David, a plot to get rid of the seven sons and grandsons
of Saul. The country having been for three years dis
tressed by famine, David consulted the Oracles. In
Bible phraseology, he “ inquired of the Lord.” Of what
kind of a Lord he inquired, may be judged by the re
sponse. “ It is for Saul and his bloody house, because
he slew the Gibeonites ” many years before. Upon this
the Gibeonites, duly instructed, besought of David that,
as an “ atonement,” seven males of Saul’s family should
be 11 hanged up unto the Lord.” And David took the
seven and delivered them into the hands of the Gibe
onites, five of them being sons of his own former wife
Michal, “ and they hanged them in the hill before the
Lord. . . . And after that, God was intreated for the
land.” (2 Sam. xxi. 1-14.) Revolt, treason, murder,
human sacrifices, all in the name of “ the Lord ” !
On one occasion, after defeating the Moabites, David,
we read, assembled all the people of that nation on a
plain, made them lie down, and divided them into three
groups with a line. Two of these groups he put to death,
and the other he reduced to slavery. (2 Sam. viii. 2.) The
conquered Ammonites he treated with even greater fero
city, tearing and hewing some of them in pieces with
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harrows, axes, and saws, and roasting others in brick
kilns. (xii. 31.) His luxury and voluptuousness equalled
his cruelty. Having had seven wives while he ruled
over Judah alone, he added to the number all those who
had belonged to Saul, (8.) and took yet more wives and
concubines after he had come from Hebron, (v. 13.) But
these, and his vast pomp, were insufficient to satiate him.
Having caught sight of Bathsheba, the wife of one of his
captains named Uriah, he took her to himself, and sent
Uriah to join the army in the field, giving express orders
to his commanding officer to place him in the fore front
of the fight to insure his being killed.
It appears that there was then in Israel an honest pro
phet named Nathan, who had the courage to remonstrate
with the king, and who did so with such effect, that
David was made, for once, to see the enormity of his
conduct. We read, however, that the Lord put away
David’s sin, so that he did not die. But his child did.
And no sooner was the innocent thus punished for the
guilty, than “ David comforted Bathsheba his wife, and
she bare a son, and he called his name Solomon; and
the Lord loved him. And he sent by the hand of
Nathan the prophet,” now subsided into the obsequious
court chaplain, “and he called his name Jedidiah,” or
“ Beloved of the Lord.” (2 Sam. xii.)
Old age and infirmity wrought no amendment in the
truculent spirit of David ; a spirit so truculent as to make
it morally impossible that he could really have been the
author of any of those psalms which in after ages it
pleased his countrymen to ascribe to him; excepting
only, perhaps, the more ferocious of them. He has been
called, “ the Byron of the Bible,” which, after what has
just been stated, seems exceedingly unfair to Byron.
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Early in David’s career of blood, one Shimei had, in
generous indignation, cursed him for his murder of the
sons of Saul. (2 Sam. xvi.) He had afterwards begged
forgiveness and received it. (xix. 16-23.) Yet David’s
last instructions to Solomon were in this wise—“ Behold
thou hast with thee Shimei the son of Gera, which cursed
me with a grievous curse in the day when I came to
Mahanaim: but he came down to meet me at Jordan,
and I sware to him by the Lord, saying, I will not put
thee to death with the sword. Now, therefore, hold
him not guiltless . . . but his hoar head bring thou
down to the grave with blood. So David slept with his
fathers.” (1 Kings ii. 8-10, &c.) And Solomon “com
manded Benaiah, the son of Jehoiada, which went out and
fell upon Shimei, that he died.” (46.) “ And Solomon
loved the Lord, walking in the statutes of David, his
father.” And “ the Lord appeared to Solomon in a
dream by night; and God said, ask what I shall give
thee. And Solomon said, Thou hast shown unto thy
servant David, my father, great mercy, according as he
walked before thee in truth, and in righteousness, and in
uprightness of heart with thee : and thou hast kept for
him this great kindness, that thou hast given him a son
to sit on his throne. . . . And God said unto him . . .
if thou wilt walk in my ways, to keep my statutes and
my commandments, as thy father David did walk, then
will I lengthen thy days.” (1 Kings iii.)
The mystery of these astounding utterances is not far
to seek. History in those days was the work of the
sacerdotal class. To support and subserve that class was
then, as it has been, for the most part, ever since, to be
pronounced, “ beloved of the Lord,” no matter how evil
the individual really was, or how derogatory to the di
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vine honour it might be to have such a preference ascribed
to it. To have “ faith ” in the priests counterbalanced
and condoned any quantity of wicked “ works.” Their
standard of right and wrong, good and evil, was that of
the Bushman. Whatever was for them was good ; what
ever was against them was evil. It is, then, for us seri
ously to ask ourselves whether, when we set before our
children as a fit object of worship such a being as the
Bible represents the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,
of Samuel, David, and Solomon, to have been, we are
ministering towards the end we have in view in giving
to them an education; or whether, in place of raising
them in the scale of being, we are not rather ministering
to the total degradation in them of the human soul.
VI.
1 .
These are but a few of the instances in which the
Bible is antagonistic to one of the main objects of educa
tion, the development of the moral sense. We will now
examine how far its teaching is adapted to promote the
cultivation of the intellect, still confining ourselves to
the Old Testament.
What are the “ glorious gains ” of the modern mind,
of which we are justly proud, and what are the ideas re
specting the constitution of the universe, the recognition
of which we regard as necessary to entitle any one to
the appellation of an intelligent and educated person 1
Surely they are that the order of nature is invariable,
the whole universe being governed by laws so perfectly
appointed as to need no rectification, and fixed so inher
ently in it as to constitute its nature. That, though in
capable of interference from without, inasmuch as there
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can be no without, all things proceeding from within
from its divine immanent character,—its parts are en
dowed with a capacity of advancing by a process of con
tinual evolution to a degree ever higher of complexity
and organisation, as within the physical structure rises
the mental, with all its capabilities of moral, intellectual,
and spiritual, in grandeur surpassing the majesty of the
whole external Cosmos. That it is a low and degrading
superstition to regard deity as other than One, ever liv
ing and operating equally and impartially throughout the
whole domain of existence; or as dwelling apart from
the world, and only occasionally giving proof of his being
by disturbance of the general order. And that,—while it
is impossible truly to ascribe to him aught of feeling cor
responding to the love, hate, fear, passion, caprice, appe
tite, or other affection of men,—when for purposes of
instruction or devotion we seek to utilise the anthropo
morphic tendency of our nature, He is to be represented
as the absolute impersonation of all that we recognise as
best in Humanity.
To what depths do we fall when, abandoning these
hard-won gains of the Intellect’s long warfare against
ignorance, barbarism, and superstition, instead of placing
our children upon the vantage ground we have acquired,
and handing to them our lights at the point which we
ourselves have attained, that they may carry them on
yet further, we abuse their understandings at the most
impressible age, by compelling them to regard the
Almighty as no equal God and Father of the whole
human race, but the exclusive patron of a small Semitic
tribe dwelling in Palestine, whom he supported by
prodigies and miracles in their aggressions upon their
neighbours, revealing to them alone the light of his
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word, and condemning all others to enforced darkness.
By teaching them to believe in magic and witchcraft,
in talismans, charms, and vows; in beasts speaking
with human voices and sentiments; (Gen. iii. 1-4;
Num. xxii. 28-30.) in a deity writing with a finger; (Ex.
xxxi. 18.) speaking with a voice; (xix. 19.) enjoying
the smell of roast meat; (Gen. viii. 21.) standing face to
face ; (xxxii. 30.) walking in a garden ; (iii. 8.) revealing
his hinder parts; (Ex. xxxiii. 23.) coming down to obtain
information as to what men were doing, and to devise
measures in accordance therewith; (Gen. xi. 5-7 ; xviii.
20, 21.) impressing men, not through their consciences,
but by signs and wonders, miracles and dreams; recog
nising and confirming advantages gained by fraud, to the
irreparable disadvantage of their rightful owner; (Gen.
xxvii. 33-37.) in the case of one deliverer of his chosen
people, making his strength depend upon the length of
his hair; (Jud. xvi. 17.) allowing another, in virtue of
a hasty vow, to offer up his daughter in human sacrifice
as a burnt-offering; (xi. 30-39 ; Num. xxx.) and, lastly,
teaching them to believe in man created perfect, and
yet unable to resist the first and smallest temptation;
and, for such a peccadillo as the eating of the fruit of a
magical tree, being with his whole unborn progeny so
ferociously damned as to be redeemable only by another
human sacrifice, even the stupendous sacrifice of God’s
only Son.
How utterly bewildering to the expanding intelligence
of youth to be told that the God whom they are to
worship is revealed in the Bible, and to find him such a
being as this ! Terrible indeed is their responsibility
who proclaim as divinely infallible every absurd or
monstrous narrative to be found in the fragmentary
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legends of a barbarous and imaginative people. When
we consider how great is the difficulty of detaching the
mind from pernicious ideas when imprinted on it in
childhood, and fitting it to receive the later revelations
of reason and morality, we can but shudder at the sum
of misery undergone in the conflict between the Intellect
and the Conscience, through the former having com
menced its onward march, while the latter still continues
bound to the beliefs of childhood. A very Nessus-shirt
of burning poison and agony to all generations of
Christendom, has been the garb of ancient faith which we
have adopted and worn, in spite of its being totally
unfitted to us.
VII.
It is a practice with many savage tribes to invest some
object with certain magical properties, altogether inde
pendent of its real qualities, and to worship this with a
blind adoration, the whole process being known by the
name of Fetich-worship.
Now what else than precisely such Fetich-worship is
theirs who would put up a book to be venerated, but
refuse to allow it to be made comprehensible by any
kind of interpretation ? Yet, of all the Resolutions
considered by the School-board, that for which the
country at largS manifested the strongest preference at
the elections was the proposition “that the Bible be
read in the schools, but without note or comment.”
It can only be the absence of any precise notion as to
what education consists in that has prompted a sugges
tion so utterly opposed to any sort of wholesome de
velopment. To suggest difficulties—such difficulties—
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and forbid their explanation ! Better far that the
children read the Bible in the original tongues at once,
than in the “ authorised version.” They might not get
much good from the process, but they would assuredly
get less harm.
But we will test the working of this suggestion by a
few out of the numerous instances of apparent contra
diction which, “ without note or comment,” cannot fail
to plunge youthful readers in hopeless perplexity.
And first, concerning the Deity, we read that “ God
saw everything that he had made, and behold it was
very good.” (Gen. i. 31.) This was said after the
creation of man, when the character and liabilities of
that creation must have been fully known to God.
Yet we are told soon after that “ it repented the Lord
that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him
at his heart; (iv. 6.) implying that he was surprised and
disappointed at the way man had turned out, having
expected better things of him : implying, too, that the
divine prescience was at fault, the divine work a failure.
And in many other passages we read of the Deity as
repenting and changing his mind; being weary and
resting. Yet elsewhere in the same book it is declared
that “ God is not a man that he should repent;” (Num.
xxxiii. 19.) being one “with whom is no variable
ness, neither shadow of turning;” (Jam. i. 17.) “who
fainteth not, neither is weary.” (Is. xl. 28 ; also 1 Sam.
xv, 35 ; Jonah iii. 10 ; Ex. xxxiii. 1 ; &c.)
Even the all-important questions of God’s justice and
power remain in suspense with such passages as these
unreconciled : “ A God of truth and without iniquity,
just and right is he.” (Deut. xxxii. 4.) “ Hear now, 0
house of Israel; are not my ways equal ? are not your
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ways unequal ? Therefore I will judge you.............
every one according to his ways, saith the Lord God.”
“ The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father.”
(Ez. xviii. 20, 25-30.) And, “ I . . . . am a jealous
God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the
children.” (Ex. xx. 5.) Also, “For the children being
not yet bom, neither having done any good or evil, that
the purpose of God according to election might stand,
not of works, but of him that calleth, it was said unto
her (by God), the elder shall serve the younger. As it
is written, Jacob have I loved (Jacob !) but Esau have I
hated.” (Eom. ix. 11-13 ; Gen. ix. 25 ; Matt. xiii. 11-17.)
How, moreover, are children to reconcile this with the
declaration that “God is no respecter of persons?”
And while, notwithstanding that “ with God all things
are possible,” (Matt. xix. 25.) we are told that “ the
Lord was with Judah, and he drave out the inhabitants
of the mountain; but could not drive out the inhabi
tants of the valley, because they had chariots of iron.”
(Jud. i. 19 ; Josh. xvii. 18.) Also that the inhabitants
of Meroz were bitterly cursed “because they came not
to the help of the Lord against the mighty.” (Jud. v. 23.)
Notwithstanding that we read in several places that
God was seen face to face, and his voice heard, (Gen. iii.
9, 10 ; xxxii. 30; Ex. xxiv. 9-11; xxxiii. 11 ; Is. vi. 1.)
we are yet assured that “ no man hath seen God at any
time; ” (John i. 18.) hath “ neither heard his voice at any
time, nor seen his face.” (v. 37.) And God himself said
unto Moses, “ Thou canst not see my face; for there shall
no man see me and live.” (Ex. xxiii. 20.) And Paul
speaks of him as one “ whom no man hath seen, nor can
see.” (1 Tim. vi. 16.)
It is little that children will learn from the Bible con
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cerning the origin of evil, when, against “ I make peace
and create evil. I the Lord do all these things;” (Is.
xiv. 7.) “ out of the mouth of the Most High proceedeth not evil and good ?” (Lam. iii. 38.)—they set, “ with
out note or comment,” “ God is not the author of con
fusion;” (1 Cor. xiv. 33.) “a God of truth, and without
iniquity, just and right is he.” (Deut. xxxii. 4.) “God
cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth he any
man.” (Jas. i. 13.)
Concerning the divine dwelling-place, we read that
“ the Lord appeared to Solomon, and said ... I have
chosen and sanctified this house . . . and mine eyes and
heart shall be there perpetually.” (2 Chron. vii. 12-16.)
Yet we also read, “ Howbeit the Most High dwelleth not
in temples made with hands.” (Acts vii. 48.) In one
place he is described as “ dwelling in light which no man
can approach;” (1 Tim. iv. 16.) and in another it is
said, “ clouds and darkness are round about him.” (Ps.
xcvii. 2.)
Similarly contrast these also: “ The Lord is a man of
war(Ex. xv. 3.) “ The Lord mighty in battle(Ps.
xxiv. 8.) “ The Lord of hosts is his name.” (Is. li. 15.)
And, “God is not the author of confusion, but of peace.” (1
Cor. xiv. 33.) “ Bloody men shall not live out half their
days.” (Ps. lv. 23.) “ The God of peace be with you all.”
(Rom. xv. 33.)
In reference to the making and worshipping of images,
we have the positive command, “ Thou shalt not make
unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of anything
that is in heaven above, or in the earth beneath. Thou
shalt not bow down to them, nor serve (or worship)
them,” (Ex. xxii. 4.) and many repeated denunciations
of idolatry. Yet Moses was commanded to “ make two
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cherubim of gold.” (xxv. 18.) Also, “ the Lord said
unto Moses, make thee a fiery serpent, and set it upon a
pole, and it shall come to pass that every one that is
bitten, when he looketh upon it, shall live.” (Num. xxi. 8.)
A direct act of idolatry commanded by God himself!
The books of Exodus and Leviticus abound in direc
tions instituting and regulating sacrifice, in terms such
as “ Thou shalt offer every day a bullock for a sin-offering
for atonement;” (Ex. xxix. 36; also xviii.; Lev. i. 9;
xxiii. 27, &c.) and the most complex and gorgeous
system of ceremonial worship was based upon it, ex
pressly by divine command. Yet in the Psalms we find
the Almighty exclaiming, “ Will I eat the flesh of bulls,
or drink the blood of goats? Offer unto God thanks
giving, and pay thy vows unto the Most High.” (Ps. 1.
13, 14.) And in Isaiah, “To what purpose is the mul
titude of your sacrifices unto me ? saith the Lord . . .
I delight not in the blood of bullocks, or of lambs, or of
he-goats . . . When ye come to appear before me, who
hath required this at your hand ? Bring no more vain
oblations; incense is an abomination unto me; the new
moons and Sabbaths, the calling of assemblies, I cannot
away with; it is iniquity, even the solemn meeting.”
(Is. i. 11-13.) And Jeremiah represents the Almighty
as positively repudiating any connection with the Levitical code. “ I spake not unto your fathers, nor com
manded them in the day that I brought them out of the
land of Egypt, concerning burnt-offerings or sacrifices.”
(Gen. vii. 22.)
“ Without note or comment,” children would assuredly
fail to comprehend the significance of the antagonism
necessarily existing between the whole sacerdotal
class, with its “ trivial round” of ritual and observance,
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and immoral doctrine of compensation for moral de
ficiencies by material payments, and the honest, out
spoken prophet or teacher of practical religion. And to
fail to comprehend this, is to fail to learn one of the
most valuable lessons to be derived from the Bible.
Even the horrible practice of human sacrifice finds
justification with the sacerdotal followers of the Jewish
divinity. We have already seen how, backed by the
priests, David delivered up the seven sons and grandsons
of Saul, “ and they hanged them in the hill before the
Lord . . . and after that God was entreated for the
land.” (2 Sam. xxi.) Moreover, “God said unto Abra
ham, take now thy son, thine only son Isaac . . . and
offer him fora burnt-offering.” (Gen. xxii. 2.) Jephthah,
too, “ vowed a vow unto the Lord” that he would “ offer
up for a burnt-offering” whatever he met first on his re
turn home, provided the Lord would give him a victory.
The victory was given, and the bargain was kept; “ the
Lord,” of course, being in his omniprescience, well aware
what it involved; and, to judge by his antecedent and
subsequent conduct, by no means incapable of being in
duced thereto by the magnitude of the bribe. Jephthah’s
own daughter was the first to come to congratulate her
father j “ and he did with her according to his vow.”
(Jud. xi.) The sacerdotal law gave him no choice, for it
positively enacted that vows, however iniquitous, were
not to be broken, except when taken under certain cir
cumstances by a maid, a wife, or a widow. (Num. xxx.)
The liberality and mercifulness of God find expression
in many touching declarations in the Scriptures. We
read that “ every one that asketh, receiveth, and he that
seeketh, findeth.” (Matt. vii. 8.) “ Those that seek me
early shall find me.” (Prov. viii. 17.) Yet on the other
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side we have, “ Then shall they call upon me, but I will
not answer; they shall seek me early, but they shall not
find me.” (i. 28.) And notwithstanding such assertions
as: “The Lord is very pitiful and of tender mercy.” (James
v. 11.) “He doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve the
children of men.” (Lam. iii. 33.) “ The Lord is good to
all, and his tender mercies are over all his works.” (Ps.
cxlv. 9.) “I have no pleasure in the death of him that
dieth, saith the Lord God.” (Ezek. xviii. 32.) “ God is
love;” (1 John iv. 16.) “Who will have all men to be
saved;” (1 Tim. ii. 4.) “For his mercy endureth for
ever;” (1 Chron. xvi. 34, &c.)—we find also the following
ferocious utterances : “ The Lord thy God is a consuming
fire.” (Deut. iv. 34.) “ I will dash them one against
another, even the fathers and the sons together, saith the
the Lord. I will not pity, nor spare, nor have mercy,
but destroy them.” (Jer. xiii. 14.) “And thou shalt
consume all the people which the Lord thy God shall
deliver thee: thine eye shall have no pity upon them.”
(Deut. vii. 16, and 2.) “ Thus saith the Lord of hosts , . .
slay both man and woman, infant and suckling, ox and
sheep, camel and ass.” (1 Sam. xv. 2, 3.) “ Because they
had looked into the ark of the Lord, even he smote of
the people fifty thousand and threescore and ten men.
And the people lamented because the Lord had smitten
many of the people with great slaughter.” (1 Sam. vi. 19.)
" I also will deal in fury; mine eye shall not spare,
neither will I have pity. And though they cry in mine
ears with a loud voice, yet will I not hear them.” (Ezek.
viii. 18.) “And the Lord said, Go through the city and
smite; let not your eye spare, neither have ye pity: slay
utterly old and young, both maids and little children,
and women. . . . and begin at my sanctuary.” (ix. 4-6.)
c
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It is no less impossible to derive from the Bible alone
any- certainty of God’s unfailing truthfulness than of his
mercy. It is true that we are told, “It is impossible for
God to lie.” (Heb. vi. 18.) “ Lying lips are an abomina
tion to the Lord.” (Prov. xii. 22.) “‘Thou shalt not
bear false witness against thy neighbour.” (Ex. xx. 16.)
“ These things doth the Lord hate ... a lying tongue
. . . a false witness that speaketh lies.” (Prov. iv. 17-19.)
And, “ all liars shall have their part in the lake which
burneth with fire and brimstone.” (Rev. xxi. 8.) Yet,
on the other hand, we find the lies of the Israelitish
women in Egypt, and of Rahab in Jericho, justified;—
“ that admirable falsehood,” as St. Chrysostom called
the latter. (Ex. i. 18-20; Josh. ii. 4-6.) We find the
atrocious deceit of Jael more than justified. (Jud. iv. v.)
And we have also this astounding revelation from behind
the scenes in heaven :—“ And the Lord said, who shall
persuade Ahab 1 . . . And there came forth a spirit and
stood before the Lord, and said, I will persuade him.
And the Lord said, wherewith 1 And he said, I will go
forth and be a lying spirit in the mouth of all these thy
prophets. And he said, thou shalt persuade him, and
prevail also; go forth and do so. Now, therefore, be
hold the Lord hath put a lying spirit in the mouth of all
these thy prophets, and the Lord hath spoken evil con
cerning thee.” (1 Kings xxii. 21-23.) And in confirma
tion of this otherwise incredible narrative, we read later,
“ If the prophet be deceived when he hath spoken a
thing, I the Lord have deceived that prophet, and I will
stretch out mine hand upon him, and will destroy him
from the midst of my people.” (Ezek. xiv. 9.) The New
Testament adopts a similar view of God’s dealings; for,
mingled with its “ glad tidings of salvation,” we read,—
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“ God shall send them strong delusion, that they should
believe a lie, that they all might be damned.” (2 Thess.
ii. 11, 12.)
Once more it must be asked, Can we wonder that
earnest and pious men of our own times have, in their
zeal for the honour of God, endeavoured to rescue his
character from the treatment it receives in the Scriptures ?
VIII.
The character of Jesus is as variously drawn in the
New Testament as that of the Deity in the Old; and
those who desire the children in our schools to recognise
in him the perfect man and infallible Teacher, should, to
be consistent, be the very last to wish them to read the
New Testament “ without note or comment.” Too often
it happens that the explanatory lessons with which the
Scriptures are accompanied, are utterly pernicious, and
even blasphemous. This very year, a youth who has
been for some years a student in one of the wealthiest of
our public foundation-schools, was required to give some
instances of human feeling on the part of Jesus. Of
the value, whether intellectually or religiously, of the
education given at that school, we may judge by
his answer. Of the tender sympathy shown by Jesus
towards all who were suffering : of his unselfish devotion
to the cause of the poor and the depraved; of his noble
indignation against injustice and oppression; of his in
tense sense of a personal Father in God, and instinctive
detestation of all sacerdotal interference;—of all these so
eminently human characteristics, our scholar said nothing.
The result of his compulsory attendance at the school
chapel every morning, and at two full services every
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Sunday, beside much other Scripture instruction, was to
impress upon him the belief that whatever is human is
bad, and whatever is bad is human. He concluded,
therefore, that by human feeling on the part of Jesus,
an instance of something bad was intended. And he
actually sent up for answer, as a solitary instance of
human feeling on the part of Jesus, the story of his losing
his temper, and cursing a fig-tree for being barren when
it was not the season for figs 1 (Mark xi. 13, 14, 21.)
As any explanations which accompany the reading of
the Old Testament should be contrived to disabuse chil
dren of the notion that the Deity could ever have been
such a being as is there described, so in reading of Jesus
in the New Testament they should be told that there are
indications of a better man than the Gospels make him,
peeping out through the corrupted text. “ It is impos
sible that such love and devotion as followed him through
out his life could ever have been won by a hard, unjust,
or intolerant character.” Yet he is represented as more
than once addressing his admirable and devoted mother
in a rough, unfilial tone; (John ii. 4; Luke ii. 4.) and
launching most uncalled for reproaches at a gentleman of
whose hospitality he was partaking, on the occasion of a
woman coming in and washing his feet with her tears,
and wiping them with her hair. (Luke vii. 32-50.)
Nor can there be any doubt as to what must be their
natural judgment of the spirit of one who could describe
his own mission in these terms : “ Whosoever shall con
fess me before men, him will I also confess before my
Father which is in heaven. But whosoever will deny
me before men, him will I also deny before my Father
which is in heaven. Think not that I am come to
send peace on earth: I come not to send peace, but a
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sword. For I am come to set a man at variance against
his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the
daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law, and a man’s
foes shall be they of his own household.” (Matt. x. 32-36.)
Hardly will they reconcile this with the promise of his
birth-song, “On earth peace, good-will toward men;”
(Luke ii. 14.) but will hastily conclude that the angels
were sadly misinformed. And when they read that one
who is elsewhere described as “ going about teaching and
healing” among a people who were “ perishing for lack
of knowledge,” uttered to his disciples such words as
these, “ Unto you it is given to know the mysteries of
the kingdom of God : but unto others in parables ; that
seeing they might not see, and hearing they might not
understand;” (Luke viii. 8.) and read further, “ Therefore
they could not believe, because he hath blinded their eyes
and hardened their heart; that they should not see with
their eyes, nor understand with their heart, and be con
verted, and I should heal them; ” (John xii. 39, 40.)—and
from these fearful utterances, turn to the declaration, that
this same Jesus had received “ all power in heaven and
earth;” (Matt, xxviii. 18.) and that he “ came not to judge
but to save the world;” (John xii. 27.) came especially
“ to seek and to save that which was lost;” (Luke xix. 10.)
it will be no wonder if their souls finally succumb to
despair, and they cry to their teachers, “ Be merciful:
take away from us this book, if you dare not explain to
us its meaning.”
IX.
I shall conclude the present lecture by pointing out
the notable contradiction apparent between the Bible
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and the fact of the world’s present existence. The New
Testament contains scarcely a passage of any length that
does not make some allusion to the near approach of the
end of the world.
We may conceive the perplexity of children when,
after reading in ordinary history the events of the last
eighteen hundred years, with their piteous tale of cruelty
and oppression, disease and death, they open their
Bibles and read that, all those centuries ago, men were
summoned to repent because “ the kingdom of heaven ”
was then “at hand;” (Matt. iv. 17.) and find that by
“ the kingdom of heaven ” was meant, not merely a social
or moral regeneration, though the phrase is sometimes
used in this sense, but the personal second coming of
Christ, and end of all things. That both the Baptist and
Jesus preached thus : that the twelve apostles were sent
forth to preach thus; (x. 7.) that the seventy were
charged with injunctions to announce to the inhabitants
of any city-on their entry, “the kingdom of God is
come nigh unto you (Luke x. 8-11.) that Jesus repre
sented himself as a nobleman who had gone into a far
country to receive for himself a kingdom, and to return;
and instructed his disciples in these terms, “ Occupy till
I come (xix. 13.) that this was the kingdom for which
Joseph of Arimathea “ waited (xxiii. 51.) unto which
Paul prayed that he might be preserved; (2 Tim. iv. 18.)
charging Timothy to “ keep the commandment.............
until the appearance of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Tim.
vi. 14.)
How bewildering to the youthful intelligence, to per
ceive the world still going on much in its old track,
slowly elaborating its own destiny, and to find in the
records of its history no trace of the dread phenomena
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which they read in their Testaments were to portend
and accompany the return of the Son of Man and of God,
—the darkened sun, the falling stars, the bloodshot
moon, the roaring sea, the myriad hosts of heaven, the
voice of the archangel, and the trump of God; the
judgment of the quick and dead, the wailing of the lost,
and the gathering of the elect from the four winds of
heaven, the resurrection of those who slept, the ecstasy
of “we who remain,” as Paul said, (1 Thess. iv. 15-17.)
when “ caught up to meet the Lord in the air,” on his
“ coming in the clouds of heaven with power and great
glory;” (Matt. xxiv. 29-35.) for which all the disciples
were bid to watch ; (Mark xiii. 37.) and which some of
them were still to be alive on earth to see. For Jesus
had said, " Verily I say unto you, that there be some of
them that stand here now which shall not taste of death
till they have seen the kingdom of God come with
power.” (Matt. xvi. 28; Mark xi. 1; Luke xix. 27.)
“ Immediately after the tribulation of those days
and,
“ Verily I say unto you, this generation shall notpassaway,
until all these things shall be fulfilled.” (Matt. xxiv. 29,
35.) Add, too, the assurance of the angels to the disci
ples as they stood watching the Ascension, that he should
return “ in like manner;” (Acts i. 11.) add the declara
tion of Peter that “the end of all things is at hand;”
(1 Pet. iv. 7.) add the admonition of Paul to the
Romans, “ Now it is high time to awake out of sleep,
for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed.
The night is far spent, the day is at hand;” (Rom. xiii.
11, 12.) “ these last days;” (Heb. i. 2.) even the days of
us “ upon whom the ends of the world are come ; ” (1 Cor.
x. 11.) add, lastly, the final book of “The Revelation,”
opening with the announcement that these things “ must
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shortly come to pass •” and concluding with the declara
tion, “ Surely I come quickly. Amen. Even so, come,
Lord Jesus,”—a book which, claiming to be the final
utterance of divine truth, is charged with dire curses
against any who should add to it; instead of saying,
rather, “to be continued, so long as God continues to
work in man,”—add, I say, to all that has been set forth,
these and the yet other numerous similar intimations of
the then expected rapidly approaching end ; set children
to read them “ without note or comment,” but with the
belief which they will inevitably acquire, from the fact
of the Bible being put into their hands without informa
tion to the contrary,—the belief that it must therefore
be all infallibly true, that God did speak, the Lord did
say, all the things therein ascribed to him; and then,
if they retain any particle of intelligence whatever, most
surely they will have but a confused idea of God, a con
fused idea of man, and a confused idea of the relations
between them; a confused idea of right and wrong, a
confused idea of faith and fact; or rather, we may con
fidently declare, a false and pernicious idea of all things
whatsoever, in heaven and earth, from beginning to end.
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LECTURE THE SECOKD.
X.
It is not unusual for people, when pressed upon the
subject, to say, “ We do not lay much store by the Old
Testament. We concede much of what you say against
it as a teacher of morality and even of religion. We
value it chiefly as the basis and introduction of the New.
It is upon the New Testament that we take our stand.
The sufficient, and only sufficient, rule of life, its prac
tical religion and morality, are distinct and unimpeach
able.” I propose, therefore, to conclude my examination
of the effects of the popular proposition, “ that the Bible
be read without note or comment,” by showing that in
respect of its teaching, both religious and moral, even
the New Testament requires elucidation and correction
to prevent it from being productive of much that would
be immoral, irreligious, and grossly superstitious.
Passing over the innumerable discrepancies in the
gospel narratives, to reconcile which so many “ Har
monies ” have been constructed in vain, let us compare
first those utterances of the New Testament which have
regard to life—civil, political, and social. Are our chil
dren to learn from its pages to grow up to be intelligent
and independent citizens, respecting the laws, and re
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specting themselves ? It is clear that, “ without note or
comment,” they will hardly escape great perplexity of
conscience when on one side they read, “ Be subject to
principalities and powers, obey magistrates.” (Tit. iii. 1.)
“ Obey them that have the rule over you, and submit
yourselves.” (Heb. xiii. 17.) “The powers that be are
ordained of God. Whoso therefore resisteth the power,
resisteth the ordinance of God:” (Rom. xiii. 1, 2.) and
on the other side, find, that no sooner did a dilemma
arise, than “ Peter and the other apostles answered and
said, We ought to obey God rather than man.” (Acts
v. 29.)
Concerning the institution of Slavery, we find in the
Old Testament the most conflicting utterances, of which
one is, “ Of the children of the strangers that do sojourn
among you, of them shall ye buy . . . and they shall be
your possession. . . . They shall be your bondmen for
ever(Lev. xxv. 45, 46.) and another, “ Thou shalt
neither vex a stranger nor oppress him (Ex. xxxii. 21.)
both of which are in the books ascribed to Moses. While
the New Testament contains no direct reprobation of
Slavery, but rather the reverse. It must be remembered
that, wherever in our translation the word servant occurs,
the original means slave. And while masters are enjoined
to “ give unto their slaves that which is just and equal”
for their labour, and to “ forbear threatening ” them;
(Col. iv. 1; Eph. vi. 9.) it says nothing in repudiation
of the institution itself as being unjust and unequal;
but repeatedly admonishes slaves to be content with
their condition ; to “ count their masters worthy of all
honour (1 Tim. vi. 1.) and be “ obedient to them with
fear and trembling.” (Eph. vi. 5.) We read, moreover,
that Paul himself sent back to his master the slave Onesimus, after converting him to Christianity. (Philemon.)
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There are, indeed, ample grounds for fearing lest all
respect for Rights vanish in the prominence given exclu
sively to Duties. And even in the important matter of
respect and affection for parents and relatives, children
may fail to find a sufficient rule to exclude hesitation.
It is true that they read, “ Honour thy father and
mother,” for the low and unsatisfactory motive, “ that
thy days may be long.” (Ex. xx. 12.) “Husbands love
your wives.” (Eph. v. 25.) And “whoso hateth his
brother is a murderer.” (1 John iii. 15.) But there is to
be set on the other side this of Jesus himself, “ If any
man hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and chil
dren, and brethren, and sisters ... he cannot be my
disciple.” (Luke xiv. 26.)
Great will be their perplexity, too, when, after the
ordinary lessons of the schoolroom, inculcating respect
for property, the duty of industry, forethought, and thrift,
the disgrace of beggary, and evil of pauperism, they read
“ without note or comment,” “ Take therefore no thought
for the morrow“Lay not up for yourselves treasures
upon earth.” (Matt. vi. 34,19.) “ Sell whatsoever thou hast
and give to the poor;” (Mark x. 21.) and see how Jesus
backed up his communistic precepts by his practice, in
instituting the order of Mendicant Friars, by sending
forth the Twelve and the Seventy with injunctions to
“ carry neither purse nor scrip.” (Luke x. 3-7, &c.)
Neither can we consistently endeavour to cherish in
children a love of science, literature, and art, and all the
glorious uses of which man’s high faculties are capable ;
a love, in short, of that mental culture to obtain which
we expressly send them to school; if we ply them with
such contemptuous allusions to it as “ Beware lest any
man spoil you with philosophy and vain deceit; ” (Col.
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ii. 8.) “The Greeks seek after wisdom ;” (1 Cor. i. 22.)
“ Vain babblings and oppositions of science falsely so
called;” (1 Tim. vi. 20.) “Knowledge puffeth up;” (1
Cor. viii. 1.)—without telling them at the same time,
that ignorance ever “ puffeth up ” far more than know
ledge; that “science,” now-a-days stands on a very dif
ferent basis to that on which it stood in those days,
namely, on a basis of positive fact as ascertained by
actual investigation into the phenomena of the universe,
instead of on the imaginations and foregone conclusions
of men who believed in the infallibility of their mental
impressions, and pretended to knowledge independently
of experience; and that it is our highest duty and pri
vilege to cultivate “ every good gift and every perfect
gift,” intellectual and other, “ which cometh down from
the Father of lights.” (Jam. i. 17.)
Even in so simple a matter as the advantage of bear
ing a good character, they will be at a loss to determine
between “a good name is better than precious oint
ment ;” (Eccl. vii. 1.) “ it is rather to be chosen than
great riches;” (Prov. xxii. 1.) and, “Woe unto you
when all men shall speak well of you.” (Luke vi. 25.)
The Bible makes it a reproach to King Asa that “ in
his disease he sought not to the Lord, but to the physi
cians,” and significantly adds, “Asa slept with his
fathers.” (2 Chron. xvi. 12.) Of another patient it is
said that she had “ for twelve years suffered many things
of many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and
was nothing bettered, but rather grew worse,” but straight
way was healed through faith. (Mark v. 25-29.) And
there is this express injunction, “ Is any sick among you?
let him call for the elders of the Church, and let them
pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the
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Lord: and the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the
Lord shall raise him up.” (Jam. v. 14.) “Without note
or comment,” but influenced, unconsciously perhaps,
within school or without it, to regard the plain teaching
of the Bible as intended to be followed unshrinkingly,
the children in our National Schools will be apt to grow
up with the belief that it is unchristian and wicked to
call in a doctor, or to take medicine, when they are ill.
Lawyers are scarcely named but to be censured in
such terms as these: “Woe unto you lawyers ! for ye
lade men with burdens grievous to be borne, and ye your
selves touch not the burdens with one of your fingers.
Woe unto you lawyers I” (Luke xi. 45, 52.) For “with
out note or comment,” the term rendered “ lawyers,” will
inevitably be held to signify, not the expounders of Rab
binical doctrine, but the members of that eminent profes
sion which is so indispensable to the maintenance of our
rights and privileges. While the despised “ publicans ”
of Jewish times, instead of being recognised as mere
collectors of taxes, are sure to be confounded with our
own respectable company of “ licensed victuallers.”
We have seen how summarily two of the learned pro
fessions may be disposed of. Following the Bible with
out guidance by “ note or comment,” the clergy will be
in danger of faring little better than the lawyers or doc
tors. And this brings us to the subject of religious
duties as laid down in the New Testament.
It is, whether rightly or wrongly I do not venture to
decide, a subject of peculiar pride with us, that we are a
prayerful and churchgoing people. But what is really
curious is, that the practice of assembling together for pub
lic worship, we regard as essential to our character as Chris
tians. Now, how can children be expected to understand
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“without note or comment” that it is their duty to
attend “ divine service,” when they find that Jesus, who is
held up to them as the infallible pattern and guide of life,
never joined in public prayer himself, but always when
he wished to pray or meditate went apart, either “ up
into a mountain,” (Matt. xiv. 23.) or some other “ solitary
place,” (Mark i. 35.) or “ withdrew about a stone’s cast
(Luke xxii. 24.) that he only went into the synagogue or
the temple to read or to teach ; (Luke iv. 16: Matt. xxi.
23.) or to indulge in what to children and unexplained
must appear to be riotous conduct in church, namely to
drive out with blows and threats a number of persons
who were exercising a lawful industry in its precincts;
(Matt. xxi. 12.) that the persons he mentioned in one of
his parables as “ going up to the temple to pray,” (Luke
xviii. 10.) belonged to the classes he most persistently de
nounced, being a pharisee and a publican; and even these
he distinctly exonerates from the reproach of having
joined in common prayer ; that moreover, in addition to
his example, he delivered precepts absolutely prohibitory
of all public praying in these emphatic terms: “ When
thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are; for
they love to pray standing in the synagogues, and in the
corners of the streets to be seen of men. Verily, I say
unto you, They have their reward. But thou, when thou
prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut
thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy
Father which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly;”
(Matt. vi. 5, 6.)—a rule which he relaxed only on the
condition that two, or at most three, should agree upon
a subject for petition, in which case they might gather
together in his name. (Matt, xviii. 19, 20.) It is indeed
a painful perplexity in which the minds of the more sen
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sitive children will be plunged when they ask themselves
how, in the face of Christ’s most positive precepts and
example, they can continue to pray in church or chapel,
and at the same time deserve to be called by his name.
The propriety of continuing to observe the Sabbath, if
rested on the Bible alone, will remain, to say the least,
doubtful. The difference in the reasons assigned for its
institution can hardly fail to create wonder as to the
authority upon which the command said to be “ written
with the finger of God” himself, basing the appointment
upon the creation of the universe in six days, (Ex. xxxi.
17, &c.) was changed to one representing it as a memo
rial of the deliverance out of Egypt. (Deut. v. 15.)
While the institution itself is, on account of the abuses
to which it led, referred to variously by the later pro
phets ; and, in the New Testament, seems to have been
repudiated in a great measure, if not altogether, by Jesus
and the apostles; Paul distinctly admonishing the Colossians in these terms : “You hath Christ quickened. . .
blotting out the handwriting of ordinances. . . Let
no man therefore judge you . . in respect of an holi
day, . . or of the Sabbath.” (Col. ii. 13-16.) So that
something at any rate has to be added to the New Tes
tament to justify our present usage in this respect.
In the absence of explanatory comment, the statements
of scripture respecting the resurrection of the body appear
in direct conflict with each other; as also do those re
specting the after-life of the soul. In the Old Testament
we are told, “ He that goeth down £0 the grave shall
come up no more.” (Job vii. 9.) “The dead know not
anything, neither have they any more reward.” (Eccl. ix.
5, 10.) And in the New Testament, “ The trumpet shall
sound, and the dead shall be raised(1 Cor. xv. 52.)
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“Then shall he reward every man according to his
works.” (Matt. xvi. 27.) While the narratives of the
ascent of Enoch and Elijah seem to find a positive con
tradiction in the declaration of Jesus, “No man hath
ascended up to heaven but he that came down from
heaven, even the son of man;” and the narrative makes
him add, “ which is in heaven,” putting what appears to
be an absurd contradiction into the mouth of Jesus.
(John iii. 12.)
And even concerning the status of Jesus himself, expla
nations are needed to reconcile the various contradictory
declarations; “I and my Father are one.” (John x. 30.)
“ He thought it not robbery to be equal with God.”
(Phil. ii. 6.) “ Jesus increased in wisdom and stature,
and in favour with God and man.” (Luke ii. 52.) “ My
Father is greater than I.” (John xiv. 28.) “ Of that day
and that hour knoweth no man. . . Neither the Son,
but the Father.” (Mark xiii. 32.) And his agonised ex
clamation when dying, which we can easily believe to
have been held up by the clergy of those days as uttered
in remorse of soul for a life spent in opposition to the
church orthodoxy of his country,—“ My God, my God,
why hast thou forsaken me ?” (Matt, xxvii. 46.)
XI.
Much stress has been laid by orthodox writers on the
“ Continuity,” or uninterrupted connection, of Scripture.
The inference which they have drawn from the con
sistency existing between its various parts, is that it
must all be alike the result of one divine harmonious
scheme. That such Continuity exists it is impossible to
help seeing, but the extent to which it exists, and its
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significance in relation to what is called doctrinal
religion, are likely, “ without note or comment,” wholly
to escape the observation of youthful scholars.
The whole religious system of the Old Testament rests
upon the theory that the object of Religion is, not the
exaltation of man, but the delectation of the Deity; and
the stimulants offered in it to the practice of religion are
of the most material and seductive kind, wealth, honour,
long life, numerous posterity. In the New Testament
the same idea is continued, with this difference, that
experience having demonstrated the theory to be unsound
as regards this life, inasmuch as prosperity does not by
any means always accompany virtue, nor adversity vice,
rewards and punishments are there reserved for a future
state of existence, in a region inaccessible to verification
by experience.
Two other instances of Continuity between the two
divisions of Scripture may be classed together as being
intimately connected with each other. These are, the
institution of Sacrifice, and the character of the Jewish
Deity. To the instances already given of the amazing
ferocity of this Being, as represented in the Sacred Books
of the Jews, may be added the tremendous threats and
penalties denounced for the smallest transgressions, the
readiness to dart forth from the mountain and deal
destruction upon any who might but touch it; and the
perpetual demand for blood. This propensity for blood
constitutes a notable instance of Continuity in the
character of the God of the Bible. Blood of animals;
blood of peoples hostile to the Israelites; blood of
transgressors among the Israelites; and in numerous
instances, blood of unoffending men, women, and
children, even from among his own chosen people.
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(1 Sam. vi. 19 ; 2 Sam. xxiv. 15 ; Ezek. ix. 6 ; &c.) We
have already dealt with David’s sacrifice of the seven
sons of Saul: “ They hanged them in the hill before
the Lord. .... and after that God was entreated for
the land;” (2 Sam. xxi.) Jephthah’s sacrifice of his
daughter; (Jud. xi.) and Abraham’s attempt to sacri
fice his son. (Gen. xxii.) Of this last I must speak
more fully, because there are, holding high positions
both in the church and in popular estimation, as thinkers
and scholars, men who insist on drawing from it a moral
which they deem favourable to the character of the deity
as represented in the Jewish Scriptures. But at present
they have failed to do more than read back into the
Bible the civilisation of their age and their own personal
amiability. So far from their being justified in regard
ing the arrest of Abraham as a protest on the part of
the Deity against the prevailing custom of human sacri
fices, the narrative distinctly asserts that “ God tempted
Abraham ” to commit the horrid deed: that his consent
to commit it was accepted at the time as an “ act of faith,”
and rewarded by a renewal of the promise of a numerous
posterity; and not only is there in the Scriptures no
expression whatever commending him for refraining
from completing the sacrifice, but the New Testament
treats it approvingly as being as good as completed,
saying in one place, “ By faith Abraham, when he was
tried, offered up Isaac; and he that had received the
promises offered up his only-begotten son;” (Heb. xi. 17.)
and in another place, “Was not Abraham our father
justified by works, when he had offered Isaac his son
upon the altar ? Seest thou how faith wrought with his
works, and by works faith was made perfect ?” (Jam. ii.
21, 22.)
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So far from the principle of human sacrifices, or the
belief in a deity who required to be propitiated by blood,
being repudiated in the New Testament, “the Continuity
of Scripture ” is in these respects plain and indisputable,
and the principle is carried to a height undreamt of in
Old Testament times. The God of the Jewish priests
requires at length the blood of his own “ only-begotten,”
“ beloved ” son ! It is only when this tremendous climax
has been reached that the dread thirst is appeased. This
is the fundamental argument of the eminently sacerdotal
epistle to the Hebrews, (of unknown authorship). In it
we are assured that “ without shedding of blood there is
no remission of sins.” (Heb. ix. 22.) A human parent, not
in this respect “ made in the image of God,” can forgive
a repenting errant child. The divine parent, made by
priests, and at once unhuman and inhuman, must have
his “pound of flesh” from somebody. This epistle tells
us concerning Christ that “ neither by the blood of goats
and calves, but by his own blood he entered in once into
the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for
us............... So Christ was once offered to bear the sins of
many;” (ix. 12, 28.) thus adopting and justifying the
view of the high-priest Caiaphas, who, by virtue of his
sacerdotal office, counselled and I prophesied that Jesus
should die for the people;” (John xi. 50, 51.) — a
view shared even by John himself, who in one of his
epistles declares that “ God sent his only begotten Son
to be the propitiation for our sins.” (1 John iv. 9, 10.)
Thus early were the attempts of Jesus to abolish sacer
dotalism, and promulgate purer notions of the Deity,
defeated by his own disciples, or by those who wrote in
their names; and the reformation which constituted the
real Christianity, overlaid and stifled by “ the Church.”
I
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Let the churches called Christian, demonstrate, if they
will, their “ Continuity ” with the most hideous of
Jewish superstitions ; and cherish the recollection of the
worst side of the Jewish Divinity, by perpetual repetitions
of the rite which, while declining to practice it simply
“ in remembrance ” of a loved and lost benefactor, they
yet profanely style “the holy Eucharist.” Say they, it
requires a miracle to keep the church up ? Well, perhaps
it does. But if we who “ have not so learned Christ ”
are to act consistently with our more advanced ideas of
religion and morality, the “notes and comments” by which
the reading of these passages in our schools is accom
panied, must direct attention rather to the higher and
better teaching of prophetical lips ; “ the sacrifices of
God are a contrite heart; ” (Ps. li. 17.) “ he saveth such
as be of a contrite spirit;” (xxxiv. 18.) and “ dwelleth
with him that is of a contrite and humble spirit;” (Is. lvii.
15.) as well as that of Jesus himself, “If a man love
me he will keep my words; and my Father will love
him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with
him.” (John xiv. 23.) There is no savour of blood here.
If an education is.to be imparted that is consistent
with “ the development of the intellect and mor^J sense,”
the doctrine that justice can be satisfied by the substitu
tion of the innocent for the guilty, must be rigidly ex
cluded from our schools. It is true that this doctrine is
not without a certain significance; that there is a way by
which the position of the wicked may be bettered through
the condemnation of the righteous. For the punishment
of the innocent involves the divine law of justice being,
not fulfilled, but so utterly shattered and destroyed, as to
be thenceforth absolutely non-existent. The sinner’s gain,
therefore, would consist in there being no law of justice
by which he could be arraigned.
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But so invincibly implacable is the deity of at least a
great portion of the New Testament, that even such stu
pendous atonement fails to gain him over. Its benefits
are confined to a fortunate few, and his fury towards the
rest is redoubled. As Burns says, he
“ Sends ane to heaven, and ten to hell
A’ for his glory.”
The penalties of evil-doing are infinitely enhanced, and
they are applied to a fresh class of offences. Here, too,
Continuity is combined with progression; but it is,
morally, a progression backwards. The Old Testament
consigns no one to eternal punishment, neither does it
make penal the conclusions of the intellect. The New
Testament abounds in menaces of the most fearful cha
racter, not only against malefactors, but also against un
believers. It represents the Almighty, when punishing
the reprobate, as uninfluenced by anything analogous to
the human motive of promoting the security of society or
the reformation of the criminal, but inflicting torture in
the spirit of a fiend, out of pure malignity, because with
no advantage to any. “ The unbelieving and the abomi
nable” are classed together, and, we read, “shall have their
part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone;”
(Rev. xxi. 8.) “where their worm dieth not, and the
fire is not quenched;” (Mark ix. 44.) “there shall be
weeping and gnashing of teeth.” (Matt. viii. 12.) “Depart
ye cursed,” is the final doom of those who had failed to
recognise Christ on earth, “ depart ye cursed into ever
lasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.” (Matt,
xxv. 41.)
Nay, more than this. The gospels, as we have them,
actually represent Jesus himself as pronouncing sentence
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of damnation upon all who cannot work miracles. His
last words to his disciples are thus reported: “Go ye
into all the world, and preach the gospel to every crea
ture. . . He that helieveth not shall be damned.
And these signs shall follow them that believe: in my
name they shall cast out devils; they shall speak with
new tongues; they shall take up serpents; and if they
drink any deadly thing it shall not hurt them; they shall
lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.” (Mark
xiv. 16.) Not to work miracles is not to believe, and
not to believe is to be damned. Is it not certain that if
the young are allowed to read the New Testament with
out explanation or correction by “note or comment,”
they will, as have millions of tender souls to their in
expressible terror and anguish, find the gospel of Jesus to
be to them but a gospel of damnation ?
Let us return to this world and the practical concerns
of life. In its manner of dealing with the crucial act of
life, marriage, and its treatment of the relations of the
sexes generally, the New Testament takes, in regard to
the Old, a great step backwards. A demonstration of its
vacillation and utter inadequacy to provide rules for the
conduct of civilised life on this most important of all
points connected with morals, will fitly conclude this
division of the subject. To the commendation of impotency uttered by Jesus, the stress laid by him upon mere
physical fidelity, (Matt. xix. 9, 12.) and his disregard of
all incongruity or incompatibility of character or affec
tion, as a plea for separation, (a peculiarity which we
have in our institutions but too faithfully followed), must
be added these sentences of Paul: “ Art thou bound to a
wife ? Seek not to be loosed. Art thou loosed from a
wife 1 Seek not to be bound. . . It is better to marry
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than to burn,” and, “ good for the present distress.” (1 Cor.
vii. 27, 9, 29.) Hardly from this will our youth learn to
recognise love as capable of being a pure and an elevating
influence, or to give to Christianity the credit, so often
claimed for it, of having raised woman from the depressed
position in which that age found her. It will be in vain
that they read “Marriage is honourable in all,” (Heb.
xiii. 4.) when they find the prevailing spirit of the
gospel to be ascetic, exalting absolute chastity as one of
the loftiest of virtues, and denouncing all natural desire
as sinful in itself. (1 Cor. vii. 1, 38; Rev. xiv. 4.) Will
not the later teaching of Scripture appear to them to
have receded sadly in its fitness for humanity, from the
earlier which commanded men to “ increase and multi
ply;” (Gen. i. 28.) commended a virtuous woman as “a
crown to her husband;” (Prov. xii. 4.) and pronounced a
blessing on “children and the fruit of the womb;” (Ps.
cxxvii. 3, &c.) and, in so far as the relations of the
sexes are concerned, excite in them a preference for the
Jewish regime over the Christian 1
The number is beyond all reckoning, of women, the
best and noblest of their sex, the most fitted to be the
mothers and early trainers of mankind, who through a
superstitious regard to this characteristic of the New
Testament, have renounced their natural “ high calling,”
leaving to inferior types the fulfilment of the functions
upon the right exercise of which the progress, elevation,
and happiness of mankind depend ; who have withdrawn
themselves from the duties of real life into artificial
isolation, through a conscientious but mistaken belief,
that in practising the selfishness of the devotee, they are
seeking a virtue which is possible only through the exer
cise of the affections. It is in vain that Paul in his
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riper experience wrote, “ I will that the younger women
marry, bear children, guide the house,” (1 Tim. v. 14.)
when Churches persist in making so much of his earlier
utterance delivered, as he himself acknowledges, with
hesitation and doubt. “ The unmarried woman careth
for the things of the Lord, that she may be holy both
in body and spirit: but she that is married careth for
the things of the world, how she may please her hus
band,” and . . . “ I think that I have the spirit of God,”
(1 Cor. vii. 34, 40.)—as if the best, the only way of serv
ing God was not by serving man. This is but an
expression and echo of that same Manichaean principle
of Asceticism, which has led alike Pagans and Christians
innumerable to despise the material world. Blasphem
ously divorcing the Creator from his work, it teaches
that nature is so utterly corrupt and wrong, that the
more we go against and mortify it, the more likely we
are to be pure and right.
‘ And so it comes that woman, while promoted theo
logically to be “Queen of Heaven” and “Mother of
God,” ecclesiastically is regarded as a mistake of nature,
a thing to be snubbed and repressed, and condemned to
the living death of an enforced celibacy.’
One whom I dare to call the greatest of our philo
sophers, Herbert Spencer, has epitomised in a single
sentence all that can be said on this subject:—“Morality
is essentially one with physical truth. It is a kind of
transcendental physiology.” (“ Social Statics.”) It is
.through ignorance of this, the real basis and nature of
morality, that myriads of the best women in Christendom
have, in every generation, to the incalculable loss of the
whole species, made the saddest shipwreck both of their
own lives and of the lives which by their sweet and holy
influence they might have rendered supremely blest.
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There is a “ Higher Law” of morality which impels
ns to suppress our own affections and desires, not through
hope of reward here or hereafter; not through deference
to conventional standards, hut solely through an un
selfish regard to the feelings of those to whom it is our
lot to be allied. But that such a law is to be the law of
our lives, and sole standard of virtue, we find no intima
tion in the Testament, Old or New.
XII.
Yet, notwithstanding the failure of the Bible to pro
vide an authoritative or satisfactory rule either of morals
or of religion, I hold that, both for its own intrinsic
merits, and for the place which it occupies in the litera
ture and history of ourselves and of mankind, it ought
not to be excluded from the educational course of our
children.
It was proposed in the London School-board to exclude
it on the ground that its use as a religious text-book
outside the schools, makes its admission into the schools
inconsistent with religious equality. It certainly would
be, as is generally allowed, an act of gross unfairness to
admit partisan theology into a common school. But,
happily, as is also very generally allowed, speculative
dogma and practical religion are very far indeed from
being one and the same thing; and even those who
object most strongly to dogma in itself, desire to see
children brought up religiously, that is with reverential
regard for divine truth and law.
If fairness and impartiality forbid the Bible to be in
troduced and used as the text-book of any party or sect,
they equally forbid it to be excluded for happening to be
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such a text-book. For this would equally constitute
dogmatic teaching, though of a negative kind. Perfect
fairness requires that the question of the introduction
and use of a book within the schools, should not be in
any way dependent upon dogmatic opinions entertained
respecting it by parties outside the schools. Perfect
fairness forbids that anything which is good and instruc
tive in itself, be excluded merely on account of the source
from which it is derived; be it from Turk, Infidel, Heretic,
Pagan, Jew, or Christian. It is here that the limitation
imposed by our definition of education, comes to our aid,
“ The cultivation of the intelligence and moral sense” by
means of “ whatsoever things are true, pure, and honest;”
“ that fear God, and work righteousness;” and are “pro
fitable for doctrine (or teaching), for reproof, for correc
tion, for instruction in righteousness.”
Thus, in the common schools, nothing must be taught
as being the “ Word of God,” or as not being the “ Word
of God either assertion being equally dogmatic. But
everything must be allowed to derive its force from its
own intrinsic character. And. those who hold that the
children ought to be taught to regard the Bible as being,
or containing, exclusively the “ Word of God,” will only
betray their own want of faith if they express misgivings
lest that word fail to assert its own efficacy and speak its
own divine message to the soul, without special enforce
ment as such by the schoolmaster.
Perhaps, too, upon the idea being put before them,
they will even acquiesce in the suggestion, that for any
man, be he schoolmaster or priest, or any body of men,
lay or cleric, ancient or modern, even though dignified
by the title of “ General Council,” to take upon them
selves the responsibility of determining or declaring what
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is, or what is not, “ the Word of God,” is to lay them
selves open to the charge of the most stupendous pre
sumption of which finite being can possibly be guilty:
a presumption which is no other than that of declaring
themselves to be infallible, and entitled to sit in the
temple of God as if they were God. (2 Thess. ii. 4.)
And further, to declare that the Bible is or contains
exclusively “ the Word of God,” is to forbid the souls of
men to find a divine message elsewhere than in the
Bible. It is to dictate to God as well as to man. For
it is to forbid God to make of others “ ministers to do
his will.” (Ps. ciii. 21; Heb. i. 24.) It is to extract all
meaning from the saying of Jesus, “ Lo, I am with you
alway, even unto the end of the world.” (Matt, xxviii. 20.)
It is to reject that “ Spirit of truth” who was promised
to “guide us into all truth.” (John xvi. 13.) It is to
“ quench the Spirit that giveth life,” in “ the letter that
killeth.” (1 Thess. v. 1, 9; 2 Cor. iii. 6.) It is to insist
that the Almighty speak to men, like a clergyman of the
Establishment, only from a text in the Bible. Let us, if
we will, define as “ the Word of God” that which “feareth
him and worketh righteousness;” but let us not dog
matise as to what particular author or composition comes
under that category^ For “ the Word of God” can only
be the word or thought of which God makes use to im
press the heart of any. If we “ search the Scriptures,”
we find that neither by the writers of the Psalms, by the
prophets, nor by Jesus, scarcely, if ever, is the phrase
used to denote that which was already written, but only
the deeper impression then present in the mind of the
speaker or writer. If not used by God to impress the
heart, it is then not “ his word.” The same utterance
may be “ his word” on one occasion, and not on another.
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Varying for each person, it is not always the same for
any person, inasmuch as that which impresses us in
one mood, does not necessarily affect us in another. A
“ word of God” cannot fail, any more than a “ law of
God” can be broken. Any definition of Deity that does
not exclude such a possibility, is an utterly inadequate
definition, and one dishonouring to God.
But in the matter of the education of the young, we
have to use our best judgment in apportioning the means
to the end we have in view. And therefore we must
put into their hands such reading only as is plainly
adapted for their edification, whether we take it from
the Bible or from any other book. It is for children to
to be in statu pupillari to men. It is for men to be in
statu pupillari to God.
I hold, then, that the Bible should be used in our com
mon schools, First, for its intrinsic merits. In its pages
we find the most complete revelation of humanity to be
found in any written book, showing the gradual growth
of the moral and spiritual faculties from the most rudi
mentary ages to the Christiaii era. We find this mainly
in the exhibition of the rise and development, however
irregular, of the idea of God, until, from a Being so
limited in his nature and operations as to be able to
sympathise and side with only a few individuals or a
particular race, partaking all the deficiencies of their own
gross, rude natures, bribed by gifts, appeased by sacri
fices, partial, cruel, jealous, capricious, the patron and in
stigator of blood-thirsty and fraudulent men and actions,
the resort and associate of “ lying spirits,” and sharing
his sovereignty with the devil, — he is at length pre
sented to us as “ the high and holy one that inhabiteth
eternity;” (Is. lviii. 15.) “ the righteous judge;” (Rev.
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xix. 11.) “creator of all things;” (Gen. i. 1, &c.)
“ Saviour of all men;” (1 Tim. iv. 10.) “ whose kingdom
ruleth over all.” (Ps. ciii. 19).
Here we find first recorded the existence of a sense of
responsibility for our actions to a law and a power which
are above us. “ Here human nature is drawn in all its
extent, from its lowest depths to its loftiest reach; for the
Bible is a gallery in which all the paintings are life-like,
but the subjects so varied, that none are too gross for
admission. Being a revelation of God according to the
characters and imaginations of the men in whose con
sciousness his idea was conceived, it is emphatically a
revelation of man, inasmuch as man’s ideal is the index
to his own character and degree of intelligence.
This, however, is no speciality of the Bible. It is the
characteristic of all art and literature which speaks out
the genuine deeper feelings of men’s hearts ; and in this
respect, as containing the truest art, the Bible ranks as
the highest classics.
In selecting from the world’s literature, reading lessons
inculcating “ the true, the* pure, and the lovely,” who
could have the heart to exclude the remarkable hymn of
the creation; the significant allegory of Eden; the charm
ing pastoral of Isaac and Rebekah in their first love; the
touching idyl of Joseph and his brethren and their aged
father; the wondrous romance of the Exodus; the story
of Moses, that king of men; the noble recitations of law
and legend in Deuteronomy; the interesting narratives of
Samson, Samuel, David, and Solomon; the simple tales
of Ruth and of Esther, so illustrative of the manners of
the ancient east; the sublime poetry of Job and the
Psalms; the shrewd wisdom of the Proverbs; the genial
cynicism of Ecclesiastes; the magnificent outpourings of
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Isaiah, denouncing the degradation and despair of his
countrymen, and encouraging them anew to hope and to
restoration through the moral regeneration of their
nature ? (Which of us even now could not point out
some nation that has sore need of an Isaiah ?) Then the
noble lesson of Jonah, wherein children are oftener
taught to see a tale of a cross-grained prophet, a whale,
and a gourd, than to recognise the poet’s protest against
the popular notion, shared by Jonah, that the Lord was
a mere district-god who could be avoided by change of
place, and to see the moral of the fable in the representa
tion of deity as everywhere present alike, even in the
depths of the sea.
And, added to these, the exquisite purity and simpli
city of the gospels, with their central figure of Jesus and
his enthusiastic life-devotion to the cause of man’s re
demption from sin and suffering, and deliverance from
the blighting effects of religious formalism, and the
crushing weight of sacerdotalism; producing from the
harmonious depths of his own great soul a sublime ideal
of God as a Father, and a rule of life for man most noble
in conception even when most impracticable of applica
tion. (Of all the characters of history, I know of none
who would have sympathised more intensely with the
object and the views I am seeking to advance, than the
Christ whom I find in the gospels. Of course to the or
thodox and the vested interests of his day, he was only a
sad blasphemer and dangerous revolutionist.) Then, the
varied and genuine humanity of the Epistles; and, no
tably, the magnificent monologue on charity, (in the thir
teenth chapter of the first epistle to the Corinthians,)
wherein Paul, dropping his too favourite character of
Rabbinical lawyer and quibbling controversialist, soars to
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an altitude whither the churches have never yet been
able to follow him. And, lastly, the lofty rhapsody of
the Apocalypse, wherein fervid imagination, escaping
from the woes beneath which mankind was being crushed
by a Domitian and a Nero, took refuge in an ideal
“ state of God,” where all wrongs should be redressed,
all tears wiped away, the tormentors relegated to ever
lasting punishment, and sorrow and pain be no more for
their victims.
And not for its intrinsic merits only, but for its in
fluence’ on the hearts of mankind, should our children not
be strangers to the volume in which, to borrow words
from one of our most highly inspired writers, “book after
book,Law and truth and example, oracle and lovely hymn,
and choral song of ten thousand thousand, and accepted
prayers of saints and prophets, sent back as it were from
heaven, like doves to be let loose again with a new
freight of spiritual joys and griefs and necessities; where
the hungry have found food, the thirsty a living spring,
the feeble a staff, and the victorious warfarer songs of
welcome and strains of music: which for more than a
thousand years has gone hand in hand with civilisation,
. . often leading the way. . . a book which good
and holy men, thepest and wisest of mankind, the kingly
spirits of historyl enthroned in the hearts of mighty
nations, have borne witness to its influences, and declared
to be beyond compare the most perfect instrument, the
only adequate organ of humanity; the organ and instru
ment of all the gifts, powers, and tendencies, by which
the individual is privileged to rise above himself.”*
To exclude all knowledge of the Bible from our youth,
would be to make a greater gap in the education of a
* S.T. Coleridge’s “Confessions of an Inquiring Spirit.”
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Briton than to omit almost any calculable number of
other books, including the bulk of the world’s history.
Indeed it would be to exclude almost all history what
soever; not ancient history merely, with knowledge of
Egypt, Palestine, Syria, and Rome in its decline and fall;
but the history of all Christendom itself, with that of the
Papacy and the Reformation, and the whole of our own
struggles for and against liberty | (for even we have not
always been consistently on the side of freedom:) almost
all of which struggles have been associated more or less
with the Bible; the rise and origin, too, of the United
States of America. All these in the past, together with
our own condition in the present and hopes in the future,
and the signification of the vast bulk of our literature,
would, without some knowledge of the book that has
filled a leading part in them all, be absolutely dark and
meaningless.
Besides, there is not so much wisdom and beauty in
the world that we can afford to throw any away. If we
exclude the Bible altogether as being a text-book of our
own religious sects, there is no plea upon which we can
admit the admirable teaching that is to be found in the
sacred books of the Hindoos and Chinese, the Mohamme
dans and Buddhists. Nay, to exclude the good parts of
any book merely because it happens to be the text-book
of a sect, is to put it in the power of any small knot of
persons to secure the exclusion of any book whatsoever,
by claiming it as one of their sacred books. Fancy a sect
of Shakespeare worshippers getting by such means all
knowledge of Shakespeare excluded from our educational
course ! Or a new sect of Pythagoreans to revive the
worship of numbers, and, setting up Colenso as their highpriest, forcing us to exclude arithmetic from our schools !
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Indeed, if only because of the very power and popular
ity of the Bible, it should not be left to be dealt with
exclusively by a class of interpreters who acknowledge
other allegiance than to the developed intellect and con
science of men. But, containing as it does, the whole
sacred literature of the most remarkable of all ancient
peoples, the Jews, and that of their most remarkable
sect of religious reformers, the Christians, who, together,
more than any other people, have influenced the develop
ment of the human mind and the course of human his
tory; to exclude all knowledge of it from our youth
would be to keep back from them the master-key to the
heart and facts of humanity.
XIII.
But the fact of the Bible being, not a single book, but
a whole literature ranging over many centuries, greatly
simplifies the question of dealing with it. We rarely use
the whole of any book in the schoolroom; never an entire
literature. Imagine the whole, or samples of the whole, of
our own literature being put at once into the hands of a
child, with its rude early legends and ballads, its laws and
statutes, its medicine and science, its trials and police
reports, and all the revolting details which even the least
respectable of our newspapers suppress as “ unfit for pub
lication !” Yet this is what we have done with the
ancient literature of the Jews. Instead of exercising any
discrimination, we crowd our houses with it, we read it
aloud to our families, we put it entire into the hands of
■our children; and when we find impurity and supersti
tion rife among us, instead of admitting that we have
■done our best to promote them, we postulate the horrible
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doctrines of “ original sin ” and “ total depravity,” and
shift the responsibility from our own shoulders to those
of “the devil!” It was remarked once by a well-known
Frenchman that “the English tolerate no indecencies
except in their Bibles.” Fatal exception, when we print
Bibles in millions, in all the languages of the earth, and
thrust them into the hands of every babe and suckling
and growing youth.
The remedy which I propose is twofold : First, that a
new version, omitting the whole of the parts which are
objectionable on the score of decency, omitting also the
headings by which ecclesiastical editors have sought to
palliate immorality or strain the meaning to the support
of particular doctrines, be made to take the place of the
existing “ authorised versionand that this be done
so completely that the old version be no longer accessible
to the young, but continue to exist only as a curiosity
or book of reference upon the shelves of students.
This change is one which, while it might be'initiated
by the School-boards undertaking to produce such a
version for the use of their schools, would require both
general and individual action on the part of the people
themselves. It will be aided by the wise resolve of the
Bible-revision Committee to omit the headings from their
new and improved version. If the powers of this Com
mittee were extended so as to enable it to make these
changes, a great step towards carrying out this part of
my proposed remedy would be gained. To further it
would be an admirable occupation for a society which
has existed for years among us under the presidency of
Lord Shaftesbury, calling itself “ The Pure Literature
Society.” Strange to say that, with all its zeal for
purity in literature, it has never yet tried its hand on
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the Bible. It will indeed prove itself worthy of its high
title and calling, when it joins in the chase of the
“ authorised version ” from our homes, and the pews of
our churches, so that children shall no longer be tempted
to beguile the tedium of a sermon by feeding their
curiosity on its improprieties.
It is related of Goethe that he was present at a meeting
of the Dutch clergy, when it was proposed to establish
a censorship to enforce the expurgation of any improper
books which might be brought forward for publication!
Goethe at once expressed his admiration of the plan, and
recommended that they commence with the Bible.
Whereupon the king of Holland said to him, “ My dear
Goethe, pray hold your tongue. Of course you are quite
right: but it won’t do to say so.”
This, however, is not enough. There are, as we have
seen, very many portions of the Bible which, while not
totally “ unfit for publication,” are yet shocking, to the
intellect and moral sense if accepted literally as true,
inasmuch as they are libellous to the Deity. I propose,
therefore, Secondly, that teachers be required, alike by
School-boards and by parents, whenever such portions
of Scripture are read,—(and they ought to be read, if
only to show the advance we have made)—to make their
pupils clearly understand that they represent only the
imperfect notions of a barbarous age and people. ' That
just as the Greeks had their supreme ruling divinity in
Zeus, their divinity of song in Apollo, of war in Ares, of
gain in Hermes, of storms in JEolus, of wisdom in Pallas,
and of love in Aphrodite; so the Jews, instead of dis
tributing these functions among a number of distinct
divinities, ascribed them all in turn, no matter how
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incongruously, as occasion required, to their own Jehovah.
By turn he is a “ man of war,” he is “love,” he is “fire,”
he “ rides on the wings of the wind,” and so on.
We cannot even accord to the Jews the credit, often
claimed for them, of being, in a world of polytheists, the
only pure monotheists. It is true that their institutions
forbade the worship of more than one God.; but they
recognised the existence of many gods. They were
monotheists in worship, but not in faith. Their Jehovah
was a far too unsociable, exclusive, “jealous” God, to
share their homage with others. He thus was made
strictly in the image of the Jews themselves, the most
exclusive of human races. That Baal and Chemosh,
Ashtoreth and Molech, were all realities for them, is
shown in frequent utterances ascribed even to Jehovah
himself. And Solomon, though “ the wisest of men,”
established their worship in Jerusalem. The Bible
shows, tod, by numerous instances, that the Jews were
by no means satisfied with their own deity. The minds
of their loftiest poets, indeed, occasionally, in their
loftiest moods, rose to the conception of a deity, one and
universal; but they did this in common only with the
loftiest minds of all peoples, ages, and religions; those
minds whose opinions have ever been regarded by the
conventional and superstitious as atheistic and blasphem
ous, whether it be Socrates, Spinoza, Shelley, or Jesus.
But even if the Jews acknowledged but one God, they
called him by various names ; and it would be an addi
tional safeguard against superstition if, in the new
version, those names were preserved. In translating
the Latin and Greek writers we never think of substitu
ting God for Jupiter or Apollo. There is no valid
reason for dealing differently with Jehovah, Elohim,
Adonai, Shaddai.
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This, then, is the whole conclusion :—
(1.) That the Bible should be admitted into the
schools; but it must be a purified, an expurgated Bible;
and (2.) That its reading must be accompanied by such
“ notes and comments ” as will make it really conducive
to the development of the Intelligence and Moral Sense
of the scholars.
But to minister to these ends, it must be read with no
adventitious solemnity that might specialise it as a
superior authority, and invest it with a preter-educational
character. For this would at once be to remove it from
the category of legitimate educational uses, by exempting
it from the operation of the normal digestive apparatus
of the intellect. In short, to make the Bible useful for
education, it must be taught comparatively. And as this
implies the possession of a certain amount of related
knowledge, it is clear that there is but very little of it
that is suited to the very young or very ignorant.
XIV.
Now for the general principle on which these u notes
and comments ” should be based.
It is universally acknowledged that the human mind
is endowed with a tendency to imagine the Deity as pos
sessed in perfection of all the qualities which are recog
nised by itself as best. The strength of this tendency is
ever in inverse proportion to the degree of the mind’s
development, being greatest in the most rudimentary
stage of intelligence.
Investing the Deity with the attributes of personality,
the finite mind cannot do otherwise than make God in
its own image. The character of that image is the mea
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sure of our own moral and spiritual capacity. For, when
by God we mean the ideal of our own imagination, it
follows that the character of our God indicates the de
gree of our own development. Later on, when the mind
attains a certain advanced stage of intellectual progress,
we find our conception of Deity so transcendently en
larged, that no definition satisfies us, save one which re
cognises Him as the sum of all the forces, physical, moral,
and spiritual, at work in the universe; the divine work,
which we call Nature, being the sum of all phenomena.
God the sum of causes, Nature the sum of effects. This
is no dogma. It is only a definition of what we mean
by God, what by nature.
For the purposes of early education, however, we have
to deal with God in a moral aspect, as the Ideal of
Humanity j the perfection towards which it is our high
est function to strive. Wherefore, nothing can be more
fatal to our moral progress than to have that ideal de
graded to a low type of character. If we are to call him
“ Fool,” who, denying cause and effect, says, “ there is
no God,” (Ps. xiv. 1.) what are we to say of him who
teaches that God is evil ? What, again, are we to call
those who, holding that God is absolutely good, and that
a firm belief in that goodness is requisite to enable man
to be good also, and who, moreover, desire to cultivate
goodness in their children, yet hesitate not to put into
the hands of those children narratives of impurity,
cruelty, and deceit, and tell them that the perpetrators
and their deeds were acceptable to, and indeed prompted
by, the Deity ? If the purpose of right education be to
develop the moral sense, what sort of education is this ?
If another- purpose be to develop the intellect, how is this
end to be served, when the only way of escape that such
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teachers have, on being questioned by their perplexed
pupils, lies in declaring it to be a “ mystery,” and so
closing the doors of their intelligence the moment it
begins to expand ? .
Keeping in mind the remarks I have made respecting
the inevitable anthropomorphism of all imperfectly de
veloped minds, you will perceive that it involves no
reproach to the Jews that, in those early stages of human
progress, they partook of the universal tendency, and
constructed their God in their own image; that they
credited him with the qualities, moral and immoral,
which they found in themselves; and, in their total
ignorance of natural law and phenomena, were more ready
to seek the divine hand in departures from the regular
order of nature, than to recognise it in its establishment
and maintenance. It is thus that all early literatures
necessarily contain prodigies and fables illustrative of the
imperfect notions of their period. And so far from these
things being true because they are in the Bible, or a re
proach to the Jews in being untrue, the miracle really
would have been if there were no miracles, no anthro
pomorphism, in the Scriptures. In this sense, therefore,
it may be said that the truth of the Bible is proved by
the untruths of the Bible.
Even if we give the Jews credit as having done their
best for the honour of their god in thus constructing him
in their own image, we assuredly cannot lay claim to
similar credit for ourselves. For we have fallen infinitely
below our own best, in the character we have assigned
to our God. Think for a moment how marvellous is the
anomaly we present. For six days of the week we avail
ourselves freely of the wondrous results of the most ad
vanced science and culture, philosophy and thought, of
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this nineteenth century after Christ, in which the labours
of all former centuries have culminated, and we do this for
our own advantage and enjoyment; and on the seventh
day, when the honour of our God is concerned, we are con
tent to jump back to the nineteenth century before Christ,
and borrow for him both character and lineaments from
a semi-barbarous Syrian tribe, whose whole literature
proves their absolute incapacity to comprehend the
simplest of his works in nature. And in their image,
fitful and vengeful, we make our God, refusing him the
benefits of the light we have gained. A wondrous feat
of moral and intellectual athletics is this our weekly
jump backward and then-forward again.
The resolution finally passed by the London Board
provides that “ the Bible shall be read, and there shall
be given therefrom such instruction in the principles of
religion and morality, as is suitable to the capacities of
children, no attempt being made to attach the children
to any particular denomination.”
Thus, the Bible is to be read “ with notes and com
ments.” If, however, these notes and comments are not
to be of the kind I have just described, the Resolution
means absolutely nothing. If the teachers are not to
explain that Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, Samuel, David,
and Solomon, were, in respect of the acts which have been
enumerated, exceedingly bad men, and that the deity
who is said in the Bible to have approved of them, was
but the imaginary local divinity of the Hebrews as re
presented by their priests, the Resolution is nothing but
an illusion and a blind. If the teacher is not to say that
Abraham was wrong to follow his impulse to sacrifice
his son; Jacob wrong to cheat his nearest and dearest
relations ; Samuel wrong to revoke his sovereign’s pledge
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of clemency, and rebelliously to set up a rival to him;
David wrong to sacrifice the sons of Saul, and to order
the execution of the man he had sworn to spare; if
he is not to say that Jesus and the apostles were mis
taken in expecting the early end of the world rand
re-appearance of Christ; that the story of his birth
is a piece of mere paganism, and that many of the
injunctions in the New Testament are not fitting rules
for civilised life—the Resolution is utterly devoid
of meaning. I am not saying that it may not be per
fectly sound theology to praise Abraham and Jacob for
these things, and represent the deity as approving of
them, but only that it is neither good religion nor good
morality; and it is not theology, but religion and mor
ality, which, both by the Education Act and the Resolu
tion, the teacher is bound to inculcate. Even if it be
true that morality is based upon religion, the religion
containing such theology can certainly not claim to be in
any way connected with morality. And to teach it will
be to go directly in the face of the Resolution which
provides “ that instruction be given from the Bible in
the principles,” not of theology, but “of religion and
morality.” Wherefore, when a question arises in the
schools, such as that of the propriety of Abraham’s com
pliance, of Jael’s treachery, or of Caiaphas’s counsel to
offer up Jesus in human sacrifice as an atonement for the
people;—the teacher acting in accordance with our
definition and the Board’s Resolution, will have no
choice but to reply, “ The justification of these actions
belongs to the domain of theology. Morality unequivo
cally condemns them. And my duty here is to teach
you morality.”
And this, I think, settles the question which has been
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raised since the passing of the Resolution, namely, the
question, Who is to give Biblical or religious instruction
in the schools, whether the ordinary teachers who are
responsible to the Board, or the clergy or other persons
specially appointed for that ^purpose by the various reli
gious bodies themselves ? The resolution declares that
the children are to be taught, not theology, but Religion
and Morality. To admit, therefore, independent teachers
of theology, would be, in so far as such theology is in
conflict with religion and morality, to admit teachers of
irreligion and immorality, and would thus neutralise the
Resolution of the Board, and the whole object of educa
tion, which, as cannot be repeated too often at this time,
consists in the development of the intellect and moral
sense.
Probably nothing could be put before the young more
pernicious than the teaching of the official theologian.
It was but the other day that a clergyman of the English
Establishment preached a sermon to the effect that Jacob
was quite right to cheat his father and brother because
he knew that he should make a better use of the property
than they would. No, however sound the theology of such
teaching may be, and this is no rare or extreme instance,
it certainly is not the teaching by which either the
intelligence or the moral sense of children is likely to be
developed.
XV.
So far from the simple and natural explanation which
I have given of the incongruities and contradictions con
tained in the Bible, having been diligently promulgated
by those who have’ undertaken to be its interpreters, our
spiritual teachers have, on the contrary, during some
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three hundred years done their best to erect the Bible
into an jinfallible standard, not merely of theology, but
of religion and morality. Outvying the apostle who, in
the excess of his zeal, cut off one ear, they have done
their best to stop up both ears against the voice of reason
and conscience. They forget that Jesus restored the in
jured organ.
It is true that an excuse for the existence of the popular
theory, and for the tenacity with which it has held its
ground, is not far to seek. It was natural that we should
feel a high degree of gratitude towards the book which
materially aided us in emancipating ourselves from the
yoke of mediaeval Papalism, and asserting our own indi
viduality among the community of the nations. It was
natural that our enthusiasm for the agent of our deliver
ance should lead us to place it high, even too high, in our
regards. And so it came that we replaced an infallible,
but discomfited, Pope by an infallible book; not per
ceiving that, if indeed it was a credit to the Bible to
have made us free, we do the reverse of honour to it by
allowing it to tyrannise over us in turn.
Again, in addition to being a grateful, we are an emi
nently prudent, folk. We prefer to be on with a new *
love before we are quit of the old. Hating anything
like an interregnum, we cry, “ The king is dead. Long
live the king,” without the interval of a moment. And
so we continue to cling to the old accustomed dwelling,
letting it crumble into ruin around us, rather than endure
a brief season of discomfort while waiting for the rear
ing of a new habitation on its site. “ If we give up the
Bible as an infallible guide,” it is asked, “ to what are
we to look in its place 1 ”
Having at present to deal with facts, and not with
fancies, there is no need to enlarge on the popular dogma
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further than to say that, not being contained in the Bible
itself, but being unknown alike to the Fathers of the
primitive Church, to the Reformers of the sixteenth cen
tury, and to the articles and formularies of both the
Romish Church and the English, it must have its basis
in modern innovation rather than in ancient authority.
I ascribe, then, the popular theory respecting the
Bible in some degree to the causes I have named, but
mainly to that instinctive monarchical tendency which
leads the uneducated to distrust their own intelligence
and moral sense, and require some palpable ruler and
guide. “ In their ignorance of the experimental cha
racter of human nature, men will seek infallibility some
where ; in an oracle, a priest, a church, or a book.” This
tendency has been, as a rule, sedulously fostered by
governments and teachers. Once deprived of their
Fetich, and roused from indolent acquiescence in its
supposed commands, they cry out that their gods have
been stolen from them, and fancy that the universe
will collapse, because they are now forced to fulfil their
proper vocation, and use their own faculties.
It was in virtue of this characteristic that the Swiss
theologians of the seventeenth century maintained the
inspiration • of the comparatively recent vowel-points of
the Hebrew text: that the early Christians ascribed a
supernatural origin to the Septuagint; and the Council of
Trent gave an authority superior to that of the original
texts to the Vulgate, which attained such a height of
superstitious respect that, according to Erasmus, some
monks, on seeing it printed in parallel columns between
the Greek and the Hebrew, likened it to Christ crucified
between the two thieves. (Colloquies.) And it was even
seriously proposed by the theological faculty of Mayence,
�'’-ft
^■r,'‘'7?-,?>,''z
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77
in the 15th century, to make a total “ revision and cor
rection of the Hebrew Bible, inasmuch as it differed
from the authorised Latin translation ! ”
Perhaps the most singular fact in connection with the
popular doctrine is, that to doubt its accuracy has come
to be treated as a piece of heinous moral depravity, and
this even by some who ought to know better. When
the eminent author of the “Christian Year” was con
sulted respecting a difficulty in the way of receiving it,
felt by Dr Arnold, then a student, Keble’s advice was
“ work it down 1 Throw yourself wholly into your
parish or your school, and work it down! ” * This
simply meant, “ ignore itas if faith consisted in the
suppression of doubt, and conscientious scruples were
demons to be exorcised.
Later in life, when pressed on the same point by Sir
John Coleridge, who urged the subject on him as one
that he was competent to deal with, adding that it pro
mised shortly to become the great religious question of
the time, Mr Keble, after endeavouring to evade an
swering, replied shortly that “most of the men who had
difficulties on this subject were too wicked to be reasoned
with.”t Such was the answer of one of the most vene
rated of modern Sacerdotalists to a near relative. of the
great Coleridge, who (in the book I have already quoted)
had pronounced the popular doctrine to be “ superstitious
and unscriptural.”
“ Ignore a conscientous scruple, or you are too wicked
to be reasoned with I” Respect a dogma because it is a
dogma, no matter how the reason and the conscience, nay,
the Almighty himself, be outraged thereby! Submit
humbly to authority, no matter how immoral its require* Stanley’s Life of Arnold.
f Coleridge’s Memoirs of Keble.
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ments! Ignore your scruples, and instead of manfully
“facing your doubts” and “beating your music out,” let
your doubt remain, an unresolved discord, to jar ever
more within your soul! To such straits are they driven
who remain in bondage to “ the weak and beggarly ele
ments” of the popular orthodoxy. Surely it is time for
us to say positively that we will not commit the minds
and consciences of our children to teachers who will bring
them up to regard sincerity as a vice, and crush at once
both intellect and moral sense by superstition, popular or
ecclesiastical.
XVI.
But though our immediate teachers in nursery, school
and pulpit, have laboured assiduously to inculcate this
dogma, it may safely be affirmed that, in addition to the
vast range of authorities already named who reject it,
there is not at this day a single scholar, (I do not say
“learned divine,” but scholar of acknowledged critical
ability,) lay or cleric, orthodox or heretic, in Christendom,
who holds it for himself. One and all, they recognise the
existence in the Bible of, at the very least, a largely per
vading. element of human imperfection. It is true that
Dr Hook in his “ Church Dictionary” defines “ Inspira
tion” as being “the extraordinary or supernatural in
fluence of the Spirit of God on the human mind, by
which the prophets and sacred writers were qualified to
receive and set forth divine communications without any
mixture of error,” and asserts upon his own sole autho
rity that in this sense the term occurs in the passage,
“ all scripture (is) given by inspiration of God.” (2 Tim.
iii. 16.) It is true that in this he is followed by Dr
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Wordsworth and other prominent churchmen. But no
critical scholar ventures to affirm that “ Inspiration ” is
identical with, or implies, “ Infallibility.” On the con
trary, their profoundest investigations only serve to de
monstrate the truth of the conclusion patent to common
sense, that humanity is so constructed as to be incapable
of infallibility in the absence of means of verification;
and that the being prompted by a “ holy spirit,” or dis
position, by no means guarantees a man against error,
however wide his spiritual range, or deep his spiritual
insight.
But farther, even if the original text could be regarded
as infallible, there is the. fact that we do not possess that
original text, and that the documents which claim to be
derived from it, have passed through the hands of many
copyists, each more or less accurate, more or less honest.
And were the text certainly perfect as it is certainly most
defective, there are still the difficulties of translation, diffi
culties which are, as every scholar knows, often absolutely
insurmountable. For the language of different nations
varies with their ideas, and their ideas vary with their
institutions, associations, and habits; so that different
languages frequently have no terms whatever in which to
express the ideas contained in other languages. Many
tropical tribes, for instance, have no words to express
such things as ice and snow, because those things are alto
gether unknown to them. A translation, therefore, of
the Bible into their language is, so far as ice and snow
are concerned, impossible. “ In the islands of the South
Seas there were no quadrupeds Until the first navigators
took some pigs there, when the name given by the natives
to the pigs, became the generic term for all four-legged
animals. The horse was the big pig that runs over the
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ground. The cow was the great milky pig. The sheep
the curly pig. We may imagine the feelings with which
the pious translators of the Bible for the islanders found
themselves compelled to use a corresponding designation
for the phrase “Lamb of God.” The Zulus of South
Africa had no idea of God or a future state, and prized
above all things flesh in an advanced stage of decomposi
tion. Wherefore the missionaries in translating the Bible
for them, and rendering the supreme good in their lan
guage, were obliged to identify God and heaven with
rotten meat.
The same lack of corresponding terms exists more or
less between all languages, as is shown by the fact that
words and phrases are often transported whole from one
language into another. Moreover, words used to express
actions, principles, or qualities, in one language, often be
come concreted into persons and things by the genius of
another. And in all languages, or nearly all, the same
word frequently has many different significations. (As
in English the words Jac,
&c., have each half-a-dozen
meanings.) It sometimes happens, therefore, that a trans
lator has to be guided by what he is led by the context
or some other criterion to think the passage is likely to
mean.
Thus, in the passage, “ Whosoever will save his life
shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake
shall find it. For what is a man profited if he shall gain
the whole world, and lose his own soul ? or what shall a
man give in exchange for his soul?” (Matt. xvi. 25, 26.)
—the word rendered soul is precisely the same, article
and all, with the word rendered life.
Again, for the word spirit, which is used by us in nearly
a score of different senses, personal and impersonal, the
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Greek equivalent, pneumo,, generally, if not always, signi
fies the air, breath, or life. In the well-known passage
in John, (iii. 8.) “ The wind bloweth where it listeth, and
thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence
it cometh and whither it goeth; so is every one that is
born of the spirit,”—the word rendered wind, and the
word spirit, are identical, article and all, with each other.
Yet the translators have given to the same word, occur
ring in the same sentence, two entirely different mean
ings. And, as if to justify this, the modern printers of
the. Greek text sometimes give a capital initial to the
word which is translated spirit; thus in a measure, alter
ing the text to suit the authorised version.
Such was the imperfection of the ancient Hebrew for
the purposes of expression in writing, that it was not
until long after the Bible had been written that the dis
tinction between the tenses of past and future was pro
perly developed. It was in their confusion between these
tenses that our translators, in the magnificent ode of
Isaiah beginning, “ Comfort ye, comfort ye, my people,”
produced the absurd and impious phrase, “ She hath re
ceived at the Lord’s hand double for all her sins,” in
stead of the joyous assurance, “ She shall receive . . .
double for all her sufferings.” (xl. 2.) It is easy to im
agine the difficulty attending prophetic expression in a
language which had no distinct future tense !
A very little reflection on the modus operandi of what
theologically is called “ Inspiration,” will at once exhibit
to us the fallacy of the popular notion. It can only con
sist of an impulse or impression on the mind, so strong
as to make the individual receiving it, ascribe it to a
preternatural source. But, however irresistible for him,
the authority and character of the impression must still
F
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be determined, not by its strength in relation to his
mind, but by its own intrinsic nature. A bad impres
sion cannot proceed from a healthy source; neither does
a strong impression imply accuracy of doctrine. It is
under an irresistible impulse that the maniac mother
flings her child down a well. It is under an impression
so strong as to be for him an inspiration or divine reve
lation that the celibate takes his unnatural vow, the
devotee starves himself into bad health, the Russian
fanatic mutilates his body, and the Revivalist goes into
convulsions of madness. Thus, whatever is claimed to
be a divine revelation, must be referred ultimately to the
test of the Intellect and Moral Sense, as the sole canon
of criticism. Even the common notion that infallibility
may be attested by the power to work miracles, must be
disclaimed in presence of the instances ascribed in
Scripture to magical or diabolical agency.
“ Wherefore, although a man may have an overwhelm
ing sense that something claiming to be God has spoken
to him, it is clear, that unless he has a prior, personal and
infallible knowledge of God,—a knowledge prior, that is,
to his ‘ inspiration,’—he knows not but that it may be
a demon assuming the garb of light, perhaps even one of
those ‘ lying spirits’ who are represented in the Bible as
infesting even heaven itself, or a fantastic creation of his
own excited fancy. It behoves him, therefore, still to
judge the communication in his calmer moments by its
own intrinsic character, and to deliberate upon the actions
to which it impels him.” The wider the range we learn
to assign to Nature and the human faculties, the less be
comes our necessity for seeking a preternatural origin for
our ideas and impulses, and the more honour we pay to
the divine worker and his work.
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The prevalent readiness to distrust our own ability to
.perceive the higher moral facts of the universe, and our
consequent liability to refer all revelation to the con
sciousness of men who lived ages ago, is, no doubt, attri
butable partly to our possession of so many ancient books
which claim our attention, and draw our minds away
from the contemplation of the direct action of the uni
verse upon our own individual consciousness; and partly
to the repressing influence of those sacerdotal interests
which naturally repose upon traditional authority rather
than upon living insight and reason.
The habit is one to be firmly checked if we would
avoid the practical Atheism of banishing G-od and Truth
from the living present to the dead past. “ The creed or
belief of any age is, at best, but the index to the height
■of the divine presence of Truth in that ago.” To adopt
its limitations as our own, is to turn a deaf ear to the
voice of that “ Spirit of Truth” or Truthfulness, of whom
it was said by one who himself drew all his inspiration from
within, that “ when he is come he will guide you into all
truth.” (John xvi. 13.) It is but a limited sway that this
Spirit of Truthfulness has as yet obtained. Wherefore
the effect of all dogmas,—whether formulated in creeds,
■catechisms, or articles of faith,—and their maintenance by
oaths and emoluments, independently of intrinsic pro
bability or any possibility of verification, is to arrest
the natural development of Humanity and to disturb and
retard the whole process of the evolution of the species,
in regard to its highest functions. It is to give the
world a base money-bribe to retain in its maturity the
form, the garb, the dimensions, the ^maturity of its
childhood. Hear a recent utterance of one who, with
whatever drawbacks, seeks still to combine the prophet
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and the poet, and thus, with “ Songs before Sunrise,’^ •
heralds the dawn of better times:
A creed is a rod,
And weapon of night:
But this thing is God,
To be man with thy might,
To grow straight in the strength of thy spirit,
And live out thy life as the light. *
The very word Inspiration, in its primary meaning,
relates to the atmosphere. It is an ancient supposition
that ideas are inhaled with the breath. A man found
himself possessed of an idea or thought which the
moment before he had not. Whence could it have
come, if not in-breathed, or inspired, with the air 1 It
was Pythagoras who conceived the idea that the vital
process of the world is a process of breathing, the
infinite breath or atmosphere of the Universe being the
source of all life. An imaginative Oriental people
readily, in their expressions, personified such supposed
source of life and thought. We matter-of-fact Westerns
go on to make such personification absolute and dog
matic. Pn&uma, the air, becomes a personal spirit, or
assemblage of spirits, and divinely “ inspires ” us: as in
the old days of philosophy in Persia, under the influence
of which, during, or after the Babylonish captivity,
many of the Jewish sacred books evidently were com
posed,—’the breath, or Div, formed a linguistic basis for
a personal Devil,j
Ideas in the air !
Those who know what it is to
* Swinburne, very slightly altered.
t Cons. Donaldson’s “ Christian OrthodoxyArt. “Interme
diate Intelligences.”
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-crouch in the unhealthy confinement of close study, ever,
as the Poet says,
“ With blinded eyesight poring over miserable books,”
till heart and head become heavy and dull; and then to
betake themselves to seaside or mountain, where the
fresh winds of heaven blow freely upon them, inflating
their lungs, aerating their blood, and “sweeping the
cobwebs from their brains,” until the renovated organism
becomes re-charged with creative energy, and ideas
begin anew to spring up in the mind, revealing to it
“ Tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything, ”
—such as these can well appreciate the charming old
fancy that peopled the air with ideas, and regarded
every new thought as a separate spirit. It is only under
theologic manipulation that such gentle poetry becomes
steam-hammered into hard dogma, that existence is rob
bed of its charm, and millions of mankind are doomed
to pass through life, and to leave it, without ever having
been allowed to know how good the world really is.
But above and beside the questions of Inspiration, of
Language, of Transcription, and Translation, there is
the question of Interpretation. And, supposing all other
difficulties surmounted, we are here met by an impass
ible barrier. For the proposition is nothing less than
axiomatic, that “ an infallible revelation requires an
infallible interpreter : and that both are useless without
an infallible understanding wherewith to comprehend
the interpretation.”
By such demonstration of the utter impossibility of
infallibility, (in the theologic sense,) the ground is
entirely cut away from beneath, not only all past, but all
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• future superstitions. For, by. annihilating “ authority,
it compels us to refer everything whatsoever to the
criterion of the intellect and moral sense of man. There
is now, therefore, no longer any space for " dogma.”
XVII.
To the list of authorities already given, I propose to
add a few representative names from the various schools
of theologic thought within the Established Church.
The first is that of the Bev. Dr Irons, who, in his
remarkable little volume, “ The Bible and its Inter
preters,” declares that “ any reasonable being who
would accept the Scriptures at all, must take them on
some other ground than that which identifies the written
Word with God’s Eevelation. A more hopeless, carnal,
and, eventually sceptical position, it is impossible to
conceive.” (p. 39.) Dr Irons, in this, follows the learned
Bishop of St David’s, Dr Thirlwall, whose recent noble
protest against the dishonesty of sacerdotal bigotry in
high places, in relation to the work of Biblical revision,
may well raise our respect for him to veneration, as one
who, in spite of his position, has dared practically to
point the distinction between Morality and the prevalent
Theology. In one of his Episcopal charges, Dr Thirlwall
points out the fact that “ Among the numerous passages
of the New Testament in which the phrase The Word
of God,” occurs, there is not one in which it signifies the
Bible, or in which that word could be substituted for it
without manifest absurdity.
It is notorious that the popular imagination is wont
to regard the same phrase, when used in the Psalms, as re
ferring, if not to the whole of the Old and New Testaments,
at least to the books ascribed to Moses and Samuel. .
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87
The late Dean of Canterbury, Dr. Alford, in his
“New Testament for English readers,” (p. 3.) says,
“Each man reported and each man selected according
to his own personal characteristics of thought and
feeling.”
Yet one other name, that of Bishop Colenso, whose
critical analysis of the Hebrew text is allowed by
scholars to constitute one of the most remarkable monu
ments of patient labour and sober judgment to be
found in literature. These scholars, approaching the
subject from opposite directions, agree in their main
conclusions. Their immediate motives, however, differ
considerably. The object of Dr. Irons is to force us
back, in the search for Infallibility, to rely altogether
upon “the Church.” “Hearthe Church,” is his maxim.
(Matt, xviii. 17.) But which Church ? we must ask,
and ask in vain. What saith the Church of England
in her articles? “As the Churches of Jerusalem,
Antioch, and Alexandria, have erred, so also hath the
Church of Rome erred.” (Art. xix.) Moreover, “General
Councils.............sometimes have erred.” (xxi.) (It was
a general Council that determined what books should
form the canon of Scripture, and what should be
rejected.) Can we wonder if the other Churches rejoin,
as at least one of them has done, with anathemas,
“ So also hath the Church of England erred ?”
The object of Dean Alford was to mediate between
the two extremes of popular orthodoxy and the results
of critical knowledge.
That of Bishop Colenso is simply to find out and state
what is the fact, believing that such purpose alone is
consistent with the deference due to the intellect and
moral sense of man, to truth, and to God Himself. In
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one of his “ Natal Sermons,” he sums up the results of
his labours by describing the Bible as containing the
“Early attempts at History,” the writers of which
record, with «the simplicity of childhood, the first ima
ginings of thoughtful men about the Earth’s formation
and history, and mingle with traditionary lore and
actual fact, the legends and mythical stories of a hoar
antiquity, yet tell us how men were “ moved by the
Holy Ghost,” in those days, how they were “feeling
after God,” and finding Him, how the light shone
clearer and clearer upon their minds, as the day-star
of Eternal truth rose higher and higher upon them. . . .
A human book, in short, though a book full of divine
life.............written, as Paul says, for our learning, but
not all infallibly true.” (i. p. 62, &c.) •
But Dr. Irons and Bishop Colenso, while differing
apparently so widely in their motives, yet have in reality .
the same object. The Bishop would force us back
directly upon the Intellect and the Moral Sense. And
Dr Irons would force us back upon them through the
intermedium of “ the Church,” whatever that may be.
For we need not entertain the uncharitable supposition,
that he would have us substitute the authority of the
Church for that of the Mind and the Conscience.
XVIII.
There is yet another authority to which it is necessary
to refer, inasmuch as it is the highest present expression
of the intellect and moral sense of the country applied
to the regulation of human life in its secular relations.
We have seep that, so far as following Christ and his
precepts are concerned, there are many respects in
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89
which both the Church and the world are palpably
anti-Christian. The world rejects communism, celibacy,
and contempt of knowledge; and both Church and
world set at nought the most positive injunctions of
Christ and of the Bible, as in taking medicine and in
praying in Church. The practice of our Courts of
Law is equally in opposition to the. popular doctrine of
an infallible Bible. Yet, with curious confusion, the
popular mind still endeavours to concur with both;
and judges still have the audacity to assert that the law .
of the land is founded on the Bible.
I will give an example or two.
You will remember the passages I quoted (p. 44.) in
reprobation of the medical profession, and of those who,
in illness, “ Seek not to the Lord, but to the physicians.”
Well, we have among us a small sect calling itself after
a Bible-phrase, “ The Peculiar People.” These hold
that prayer is the only allowable resource for Christians
in tijne of sickness. They do not refuse to cure them
selves of hunger by food, of fatigue by rest, or to pick
themselves up when they fall. They have no consistent
theory or uniform practice respecting the relation of
means to ends. But because a verse in one of the
Epistles enjoins the calling in of the elders to pray over
the sick, and declares that “the prayer of faith shall
save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up;” (Jam.
v. 14.) they prefer to die sooner than call in a doctor, or
take any medicine. Had the Apocrypha been thought
fit by our Church to be included in the Canon, this sect
would have had no existence, for the Book of Ecclesiasticus contains several warm commendations of medicine
and medical men : saying, “ Honour the physician. . . .
for the Lord hath created him............... the Lord hath
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created medicines out of the earth; and he that is wise
will not abhor them.” (xxxviii. i. 1-15, &c.)
A short time ago, however, the neighbours of the
people who are so very “ peculiar” as to show their faith
in the New Testament by their works, and to risk their
lives on the strength of a vote in an ecclesiastical council,
(that rejecting the Apocrypha,) were scandalised by
observing that they had allowed a child to die without
taking any human means to save it. An appearance in
the police-court followed, when the leaders of the sect
attempted to justify their conduct by an. appeal to the
Scriptures. But so diametrically opposed is the Spirit of
our Law to that of the Sacred Books upon which our
Law-Established Church is founded, that the magistrate,
though he made allowance for the offenders on the ground
of gross ignorance, flatly refused to receive their plea, and
warned them that on a repetition of the offence, nothing
would save them from being committed for trial on a
charge of manslaughter. And his conduct received the
approbation of a country calling itself Christian!
The other instance is that of the late case of “ Lyon
versus Home.” This was an action for restitution of’
money obtained under false pretences; and of course in
an action of this nature the one thing to be proved is
that the pretences under which the money was obtained,
were false.
The defendant Home is one of a sect of persons who
claim to hold intercourse with the spirits of the dead.
The prosecutor Lyon is, (or was,) a believer in thedoctrines of that sect, and in the defendant Home as one
of its chief apostles. She is, (or was,) also a wealthy
widow; and under the supposed injunctions of her
departed husband, as made known to her through the-
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mediumship of Home, she made over to Home a large
portion of her property, I believe some <£60,000, but
the amount, however material elsewhere, is not material
to our argument.
You will bear in mind that what I am about to relate
occurred in a country whose laws maintain, at an enormous
expense to its people, a Church called Christian, whose
Sacred Books,—which are accepted by the whole nation
officially as divinely inspired, and by the bulk of the
nation individually as infallibly true,—repeatedly and
unmistakeably affirm the leading doctrines of the sect to
which the parties in this case belonged; namely, that
intercourse is possible and frequent between the living
and the spiritual world.
To quote some of the numerous passages involving this
belief, there is the well-known story of the witch of
Endor, in which the spirit of Samuel is represented as
appearing to the witch, and delivering a discourse for the
benefit of king Saul. (1. Sam. xxxvii.) There is the
statement that at the crucifixion of Jesus, many of “ the
Saints which slept arose. . . . and appeared unto many.”
(Matt, xxvii. 52-53.) There is the story of the “Trans
figuration,” in which Moses and Elias, dead for hundreds
of years, appeared to the disciples; (xvii. &c.) the con
version of Paul, in which Jesus himself, sometime dead,
addressed Paul in an audible voice from heaven, (in the
words of a Greek Play ;*) (Acts ix. 4-6.) and the
summoning back of the spirit of Lazarus to his body.
(John xi. 25-43, &c.) There is the parable of the rich
man in torment conversing with the spirit of Abraham
in bliss, begging, with curious confusion between spirit
and matter, that the spirit of Lazarus might be permitted
* The Bacchae of Euripides.
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to “ dip the tip of his finger in water ” and cool the rich
man’s tongue : or, in case the alleviation of suffering
were not among the functions of the blessed, that the
spirit of Lazarus might be sent back to earth to convert
the five living brethren of the rich man; which last
request-was refused, not as the first was on the ground of
its impossibility, but as superfluous and useless. (Luke
xvi. 22, &c.). We read, too, of guardian angels, (Matt,
iv. 4.) and “ministering spirits;" (Heb. i. 14.) and of
a whole apparatus of intermediate intelligences existing
between God and man. In the Acts we find certain
pious Pharisees exclaiming of Paul, “ if an angel or
spirit hath spoken to him, let us not fight against God.” ♦
(xxiii. 9.) John tells us to “ believe not every spirit, but
try the spirits whether they be of God.” (1 John iv. 1.)
Job, in thrilling language, describes a spirit as passing
before his face and pausing to speak to him. (iv. 15, &c.)
The practice of necromancy is forbidden in Deuteronomy,
(xviii. 2.) its reality not being called in question; (though
how the Jews reconciled it with their denial of the after
life, does not appear.) The Gospels repeatedly refer to
cases of possession by spirits, without specifying their
nature or origin; and in Smith’s Dictionary of the Bible,
the fact of apparitions of the dead is regarded as being,
for the Bible, past a doubt.
S.uch, on this point, are the tenets of the book which
it is an article of faith with the very people whose law
was invoked in the case of “Lyon versus Home,” im
plicitly to believe. And yet, so far from any proof
being required of the falsity of the defendant’s pretences,
they were at once assumed to be an utter and monstrous
imposition; and the defence was laughed out of court,
in face of the contents of the very book upon which the
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witnesses in it had been sworn : the book upon which
our Religion is “ by law established
and for the sake
of inculcating which as infallible, we insist upon vitiating
or crippling our whole system of National Education !
To these illustrations of the growing divorce between
ancient credulity and modem Belief must be added that
of Witchcraft; concerning the belief in which John
Wesley said that “The Bible and Witchcraft must stand
or fall together.” While the anger excited among us by
the devout utterances of the Prussian king over his late
successes, may be ascribed in some degree to the fact
that we are learning to repudiate the old notions which,
recognising success as the test of merit, make Divine
Providence the arbiter in human quarrels ; and in some
degree to the consciousness of having ourselves been
such eminent practisers in the same pietistic line as to
make king William’s conduct look very much as if meant
for a caricature of our own.
Having paid some attention to the recent sittings of
the Church Assemblies in Edinburgh, I have been pleased
to observe symptoms of a growing respect for the authority
of the Intellect and the Conscience in regard to matters of
Eaith, north of the Tweed. I have read that one clergy
man declared his belief that the sacrifice of Christ was
an atonement of sufficient value to counterbalance the
misdeeds of Satan himself, and justify the Almighty in
pardoning the Arch-fiend; and that another “ elder ”
valued the character of the Deity so highly “that his hair
stood on end at the notion that God could ever be re
conciled to the devil.” I take it as a hopeful sign that
these two theologians should thus renounce all claim to
judge such questions by the old dogmatic standards, and
appeal instead to their own moral sense. They have only
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to carry the process somewhat further to perceive that the
God who could create such a being as the devil at dll, or
who could require to be propitiated towards his own off
spring by such a sacrifice as that of Christ at dll, is no
God worthy of being acknowledged or revered by any
being possessed of a spark of intelligence or independence
of spirit.
Lord Chesterfield once wrote to a friend, “Both
Shaftesbury and I have been- dead for several years; but
we don’t wish the fact to be generally known.” In the
same way very much of the Bible has been dead for
some time. It still exists, but is outliving its influence
for evil; and there are many who fancy themselves in
terested in keeping the fact from being generally known.
Yet that it is no chimera which I am encountering,
has just been powerfully illustrated by a discussion in
the House of Lords * in relation to University Tests;
wherein it was declared, both by Lord Houghton and by
the Marquis of Salisbury, that “ the immense majority
of the people of this country adhere to the authority and
teaching of the Bible; their reverence for it being so
absolute that any person who avows hostility to its
doctrines is disabled, not only from holding any office
connected with moral and religious teaching, but almost
from any political office. And that no one can appear at
the hustings with any chance of success, and announce
that he does not accept the Bible.”
XIX.
Sir John Coleridge was right when he said that this
Bible question promised shortly to become the great
* (Debate of May 11th 1871.)
�and Modern Education.
95
religious question of the time. It is so; not for the
reason he then anticipated, hut because the Bible, or
rather the popular theory about the Bible, stops the way
to our advance in all that favours the redemption, or
constitutes the highest good, of a people.
By reason of this one impediment our whole system
of national education “ hangs fire; ” while our systems
of private education are neutralised or vitiated. It is
therefore for those who are under no obligation to refrain
from using their reasoning faculties; those who decline
allegiance to any dispensation which imposes a penalty
for putting forth a hand to .sustain and forward that
which they regard as the Ark of their country’s redemp
tion ; (1 Chron. xiii. 9, &c.) those who believe that it is
only through man working together freely and intelli
gently with man towards the highest moral ends, that
real good is to be done;—it is for these, I say, to grapple
with the difficulty, and if need be, to take the place of
those who have hitherto been our teachers. If we are
no longer to regard the Bible as a Fetich, to be adored,
but not comprehended; if wfe are not to adopt as an
article of Faith the suggestion of the flippant Frenchman,
that the God of the Jewish Scriptures and of our own
advanced intelligence and moral sense, is in reality one
and the self-same Being ;■—that he was once as bad as
the Jews made him out to be, but has improved with
age and experience, (a suggestion I have lately heard
seriously propounded by a clergyman in despair at the diffi
culties he found in the Bible)—then the solution which
has now been proposed must be accepted by us: other
wise the intellect and the conscience must be rejected
altogether as illusory and inventions of the devil; and
some other criterion, and one which discards both
�96
yewish Literature
intellect and conscience, must be sought for to regulate
our judgment.
For my part, I think better of my countrymen than
to believe that when once the truth is put plainly before
them, they will long halt between the two opinions. I
believe that when once the alternative is shown to them
to lie between gross superstition and a rational religious
ness,—they will no longer endure that their faith be only
definable as believing what they know to be untrue; but will
insist on their children being trained to subject all
things to the test of a cultivated intelligence and moral
sense. Thus trained, they will peruse the Bible, no
longer as slaves, but in a spirit of intelligent appreciation,
sifting out the germs of truth for themselves, and not
scoffing at or rejecting the whole on account of the husks.
From henceforth the teacher in the schools of the
nation must never forget that it is the purpose of his
schoolroom to be the training-ground, not of any party or
sect, but whereon to develop the faculties which later in
life are to determine the nature of individual belief. To
impart a bias, or to anticipate or prevent the formation
of genuine, honest opinion, by the early instilment of
dogma, is at once to stultify every principle of sound
education, inasmuch as it is to repress the intellect and
contravene the moral sense. Whatever the views which
may be adopted in mature age by those who have been
educated under the system I am advocating, there will
be no cause to fear that they will be the' worse for being'
founded in an intelligence and moral sense which have
been thus rigidly trained in youth.
Shall it be said of our solution as was said by one
upon first beholding the sea, “ Is this the mighty ocean, •
�and Modern Education.
97
is this all ? ”
“ Yes,” we may confidently reply, in
respect to our reliance upon the intellect and the con
science developed by rational education, “ these are all.”
At first, indeed, you see from the margin but a small part
of them. But only trust yourself to them: launch boldly
out upon them: sail where you will with them, and they
will bear you safely through the whole universe of
being.”
At present, for us in England, the issue lies with our
School-boards. If their members are themselves ignorant
of the simple law of human development in religious
ideas, or are unworthily complacent to the ignorance and
superstition of their constituents, generations may pass
before the standard of education and religion is brought
up to the standard of modern thought and knowledge.
Generations may pass and the Bible will still be found
the subject of hopeless contention, and source of fatal
disunion and weakness. And generations long here
after will find the country sunk deeper and deeper in
ignorance and barbarism; while the nations which have
sprung from our race, and speak our language, will have
passed so far ahead of us that they can only look back
upon “ poor England” with pity and contempt as an effete
and imbecile land, “ whose prophets prophesied falsely,
whose priests bore rule by their means, and whose people
loved to have it so.”
TURNBULL AND SPEARS, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.
�
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Jewish literature and modern education, or: the use and misuse of the Bible in the schoolroom, being two lectures delivered before the Sunday Lecture Society, March 26th and April 2d 1871
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Place of publication: Ramsgate
Collation: 97, [1, 3] p. ; 18 cm.
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Thomas Scott
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Education
Judaism
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Bible
Judaism
Religious Education
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KINDER GARTEN TRAINING.
A PAPER
BEAD AT THE SOCIAL SCIENCE CONGBESS,
AT
GLASGOW, 1874..
BY
E. A. MANNING.
LONDON:
EDWARD STANFORD* 6, 7, & 8, CHARING CROSS, S.W.
■
1874.
Price Sixpence.
��KINDER GARTEN TRAINING.
In the last few years the Kinder Garten system of
training infants, invented by Frobel, has been
noticed and studied by many who are interested
in practical education. Introduced into England
more than twenty-five years ago, this method at
first attracted little attention; but now Frobel’s
idea in its beauty and harmony has taken strong
hold of many minds, and the value of his plans,
which are so skilfully adapted to children’s tenden
cies, is gradually being more and more recognised.
Private Kinder Gartens are springing up in various
places; school boards begin to establish them
as a preparation for the elementary course; while
in Manchester there is already a training school
for teachers. In Frobel’s own country, the number
of Kinder Gartens has increased to five hundred.
Some of his pupils (among them the Baroness Marenholtz-Bulow) have devoted themselves zealously to
their establishment; and from Germany teachers
have been sent to Italy, where the system has great
success. In Belgium, France, and Russia, children
are being brought under this influence. In the
United States, greatly through the exertions of Miss
Peabody, Kinder Gartens are becoming numerous.
B
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Many good G-uides too have been published, the
result of actual experience in teaching, the best of
which are by Wiebe, Kohler, Goldammer, Octavie
de Masson and Madame Ronge ; and Miss Peabody
edits a little monthly magazine, called the 4 Kinder
Garten Messenger.’*
But, notwithstanding this progress, we still hear
it asked what Kinder Gartens are; and even those
who are familiar with the occupations and games
often do not well understand Frobel’s leading ideas.
The principle of his system seems still to be too
much in the background, whereas it is just that
which ought to be entered into, if we wish to judge
fairly of the merits of his plans. In this paper,
then, I shall first explain Frobel’s principle, in doing
which I shall have to say a little about himself;
and secondly, I shall describe the practical system
of training which he invented in accordance with
that principle.
I. Frobel’s fundamental idea of education was
that it consists in securing a gradual and harmo
nious development of the child’s nature. And how
is this to be obtained ? His answer is, “ Not by a
routine course of school lessons, but by the pleasur
able, well-directed exercise of its various faculties.”
He saw that children are growing and learning,
even if they are not sent to school. But he did
1 This magazine can be procured in England by communicating with
Miss Snell, 17, Strawberry Bank, Pendleton, Manchester.
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not wish them to be left to themselves. He saw
also that the help of experienced minds is needed,
in order to guide and train all this natural action.
The work of teachers, therefore, lies first in observing
children’s own efforts, and next in directing those
efforts to good and sure results. Self-education
thus assisted, and thus only, leads to the desired
end—the free and full development of the physical,
mental, and moral nature. Frobel was not the
first to assert these views about education, and
he shared them with Pestalozzi and others of his
time; but being deeply impressed with them, he,
like Pestalozzi, spent a great part of his life in
carrying them into practice. The son of a country
pastor in Thiiringen, he tried several kinds of em
ployment, till the decided bent of his mind towards
teaching induced him to help in a school at Frank
fort, and afterwards he collected some village boys
not far from his early home, with the desire of
training them to lead good and useful lives. He
had not then thought of Kinder Gartens, but he
conducted his school on the principle that I have
stated, viz. that true education is simply the careful
guidance of natural growth.
After some years, Frobel, having fully taken
hold of this principle of aided self-development,
began to consider whether it could not be acted on
before the usual school age. He became convinced
that the first few years of a child’s life are alb
b
2
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important, as laying the foundation of health and
disease, giving the direction to its mental habits,
and moulding its tempers, dispositions, and tastes.
In dealing with his boy-pupils, he was led to see
that he might have had far more success with them
if they had not been comparatively neglected up
to seven years old. Like Pestalozzi, he had the
highest appreciation of early home-training, and
he had no desire to set infants to tasks. But it
occurred to him that if the education which they
were joyously giving themselves could be gently
and kindly guided by a teacher, under suitable
conditions, and with the advantage of companion
ship, mind and body might be brought into a good
state of preparation for the studies and the duties of
after years. Thus he arrived at the idea of Kinder
Gartens.
It is easy to see how naturally the name Kinder
Garten was adopted by Frobel. In all his thoughts
on education the illustration constantly present to
his mind was that of the growth of plants. He used
to say, “ The tree is my teacherand he held the
work of the gardener to be very similar to that of
the educator. In an often-quoted passage he ex
presses himself thus : “ As the farmer and gardener
treat their seeds in accordance with Nature, and in
harmony with her laws, so we should educate the
child and man according to their being, according
to the inherent laws of life, in harmony and unity
�(
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with Nature and with the Supreme Being, Source of
all life.” The gardener imparts no force, establishes
no laws, but after making himself acquainted with
the nature of the plants under his care, secures for
them, by his watchful toil, plenty of light, air, water,
and space, sure that the leaves, flowers, and fruit
will appear in due time. And so, in the case of
children, the teacher first acquires a true ideal of
what they may become, and afterwards simply
gives scope for the quickening and strengthening
of their varied capacities. When then Frobel had
planned a training place for infants, he called it a
childrens garden, expressing thus his educational
principle, and conveying a beautiful idea of the
kind of influences to be exerted there, such influ
ences as may reasonably be compared to the sun
shine, rain, and good soil by means of which plants
thrive and grow. I may add that no forcing is con
sistent with his system. Open-air gardening he
accepted as a comparison, but not the artificial
methods which promote rapid results; for he knew
that all healthy development is slow.
But Frobel would have certainly failed in his
practical schemes if he had not thoroughly under
stood children, and one cannot help being struck
with the wholeness of his view as to their nature.
He seems to leave out no characteristic—to forget
no latent power. The child that he already trains
in imagination is just the merry, happy, bright,
�<
6
)
inventive, active, loving child that everyone de
lights to see. Himself of an affectionate disposition,
he could sympathize with the desires and interests
of the youngest minds; and when he was forming
his plans of training, he used to mix much with
little children, noticing their ways with one another,
and the ways with them of their mothers and nurses.
And besides kindness and simplicity of heart, he
brought to bear on the subject of education a keen
and philosophic mind. He observed not only
children, but men and nations too; and he found
that facts in individual growth were confirmed by
facts in the more extended growth of communities.
He thought deeply on all human relations and
duties, seeking everywhere for unity in variety,
and for harmony through obedience to Divine laws.
Gentle, thoughtful, poetical, and religious-minded,
he was well qualified to show how children should
be prepared for life, and I think it is rare to meet
with anyone who, as fully as he did, realized all
their characteristics.
What did he find those characteristics to be ? I
will shortly enumerate the chief of them. 1. An
unceasing bodily activity, which leads children to
jump, run, climb, tumble, and scramble about—the
natural means of promoting physical growth. 2. An
inquisitive faculty of observation, impelling them to
investigate the world in which they are come to live,
with the untiring energy of African explorers; and
Frobel saw that they do this in a most practical
�(
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)
manner, mainly by feeling and handling the objects
of their attention. 3. Constructiveness-, the fond
ness for making things, whether mud-pies, boats, or
dolls’ clothes. ‘ 4. A love of the beautiful, shown
in a susceptibility to the influence of harmony in
sound, form, and colour, and of all external nature.
5. The social tendency ; the delight of having com
panions, and of being sympathized with in their
joys and troubles.
6. A constant playfulness,
evinced by the glee and enthusiasm which animate
their hourly life. Frobel dwelt much on this point;
for he felt that play (by which, however, he did not
mean aimless play) is the congenial atmosphere of a
little child. 7. A growing moral nature—passions,
affections, and conscience, which need to be con
trolled, responded to, and cultivated. Here then
are seven distinctive characteristics, common in
varying degrees to all children, and it was these
that Frotel determined to try to develop.
I have now described the foundation on which
Frobel built his Kinder Garten teaching, viz. the
principle that true education consists in the judicious
guidance of self-education; and I have shown, too,
that he desired to apply this principle to the train
ing of very young children, and that his acquintance
with a child’s nature was remarkably full and com
plete.
II. Secondly, I will briefly describe Frobel’s prac
tical plans, which have already been so widely
adopted.
�(
8
)
1. .The Gifts. Impressed with the idea that a
little child must begin to learn through the handling
of objects, and also through play, he arranged a
series of toys which he called gifts. These are as
different as possible from the dazzling mechanisms
that attract children to the windows of toy-shops.
Frobel studiously avoided recommending toys which,
being finished off, leave no room for the exercise of
fancy. I think he would have sighed over the Christ
mas and birthday presents that are now showered
upon children. But modest as his gifts are in appear
ance, they have an endless capability for giving enjoy-,
ment, and enjoyment of a higher kind than the gay
little omnibus, or the talking French doll. Children’s
eyes glisten with pleasure when they are allowed
to play with them, and the teacher, by their use,
stimulates the observing and inventive powers, and
conveys the rudiments of arithmetic and geometry.
There is a regular gradation in the gifts, most care
fully thought out by Frobel, by means of which
each dawning faculty is provided for, and the child
is led from the most elementary ideas to the more
abstract and complicated. The first gift is a coloured
worsted ball. Being apparently full of life, a ball
is a real companion for an infant. It not only
amuses it, and helps to teach command of limbs and
muscles, but it supplies the groundwork of first
lessons about colour and substance. Very pretty
symmetrical games can be played with this gift, to
�(
9
)
music or counting ; as, for instance, by placing the
children in a circle, and letting them pass the balls
from one to another, the arms being raised and
lowered alternately. The second gift consists of a
plain wooden ball or sphere, a cube, and a cylinder.
The child is now led to observe new forms, and
becomes familiar with corners, sides, edges, and
angles. The third and fourth gifts are again in
advance. Each is a cube, divided in the one case
into eight smaller cubes, in the other into eight
parallelograms. Frobel planned three modes of use
for these blocks and bricks: making forms of daily
life, such as a chair, a tower, a column, &c.; making
forms of beauty—flat shapes which in a simple and
striking way can be evolved out of one another (in
one of the Kinder Garten Guides as many as eighty
of these are given)—and using them for lessons
about number. The fifth and sixth gifts are further
subdivided, and are therefore available for more
elaborate erections and figures. They also lead to
higher arithmetical and mathematical teaching.
Sometimes all the sets of bricks are used together,
so that bridges, houses, railroads, &c., can be formed.
The children are in every way encouraged to exercise
their own invention, and the teacher talks to them
familiarly about the objects represented.
2. The Occupations. The value of these is proved
by the great delight that they afford, the ingenuity
that they call forth, and the habits of industry that
�(
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they encourage. Everyone who has visited a Kinder
Garten when the occupations were going on, must
have remarked the- zest of the children, and their
proud surprise at the results of their own perse
verance. I can only name them, without indicating
the clever way in which they also lead up to one
another. The first is stick-laying, that is, making
outline forms with tiny sticks; then drawing, which
begins with the representation of these outlines on
a slate, and goes on to the copying of the forms of
printed letters and of natural objects. Pea-work;
uniting the sticks by means of softened peas, so as
to make little articles of furniture, as well as mathe
matical figures. Paper-folding, by which a succes
sion of objects are formed out of a sheet of paper.
Paper-cutting; a few symmetrical cuts when the
paper has been folded into a triangle, giving an
astonishing variety of results. Perforating of card
board, the designs when finished being worked by
the children with worsted. Mat-making; the inter
weaving of coloured strips of paper so as to make
little mats. Lastly, Modelling in clay. This begins
with the simplest forms, but by degrees the children
learn to imitate nature, and they often show great
skill in these early attempts at sculpture. The occu
pations not only satisfy the desire to make something,
but they develop the artistic faculty. As Frobel
looked in the child for the germ of every capacity of
the grown man, he did not fail to give scope for the
�(
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)
expression of ideas through creations of fancy. He
stands perhaps alone in attempting the cultivation
of art-power in very young children. I may mention
here that he made a great point of accustoming
children to express themselves in clear tones, and
in language closely fitted to their thought, and also
that reading is taught in Kinder Gartens by a natural
method, which avoids the labour of spelling. The
power of accurate observation gained by so much
familiarity with form, makes a child attain the art
of reading with singular ease and rapidity.
3. Another part of the training consists in laying
the basis of Scientific Knowledge. The child’s atten
tion is drawn to objects. He is led to distinguish their
likenesses and their differences, according to the Pestalozzian method, and thus he acquires the elements
of geography, physics, and natural history. Frobel
would not allow such teaching to be given in a dry
manner. He wished a garden to be attached to
every one of these schools, that the children might
study for themselves the nature of plants, and he liked
them to live as much as possible in the open air, and
to have the care of flowers and of animals. In the
lessons, the teacher chooses subjects connected with
the children’s daily experience, and has recourse to
pictures and anecdotes. Science, while unimpaired
as to accuracy, is conveyed through the medium of
poetry and affection. For the knowledge is imparted
in order to satisfy the child’s eager wish to be at
�(
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)
home in nature, and to take his rightful place in
relation to the outer world.
4. Music was much relied on by Frobel, for he
had a profound belief in its beneficial influence. He
remarked that the youngest children have a tendency
to express themselves in singing, and he was aware
of the almost magical effect on their moral nature of
melodious sounds. He therefore introduced music,
with or without words, in every available way into
his system. As harmony was his constant end and
aim, no wonder that the harmony of sound had a
special attraction for him.
5. Again, the Games are very prominent in a
Kinder Garten. These are of a dramatic kind,
tending to remind children of phases of life and of
the ways of animals, and being performed by a
large number, and in rhythmic order, their effect is
animating and harmonizing. As an example, I will
describe the game called “ The Pigeon-house.”
Three-fourths of the children place themselves in a
circle round the others, who represent the pigeons.
Those outside begin to sing-T
“We open the pigeon-house again,
And. set the merry flutt’rers free ”—
at the same time enlarging the circle, and raising
hands and arms, so as to allow the pigeons to
escape. The pigeon-children run out, imitating the
flapping of birds’ wings, and the song continues—
“ They fly on the fields and grassy plain,
Delighted with joyous liberty.”
�(
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After a while, the circle goes on to sing—
“ And when they return from their merry flight,
We shut up the house, and bid them ‘good-night.’”
At once the pigeons run back, pass under the raised
arms of the circle, and are closed in again. Other
plays are “ The Peasant,” “ The Windmill,” “ The
Bees,” &c. It is quite inspiriting to see the mer
riment caused by these games. The children’s
imagination is pleased; their limbs are healthily
and gracefully exercised; they are exhilarated by
companionship; and they learn to realize the value
of combination for the production of results.
6. There is one more point that I must refer to.
It is the moral training that a Kinder Garten
supplies. The teacher aims indirectly at placing a
moral standard before the children’s minds, by the
tone she gives to all the lessons, and through
biographies, fables, songs, and stories, illustrative of
right and wrong. But, besides this, she watches
and guides their conduct. Owing to the freedom of
action encouraged, and the social life that the
presence of numbers gives, there is plenty of scope
for the growth of character; and the teacher, whose
approbation, if she is loved by her pupils, is earnestly
desired, has it in her power continually to promote
unselfishness, and to check cross and angry disposi
tions. The occupations induce perseverance and
correct idleness; in the games the children learn to
give up to others; patience, self-control, and a love
�of order are imbibed; it becomes a habit to respect
the rights of others; the affections are drawn out;
and cheerful obedience is accepted as the rule of
life. If in a word or two one had to describe the
moral effect of a Kinder Garten, one might say that
the child learns there the great lesson that it forms
a part of a social whole. Each has its little niche
in the building—its small, but definite, share of
duty, which, if it omits to perform, all the others
suffer. Thus, for the sake of its companions, it
represses its hasty words and its violent tempers,
and tries to help towards the general advantage.
It is caught up, as it were, into some degree of
understanding of its religious and moral relations,
and the aim set before it is not only not to be
naughty, but to be positively good.
In these ways Frobel adapted his practice to
the several characteristics of children which I have
already enumerated—to their activity, observingness,
constructiveness, love of art, sociability, playfulness,
and their moral nature. Other occupations and
other methods of teaching may, as experience
-increases, be added to his, but while there is no
reason to follow his plans slavishly, I think it will
not be found easy to improve upon them. Of course,
it depends mainly on the teacher whether a Kinder
Garten accomplishes its true intention, and some of
the objections that one occasionally hears raised
against the system apply, I believe, to the many
�(
15
)
imperfect realizations that unfortunately exist.
The important thing is that a teacher should be
thoroughly imbued with Frobel’s principle. No
doubt she requires special training in the use of the
gifts, and in the games and occupations, &c. But
she will have studied them to little avail if she
treats them as unrelated mechanical arts, instead
of as helps to the carrying out of a whole ideal.
For Frobel’s system is, after all, not a system. It
is life acting on life. It is the calling forth of the
emotions, the intellect, the physical powers, and the
conscience by one in whom all good faculties are
already developed. The teacher must keep her
principles constantly in view, and must test every
portion of her practice by its conformity to that
principle. Through a wise and loving influence she
must prepare her impressible little pupils for further
progress, and if she has trained them as Frobel
meant them to be trained, they will begin their
school life with a happy and regulated consciousness
of possessing force—physical, intellectual, and
moral.
In order to show that these results may be and
are actually obtained, I will quote the recent testi
mony of an elementary schoolmistress, in America,
who receives children at the end of their Kinder
Garten course. She wrote:—“ A child, of no extra
ordinary gifts, who had been in Miss Kriege’s
Kinder Garten two years, came to me at seven, and
�(
16
)
easily passed through all the three grades of the
primary school in one year, because all his habits of
mind were so well formed, and he had been taught
both how to behave and how to learn.”
In conclusion, I would express a hope not only
that Kinder Gartens will become more and more
numerous, but also that Frobel’s principle will be
recognised to a greater extent than it is at present,
in the later stages of education.
E. A. Manning.
<
V*
Since this paper was prepared, I am glad to find
that the British and Foreign School Society have
engaged the help of an experienced German lady,
Miss Heerwart, a pupil of Frobel’s intimate friend
and colleague, Middendorff, > in order to organize a
course of Kinder Garten instruction for the students
of Stockwell College. Until the present want of
trained English teachers is supplied, it is impos
sible that the system can make much progress; but
as soon as it is introduced, in a thorough manner,
into training institutions, we may hope that children
of all classes will share those advantages of develop
ment which must ever be associated with the name
of Friedrich Frobel.
���
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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Kinder garten training: a paper read at the Social Science Congress at Glasgow, 1874
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Manning, E.A.
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Collation: 16 p. ; 22 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. Discusses the work of educator Friedrich Frobel who created the concept of 'kindergarten'.
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Edward Stanford
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1874
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Education
Child rearing
Conway Tracts
Education
Friedrich Frobel
Kindergartens
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“Religious Education.”
A LETTER TO
CARDINAL MANNING.
PART I.
BY
London :
W. STEWART & Co., 41, FARRINGDON St., E.C.
��6 JO 7/
KT555
“Religious Education.”
May it Please Your Eminence,—I have read in the
Newcastle Daily Chronicle the report of your sermon,
delivered at St. Mary’s Cathedral, Newcastle-upon-Tyne,
on Saturday, September 26th, 1885. From your interest
ing biography, venerable age, and exalted position in the
Romish Church, your utterances challenge criticism.
Whether they challenge criticism from any intrinsic con
siderations I leave your readers and mine to decide.
Recognising that you and I respectively stand at the
very antagonising poles of modern tendency and thought,
I will make an effort to come within touch of you, in order
to, as far as possible, realise your position before I assail it.
Your attitude I recognise to be a complete anachronism:
it belongs to the time when Rufus founded a castle on
the banks of the Tyne, not to the generation in which
Stephenson spanned that river with an iron bridge.
Your Eminence lays stress upon the special solicitud(e
heaven took in children, although only the children of
Jews, before the Christian dispensation, and then you
exclaim:—
How much more, then, are yours—your children that are born
again by water and the Holy Ghost, and are made children of God
in a higher sense than the children of Israel—members of Christ,
heirs of the eternal heirship of the Son of God, of the kingdom of
heaven ?
Am I to infer from the hackneyed and half-meaningless
pulpit jargon of this passage that God likes Jew children
well, but Christian children better ? I have been told
by God, on the authority of his own book, that he is
“ no respecter of personsbut you apparently know
better. Has the unchangeable God changed his mind
and given your Eminence the advantage of a private
revelation, prefaced by : “ Don’t mind my old book : I
�4
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. ’
am a much older and wiser God than I was when I wrote
that”? My children, your Eminence, are neither Jewish
nor Christian : perhaps you would be courteous enough
to say how he regards them. If there be a God who,
on account of the faith of its parents, would even com
paratively disfavour (as you allege he does) an innocent
child, I am glad I am only an Agnostic, and cannot,
by searching, find out such a God ; for, were I a Theist,
and could find him out, I should denounce him as a
malignant fiend and curse him to his face. Thrust aside
your theological tantrums for a moment, Cardinal Man
ning, and tell me if you are not ashamed of this mean
little godling you worship, who, before'he determines to
what degree he will love an innocent baby, takes into
consideration whether its parents are Jewish or Christian.
One of the reasons you allege why God loves the
Christian baby more than the Jewish one is, that the
former is “ born again by water and the Holy Ghost.”
Pray be good enough to step down for a moment from
your ranting theological perch to the firm ground of
common sense, and tell me, in the name of all that is
explicable, what this means. “ Born again by water and
the Holy Ghost” ! You know as well as I do that this
expression is as utterly nonsensical as if your Eminence
had said : “ Born again of a paving-stone and of the
fire-shovel.” Your dupes ask you for bread, and you
give them a stone; they ask for an idea, and you give
them words. Your Church conducts much of its service
in Latin, to impose upon the ignorant and keep them
ignorant; and your priesthood take care that their English
is as unintelligible as their Latin, the threadbare and labo
riously nonsensical platitudes of pontifical jargon. The
“fools and blind ” are awed by the presentiment that some
fearfully significant and mysterious meaning underlies
your priestly babblement. “Born again by water”!
Such jargon, instead of exciting reverent piety with those
with whom you have to cope now-a-days, evokes only
the irreverent contempt which asks : Do you refer to
parturition in a punt on the river, or to an accouchement
down in a diving-bell ? And as for your exceedingly
phantasmal Holy Ghost, will you tell me anything he
ever did, except his being mixed up with an affiliation
�“ RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
5
case under remarkably shady circumstances, appearing
once in the guise of a dove or fantail pigeon, and once
again in the shape of “ cloven tongues as of firewhile
appearing as Paysandu tongues, at 9d. a lb., would have
been more to the purpose ? Is this scurrilous blasphemy?
So be it. It is our contemptuous reply to divine thimble
rigging. Give us arguments to deal with, and wre will
deal with them ; but insult our reason with the hackneyed
and vapid platitudes of professional priestcraft, and our
sneer and our sarcasm will give you to understand what
we think of them and you.
Your Eminence assures us that, as regards children—
They have an invisible guardian—an angel ever watching over
them.
Here, your Eminence, you have effectively curbed my
irreverent levity. To talk, as you do, of an “invisible
guardian ” watching over every child is too sinister and
solemn a mockery for flippant refutation. You are
double my age, Lord Cardinal. Have you not seen
children as I have seen them ? Do you speak in igno
rance, or do you speak in truculent and terrible jest ?
Have you seen the child, partially born, have its skull
crushed in in splinters upon its brain by iron forceps,
as the solution of the desperate alternative whether the
life of the mother or that of the child should be saved?
Where was the “invisible guardian’? Have you seen
the child born mutilated and covered with ulcers, fearful
heirloom from the sins and sorrows of its progenitors ?
Where was the “ invisible guardian ” ? Have you seen
the babe, with sunken eyes and ravenous lip, and the
haggard look that babyhood should never know, tug at
the milkless nipples of a-starving mother ? Where is the
“invisible guardian?” Have you seen that haggard
baby dead and shrouded in a newspaper, as I have seen
it, and smuggled surreptitiously into the coffin of an
adult pauper, and buried with him to save expense ?
Where was the “ invisible guardian ” ? That baby was
so buried in its newspaper cerements because its mother,
who followed it to the grave, through want, would not
stoop to prostitution, even to save its life and her own.
Where was the “ invisible guardian ” ? Have you seen,
�6
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
as I have seen, the child born in “ holy wedlock,” but with
the prostitution of its mother resorted to in order to save
its life and hers ; and have you seen that babe, as I have
seen it, drain from its mother’s breast the syphilitic virus
till the cartilege of the baby nose and the scalp on the
baby skull rotted away, and the innocent infant was
putrescent before it reached the tomb ? Where was the
“ invisible guardian ” ? Have you seen the prepossessing
female child fed and nurtured by its own parents, to be
sold to the lecher—incipient human flesh exposed on the
shambles of lust, and knocked down to the highest
bidder? Where was the “ invisible guardian ” ?
I could go on with interrogations like these, your
Eminence, mounting step after step in the terrible climax;
for I, who write to you, am a man who have turned from
the study of Greek to study the fearful moods and tenses
of the streets ; and I have left Hebrew that I might
study the square characters of the alleys and the Massorah of the slums. The hand that holds the pen that
now writes to you has lain upon the pulse of the world,
and felt all the irregular throbbings of the heart of
Humanity.
The eye that glances upon the paper
upon which this missive is written has, for God, gazed
through the clouds of the esoteric till it has been com
pelled to look down in Agnosticism, dimmed and blinded,
outside the unopening gates of Mystery. I have seen
falsehood on the throne, and truth on the scaffold; but
I have never traced, and neither have you, the action of
the “invisible guardian.”
In pleading for the support of schools in which the
Romish faith may continue to be inculcated, your
Eminence remarks:—
And, lastly, some of you, perhaps, may remember the schools of
this parish when you make your last will and testament, and your
Lord’s name will be found among the names of your heirs.
Did your Eminence so far master your risible tendencies
as to look sufficiently solemn for your sacred calling when
you uttered these words ? Cicero opines that two augurs
could not meet without laughing in each other’s faces,
in tacit recognition of how they managed to gull the
populace. When you spoke of Catholics executing their
�RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. »
7
wills, and making Jesus Christ one of their heirs, did
you, internally, put your divine thumb to your sacred
nose and extend your holy fingers? You well know
that Jesus Christ—whether that half-mythical character
ever really existed or not—wants none of your filthy lucre.
You use his name as the shears with which to shear the
sheep, that the fleece may come to the priests. This
lending money to the Lord in celestial debentures is a
very old confidence trick and financial swindle, Cardinal
Manning. The swindle has never been a farthing in the
pocket of “ the Lord,” whatever and whoever he may
be ; but it has, for centuries, swelled the coffers of a fat,
lazy, and licentious priesthood. For how many dreary
and black ages the priest of your baleful creed has
attended at the bedside of the dying man and indemni
fied the expiring wretch against the red fire of hell in
consideration of the Church receiving the red sheen of
his gold ! Is the palpable imposition not yet played
out ? How long, O Lord, how long, will the mothers of
our race only bear and suckle fools ?
Your Eminence goes on to say :—
I would fain much rather speak upon the Sermon on the Mount,
or upon the useful history of the gospel we have read to-day, than
upon the matter on which I may say necessity compels us at this
time to think with all the energy of our hearts—I mean the state
and condition of the education of this country, the peril that is
before us, the unconsciousness of that peril; and that peril multi
plied by the fact that men are not roused up or awakened to see
what is certain and inevitable in the future. Let us, then, con
sider this. From the seventh century down to the present the
education of the people of this land was a Christian education.
The Christianity of England was perpetuated by that which made
England in the beginning. At this moment we have come to what
I may call a deviation from that sacred tradition, which, until now,
has sustained the Christianity of the people of this land. Some
men will call it a new departure. It is the language of the day ;
and it is a useful phrase for us for it is a departure—a striking off
from the tradition, the broad highway of the people, of Christian
England. And we are threatened at this time with a system of
education neither Christian nor English, but borrowed from the
vain and shallow theories of the first French Revolution—that is to
say, a State education without definite teaching, and, therefore—I
will say it boldly—Christianity. Down to fifteen years ago the
education of this land was in the hands of the parents of children
and those whom they spontaneously and voluntarily chose. For
the last fifteen years the State has claimed the children as its own,
�RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
and the State has claimed to be the educator of the children born
within its boundaries. These two principles are the principles of
the old Greek philosophy of the Platonic Republic, revived at the
end of the last century, as I have said, by the vainglorious and
superficial minds who wrecked the noble and Christian people of
France. And these two principles are establishing themselves in
the minds of the people of this country.
I quite credit your Eminence when you allege that you
would much rather dilate upon the “ Sermon on the
Mount ” than comment upon the, to you, extremely
painful fact of the education of the children of this
generation passing out of the hands of your Church, and,
indeed, out of the hands of Christianity. The “ Sermon
on the Mount,” with its cruel mockery and fiendish
sarcasm of '‘'■Blessed be ye poor,” is, possibly, the source
from which you have drawn your terrible trope anent the
“ invisible guardian ” which stands in watch and ward
over every child. But be assured, my Lord Cardinal,
that men are “ roused up or awakened to see what is
certain and inevitable in the future.” They see as clearly
as you do that the “ inevitable ” is that your Church is
doomed ; but they anticipate its dissolution and ruin with
equanimity, where they do not contemplate it with satis
faction. You, most reverend father, and your caste, have
lived upon the base craft of the priest and ascended on
the wings of sacerdotalism to the high places of the
earth; but those who do not belong to your craft have
had to maintain you, and they begin to find out that they
have been gulled too long by your wheedling them to
endure a hell upon earth on the promise that they will
have wings and glory in the skies. They are beginning
to discover that they know as much about the wings and
glory as you do, and find that they are so extremely
problematical that they have resolved to make the best
and the happiest of Here and Now, leaving the wings and
the glory to take care of themselves. They have resolved
that their children shall be taught Reading and Writing
and Arithmetic, and, where practicable, the “ Extra
Subjects and they have freely permitted themselves to
be rated for this purpose, and have practically told you
and yours to stand aside with your Gospels and your
“ Sermon on the Mount,” and let them have a little more
bread and intelligence here, and not stultify them any
�“religious education.”
9
longer with your child-bearing Virgin, your crucified
joiner, and your other monstrous, but to you profitable,
“ teachings ” upon which your poor dupes are to depend
for their wings and their glory.
The very France upon which your Eminence lays
such great stress is drifting away with England from
the rusty and obsolete moorings of your Church.
In France the item for education has just been con
sidered in the Budget; and, when Bishop Freppel
objected to secular schools, M. Debost replied that
they were gaining in popularity, having had since
last year 65,000 more attendants, while the scholars in
the Catholic schools have in the same time decreased
by 13,000. The establishment of professorship of the
History of Religions, to be filled with men who count
the Christian religion as but one among many, was also
very naturally objected to by the Bishop, as virtually
teaching a State irreligion. But to all this it was con
sidered sufficient to reply that these posts would be
filled by men like Ernest Havet and Renan, who would
discuss texts, and not dogmas.
What does your Eminence think of men of the type
of Ernest Renan and Ernest Havet? They are not
exactly the kind of persons upon whom your Church has
pronounced panegyrics. Your Almighty God and your
infallible Church are behind you. Strike and spare not.
Scatter the charred dust of the heretics on the wings of
the wind, as you were wont. You w’ould do so without
invocation from me; but your God has become decrepit
and your Church has become imbecile. There are, alas
for you, no lightning at Sinai to vindicate, no Holy
Inquisition at Rome to avenge. We “Infidels” have
emerged from the Stygian gloom. Our eyes have caught
from the far horizon the sunrise of the world’s morning;
and, long before the sun has climbed to the zenith, we
will stand with our heel upon the neck of your God and
your Church, proclaiming that heaven is annihilated and
hell extinguished, that the Demon of the Seven Hills is
dead, and that man, at last, is free.
Renan and Havet! Alas ! poor Cardinal. Your lines
have not fallen in pleasant places. Simeon Styletes,
standing uselessly on the top of his pillar praying, while
�IO
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
worms and vermin were eating holes through his shrunken
flesh into his sapless bones, was the type of manhood
your papist cultus produced. Marie Angelique, praying
forever, except when she stood on her head before the
Lord, and pointed up to his throne with her unwashed
heels ; or when she sucked, in his holy name, rags that
had bandaged and were saturated with the pus from sores,
was the model type of womanhood your Church pro
duced when she alone was the educator, and none
durst say unto her, What doest thou ?
Your Church, when all the power was hers, my Lord
Cardinal, inculcated a coarse, but devout, blasphemy far
beneath the mental and moral status of the School
Board system which you abhor. For instance, in
several churches of France, remarks Russell, in his
“ Modern Europe,” a festival was celebrated in com
memoration of the Virgin Mary’s flight into Egypt. It
was called the “ Feast of the Ass.” A young girl, richly
dressed, with a child in her arms, was placed upon an
ass superbly caparisoned. The ass was led to the altar
in solemn procession. High mass was said with great
pomp. The ass was taught to kneel at proper places ;
a hymn, no less childish than impious, was sung in his
praise; and, when the ceremony was ended, the priest,
instead of the usual words with which he dismissed the
people, brayed three times like an ass ! and the people,
instead of the usual response, brayed three times in
return!
Your Eminence objects to the School Board and to
secular education generally : no wonder, it is so exceed
ingly different from the “ religious education ” which
held sway when all the power was yours, and when Pro
testants and “ Infidels ” were unknown. A “ religious
education ” embraced profound speculations as to
whether Adam, not having a mother, was “created”
with a navel, and as to whether Christ could have taken
any other form but that of man—as, for instance, that of
a woman, of the devil, of an ass, of a cucumber, or of
a flint stone. Then, supposing he had taken the form
of a cucumber, how could he have preached, worked
miracles, or been crucified ? Whether Christ could be
called a man while he was hanging on the cross;
�RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
I1
whether the Pope shared both natures with Christ;
whether God the Father could in any case hate the Son ;
whether the Pope was greater than Peter, and a thousand
other niceties far more subtle than those about
“notions,” “formalities,” “quiddities,” “ ecceities,” “in
stants,” and “essences.” This “religious education,”
whose demise you lament, disposed the mind all through
Christendom to give a ready credence to miracles worked
by bottles of Christ’s blood and bottles of Mary’s milk,
“ God’s coat,” “ our lady’s smock,” part of the last supper,
a piece of the halter with which Judas hanged himself,
a bone of Mary Magdalene, at least two different heads
of Thomas-^.-Becket, Christ’s picture on a handkerchief
which he had sent to Abgarus, Christ’s foreskin, and a
finger of the Holy Ghost. In the genuineness of these and
thousands of other sacred and miracle-working relics all
Europe believed, Cardinal Manning, when your Church
had undisputed power in education; and, in the few re
maining dark dens of ignorance where your power remains
unbroken, your dupes believe in these relics still; but,
except in her dens of ignorance, Europe will tolerate your
“ religious education ” no more forever.
Ichabod ! the glory of your house has departed ;
and it would not be without sympathy that I should
listen to your wail of desolation, your voice as of one
crying in the wilderness ; but I hear in your wail the
clarion-blast which heralds that the New World is
drawn up in battle-line against the Old. I hear in
your voice in the wilderness the clash of steel in the
Armageddon in which Truth shall conquer Error, and
from which the world shall emerge, not looking for its
salvation to your poor Jew upon Calvary, but looking to
the might that slumbers in its own heart and brain for the
working out of its own sanctification and redemption.
Your Eminence states that, “from the seventeenth
century down to the present,” the education of this
country has been a “Christian education.” Yes; but it
is just because Christianity was established in England
so early as the seventh century (it was established much
earlier than that, as your Eminence will see when you
begin to read history) that it should be continued no
longer. What suited the seventh century will not suit
�12
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
the nineteenth. Human progress is as slow as the
proverbial “ mills of Godstill, it is progress ; and
what suited lethargic Saxons or steel-shirted Danes under
Offa or Hardraga will not suit the awakening intelligence
of England in the reign of Victoria.
Could I sympathise with a terrible calamity falling
upon the defenceless head of Abaddon, I should sym
pathise with your Eminence in your cry of tribulation
thatvthe education of the children of our time is passing
—has almost passed—out of the control of the Church.
This, to your Christian Abracadabra, simply means
perdition. It was only because the Christian priesthood
got hold of plastic childhood, and maimed the intellect
and mutilated the understanding, that you got Christianity
to be accepted by any except lunatics. Try it with adults
who never heard of it till they were adults, and from
the experiment you will be able to determine whether
or not what I say is true. I make bold to allege that
there never was a really sane human being in the world
who had reached manhood before he had heard of Chris
tianity, and then adopted it from the appeal it made to
his mental and moral acceptance. You have tried the
adult Jew and the adult Hindoo for ages, and what have
you to show for your missionary zeal and vast monetary
sacrifice? Your labourers have got no souls for their
hire. The field consecrated by their devotion, and not
infrequently watered with their blood, is sterile. The
effort is stupendous, and the result is mV.
No wonder that you cry with a bitter and despairing
cry that the children are taken from you. For centuries
you have crippled and debased them to bring them down
to the low standard of your creed and render them
the half-hewn caryatides to support the superstructure of
your wealth and power and splendour. It is in youth
the Chinese must distort the feet of their ladies into the
pedal abortions upon which Chinese ladies walk. If
they tried to do so in later life, the more consolidated
tarsal and metatarsal bones would resist, and the woman
would perish before the deformity was effected. It is
only in early youth you can bend the credence into accept
ing as fact that Jonah was three days “ in the whale’s
belly,” and that the Son of Man was three days “in
�“religious
education.”
13.
the heart of the earth;” and that, at the end of three days,
Jonah got vomited out on dryland ; and that, at the end
of three days, the Son of Man got up out of his grave
and flew to heaven. Tell this to any man out of Colney
Hatch, and see whether he will believe you. Then, is
it moral to impose to such an extent upon the innocent
credulity of a child as to impress fables upon him as
facts, and burn them so deeply into his soul with the
accursed branding-irons of your priestcraft that the
intellect of his manhood is unable to deface the scars ?
You can rely upon the judgment finding for Christianity
only when that judgment is strongly warped by early
prejudice. Without the instilling of that early prejudice
you cannot make Christians, and you never will. You
use with skill all the most powerful influences of mental
distortion : you use shuddering fear ; you use the most
exalted love. You terrify the child with the fire and
brimstone of your hell, and you decoy him with the
tenderest emotions to which the human heart ever
throbbed; for the child first lisps his prayer at his
mother’s knee, and, in after years, the words have still
memories of a mother’s kiss and the halo of a vanished
face and the echo of a voice that is no more. The first
dread of hell, the first memories of a mother’s love, are
skilfully linked on to a debased and degrading supersti
tion, and they are, alas! too often strong enough to
support that superstition through a whole life. And this
deep engraining of prejudice, in favour of monstrosities
which, but for this prejudice, wrould never, on their own
merits, have had a moment’s serious consideration, is
what you and your clerical fraternity of all denomina
tions call Education ! Education, forsooth—it is the
very antithesis of it. You know that the intellect, if left
unmutilated till it matured, -would attach at most as
much credence to the Arthurian as to the Gospel legends.
Accordingly, to make sure that the intellect shall never
see above and beyond the “ truths ” which must be
believed in the interests of priestcraft, you take the
intellect in its infancy and burn out its eyes, or at least
afflict them with myopia and a malignant squint.
And this is Education ! For shame, my Lord Cardinal 1
If your Christianity be so true and reasonable, wait till
�14
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
the reason is developed before you attempt to teach.
I will then make you welcome to the half-dozen idiots in
all England who will believe your fable. But, in the
name of all that is sacred in the soul of the race, desist
from mutilating the intellect and debasing the morals
of little children in the interests of your irrational and
execrable creed. They are guilty who mutilate the feet
of Chinese girls, that when they become women they
may not wantonly walk into their neighbour’s houses;
but thrice damned is the guilt of those who mutilate the
intellects of European boys and girls, that when they
become men and women they may “ walk in the way of
the Lord.”
The section of the Christian Church of which your
Eminence is an ornament has always presumed upon the
crass ignorance of its votaries, and done its best to keep
that ignorance devotedly dense. But surely you presume
too much upon the ignorance of even the dupes of the
Church of Rome when you slanderously refer to “ the
vainglorious and superficial minds who wrecked the
noble and Christian people of France.” Surely some,
even in your ignorant auditory, must have had a surmise
that the “vainglorious and superficial minds” you referred
to were the Economists and the Encyclopaedists. Your
disparaging sneer was flung at Voltaire, D’Alembert,
Diderot, Duclos, Mably Condillac, Rousseau, Turgot,
Marmontel, Helvetius, and Raynal. Was there not,
even in the dull brains of the bigots who listened to you
at Newcastle as you sneered at “ superficial minds,” some
unbidden vision of a living pigmy kicking at a phalanx
of dead colossus ?
And, as for “the noble and Christian people of France,”
where did they exist outside of the prejudiced imagina
tion of your Eminence ? As for the people of France
before the Revolution you deplore, “ Christian ” they
may have been ; but “ noble ” they were not. The world
has never seen—and may the world never see again—a
people so utterly trampled down into the abyss of want
and misery and general degradation. Every schoolboy
knows this ; but your Eminence, apparently, does not
know it—or, rather, does not want to know it. “ Every
thing was fastened on by a few hands; everywhere the
�“ RELIGIOUS EDUCATION/’
J5
smaller number was in set opposition to the plundered
many. The nobility and clergy possessed nearly twothirds of the landed property ; the other third, possessed
by the people, paid taxes to the crown, a multitude of
feudal dues to the nobility, tithes to the clergy, and was,
moreover, subjected to the devastations of noble sports
men and the depredations of their game. The taxes
upon commodities weighed upon the great mass, and,
consequently, heaviest upon the people. The mode of
levying them was vexatious; the gentry might be in
letters with impunity; the people, on the contrary, were
ill-treated and imprisoned in default of payment. It
maintained by the sweat of its brow and defended with
its blood the higher classes, while scarcely able to subsist
itself. The inhabitants of towns, industrious, enlightened
—less miserable, certainly, than the peasantry, but en
riching the country by their industry and reflecting credit
upon it by their talents—enjoyed none of the advantages
io which they were entitled. Justice, administered in
some provinces by the gentry, in the royal jurisdictions
by magistrates who had bought their offices, was slow,
often partial, always ruinous, and especially atrocious in
criminal cases. Personal liberty was violated by lettres
de cachet, the liberty of the Press by royal censors.
Lastly, the State, ill-defended abroad, betrayed by the
mistresses of Louis XV., compromised by the ministers
of Louis XVI., had just been dishonoured in the eyes
of Europe by the shameful sacrifice of Holland and
Poland.”* So much for “the noble and Christian people
of France,” and the glorious state of affairs that the
“ superficial minds ” overthrew !
It is with diffidence I remind your Eminence of what
a “ noble and Christian people” the French were before
the “superficial minds” wrecked their nobility and
Christianity. To pay the infamous gabelle, a tax on
salt of about sevenpence in the pound, and other grievous
taxes, “ I have known poor people,” says Michelet, “sell
their beds and lie upon straw ; sell their pots, kettles,
and all their necessary household goods, to content the
unmerciful collectors of the king’s taxes.” There is a
* Thiers’ “ History of the French Revolution,” vol i., p. 9.
�“religious
16
education.”
well-known official document extant which proves that
the people were oppressed to such a degree that they,
“ could not buy wheat or barley ; they had to live on
oats, to nourish themselves on grass, and even to die of
hunger.” “ The people have not money to buy bread ;”
and Foulon, the model tax-collector, retorted : '"'■Then kt
them eat grass ”—this “ noble and Christian people of
France,” whose exalted position the “ superficial minds ”
so wickedly overthrew! No doubt your Eminence
admires the corvee with the admiration you lavish upon
the vingtieme and the gabelle. By virtue of this corvee,
on certain days in each year, the officers of the Court
went through the country, seized the peasants at will,
and marched them off in droves to make or repair the
public roads. For this the peasants received no pay;
and, if they could not, during their short respites from
labour, beg enough to keep themselves alive, they might
perish of hunger. Your Comte de Charolois amused
himself by going about with his musket in his hand,
looking out for peasants thatching their cottages, that
he might fire at and shoot them for the sport of seeing
them roll off the roof to the ground. How deplorable
it is to be sure that the “ superficial minds ” should
object to such a happy condition of affairs among “ the
noble and Christian people of France !”
Every Thzirsday.
THE
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Text
“Religious Education.”
A LETTER TO
CARDINAL MANNING.
PART II.
BY
London :
W. STEWART & Co., 41, FARRINGDON St., E.C.
�.......
¿ 1i
�B3 0 7y
“Religious Education.”
And, Cardinal Manning, you will be gratified to hear
that your Church played an exceedingly prominent part
in the state of affairs the abolition of which you lament»
Great numbers of “ the noble and Christian people of
France ” were Huguenots. We will say nothing of how
your Church waded through the blood of 70,000 of these
Huguenots on a certain eve of St. Bartholomew. But
here is a record in regard to how your Christian Catholics
loved the Christian Huguenots : “ Some they stripped
naked, and, after they had offered them a thousand
indignities, they stuck them with pins from head to foot;
they cut them with pen-knives, tore them by the noses
with red-hot pincers, and dragged them about the rooms.
........... They tied fathers and husbands to the bed-posts,
and ravished their wives and daughters before their
eyes.”* No doubt, since your Eminence considers these
the amenities of a “ noble and Christian people,” you are
justified in your opposition to the un-Christian character
of School Board education. It will certainly not pro
duce the state of things you seem to admire. No set of
men brought up at a Board school will ever see any
motive to use red-hot pincers upon the flesh of those
trained at any other Board school. The teaching of
secular subjects produces no such result. To produce
adult actors in the red-hot pincers tragedy, you must train
children m the horrid dogmas and ruthless intolerance of
your Church. All the murder and martyrdom has been
over your Catechisms. I have never heard that an inch
of human flesh has been scorched, or that a drop of
human blood has been shed, over the Rule-of-Three.
Quicks “Synodicon,” vol. i., pp. 130-131.
�4
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
If you want all the old stabbing and scorching and
persecution and hatred to go on as they were wont, you
will, in early childhood, have to lay the substratum on
which they are based. The School Board will engender
only Philadelphia and cosmopolitanism; therefore, you
do well to attempt to arrest its hand, if you desire a con
tinuance of theological sectarianism and rancour. Get
hold of the children, if you can, my Lord Cardinal;
for it will take very early and unfair initiation to induce
them to tolerate, much less adore, your creed and
you. I repeat, Get hold of them early, if you can ; for
remember the truism Dryden renders so epigrammatically
in his “ The Hind and the Panther —
‘ ‘ By education most have been misled ;
So they believe because they so were bred.
The priest continues what the nurse began,
And thus the child imposes on the man.”
The Due de Chartres built himself a magnificent
brothel, to which from 150 to 200 fallen women were
led each night blindfolded. A gorgeous supper, com
prising the most generous and heating wines, was what
met the eyes of the wantons when the bandages were
removed therefrom. The 150 or 200 women sat down
to the feast in a state of perfect nudity, and had. the
fiery vintages poured out to them by the assembled
*
libertines.
Modesty cries to Mercy to let the curtain
drop upon this carnival of lust participated in by “ the
noble and Christian people of France,” before the
“ superficial minds ” incited the populace to wash away
the stains of Christian lechery in the blood of a godless
revolution. Madame de Pompadour founded that “ noble
and Christian ” institution, the Parc aux Cerfs, and to
this institution were decoyed pretty maidens, no matter
how young, to minister to the pampered sensualities of
the king when Pompadour herself, in the course of years,
had lost her fascinations as a courtesan. A secret police
was instituted to entice, or kidnap, these young girls for
sensual orgies in the Parc aux Cerfs. The pious
Christian king insisted that these girl-children should tell
their beads and say their prayers, anxious that he should
* Vide “ Regede Louis XVI.;” “ Soulaire,” vol. ii., pp. 103, 104,
�RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.'
5
have their bodies and that Christ should have their souls.
Christ generously responded to this solicitude. One of
the little kidnapped ministers of the king’s licentiousness,
a girl of fourteen, had contracted small-pox. From the
girl, in whom it was as yet undeveloped, the king caught
the disease. The malady was fire to tinder in the
corrupt and poisonous blood of the royal débauchée.
His body was one mass of nauseating putrescence. The
stench from the dying lecher was so intense that no one
could go near the bed upon which he festered and died.
Before the writings of the “ superficial minds ” had had
time to take effect, your God, Cardinal Manning, took
this “ noble and Christian ” king unto himself, because
that, when debauching the bodies of little girls, he was
so solicitous that Christ should have their souls !
In 1777 the surface of their “noble and Christian”
France was crawled over by 1,200,000 diseased beggars,
all hungry, all in rags, all criminal and murderous, all
suffering from hideous diseases which want and filth had
brought on, but all “ noble and Christian.” For mercy’s
sake, your Eminence, do, when you are moved by the
Lord Jesus Christ to speak, insist that he move you to
speak a little nearer the truth ! Remember you are not
speaking amid the darkness of the seventh century, to
which you refer so fondly. Remember that I, an ir
reconcilable layman, conduct a journal which shrinks
not from the duty of speaking plainly to you, Cardinal
though you be. The only arguments you ever had to
meet such objections as I raise, such criticisms as I offer,
were of the dungeon-and-fire order ; and neither of these
you can now employ against me. The storm of public
opinion has' blown the roof off your dungeon, and Freethought stands defying you with her foot placed upon
the torch that lit your martyr-fires. Do, then, keep a
little nearer the truth ; for, if you do not, I promise you
I will strike and spare not ; and although the clientele I
appeal to may not, in your opinion, be “ noble,” and is
certainly not “ Christian,” it is neither small nor power
less ; and it prefers my history to your faith, my blasphemy
to your mass, and my sarcasm to your prayers. This
clientele can, if you persist in putting forward devout
fallacies, afford to dispise your Eminence ; but your
�6
“ RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.’
Eminence cannot afford to despise it; for, unlike you,
it raises no wail that its house is falling into decay : it
faces you, young indeed, but strong and resolute ; and,
panoplied in the armour of truth and righteousness, it
means to go forward conquering and to conquer, till
“ noble” does mean noble, and till the term “ Christian”
is first execrated and then abandoned.
Let the tree of Roman Catholic education be judged
by its fruits. Those ignorant and down-trodden thralls
of “ noble and Christian France ” are a specimen of
the fruits. Do you object: “ These are the fruits of
the laic branches of the tree”? Very well, your
*
Eminence, I am willing to stand by testing the fruit on
the cleric branches of the tree—by the very Pope
on the chair of St. Peter. Pope Sergius III., the vice
gerent of God upon earth, lived in concubinage with a
woman named Marocia. Pope John X. lived in con
cubinage with Theodora, a younger sister of Marocia.
Pope John XII. converted the papal palace into a perfect
seraglio, and lost his life by the hand of a husband whose
wife he had dishonoured. Pope John XVII. pursued
the same licentious course, and also perished under the
hand of an avenging husband. Benedict IX. led such
a scandalous life that he outraged even the too tolerant
laxity of the Roman citizens, and was expelled the city.
Clement V. lived in concubinage with his own relative,
the Countess of Perigord. Paul III. was a Sodomite.
Pope Sixtus IV., the founder of the Inquisition, and who
is reported to have died of venereal disease, opened
brothels in Rome, which produced an annual income of
20,000 ducats, which went to help to support the luxurious
lechery of your most holy Christian Church. It was the
same Pope who, in reply to the petition of Cardinals
Robere, Riario, and San Lucas, requesting that Sodomy
might be permitted in Rome during the warm months of
June, July, and August, wrote on the margin of the
petition, “ Let it be so.” And as to Alexander VI., the
Borgia, what thinks your Eminence of him as a specimen
of the fruit of your Christian teaching? He lived in
concubinage with a young girl called Catalina Vanoci: by
her he had several sons and one daughter, the infamous
Lucretia. Lucretia became the concubine of her own
�RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
7
father, the Pope of Rome and vicegerent of God, and
cohabited with her own brothers, Luigi and Caesar.
This holy father-in-God—and father and more of
Lucretia—died of poison which he had himself prepared
for three Cardinals, and which he took in mistake. We
learn from Burnet’s exposition that indulgence in un
natural lusts was so prevalent among ecclesiastics that
St. Bernard, in a sermon preached to the clergy of
“ noble and Christian France,” affirmed Sodomy to be so
common in his time that bishops Sodomised with other
bishops! What think ye of this, your Eminence? Have
I shown you sufficient specimens of the fruit of your
Roman Catholic education? If I have not, say so, and
I will show you more. Give us, who believe in secular
education, a fair chance; give our system some fifteen
centuries, as yours has had, and see whether we will not
produce better fruit. One thing is certain : we can
hardly produce worse.
Your “religious education,” my Lord Cardinal, but
for influences which were non-Christian—nay, antiChristian—would have blotted out forever all the
learning that the past centuries of the world had accu
mulated. While your Church was piously and labo
riously discussing such problems as Was Adam’s faeces
before the Fall malodorous? How many angels at a
time can stand on the point of a needle ? the learning
which dead Greece had left, the learning which mighty
Rome had bequeathed to the world as she herself
crashed and crumbled into ruin, was trodden under the
brute hoofs of your Christian Church, but taken up and
cherished as a priceless boon by the followers of the
Prophet of Islam, whom your Church despised and
hated. “ All the knowledge of mathematics, astronomy,
medicine, and philosophy, propagated in Europe from
the tenth century onward, was derived principally from
the schools and books of the Arabians in Italy and
Spain.”* “ Mere human learning,” as your Christianity
contemptuously called it, owed its salvation from extinc
tion to the persecuted and detested Saracen.
No, your Eminence; learning never did flourish
Mosheim, vol. ii., p. 194.
�RELIGIOUS EDUCATION/
under Christian auspices ; and she only dares to par
tially assert herself now because Christianity is rent and
shattered and half-dead, and where she could once bury
the Albigensian heresy under a million of bloody corpses
she is now impotent to break and silence a bitter pen
like mine. Learning was never at all in the line of the
followers of your uneducated carpenter and his illiterate
fishermen. Your creed, my Lord Cardinal, was hatched
in the nest of Ignorance, and only on the dunghill of
Ignorance can it thrive. Learning, I repeat, was never
in the Christian line; but, to cheer and encourage your
Eminence, I will tell you what was in the Christian line.
From accounts of the Council of Pavia we find that
horses and hawks and gambling and harlots and drunken
ness were very much in the Christian line, and very con
spicuously distinguished the Christian priesthood. And
as for the sanctity of woman, your Church conserved it
as such a sacred trust that the same Council remarks
of your religious houses : “ They seem to be rather
brothels than monasteries.” From accounts of the
Council of Mayence—and, remember, the accounts
of these Councils were not written by wicked Infidels,
but by devout Catholics—it is candidly remarked
that “some priests, cohabiting with their own sisters,
have had children by them.” How to make convents
into brothels, and how to have children by their own
sisters, was the kind of learning your priesthood culti
vated when they were not deep in absorbing studies as to
the exact odour of prelapsarian excrementum, whether
Adam, having had no mother, had a navel, and the
precise number of angels that could stand on the point
of a needle.
One other branch of “ religious education ” was parti
cularly in the Christian line; and, in this branch, the
Christians left the Saracens and all other pagans far
behind. This branch of a “ religious education ” in
which your Church so greatly excelled was Hatred. The
Christians could hate each other more bitterly, and per
secute each other more cruelly, than any other religionists '
on the face of the earth, and their ancient excellence in
this department of polite learning is not yet entirely lost.
It was, as you are no doubt aware, the common proverb
�“ RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.”
9
of the pagans, “ No wild beasts are so hostile to men as
are Christian sects to one another.” No one save rival
Christians ever drenched the fields of the earth with
blood over a diphthong, or ever flew at each other’s
*
throats over such hair-breadth twaddle as the difference
between Filioque and no Filioqne, till the Christian
Church was permanently rent into two sections, the
Latin and the Greek. We have seen the results of
“ religious education ” when your Church had the power.
These things were done in the green tree ; we shall take
care they are not done in the dry.
Is your Eminence aware that in 1861 (before the
institution of the School Board which you deplore), of
persons sent to prison, 8^ per cent, were under 16
years of age. In 1870 7 per cent, were under 16. In
1884 only 3 per cent., and this 3 per cent, has been found
to consist almost entirely of children who have managed
to elude attendance at school. So much for the abhorred
School Board and the diminution of criminality; but,
then, criminality and devotion to your Church go
together; and thus it is that you practically lament that
crime is on the decline. Statistics show with inexorable
clearness that, out of all proportion to their numerical
efficiency outside, the inmates of our prisons are Roman
Catholics. With Superstition and Ignorance you always
must have Crime; but, then, without Superstition and
Ignorance you cannot have Christianity, and, of course,
from a priest’s point of view, better have Crime with
Catholicism than throw over Catholicism to get rid of
Crime.
Before the Education Act of 1870, which is so detest
able to your Eminence, the so-called National Schools
were, as a judicious writer remarks, only sq in name, and
they were administered by one religious denomination,
being therefore under the control of its sectarian influence,
while also supplying instruction to a comparatively small
number of children. The remainder were to be found
in the Dame Schools, British and Ragged Schools, and
the Voluntary Schools of various denominations. But
* I refer to the dispute between the Homoousians and Homoibusians.
�TO
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.'
what of the larger residue ? They were running about
the streets; they were ignorant and uncared for, except
at the hands of noble philanthropists, like the late Lord
Shaftesbury and his colleagues. Imbibing the instincts
of idleness and crime, without a counteracting check,
they sapped the healthy life of the growing generation.
Crime among the juvenile classes had grown to such an
extent that in 1870 no less than 9,998 children were
committed to prison for a variety of offences. Over all
educational facilities for their improvement the State
possessed no control, excepting where schools were
subject to Government inspection as the condition of
receiving grants of public money.
And, in the incontrovertible words of another writer,
“ the Board Schools have through good and evil report
sown the seeds of a new era. The children who go back
to the slums from the Board Schools are themselves
quietly accomplishing more than Acts of Parliament,
missions, and philanthropic crusades can ever hope to
do. Already the young race of mothers, the girls who
had the benefit for a year or two of the Education Act,
are tidy in their persons, clean in their homes, and decent
in their language. Let the reader who wishes to judge
for himself of the physical and moral results which educa
tion has already accomplished go to any Board School
recruited from the ‘ slum ’ districts, and note the differ
ence in the older and younger children ; or attend a
Board meeting, where the mothers come to plead
excuses for their little ones’ non-attendance, and mark
the difference between the old and young mothers,
between those who, before they took ‘mates’ or husbands,
had a year or two of school training, and those who had
given birth to children in the old days of widespread
ignorance.” But all this indisputable improvement of
the social, moral, and intellectual condition of the masses
is, of course, to your Eminence, only a cold and comfort
less fact, seeing that your theological absurdities are being
neglected, and stubborn knees are being trained that will
not genuflect to crosses and relics ; manly voices being
trained, but not to whine your litanies; and above all,
breeches pockets being plenished which will not disgorge
their contents for penance and purgatorial fees for vest-
�“ RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.”
11
merits and images and candle-sticks .and altars and
painted glAss and mummery.
My Lord Cardinal, it is a simulation and a mockery
for you to speak about education at all. As a Cardinal
of the Romish Church, your comments upon education
are about as valuable as would be those of Satan upon
holy water. It has ever been your aim and policy to
murder education; he who murders any person is the
last one in the world whose sincerity we should trust in,
should he evince a specially anxious affection for the
person he had murdered.
I am sorry that the limits of this letter preclude
my giving more than the very vaguest outline of the
learning (?) of your Christian priesthood and the attitude
they have from first to last taken up as regards education.
However the exigencies of the time may urge upon you
to enunciate your theory to-day, we well know what your
attitude has been through all the centuries of your domi
nation. You have ever maintained that the wisdom of
man (and, in the name of casuistry, what other wisdom is
there ?) is foolishness in the sight of God. The unalter
able attitude of your faith towards education, about
which you now orate, may be summed up in the wellknown retort of the infallible Pope, Felix V. A cardinal
one day ventured to reproach him for his ignorance,
whereupon, with pious bigotry, the pontiff replied : “ The
Holy Ghost is not an ass, is it? Well, it will inspire me.
That is its business.” You educated, and (because you
change not unless when you cannot possibly help it) you
would still educate Christendom on the old-fashioned
lines of the Holy Ghost. Now, this Holy Ghost may be
very well as “ the comforter ” to devout imbeciles who
feel the peristaltic movements of the abdominal viscera,
and mistake them for the action of the Holy Spirit. Rut
this Holy Ghost, “the comforter,” is no schoolmaster,
and this I say to his face ; and if he, she, or it have no
face, then I say it to its os coccyx, or whatever part of
it it is decorous to address.
Your infallible Felix V. sounded the keynote of the
devilward march of your hierarchy when, instead of to
study, he gave himself up to gluttony and volup
tuousness, and where anything like education was
�12
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
wanted left the matter in the hands, or feet, or
tentacula, or some such organs, of the Holy Ghost.
And this said Holy Ghost has shirked its business
deplorably. It has been as successful in standing to man
in the place of education as the other third part of a
juggle of a deity has been in redeeming the world. The
party that permits me to speak in its name, your
Eminence, has had enough of the Holy Ghost as a
schoolmaster. We mean to dismiss this ghost, and try
some mortal with a degree from an university, or a certi
ficate from a training college. Besides being a school
master, this ghost of yours has figured as a dove, or
pigeon. The world will figure better when it sees this
pigeon finally baked into a pie and its feet sticking up
through the crust. Is this offensive ? It is not our time
to apologise; it is yours. You first insult our sense and
outrage our reason with your divine twaddle and pious
balderdash, and then expect us to be deferential and
apologetic. Your absurdity and cant is as revolting to
the Agnostic as the Agnostic’s anti-Christian blasphemy
can be to you. Cease to print your inane and insane
lunacies, and, of course, we will cease to attack them.
But, in the interests of the sanity of our race, in the
interests of man’s practicable hopes and rational aspira
tions, insult us no more with the pious legerdemain and
divine conjuring tricks of your pulpits; or, with the
most savage cat-o’-nine tails that sarcasm can wield, we
will lash your rhinoceros hide, O Church, till you will be
glad to find even in the depths of hell a refuge from our
scourge.
You have heard of the lex talionis, your Eminence.
Feel it. We are not your friends. We are your enemies
to the death. We refuse in the interests of conventional
amity to forget your faith’s diabolical record of over a
thousand years. Rivers of the best blood of Europehave, O Church, been let loose by your sword. They
have flowed into a sea of vengeance over which now
gather the thunder-clouds that will burst and shatter
you. These rivers of human blood flow between us and
you ; and over them we refuse to reach you any olive
branch. The charred bones of Giordano Bruno lie
between us and you. The flame that shrivelled up his
�RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
z3
majestic brain and heroic heart yet throws its heat upon
our “ Infidel ” cheek, and over these bones—holier than
tons of your priestly relics—we swear, by our deathless
and relentless hatred of wrong and tyranny, that with
you we will hold neither truce nor parley, that our helmet
shall never leave our head, that day or night our swordbelt shall never be ungirded till your utter destruction is
accomplished and guarantee thereby given that you, O
Rome, will curse the world no more.
“ Christian education ” indeed, your Eminence !
Unless you presumed upon the impenetrable ignorance
of your dupes, you would never dare to refer to such a
sinister sham and flagitious hypocrisy. I say it delibe
rately, judicially, and ' perfectly prepared to take up the
gauntlet of any historical student who may challenge
me : Christian education has been the curse of Europe.
From the very first, Christianity “ despised all knowledge
that was not useful to salvation.”* A great majority
of Christians were anxious “ to banish all reason and
philosophy out of the confines of the Church.”f Up to
the time when Constantine, the libertine and murderer,
took Christianity by the hand, and she found she was in
a position to argue with the sword and debate with the
heading-axe, she took no further pains to discipline
herself in what she contemptuously called mere human
learning. Formerly a section of the Christian priesthood
had taken some interest in such learning, in order to be
able to argue with the Pagan; but the Christian was able
now to argue with the Pagan in a far different fashion—
with the dungeon and the stake, and accordingly “ the
liberal arts and sciences and polite literature fell into a
declining condition.’’^ This Christian bigotry and
murderous persecution asserted itself till, in the words
of Moshiem,§ “ learning was almost extinct; only a
faint shadow of it remained.” Philosophy was persistently neglected, for, writes Moshiem, “ nearly all
supposed that religious persons could do very well without
it, or, rather, ought never to meddle with it.”
I could go on interminably, your Eminence, in demon
* “ Decline and Fall,” chap. xv.
J “Jorian,” vol. ii., p. 212.
+ “ Mosheim,” vol. i., p. 148.
§ Vol. i., p. 359.
�14
“religious education.”
strating that your Church not only utterly neglected
“worldly learning,” but that it assumed to it an attitude
of actual hostility; but I presume that even you, with
your faculty for pious romancing will not pretend there is
any way of rebutting the charge in this respect; so, turn
ing from your neglect of and hostility to “ mere human
learning,” I shall briefly revert to the “ religious educa
tion ” which you have inculcated for fifteen centuries,
and which you teach to-day. You want the education of
the children of this our England to be in your hands.
You teach that these children must be baptised, or that
they will be damned. So urgently do you contend for
this barbarous hocus-pocus of baptism that, if the mother
be likely to die while she is in a state of pregnancy, she
must be cut up alive so that the foetus may be extracted
alive and baptised to obviate its spending an eternity in
fire and brimstone. The sweetness and delicacy of this
doctrine is as conspicuous as its loving kindness of
the fiery sort that demonstrates itself in never-dying
worms and inextinguishable flames. This, your Eminence,
teaches us the incalculable importance of a few drops of
water at the right time, and the ineffective impotence of
the whole Pacific at, say, five seconds subsequent to the
right time. It also teaches us how profound are the
divine mysteries of a “ religious education.”
One beauty of belonging to your Church, your
Eminence, is exceedingly solacing and comforting, and
that is, that you and your fellow Catholics will be saved,
and that all the rest of the world will be damned; for I
find, from your “ Ordo Administrandi Sacramenti,” that
outside “ the true Catholic Faith ” “ no one can be
saved.” Of course, this is quite certain. It is also very
modest; there is not a vestige of blasphemous cheek
about it. The whole world has been “ created ” for the
purpose of being roasted for ever and ever, to afford
amusement to the handful of Catholics who will sit up
aloft in heaven looking down upon the agony wriggle of
the infernal pit. The inhabitants of the globe have
been estimated at 1,000,000,000, and the Catholics amount
to only 160,000,000. Heaven will be the dress-circle,
and Hell will be the stage ; and those on the stage,
amusing those in the dress-circle, dancing an agony break-
�‘religious education.’
15
down, and footing the fiery jig of the damned, will be out
of all proportion to the mere handful of privileged Papists,
wearing crowns, waving wings, thumbing harps, and
looking on. This doctrine is as humble as it is humane,
and gives us a divine insight into the glories of a “ re
ligious education.” It must be so gratifying to a true
Catholic to see his Protestant wife in endless torment.
She was loving and true and noble. She bore him sons
and daughters. In poverty, distress, and sickness she
stood by him with that self-denying and heroic tender
ness with which woman alone is gifted. She was the wife
of his bosom; but now, in hell, she leaps into the em
brace of devils. All this because she could accept the
Tweedledum of Consubstantiation, but not the Tweedledee of Transubstantiation. For this “ thou art com
forted” and she is “tormented.” So much for the
unspeakable happiness of “religious education.” I am
only an “ Infidel,” and only imperfectly appreciate it.
In fact, honesty impels me to make the impious admis
sion that I desire to be with my wife and children
wherever they are. I wish to be with them, whether
they be in Heaven, Hell, or Annihilation.
The “religious education” of your Eminence implies
subscription to the creed that, “ in the most holy Sacra
ments of the Eucharist, there are truly, really, and sub
stantially the body and blood, together with the soul and
divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ; and that there is made
a conversion of the whole substance of the bread into
the body and of the whole substance of the wine into
the blood.”* After you have eaten a slice of this God
who made the earth and then came down to it as a
joiner and made wheelbarrows, your “religious educa
tion ” advises those who have eaten hocus-pocussed Godand-joiner to pray as follows : “ May thy body, O Lord,
which I have received, and thy blood which I have
drank, cleave to my bowels, and grant that no stain of sin
may remain in me who have been fed with this pure and
holy sacrament.”! If I could humbly 'presume to
comment on a mystery so sacred, I should reverently
* “ Ordo Ministrandi Sacramenti.”
+ “ Missal for the Use of the Laity,” p. 30.
�16
“religious education.”
observe that, after you have eaten a world-maker and
wielder of a jack-plane, there is little wonder if he should
“ cleave ” to your “ bowels,” that you should be afflicted
with divine constipation ; but I should, with therapeutic
piety, suggest that you work off the god with Glauber salts
and the joiner with jalap. Is this blasphemous, your Emi
nence ? It is infinitely less blasphemous than your missal.
Mine is a drastic attempt to make men sane; yours is an
insidious attempt, in the interests of priestcraft, to keep
men cross-signing and genuflecting idiots.
Price Twopence.
Every Thursday.
THE
SECULAR
REVIEW:
A JOURNAL OF AGNOSTICISM.
EDITED BY SALADIN.
Order of your Newsagent, or send direct to the Publishers—W.
Stewart & Co., 41, Farringdon Street, London( E.C.
HISTORICAL PAMPHLETS.
A Reply to Cardinal Manning, by Saladin ...
The Crusades, by Saladin
The Covenanters, by Saladin
Christian Persecution, by Saladin ...
The Flagellants, by Saladin
The Iconoclasts, by Saladin
The Inquisition, Part I., by Saladin
...
The Inquisition, Part II., by Saladin
The Dancers, Shakers, and Jumpers, Part I., by Saladin
The Dancers, Shakers, and Jumpers, Part II., by Saladin
The Persecution of the Jews, Part I., by Saladin
The Persecution of the Jews, Part II., by Saladin
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NATIONAL SECULAR SOCT^ty
“Religious Education.”
A LETTER. TO
CARDINAL MANNING.
FART III.
WITH
ADDENDA.
London:
W. STEWART & Co., 41, FARRINGDON St., E.C.
��B 30?9
M5 <>7
“Religious Education.”
Have I recommended purgatives to work deity and
mechanic out of the enterics of saints? May I point
out, your Church, in its “ religious education,” proceeds
on somewhat similar lines ? I find, from a rubric in the
“ Roman Missal,”* what is to be done with Christ, pro
viding that the saint vomit him ! The blasphemy implied
in a “ poor worm of the dust ” retching away and
vomiting God is a hyperbole of sacrilege to which I
cannot aspire to reach, and I leave all the honour and
glory of it to the Roman Catholic Church. I find that,
according to the rubric (how unspeakable the advantages
of a “ religious education ” !), the vomit is to be kept in
“some sacred place” till it is “corrupted”—in other
words, till God is rotten. It is so considerate of your
Church to thus write down to the level of a sow—perhaps
the only creature besides a priest who could contemplate
without nausea first swallowing the Lord and then
vomiting him, and then looking for him in the vomit.
And your Eminence would like this emeticating of God,
prodding about for him in the vomit, finding him and
swallowing him over again, or not finding and, therefore
burning him and the vomit, and casting the ashes into
the sacristan to be taught at the expense of the rate
payers ! The ratepayers are mostly fools, and pay rates
and taxes with too little investigation into the why and
wherefore; and many of them are addicted to finding
Jesus. But they draw the line somewhere. They
have begun to draw the line at the priest who, in
order to “find Jesus,” prods about in a vomit with a
breakfast fork! Ugh! But no. This is nastiness to
be sure; but it is divine nastiness, and part and parcel of
* Published in Mechlin, 1840.
�4
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.'
a “ religious education.” Would it be etiquette, your
Eminence, for the person prodding about with the fork,
when he has discovered the half-digested wafer in the
vomit, to exclaim, “I have found Jesus!”
Then, your Eminence, the fine, cheerful doctrine of
Purgatory enters into the curriculum of a “ religious edu
cation.” In purgatory there is a nice, clear fire (ignis
)
*
for cooking souls. This nice, clear fire is exceedingly
useful; it enables you to rifle the pockets of a man’s
relations after he himself has been laid in his grave.
The fires in purgatory are just the sufficient heat for the
dead to enable you to extract half-crowns from the
pockets of the living.
Old Brown dies, his body is
buried, and you get certain fees over that; and his soul
canters off to purgatory. Young Brown would not mind
a cent about his dad being in purgatory, if you would
make the place at all comfortable for him ; but you
manage to make old Brown hot enough to make young
Brown pay to get him out. All this is very clever, and
very religious. St. Christina, who had been in purgatory,
and managed to come back to the earth again (possibly
for her umbrella), told your great and learned Cardinal
Bellarmine that “ the torments that I there witnessed
are so dreadful that to attempt to describe them would
be utterly in vain.” The place was found to be filled
with “ those who had repented indeed of their sins,
but had not paid the punishment due for them.’T After
this, from St. Christina to Bellarmine, who would be so
unfilial as to leave his father, or even his mother-in-law,
in purgatory ? Out they must come. The devout one
must “raise the wind ” to put out the fire. What man
who has the soul of a man would not pawn his braces;
what woman who has the heart of a woman would not
sell her garters, to get her dear dead out of such a hot
and damnable hole as the purgatory of Bellarmine? It
is set apart, it seems, for those who have repented of
their sins, but have not paid for them. Those who
have neither repented of their sins nor paid for them go
straight to hell; but that matters little : the temperature
* See Catechism on the fifth article of the Creed of Pope Pius IV,
t “ De Genitu Columbse,” bk. ii., ch. ix.
�RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
5
is only a trifle higher, and a good, round, sound specimen
of a sinner can soon get accustomed to that. The great
thing is the pay. Pay, and it hardly matters a cinder
whether you repent or not. Yours is a grand and noble
Church, Cardinal Manning. It has the knack of getting
all possible moneys out of a man when he is alive, and,
through its purgatory, it can pursue the dead through
the very bottom of the grave, as it were, and shake him,
red-hot, flaming, and shrieking, in the eyes of the friends
he has left, that they may sell their very shirts to relieve
him of his agony. The one paid for leaps out from the
flames into the midst of heaven’s wings and harps, and
the gold and silver ring and rattle into the coffers of the
priest.
The Agnostic, alas, has no such facilities for turning
an honest penny. He does not know God sufficiently
to be able to induce him to enter into the swim with
him to help him to swindle and juggle. It is no use
any one trying to swindle on any exalted and profitable
scale, unless he has got God on his side, and does his
juggling in God’s name. All history and all experience
teach us that lesson with pious emphasis. I have not
God on my side, so all that I get is a little pittance for
my honest toil. I have no way of extracting cash for
the love of harps that have never been strung, and for
the fear of fires that have never been kindled. I am at
this disadvantage for not having acted up to the precepts
of a “religious education.”
Still, O Cardinal, if God be God—if he be noble and
generous and humane—you may stride up to him with
all the wealth and grandeur your Church has acquired,
and I will walk up into his presence with only this year’s
volume of the Secular Review under my arm. And, if
he say, “ Depart from me, ye cursed 1” it will be to you,
O Cardinal, and not to me. He will say, “ Give me a
shake of your hand, Saladin. You searched earnestly
and honestly for me, and could not find me ; but you
see I am here. You often studied and read all day, and
then burned the oil till long after midnight. Without
fee or reward, amid contumely and in obscurity, you
worked out your very life to teach others what you con
ceived to be right and true. To be mistaken, Saladin, is
�6
“religious
education.”
a small thing in the eyes of a God ; but to be honest is a
great thing. Read me some passages from ‘At Random
they are flashes from the immortal soul of a man
struggling in the dark ;• and passages written in the red
blood of an earnest human life are worthy the attention of
a God.”
I am, My Lord Cardinal,
Your Eminence’s
Obedient Servant,
Saladin.
�ADDENDA.
THE CHRISTIAN HEAVEN.
Bishop Croke of Cashell recently mounted the highest
stilts of sacred oratory, and dashed along thus, with his
head in New Jerusalem and his feet in Kildare :—
When we read in the fifteenth chapter of the Gospel according
to St. Luke that “there is more joy in heaven upon one sinner
that doeth penance than upon ninety-nine just who need not
penance,” we may very naturally be expected to say each one
within himself—Sin, then, must sadden God exceedingly, and cast
a gloom, so to speak, over the face of His angels ; because penance
that wipes sin away gives great gladness to God, fills with joy the
whole court of heaven, makes the loveliest seraph there smile yet
more sweetly, and Heaven itself become more heavenly still. Only
just think of it, brethren. There is the great God of the universe
sitting serenely, as we are used to picture him, on his throne of
state on high. Millions and hundreds of millions of angels
brighter far than the sun and infinitely more beautiful than the
moon stand ever-joyous sentinels around him. The ample domain
of,heaven itself, extending far and wide—yea, full many a mile
further than created eye can carry—encompasses him on every side.
It is lit up with lamps that know no dimness, and peopled with
happy spirits that are not destined to die. This earth is but an
atom in their sight. Wars, conflagrations, earthquakes, plague and
famine, and pestilence sweep over and decimate its inhabitants, and
Heaven heeds not the ruin that is tints made. Yet, strange to say,
one man, a poor weak worm of the earth, living on it, born of it,
and destined to return to it again in death, trangresses a law that
had been given to him by God for his guidance—thereby commit
ting sin—and behold the heart of the Most High is saddened, a
cloud comes across the countenance of his angels, and heaven itself
seems to be heaven no more. But, see, that same man repents;
that sinner is converted ; that rebel hand raised in pride against
the Almighty is uplifted no more, and, as the herald of God’s mercies
to man proclaims the glad tidings aloud, the music of heaven’s
choir becomes sweeter still; the light of heaven’s lamps becomes
brighter still ; the face of heaven’s angels becomes more smiling
still, for there is more joy in heaven upon one sinner that does
penance than upon ninety-nine just who need not penance.
�8
ADDENDA,
You see into that passage in Luke the Archbishop
has got his papist “penance” inserted where the
Protestant version has “repentance.” With the Pro
testant, “penance” is an heretical abomination. But
you observe the “word of God” is so explicit and simple
that it means either, or both, or neither. This vague
ambiguity is a distinguishing feature of divine writing.
If a man were to lose his reason, he could write tolerably
like God; and a man who has lost his reason, or who,
as is usually the case, had never any to lose, understands
best what God has been graciously pleased to write.
“ Sin,” according to Croke, and of course he knows
all about it, must “sadden God exceedingly.” A “sad”
deity, God-in-the-dumps, sitting on the white throne,
with all the beasts roaring “ Holy, holy, holy 1” and
glaring at him with the eyes they have in their tails and
their elbows, convinces me that Augustus Harris will
never produce a really effective pantomime at Drury
Lane till he has had the advantage of spending a week
in heaven. Would the great Croke, who seems to know
heaven and its denizens so intimately, inform me whether
the hebdomadal issue of this journal can “sadden God
exceedingly ” ? I know of no god, and I prefer to know
of none till I find one magnanimous and mighty enough
not to get “sad” at the writings of a weak mortal like
Saladin, or be pleased with the ranting but pious blarney
of a little sermon-spinner like Croke.
God used to be unchangeable. But that was in the
good old days, before Ireland and Croke were invented.
Now he gets “sad” whenever anybody sins; but grins
from ear to ear, and kicks up his holy heels with delight,
whenever anybody does penance. Pretty sudden and
fiequent transitions these for an unchangeable God.
But the authority is very high—the authority of his
friend, Croke of Cashel.
u
am „really sorry f°r
P00r dear angels with the
gloom on their faces. I once had a notion of becom
ing an angel myself by imitating, say, David, the man
“according to God’s own heart.” But now I give up
the project. There would always be somebody sinning,
and so my face would always be clouded with “gloom,”
except when somebody did penance—the only thing, by
�THE CHRISTIAN HEAVEN.
9
the-bye, that seems to throw a gleam of light into heaven.
This “ gloom ” would never do for me; I like a good
laugh now and again; and I can laugh, too, a loud hurri
cane of a laugh that shakes the rafters. So I will relin
quish my design of becoming an angel by imitating
David, and thereby some Uriah and some Joab will
escape murder and some Bathsheba dishonour.
Lord, how Croke does hit off heaven with only a few
spasms of his voice—the best voice going at wild rant
and mad tapsalteerie. Perhaps “ the loveliest seraphs
there would smile yet more sweetly” if I could get
beside them to tell them tales of heroic W allace instead
of stories about timid Jesus. By my halidome, I should
like to strut up the golden street—although I should
much rather stand up to the hurdies in Scottish heather
—and fling the strains of my mountain harp into the
ears of the belles of heaven. If they have blood in their
veins, I should send it tingling to the tips of their toes
and their wings. I should make the lyre of Caledonia
weep and moan and thunder and dirl till the harps that
hung on the willows by the streams of Babel would be
broken up and cast away.
Dr. Croke’s heaven, which is intended to be so attrac
tive to good Catholics and Land-Leaguers, does not
tempt me. I do not feel at all attracted to a great
ogre of a God, sitting on “ his throne of state on high,”
while “ millions and hundreds of millions of angels,
brighter far than the sun, and infinitely more beautiful
than the moon,” stand around him as “ sentinels.”
“ Sentinels,” indeed ! Surely these millions of angels
might be better employed. Millions of these celestial
monsters with wings, but whose tails are never men
tioned, stand “sentinel,” like the big horsemen at White
hall. Before I can be got to be really enamoured of
heaven, I should like to know how its flying monsters
get along without tails. A tail is to a bird what a rudder
is to a ship. I should like to be assured, before I consent
to go to heaven, that an angel can steer its course
accurately without a tail. I do not wish to go there and
incur the risk of some great, flying idiot coming dashing
up against me and knocking the teeth out of my head,
with a “Beg your pardon, Sir—pure accident; had
�IO
ADDENDA.
intended to fly to that there rafter 1” Besides, if these
angels are “ brighter far than the sun/’ I could not look
upon their splendour; so I should shortly be blind as
well as toothless.
In spite of the tremendous effulgence of Dr. Croke’s
angels, I observe that heaven is “lit up with lamps.”
Seeing that, in brilliance, every angel must be equal to
at least fifty sperm candles, I fail to see the use of the
lamps ; and I fear, as a canny Scot, I should demur
at the holy extravagance and the divine waste of paraffin.
At all events, fitting heaven up with lamps does not, as
far as I am concerned, add to its charms. There you
sit, pen in hand, all silent as death ■ and you in obstetric
t roes with one of your biggest thoughts, when crack
goes the glass chimney of the said lamp, and, in your
state of concentrated intensity, nearly startles your life
out. Besides, lamps are constantly getting upset, and,
if I were to upset one upon Sarah’s skirts or Rahab’s
polonaise, the effects might disconcert all heaven.
Besides, in trimming the wick, I usually burn my fingers,
and when I burn my fingers I usually swear ; and a good,
rattling malediction might tempt some outraged seraph
to throw me over heaven’s battlements into' the other
place, hurling the lamp after me.
But, O Bishop of Cashel, can all these millions
of angels find nothing better to do than to “stand
sentinel ” ? It may be all glory and brilliance with
;
but there are lanes and alleys with us where it is all
misery and gloom. The sties of Seven Dials are filled
with guilt and misery; over the fever slums of White
chapel falls the Shadow of Death.
Where are the
hundreds of millions of angels? From the dens of
Want and Stench and Disease rises the cry of Humanity;
but that cry reaches not the ears of the angels. Un
moved, they stand sentinel round their ogre God. Not
one angel breaks away from the phalanx to help the
gallant soul beaten down in life’s struggle, to drive away
want and shame from the home of the widow, to give
shelter to the destitute and bread to the fatherless.
The father which art in heaven ” cannot spare one
angel out of his hundreds of millions to visit his children
in mercy, and allay the gnawings of hunger and the pain
�THE CHRISTIAN HEAVEN.
11
of the heart that aches in misery. The music of every
harp, the sheen of every wing, is wanted “ for his own
glory.” No angel can be spared to stand between the
maiden and the deceiver. No angel can be sent for a
moment to kiss the desperately-parted lips and smooth
down the wildly-dishevelled hair of her, the lost and
ruined, as she mounts the parapet of the bridge to leap
from the street and Shame into the river and Death.
No angel comes down with the lightning in his hand to
strike the rich man dead as, by dint of his gold, from
the pale arms of Famine he forces the embraces of
Love.
A hundred thousand men, in uniform, are struggling
in yonder valley. A chorus goes to hell of the yells
of madness, the groans of anguish, and the screams of
agony. The gulf of smoke is torn by torrents and bursts
of fire, and shaken by louder than the thunders of
God. Weary with slaughter, his feet entangled in his
brother’s entrails, the powder-blackened madman falls.
He clutches at the red grass and the heaps of reeking
butchery, and gurgles and gasps and drowns in his
brother’s blood. And the horror and the agony are not
all here. Circling away into the busy towns, the quiet
villages, the corn fields, and the apple orchards of other
lands, extends the tide of misery and woe. Far away
from the field of carnage, hunger overtakes the orphan
child. The aged mother has lost her son, and the
young girl her lover. Over hundreds of leagues of the
world rises the voice of mourning and lamentation and
woe. Damn the heartless god that required all his idle
angels when his children down here went mad 1 Out of
the vast multitude, could he spare not a single one to
stand between these two hosts, and stay that hurricane
of lead; not one to stop these levelled bayonets and
that crunch of steel—that grinding of the bloody wheels
of the mills of Death ?
Is this God—this omnipotent fiend who could make
us, his poor children on earth here, holy and happy, and
will not ? Then let me, his son, flee from such a father
to the uttermost rim of the universe. Is this heaven,
where immortals stand as a retinue of sentinels, unmoved
by the tears of man’s misery and the cries of human
�12
ADDENDA.
pain ? Is this heaven—the happiest sphere we are to
enter when the gate of the grave closes behind us ? Then
proclaim it from the housetops that there is no heaven,
that all that is is a universal hell, and that man is the
plaything of an inscrutable fiend.
When will gushing gospel-mongers learn that, in spite
of its “loveliest seraphs” smiling as sweetly as they can
be made to do in Bishop Croke’s pious rhetoric, heaven
is not good enough for nineteenth-century men and
women. It did ■well enough as a more or less delirious
day-dream for centuries that are no more, for those who
have Jain in the grave so long that it would require
chemical analysis to distinguish the marrow of thefemorbone from the rust of the coffin-nail.
Shades of the dead, whose essence, in a sublime
panontism, has gone to feed the tissues of the universe,
we mean no disrespect to you when we reject your heaven.
It is upon the mountain,formed by the bonesofa departed
world, we stand, in order to see further than that departed
world ever saw. It is not the cerebration inside our indivi
dual skull, but the fact of our standing upon a more than
Tamerlane pyramid of skulls, that throws our vision
further down the vista of Mystery. The former coral
zoophytes laid their deposits on the sea-bed and under the
wave; on their deposits we place ours, thanks to them,
not in the dark like theirs, but up in the light, where the
sun shines, where the clouds roll and unroll, where the
wind blows and the billows thunder and s ing. We are
no longer away down among heavens and hells, the rocks
and algae of the ocean’s floor, but up in the light, where
the sea-birds scream, where the blue smoke from our
hearth melts away calmly over the deep green of the
trees, where the waters are wooed by olive boughs and
kissed by riparian myrtles, and flowers fling the glory of
their fragrance over the lake of the atoll.
Away with your heaven and other submarine night
mares of the world before sunrise. All hail a new
heaven and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness !
Emerged at length from the deep, we are religious, but
our religion has burst asunder the fetters of your
theology; we are pious, but we visit your temples with
fire and desolation ; we are worshipful, but we urge on the
car of Progress over the shattered fragments of your gods.
�CHIVALRY.
13
CHIVALRY.
They knelt ’fore the altar’s gilded rail,
The beautiful and the brave,
In the dim old abbey down in the vale,
O’er high-born dust in the grave.
And martyr holy and tortured saint
Were limned on the glorious pane,
And the sunbeams threw on the carvings quaint
A golden and crimson stain.
And the organ peal shook the dead in their grave,
And the incense smoke died away
Down the dim-lit chancel and solemn nave
Where the dead in their marble lay.
The orange wreath in the morning’s breath,
And the warrior’s nodding plume,
In the hoary cloister smiled at Death
And the warp and the weft of Doom.
And the noblest blood in the land was there—
The chivalrous sword and mail;
And the naked breasts of the Norman fair
Throbbed around that altar’s rail.
And the father leant on his battle brand,
And the mother dropped a tear,
And De Wilton’s Edith laid her hand
In the gauntlet of De Vere.
And the bridal ring and the muttered words,
And the gems and the plumes of pride,
And the whispers low, and the clank of swords,
And De Wilton’s girl was a bride.
*
*
*
*
Heir to wide lands, she bore him a son
On a sweet and a silent day :
Where the breach was won, and lost, and won,
De Wilton was far away.
�14
addenda.
And he wore her glove by his mangled plume
And her kiss on his lip still lay,
1
nd his blade flashed dread as the bolt of Doom
From the morn till the noon of day.
Wherever raved wildest the storm of blades,
And the red rain bloodiest fell
Wherever thickest the troops of shades
Were hurled to the realms of Hell
°e Vere’s blue flag with his Edith’s hair
Waved in the reeling van,
And rose and fell, ’mid groan and yell,
In the chaos of horse and man.
It sank at last in the hurricane
That raged round the knights of De Vere
And the world span round his reeling brain ’
Laid bare by a foeman’s spear.
Hearts rained out blood, helms glinted fire
Mid the death groan and hurraa •
An^ kn,ghthood’s pride toiled, tugged, and died
Wheie the spangled banner lay.
For Edith s hair on that broidered soy
Lay trampled in dust and gore;
And Rudolph had sworn to bear it with joy
bo her bower or return no more.
He sprang with a shout from the reeling sod
A gash on his helmless brow,
Raised his red hand aloft to God,
And hissed his dauntless vow :
“Ye saints,” quoth he, “this soy’s my shroud,
Or I bear it to Edith again !”■_
_
BUA.^ld
tbe burst of the thunder-cloud,
Or the dash of the roaring main,
The foe swept on ten thousand strong
O’er Rudolph’s wounded ten;
&
quakes, the mountain shakes
Neath the tramp of armed men.
And vassal thralls with husky cheer
Rush o’er the banner fair,
�CHIVALRY.
15
The blazoned scutcheon of De Vere
And Edith’s golden hair.
Firm faced the host the glorious ten
For Edith, God, and Home—
Swung the angry sea of ten thousand men—
Dashed the battle’s bloody foam.
*
*
*
*
His horse lay on the carnage ground,
Upon that flag of woe ;
His mangled vassals lay around,
And Rudolph lay below,
’Mid battered helm and shivered lance,
And corslet, helm, and glave;
And all the wrecks of War’s wild dance
When waltzing to the grave.
*
*
*
*
Sighed o’er the field the young morn’s breath :
The foemen found him there,
His pale lips pressed in ghastly death
To Edith’s crimsoned hair.
They laid him down by the side of her bed,
The monks who his body bore;
His eyes had the glare of the eyes of the dead,
His armour was dyed in gore.
A friar essayed the ladye to cheer
Jn the mournful tidings of ill;
But the faithful heart of the bride of De Vere
Ever, forever was still.
Though the babe still lay on the high, white breast
That milk to its dear lips gave,—Years laid him again on that bosom to rest,
When he fell in the ranks of the brave. ’
*
*
*
*
She followed her lord to the halls of God
Ere that sorrowful day was done;
For her lord had died on the trampled sod :
To a corpse she had borne her son.
�i6
ADDENDA.
Now the sire and the dame and their gallant boy
All rest ’neath the marble there,
And over them waves the banner of soy,
With Edith’s blood-stained hair.
And swords have clashed to the valiant tale,
And the voice of the minstrel sung,
How fair were the maids, how deadly the blades,
When the heart of the world was young !
price Twopence.
Every Thursday.
THE
SECULAR
REVIEW:
A JOURNAL OF AGNOSTICISM.
EDITED BY SALADIN.
Order of your Newsagent, or send direct to the Publishers—W.
Stewart & Co., 41, Farringdon Street, London. E.C.
HISTORICAL PAMPHLETS.
A Reply to Cardinal Manning, by Saladin ...
...
The Crusades, by Saladin
...
...
...
The Covenanters, by Saladin
...
...
...
Christian Persecution, by Saladin ...
...
...
The Flagellants, by Saladin
...
...
...
The Iconoclasts, by Saladin
...
...
...
The Inquisition, Part I., by Saladin
...
...
The Inquisition, Part II., by Saladin
...
...
The Dancers, Shakers, and Jumpers, Part I., by Saladin
The Dancers, Shakers, and Jumpers, Part II., bySaladin
The Persecution of the Jews, Part I., by Saladin
...
The Persecution of the Jews, Part II., by Saladin
...
01
o 1
o x
o x
o x
o x
0 I
o 1
o 1
o 1
01
01
London : W. Stewart & Co., 41, Farringdon Street, E.C.
�
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Victorian Blogging
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
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"Religious education" : a letter to Cardinal Manning
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Ross, William Stewart [1844-1906]
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Place of publication: London
Collation: 3 v. ; 18 cm.
Notes: Ross's reply to a sermon preached by Cardinal Manning on 26 September, 1885. Includes bibliographical references. "by Saladin" [title page]. Saladin is the pseudonym of William Stewart Ross. Part of the NSS pamphlet collection.
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Education
Religion
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Henry Edward Manning
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Religious Education
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700bfa31d31a5e033efafa0cca85994d
PDF Text
Text
THE POLICY OF
SECULAR EDUCATION
BY
HALLEY
STEWART
President of the Secular Education League
Secular
Education League,
12 PALMER St. 8- W.L
[reprinted,
by kind permission op the editor, prom the
“ NINETEENTH CENTURY AND APTER,” APRIL, 1911 ]
��63)4?
THE POLICY OF SECULAR EDUCATION
HE last Education Bill worthy of the name was that which was
introduced by Mr. Balfour and passed into law in 1902.
Whatever its merits and demerits, it was a measure vitally affecting
the organisation of elementary education in England. It did what
the Conservative party had long aimed at. By placing practically
the whole cost of elementary education upon the rates and taxes it
gave the Church of England schools a fresh lease of life. But it did
something more than that: it abolished the old School Boards, and
placed education under the authority of the Urban and District
Councils. This was a change of the first importance, whether for
good or ill as various sections of the religious world regarded it; a
point with which the present article has no special concern. Mr.
Balfour’s Act profoundly affected the educational system of the
country besides providing large additional funds to meet the
necessities of the Church of England schools, which were being outrivalled by the better-equipped Board schools. Nothing of the kind,
however, can be said of the three Educational Bills of the Liberal
Government introduced by Mr. Birrell, Mr. McKenna, and Mr.
Runciman. Those Bills were simply readjustments of ecclesiastical
control over national education. They might be called redistribu
tions of religious privilege amongst the principal Christian Churches.
The stubborn attitude of the Catholic Church had secured all that it
required, and it was allowed virtually to stand outside the general
system of education and enjoy a contract of its own with the State.
Jews, Agnostics, Secularists, and Ethicists were not thought impor
tant (that is, powerful) enough to trouble about. Eor them there
was the Conscience Clause. There remained, broadly speaking, the
two great antagonists, the Established Church and the non
established Churches, which for this purpose counted as one. It
was substantially their battle. The effect of all three Bills would
have been (1) to make it more difficult for the Established Church
to maintain its elementary schools, and (2) to set up a system of
3
T
�4
THE POLICY OF SECULAR EDUCATION
religious teaching agreeable to the Free Churches in all the Council
schools throughout the land as a civic religion.
This view of the matter is strenuously and even indignantly
denied by the spokesmen of the Free Churches. They are perfectly
satisfied that the Church of England seeks its own advantage and
nothing else in regard to national education, but they treat it as a.
kind of blasphemy to suggest that the Free Churches are tarred
with the same brush. Gladstone saw clearly enough what the plain
issue was in 1870. For his own part he rather favoured secular
education, and in private he was loud in denouncing “ the popular
imposture of undenominational instruction.”
Lord Morley, in
dealing with the whole controversy over the first Education Act,
does not hesitate to say that “ at bottom the battle of the schools
was not religious, but ecclesiastical.” “ Quarrels about education
and catechism and conscience,” he adds, “ masked the standing
jealousy between Church and Chapel.” “ The parent and the
child,” he notes, “ in whose name the struggle raged, stood indif
ferent.”1 They stand indifferent still. The war over religious
teaching in elementary schools is a clerical war. Even when
School Board elections were heated sectarian quarrels, the great
mass of the ratepayers did not go to the poll. They take less,
rather than more, interest in the quarrel nowadays, for the people
are recognising clericalism as the enemy in every civilised country.
The parents and children are never heard of, except by proxy, in
this dispute, which is carried on exclusively by the representatives
of other interests than theirs. Lord Morley’s quick phrase sums
up the whole matter. The quarrel over education is a quarrel
between Church and Chapel. The choice between the policies of
these rivals is the only one presented to the people in a country
where religious congresses never tire of lamenting that four-fifths
of the adult population seldom or never enter church or chapel.
Politicians are slow to learn, but it should be easy for them tosee that the incubus on education all along has been the assump
tion put forward on behalf of the Churches that it is their right,
in the very nature of things, to have special consideration shown tothem. All the controversy and strife has sprung from this cause.
And the mischief will continue until statesmen learn—and are bold
enough to act on their knowledge—that members of Churches,
however powerful and distinguished, should be treated only ascitizens in regard to all political and social questions. The interests.
1 Life of Gladstone, Vol. II., pp. 306, 307.
�THE POLICY OF SECULAR EDUCATION
5
of their special religious organisations should be nothing to the
State. Fortunately, this view is finding ever wider and wider support
both without and within the Churches. A strenuous effort is being
made to prevent the perpetuation and extension of the odious
injustice which is inflicted by those who secure the propagation of
their own religion in the nation’s schools at the expense of the entire
community. It was for the object of uniting the supporters of this
view in an effective organisation, irrespective of their views on other
matters, that the Secular Education League came into being. The
League neither professes nor entertains any hostility to religion. It
simply regards religion as a personal and private matter, which all
should be free to promote in voluntary associations, but which
should never come under the patronage or control of the State. The
League takes its stand on the principle of citizenship, with freedom
and equality for all in matters that lie beyond. Ministers of religion
sit on the General Council and also on the Executive Committee
with well-known non-Christians. Without the invidiousness of
citing names it may be mentioned that one of the earliest members
of the General Council was the late Mr. George Meredith, and the
first President of the League was Lord Weardale.
The Secular Education League has been boycotted by most of
the newspapers, who have taken sides for Church or Chapel in the
education struggle, and follow the English plan of ignoring, even as
news, what is against their own policy. But no boycott can prevent
the inevitable. The separation of the temporal and spiritual powers
is surely, if slowly, prevailing in every civilised country. It has
dealt with one department of public life after another, and it will
finally settle the question of national education. This has already
happened in France, and we are on the way to it in England. We
are nearer to it, perhaps, than is usually believed. In the article by
the Rev. Professor Inge in the September number of this Review, it
was admitted that “the potential strength of the secularist vote is
far greater than most friends of religious education at all realise.”
“ The danger of complete secularisation,” he said again, “ is far
greater than most religious persons imagine.” The same confession
was made by two other members of the Education Settlement
Committee, writing elsewhere1 in behalf of the programme called
Towards Educational Peace. Dr. M. E. Sadler said that “ strong
forces are pushing English education into secularism.” This was
his opening sentence and the reason of his article. Further on he
Contemporary Review, September, 1909.
�6
THE POLICY OE SECULAR EDUCATION
referred to what might soon be the fate of religious teaching “ if
public opinion once turned decisively towards secular education,”
and added, what to him is evidently the alarming announcement,
that there are many signs that such a change may quickly show
itself.” This statement was even more strongly expressed on a later
page. Dr. Sadler remarked that “ most cool-headed observers who
have travelled in the United States and in the British Colonies
would be inclined to predict that the secular solution is most likely
to be adopted in England as the next step.” “ I am bound to admit
this likelihood,” he said, “ though I deplore it.” The Rev. J. H.
Shakespeare used words very much to the same effect. After
declaring that religious education must and would be preserved ; that
ethics divorced from religion were not only of no value, but posi
tively dangerous; and that the people were dead against secular educa
tion ; to give gravity to his warning of his fellow religionists, and to
justify his own anxiety, he almost involuntarily disclosed the actual
truth.
‘I do not agree with the Gibardian,” he said, “that it
[secular education] is a bogey of which we need not be seriously
alarmed. It has drawn perceptibly nearer. More and more men say
to each other : ‘ We do not wish it or like it, but it is better than this
endless and bitter strife!’”
Not one of these advocates who so dread secular education
definitely assigns any reason against it, but simply expresses his own
preference for religious teaching.
The champions of religious
teaching generally evade the question of principle. They treat
possession as more than nine points of the law. But the question of
principle cannot be evaded in that free-and-easy manner at the bar
of public opinion. The religious educationists will find that they
must give a better reason against secular education than the high
value they themselves set upon their own religion, which, by the
way, they generally assume for the purposes of this controversy is
homogeneous—as if there were no serious differences in doctrine,
and even in ethics, between the various Churches.
What right have they to impose their religious preferences upon
the rest of the community ? On that point the Secular Education
League issues a clear challenge. “ There can be no final solution of
the religious difficulty in national education,” it says in its manifesto,
until the Education Act is amended, so that there shall be no
teaching of religion in State-supported elementary schools in school
hours, or at the public expense.” This is the pivot on which the
whole struggle practically turns.
And the religious educationists
�THE POLICY OF SECULAR EDUCATION
7
will have to face the free and full discussion of the questions (1) why
the schools maintained by all the citizens should be made the homes
of sectarian teaching ? and (2) why religious teaching of any kind
should be supported at the nation’s expense—that is to say, at the
cost of citizens who are irreconcilably opposed to it as false and
harmful, or who, believing in religious teaching, are unalterably
opposed to its compulsory propagation at the national expense ?
But, although the discussion of principle is evaded by all sections
of religious educationists, they have their own peculiar way of
repelling the claims of secular education. That way is twofold,
negative and positive; the former consists in declaring that secular
education is impossible, the latter in declaring that it is mischievous.
Let us see whether it is either.
Mr. Shakespeare represents the politician as “ well aware that
the great mass of the people are dead against what is known as
secular education.” Dr. Inge, however, is of opinion that “ the
working-class parent is not interested in the religious education
controversy.” One would like to know on what basis Mr. Shake
speare makes his assertion. They have never had an opportunity
of accepting or rejecting the policy of secular education. How does
Mr. Shakespeare know what they would do if they had to decide the
question ? He does not point to a single fact in support of his view.
But a striking fact may be pointed to which is dead against his
theory that the mass of the people are dead against secular education.
“ The mass of the people ” is rather an elastic phrase, but it must
surely include the working classes. Now the organised working
classes, assembled in their annual Trade Union Congress, have
repeatedly declared in favour of secular education, and each time by
an overwhelming majority. The majority vote has only once been
less than a million; the minority has never reached a hundred
thousand. Even at the last Congress, when the Catholic delegates
made a pathetic appeal for fair play, and urged that Trade Unions
had nothing to do with religion, and therefore ought not to pass
resolutions against religious education in elementary schools, the
minority vote was only eighty thousand. And that is probably the
high-water mark of this intensely clerical agitation. For it will
certainly be pointed out at the next Congress that this pathetic
appeal of the Catholics for what they call fair play is founded on a
misconception. That the State should have nothing to do with
religion, precisely as Trade Unionism should have nothing to do
with it, is the very ground on which the Congress votes for the
�8
THE POLICY OF SECULAR EDUCATION
exclusion of religious teaching from the State schools. Up to the
present, at any rate, the organised working classes are decisively in
favour of secular education; and this fact plays havoc with Mr.
Shakespeare’s bold assertion. He takes his cue from the oppor
tunism of the hour.
Mr. Joseph Chamberlain, Lord Rosebery,
Lord Morley, the late Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman, and other
political leaders, frequently expressed their adherence to the principle
of secular education, although they never did anything for it in
Parliament. As there seems to be a general ignorance of this fact,
a few brief quotations may be permitted. Mr. Chamberlain, address
ing the Liberal Unionists at Birmingham in October, 1902, declared
his adherence to the educational policy that he had propounded
there in 1872 :—
I endeavoured to persuade my countrymen that the only logically just
solution of the great difficulty was that the national schools should confine
themselves entirely to secular instruction, and should have nothing whatever
to do with religious teaching. I should be delighted if I thought that this
were acceptable to the majority of the people.
Lord Rosebery, in his speech at the City Liberal Club in October,
1902, said:—
I suppose the ideal—logical and philosophical—-view of education is that
the State should be solely responsible for secular education, and that the
Churches should be responsible for religious education.
Lord Morley, in his speech at Queen’s Hall on the 20th of March,
1905, said:—
In regard to education, years ago he was in favour of secular, compulsory,
and free education.
Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman, in his very important speech at the
Alexandra Palace banquet on the 1st of November, 1902, said:—If we had our way, there would be no religious difficulty at all. We should
confine ourselves (I believe nine-tenths of Liberals would confine themselves)
to secular education, and to such moral precepts as would be common to all,
and would not be obnoxious to people who do not come within the range of
Christianity.
It is well known, in spite of the carefully doctored reports in the
newspapers, that favourable references to secular education in the
Liberal speeches at that time were greeted with enthusiastic applause.
The rank and file of the party appeared to be fairly ripe for the
“ secular solution.” But the party leaders determined otherwise.
They had political reasons for placating the Free Churches, and the
result was Mr. Birrell’s Education Bill. The excuse of the Liberal
leaders was that, although secular education was the wise and just
�THE POLICY OE SECULAR EDUCATION
9
policy, the people would not have it. That pretence has done duty
ever since, and consequently we must not be too severe on Mr.
Shakespeare, whose rash statement has no claim to originality.
So much for the negative objection to secular education; the
positive objection is equally false and far more sinister, and on this
side of their controversial policy the clerical educationists are in
perfect agreement. They rarely make definite statements which can
be challenged and confuted; but they assert, more or less in the
language of innuendo, that secular education, wherever it has been
adopted, has proved itself morally mischievous. This is probably
but a form of the ancient clerical assumption that all persons who
differ from the guardians of the orthodox faith are extremely wicked.
An assumption of that kind has to be more delicately worked now
than it was in former times, when differing from the established
form was too dangerous to be popular. Accordingly we find that
Dr. Inge discreetly drops it altogether. Dr. Sadler handles it very
gingerly. He refers to the “secular solution” as having been
adopted in other parts of the English-speaking world “ not with
auspicious results.” Mr. Shakespeare dogmatises on this matter out
of a full heart, but with a sad lack of knowledge. “ We know,” he
says, “ that in other lands where secular education prevails the
results are deplorable.”
What lands? He does not state. He
rather suggests Australia. “ Australian writers,” he says, “ tell us
of populations growing up without any sense of moral responsibility.”
What writers ? Again he does not state. He is apparently under
the impression that secular education obtains throughout the
Australian continent. Secular education does exist in Victoria;
denominational religious instruction exists in New South Wales, and
undenominational religious instruction in Western Australia; yet
Victoria, according to the official statistics, has far less crime than
New South Wales or Western Australia. Secular education exists
also in New Zealand, and what is the result there ? Sir Robert
Stout, Chief Justice of New Zealand, being in England in 1909 and
interviewed by a Daily News representative on the matter of the
charges made against the morals of his people because of the absence
of religious instruction in the schools, indignantly declared that such
charges were “ false, absolutely false.”
General education of a
purely secular character has obtained in New Zealand for thirty-three
years ; it has worked well, and no serious attempt has been made
to undo it. “ Our teachers inculcate order, obedience, respect for
others,” Sir Robert Stout said, “and the best proof of their success
�10
THE POLICY OF SECULAR EDUCATION
is seen (1) in the diminishing of serious crime, and (2) in the fact
that those trained free from sectarian bias produce only half as many
criminals in proportion to their number as those trained in the
denominational schools.” Sir Robert Stout was unkind enough to
express an unwelcome truth to his interviewer.
“ I see more
practical heathendom in London in one day,” he said, “ than I should
in a New Zealand back block in a year.” So much for the British
Colonies at the Antipodes. Japan and France not being openly
referred to, there is no call to challenge Mr. Shakespeare’s slander on
their behalf. Too much attention, perhaps, has already been paid
to the unsupported assertion of one who sneers at the idea of “a
foundation for morality on rational grounds,” and goes to the length
of saying that ethics divorced from religion are of no value, and
may even be a public danger.” He evidently thinks that there are
many moralities and only one religion. Not so do philosophers
reason. Ruskin taught (in the splendid second chapter of Lectures
on Art) that “there are many religions, but there is only one
morality ”—and that this morality which is natural to all civilised
men, so far from being founded on religion, receives from it “neither
law nor peace, but only hope and felicity.” Moreover, if Mr.
Shakespeare will take the trouble to think it out, he will probably
see that the policy of secular education does not “ divorce ethics
from religion,” but simply separates them in the national schools,
leaving them united in their own sphere—that of the churches,
Sunday-schools, and homes.
The very best things may be
unwelcome when they are out of place, and what can be more out of
place than one man’s religion in a school against the wishes of
another man who is equally compelled to contribute to its main
tenance ?
Having disposed of the two clerical objections to secular educa
tion, we pause to observe two things which the clerical objectorsusually overlook. In the first place, the working-class leaders, who
really value education as the best friend of their order, are anxious
to see the religious quarrel in the schoolroom ended. They know
that it stands in the way of the educational improvement they desire.
It is quite beyond question that the religious quarrel has been a
serious hindrance to the development of national education.
England will never take her proper place in the van of educational
progress until the State leaves religion in the hands of those who
care for it, and organises education on a scientific and civic basis.
The labour leaders see this quite clearly; they are prompted by
�THE POLICY OF SECULAR EDUCATION
11
interest as well as by principle in their support of secular education.
In the second place, the triumph of secular education is certain,
apart altogether from its justice. No other solution of the religious
difficulty is possible. Ecclesiastical quarrels end when public interest
in them ceases, or when there is only one side left in consequence of
the most powerful sect having destroyed or swallowed its rivals.
Such a conclusion is inconceivable in England. There is no one
Church powerful enough to end this controversy. The rivalry has
continued ever since the Education Act of 1870 ; it has grown more
bitter every year, and the relative strength of the Churches remains
practically unchanged.
It was that rivalry, even more than the
formal vote of the House of Lords, that kilLed Mr. Birrell s Education
Bill; and it was owing to that rivalry that the Bills of Mr. McKenna
and Mr. Runciman were still-born. And as the bitter rivalry shows
no signs of ceasing or even abating, and as the Government has
learnt already, through three futile Education Bills, what this really
means in practice—and the English public have learnt it too it is
hardly probable that any fresh effort will be made by the Govern
ment to carry a Religious Education Bill in the midst of sectarian
contentions, with the certainty of gaining more hatred from those it
displeases than gratitude from those it only half satisfies. Some day
or other—and sooner, as Dr. Inge and Dr. Sadler perceive, rathei
than later—the Government will be driven into introducing a Secular
Education Bill (though probably not under that name) as the only
way out of an intolerable situation.
Hope, however, springs eternal in the human breast. A few
ladies and a number of gentlemen, a majority of them ministers of
religion, and drawn mainly from two sections of the English
Protestant community, have constituted themselves a self-appointed
and non-representative body under the name of The Educational
Settlement Committee,” and have published their proposals in a
shilling pamphlet entitled Towards Educational Peace. They go to
work with great seriousness, but in the light of the three educational
fiascos of the Liberal Government their effort is quite comical.
They propose everything that has already failed, and add a few
reactionary or impossible suggestions of their own. It was this
plan of salvation that the Rev. Professor Inge advocated in his
article in this Review.1
Under this precious plan peace is to be secured by one party
1 Nineteenth Century and After, September, 1910.
�12
THE POLICY OF SECULAR EDUCATION
lying quietly down with the other party inside. The chief recom
mendation of the Committee is the perpetuation and extension of the
endowment of religious teaching under the Cowper-Temple Clause.
Religion is to be paid for out of public funds, taught by public
servants, and organised by public machinery. Cowper-Templeism,
however, is opposed to the convictions of millions of Englishmen,
who will not submit either to pay for it or to have it forced upon
their children. The effect of this proposal, if adopted, would be to
intensify the present bitterness and strife, especially as the provision
of religious instruction is left in effect in the hands of every local
education authority. The battle would be transferred from the
school to the county and borough council chambers, and civic
administration and reform would suffer in the strife and confusion
that would inevitably arise. A new establishment of religion under
county and municipal control would be created, and the religious
opinions of candidates, rather than their fitness as administrators of
local affairs, would be the point upon which elections would be fought.
The Committee for Educational Peace propose to leave the Jews
and Catholics with their present privileges untouched. They know
what it would cost the Liberal party to attempt to force the
Catholics into a common general plan of religious education, and
they quietly let discretion stand, in this instance, as the better part
of valour. But all the rest of the nation is to be included.
There is to be ‘respect for all forms of conscientious belief,” but
this new development of Cowper-Templeism is to rule the roost. It
is, indeed, to become the official religion of the nation. And the
teaching of it is to become compulsory. At the present time the
school authorities may confine themselves to secular teaching, as
some of the old School Boards actually did, but this option would
be abolished. The only choice given them under the Committee’s
plan is the provision of Cowper-Temple teaching, or the opening of
their doors to the expert teacher from officially approved denomina
tions. Moreover, the Committee would seek to impose upon the
children an injustice, against which Mr. Birrell expressly provided
m allowing those who took advantage of the Conscience Clause to
absent themselves from school during the time of religious teaching.
This right the Committee would deny. They insist that the child
shall either be present at some religious lessons given by an expert
or be placed in an invidious position before his schoolfellows. The
practical effect of this proposal is to nullify the Conscience Clause.
Every injustice under which the teacher at present suffers the
�THE POLICY OF SECULAR EDUCATION
13
Committee would continue, if not actually increase. Unless he can
satisfy a sectarian committee that he has definite religious convic
tions of the exact colour desired, he is to be denied the right to earn
his living in a large number of State-supported schools. On the
other hand, while a head teacher is to be forbidden to give denomina
tional teaching in which he may possibly believe, he is even
encouraged to give Cowper-Temple teaching, in which he may not
believe. Professor Inge asserts that there are many Agnostics
among otherwise well-qualified elementary teachers.” In both cases
the Committee’s conditions place a premium upon insincerity, which,
to say the least, is an unfortunate outcome of the latest device for
religious teaching. The concession that, on request, a teacher may
be excused from giving religious teaching is futile. No teacher could
make such a request without jeopardising his professional career.
He would be pointed at by the children, ostracised by his colleagues,
and marked by the authorities. He would practically be compelled
either to give religious teaching or sacrifice his career in the profes
sion he had chosen, and for which he had been specially trained.
The Committee treat the parents with as little consideration as
they show to the teachers and the children. To exercise the choice
of school which is, under certain circumstances, given to them would,
in hundreds of villages, endanger their very livelihood.
It would have been very interesting if the Committee had
prepared a specimen syllabus of the religious teaching they propose.
They were wise enough to avoid this pitfail. They know the
advantage of indefiniteness. Consequently they use vague language
about 11 instruction in the Bible and in the principles of the Christian
religion.” Professor Inge puts it as “ instruction in the suitable
parts of the Bible.” Dr. Sadler overlooked that important qualifica
tion. Mr. Shakespeare’s view of the Bible as “ the book of humanity”
—the treasure of the race, the birthright of every English child, the
safeguard and condition of both civil and religious liberty—is entirely
beside the point. Mr. Shakespeare is not a discreet controversialist.
It is not about the children of religious parents who go to church
and Sunday-school that he and his colleagues are troubled, “it is
with the children of the irreligious,” he says, that we are chiefly
concerned.” The object is to snatch them from parental influence
and proselytise them into Cowper-Templeists. But how foolish to
avow it in this incautious manner.
What do the Committee mean by the principles of the Christian
religion ? Have they ever been stated ? Can they ever be stated in
�14
THE POLICY OF SECULAR EDUCATION
a way to command the endorsement even of the Christian Churches
themselves. What is it but the principles (or dogmas) of the
Christian religion that all the Christian Churches are divided over ?
Is it not a poor compliment to suggest that they are divided over
anything else ?
And while they are thus divided is it not an
impertinence for one section of Christians, or a combination of
sections probably not a half in point of numbers, to pose, not only
before the populace but before the State, as custodians of the only
true religion ? And is it not farcical when everyone knows that they
dare not formulate their conviction of what is a common Christianity
for fear of falling into irretrievable disunion ?
The same criticism applies to the Bible. The religious, ethical,
or literary value of the Book is not the point at issue. However
high the position assigned to it, in its entirety it is not a proper text
book for elementary schools. Children are curious, and ask incon
venient questions. Moreover, when one asks what is the Bible, as
one asked what are the principles of the Christian religion, it is easy
enough to point to the Book, but that is not an answer to the
question. The late Rev. Dr. Parker, in a letter to the Times of
October 11, 1894, advocating secular education, uttered a grave
'warning to his fellow Nonconformists on this matter:—■
The present condition of Biblical criticism brings its own difficulties into
this controversy. We cannot shut our eyes to the fact that there is no Bible
upon which all Christian parties are agreed. One party says that surely the
historical parts of the Bible might be read, to which another party replies
that the historical parts of the Bible are especially to be avoided, because they
are critically incorrect, and in many instances glaringly contradictory. One
party says, “ Read the Bible because of its Divine revelations to the human
soul to which another party replies, “ The one thing that is to be distrusted
is the claim on behalf of the supernatural or the ultra-historical.” Some say
“ Read the life of Jesus and others say that there is no trustworthy life of
Jesus to be obtained. To some the Bible is historical; to others it is ideal.
Which Bible, then, or which view of the Bible, is to be recognised in schools
sustained by the compulsory contributions of all classes of the community ?
Dr. Parker’s warning in the name of Biblical criticism is certainly
not less valid than it was seventeen years ago. He was not
answered at the time, he has not been answered since. The sup
porters of State-propagated religion still speak of “ simple Bible
teaching” as if it were really a simple plan of religious instruction.
Widely different views and valuations of the Bible are now enter
tained by scholars and preachers within the Churches themselves;
and all sorts of religious ideas, from orthodoxy to complete
scepticism, are held by thousands of elementary school teachers.
The Book itself is the subject of fierce controversy even among
�THE POLICY OE SECULAR EDUCATION
J-
I
15
Christians, and its interpretation by the teachers is bound to be as
various as their own religious convictions. Undogmatic teaching of
the Bible is, therefore, an utter impossibility. While school teachers
are human beings affected by the mental, moral, and religious agita
tions of the age in which they live, with the Bible in their hand as
an authoritative text-book they must impart to their scholars the
colour of their own faith. There are not a few ministers of religion
connected with the Secular Education League who recognise that,
in relation to national education, Christianity itself is necessarily
sectarianism. They do not wish it to be dealt out to the children in
State doses, and they revolt at the idea of its being dispensed in that
way at the cost of citizens who may be strongly opposed to it.
They hold that it is a mean thing and derogatory to true religion to
drive children to the public schools and endeavour to make them
Christians by the force of authority. As Christian leaders they want
no more than fair play. They have written two tracts for the
Secular Education League—An Appeal by Churchmen to Churchmen
and An Appeal by Nonconformists to Nonconformists—which are
marked by ability and candour.
Somehow or other, and yet it is not altogether strange, it is to
the non-established Churches that we must always turn at the end
of this discussion. Sir Robert Stout uttered memorable words to
his interviewer when he said : The attitude of your Nonconformists
and Liberals in England amazes me. They seek to disestablish a
Church, and yet seek to maintain the State school as the Children’s
Church.” It is not unnatural that a State Church should endeavour
to carry its religious teaching into the State schools. Professor
Inge hails the Anglican schools as “ little citadels of the Established
Church.” But where is the justice or the consistency of those who
are opposed on principle to all Established Churches who seek to
turn all the Council schools of England into State-established
citadels of their religion ? That is what they are doing. They deny
that it is specific Nonconformist religious teaching that is given in
the Council schools, but they cannot deny that it is the religious
teaching that is acceptable to and supported by the non-established
Churches—which, in the circumstances, is practically the same
thing. The fact is that the bulk of the Free Churches went wrong
in 1870. Leading ministers like Drs. Dale and Guinness Rogers,
and leading laymen like Mr. Henry Richard and Mr. Illingworth,
with a substantial following, tried to keep them in the right path,
and failed.
The essential principle for which they stood was
�16
THE POLICY OF SECULAR EDUCATION
betrayed. Those who cried for “ a Free Church in a Free State”
did not realise that the same principle demanded a Free School in a
Free State. Happily many of them have learned the lesson of forty
years strife ; they see the mistake that was made, and desire to undo
it. Happily, too, they are a growing number. And the return of
the non-established Churches to their foundation principle and their
old traditions would achieve a speedy victory for secular education.
THE SECULAR EDUCATION LEAGUE.
President: HALLEY STEWART, Esq.,
j.p.
SECRETARY: H. SNELL, 19 Buckingham Street, London, W.C.
The SECULAR EDUCATION LEAGUE aims at binding together in one effective
organisation all who favour the “Secular Solution” of the Education problem,
without reference to any other convictions—political, social, or religious—that
they may entertain.
Those who desire to see the religious difficulty in national education settled
in the only just and satisfactory way are invited to join the League. The
minimum subscription is One Shilling.
Copies of this Pamphlet for distribution will be supplied on liberal terms on applica
tion to the Secretary.
PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY THE SECULAR- EDUCATION LEAGUE,
19 BUCKINGHAM STREET, STRAND, W.C.
�
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The policy of secular education
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Stewart, Halley
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Place of publication: London
Collation: 16 p. ; 22 cm.
Notes: Includes bibliographical references. Reprinted from 'The nineteenth century and after' April 1911. Stamp inside front cover: Bishopsgate Institute Reference Library, 1 Feb 1998. Part of the NSS pamphlet collection.
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Secular Education League
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1911
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N626
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Secularism
Education
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Education
Education-England-History
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